Posted on

Where is spring? And the backlog

Friday, 13 March, 2026

The February blues inevitably become the March blahs. Spring should be around the corner, but it seldom feels like it in Toronto. Yet last week we had a sudden three-day taste of days to come. Temperatures climbed to as high as 18C, and all was right in the world.

I went for a knee assessment downtown on one of those days. The sky was blue, the air felt mild to warm, and everyone was smiling. At the small hospital I went to, Holland Centre, I had a déjà vu moment, and it took me a minute to figure out it reminded me of my GP practice in Hackney at Somerford Grove.

At any rate, what an excellent physiotherapist. I came home with the usual raft of papers, including exercises (which I have yet to start) and people to call. Today I must make a list. even if I can’t cross anything off it. “People” like it when I say nice things about Toronto (you know who you are) so this is something to make me smile about being here:

The Scotiabank at the corner of Wellesley and Yonge – gateway to ‘The Village’ (Gay area of Toronto). I do love the apparent acceptance of everyone here. The bank is close to the Holland Centre
The Holland Centre on Wellesley Street. See how blue the sky is!

This email from Denise sums it all up:
It’s starting to look like Spring. We still have the Christmas tree up for you and Krish;
HOW IS YOUR BLOOD PRESSURE TODAY???
Jesus, our emails are turning into medical files.
xxx

PLEASE invite me for Christmas. I’m ready! Today I took Friday photos, and everything looked like winter was over. Two hours later, it looks like Christmas again. The fast-falling snow is blanketing everything. I shall have to do a second set of Friday photos before the light fades.

Speaking of the medical report, I made it to my eye appointment last week. The first time since I had my cancer diagnosis and had to put everything on hold. It went well, although all my measurements had to be retaken. I’m good to go, but only after I get a special “oncology eye test” at Princess Margaret Hospital. I don’t want to know what that entails, but do it I must, when I hear from them. I also had built in time after my long appointment to meet Robin for lunch. After a failed attempt at a ramen place (don’t ask, but autism can really suck), we headed down to find tamales in Kensington Market only to find that they were sold only on a weekend – boo. So we each had an empanada – cheesy!  I forgot to take photos of the indoor food market (mostly Mexican/South American), but I did take photos of the upper part of Augusta Avenue. Kensington Market is a 70s throwback every time.

Wanda’s sells sweet fruit and cream pies. Originally, I planned to go here, but all plans can change. Next time
The cannabis shops are thinning out a bit these days – this neighbourhood is down to 6. Mushrooms are popping up (yeah, I know…)
Near College Street, this balcony is always vibrant. Is that an effigy?
Yarnbombing. Of course.
It’s the neighbourhood iconic wall art. It’s been there for years
A part of the Kensington Market sign. Is it supposed to be bicycle chain links? The wall art behind makes me cringe, but Toronto lacks finesse generally with street art, and you have to dig hard for the gems
Chinatown and Kensington Market share borders, Instead of a Chinatown gate, Toronto has raised art installations symbolising something or other. Must research!
One of the Young (Emmanuel) Jarus murals. He has several in Toronto, and it would be worth tracking down all the existing ones here. Young Jarus was born in 1992 in Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada and has artwork throughout the world now
Approaching Trinity College from Queens Park Crescent by taxi

This will be another busy medical year with all the backlog. It would be painful to list it all, but hopefully it’s all worth it. On the other hand, I’m looking ahead. I’ve started to plan a “walk” (a misnomer, really, but a way to get those 3,000 steps in that they’re recommending for my rehabilitation), which will certainly include not only almond croissants for my brother but a revisit to Trinity College, which I passed on my way back from the Holland Centre. In this long Toronto winter, when snow and cold have been brutal at times, it’s good to have warmer dreams.

I’m not ready to move about the neighbourhood yet. It’s been too snowy and icy and cold. Last Friday was my birthday, though. I braved it out to the local coffee shop, Contra. To motivate myself, I ordered a 2good2go surprise bag – I needed to be there between 4:30-5 to pick it up, so I showed up around 4:13 and ordered a mocha latte. Got to say it was the most delicious one I’ve had anywhere. Very decadent and chocolatey. Usually, I order the chai latte, which I like because it’s made with loose tea and no sugar. I mentioned to the woman at the counter that it was my birthday, and when I got home, there was a bag that said Happy Birthday. It was a pain au chocolat. Chocolate for my birthday, yes please.

Approaching Contra Cafe on Shaw Street
Inside Contra Cafe. It has a quiet vibe
Utility box in full bloom
House along the way
Contra Cafe surprise bag unpacked – Ham and cheese croissant, cheese and onion quiche, Pain au chocolat, and an almond and chocolate slice
Birthday dinner. Yes, I made a birthday wish with that candle:

And now the Friday photos for 6 and 13 March

From the side window. Hate how the snow gets so dirty. March 6
From the front window. March 6
The oak tree. March 6
The back. March 6. The snow is shrinking. In another month or so, preparations will begin to plant if the Old Man is still there
The oak tree. March 13
The side. March 13 morning
The back. March 13 morning
The front. March 13 morning
The front at noon March 13 when it started to snow
The front 4 pm March 13. Back to the snow

 

Posted on

Bradford Day 1 – Arriving and Yorkshire Puddings

Wednesday, 16th June, 2022

I had left packing until the morning we left for Bradford. My packing phobia – what if I forget something? what if my packing takes forever and I miss the train? – is tempered by my eventual realisation that, as long as I had my medications, my phone, and my bank cards, I was going to be fine.

It was Krish who had decided on Bradford. Hard to say why really, and backed up by the number of people who, when I mentioned I was going to Bradford answered with ‘Why?’ or ‘Bradford? Well, I’m game for anything and anywhere really. Nothing to lose.

We’d been watching the weather forecast – rain, then no rain, then cool, then very warm. My preferred weather when going anywhere to explore is 15-21C, not windy, a few light showers OK. We were in for 23C on average. I anticipated lots of rest in between short excursions.

Traffic was crawling as we left Dalston and we decided to get on the tube for the rest of the journey – just one stop. This got us to Kings Cross with about 40 minutes to spare. I spent some time trying to upgrade our journey but the bidding was too high. Our train was at the very far end of the station but we got our seat and were on our way. A three-hour, easy journey with some brunch along the way.

Crowded tube
The tube was busy and we were the lone mask wearers
Busy Kings Cross
Kings Cross was busy. I hoped not too many of these would be on OUR train
Waiting at Kings Cross
Waiting at Kings Cross – the platform is sometimes announced very close to departure time, then it’s a rush!
Platform 9
Platform 9 (and not 3/4) at Kings Cross
Inside train carriage
Here we go again! We’re on our way
Quality Street poster
A promising sign – Quality Street is made in Bradford
Arriving at Bradford Station
And we arrived a minute or two early to a station that reminded me of Southend

I liked Bradford at first glance. It was more wide open than I’d expected and some of the architecture was quite arresting. It was an easy 10 or 15 minute walk to the hotel too, although the last bit was uphill for a short distance. We checked in, were told that we had to pay extra since I’d booked for only one. I was sure they were wrong but later on discovered they were right – oops. The hotel was a grand one and quite old. It felt official. When we got off the elevator, it took a while to get my bearings. Which way? I had to find a cleaner and ask where to go – ah, I see. But when we walked in we were in a small room with twin beds. Nothing to do but go back down to reception and get a new room and new keys.  The ‘right’ room was large and very brown as usual (can the hotels please leave the 70s) with a king bed, bath and walk-in shower as requested. And no fridge. Damn – there go plans to have some food and real milk for tea available.

Henry Irving plaque
One of the strangest hotel plaques I’ve ever seen. Very encouraging!



We rested for just a short while and then wandered around the city centre. There was almost no one around and it was rough – lots of closed shops, lots of aimless and homeless people, indoor markets that had seen better days and no sign of anywhere promising for dinner. The markets were full of Indian places serving deep fried snacks and small crowds sitting together eating.

Bradford - wool city
I loved this needle and thread structure , which -reflects Bradford’s past as a major woollen textile producing city. Near the hotel and opposite Forster Square Station

Fascinating building
I was really attracted to this building, which was smothered with all sorts of signs and advertising posters. The busiest shop exterior I’ve ever seen!
Solly's Fruit and Veg
An interesting sight. In a city populated by many Asians today, there’s Solly’s – a reminder of a Jewish immigrant past, in Oestler Market

Here and there remnants of Eid
Some streets still had Eid lights. I was hoping they’d be switched on at night, but they’re waiting for next year…

Bradford has bid for and won city of culture for 2025 and remarked that they had a LONG way to go. I asked Krish where he thought the regeneration might be happening and then we saw where it would be – right next to a market, with hoarding all around….excavating – for something tall, I’m sure. This will be weird for the city, which is stuffed with very old (many, many listed) buildings housing pubs and nail bars and the like. We walked around a few blocks, managed some steep hilly streets, and took in the chaos. ‘It’s beat up and run down,’ I told Krish. He said ‘that’s the same thing’ but I don’t think so.




This isn’t the day we’d go in, but the Wool Exchange is an amazing building – the exterior is soiled but you can’t help noticing all the beautiful detail.





As you leave the Wool Exchange, and before you get to the Midland Hotel, there’s a brand new mall, The Broadway. We picked up a snack and some water and on up the hill to our room.

Midland Hotel
Nice to see our hotel again after this walk!

Now, my first mention of food. Bradford is known as the curry capital of the UK. It has a huge Asian population. How many Asian restaurants would you think there were? Two hundred! That’s what they say. So much curry that, when Krish and I did our usual ‘where to eat’ research, we couldn’t really see anything other than curry. There were a few pubs, some also serving curry, a bunch of burger places, some kebab shops, a couple of fish and chip cafes…one restaurant looked promising – the 1914 in the Alhambra theatre, but sadly it opened only during performances and we’d hit a period where nothing was playing. We did searches for Best Places to Eat in Bradford and Google was great at coming up with places…in Leeds. We were determined to not let this get to us and for the first night we’d 90% decided that we’d go to a nearby pub and have their Giant Yorkshires.

The menu read ‘A giant yorkshire pudding filled with your choice of filling from below, served with rich and tasty home made gravy.’ and below that – Yorkshire Burritos ‘Wonderful home cooked fillings wrapped in a light fluffy giant yorkshire pudding, served with rich and tasty home made gravy.’ We’d been to Yorkshire a couple of times and not been able to find a menu with Yorkshire pudding (very odd) so this is where we had to go.

Shoulder of Mutton
If they’d had food here, we would have gone. It looked so charming.


The City Vaults was once an old (Lloyds) bank built in 1880. This is a grade II listed building on a street intriguingly named Hustlergate. (Hustlergate is named for wool merchant John Hustler (1715-1790) a man credited with turning Bradford from a village into a city, a city which was to become the world centre of the wool textile industry because of his work.

We were an oddity in that pub, which was filled with half-drunken people who seemed at loose ends, many sitting alone. We shared a giant Yorkshire filled with a vinegary (was it red wine?) stew,  and a Yorkshire burrito – a YP wrapped around pulled pork, stuffing and apple, accompanied with a large gravy boat. This was a heavy meal really so we didn’t try to eat it all but we’d done it – had a Yorkshire pudding in Yorkshire!

‘Home to bed’ and to ponder the obvious question. Is  a Yorkshire pudding done better in Yorkshire? The answer – NO!

Posted on

Two faces of Hackney Wick

Monday, 17 January, 2022

This isn’t the first time I’ve blogged about Hackney Wick, and it’s likely not to be the last time. The thing about the area is that it’s changing – rapidly. In a nutshell, it’s gentrifying. When I first arrived in Hackney, I found out that I lived close to a community of artists – largest in Europe, it claimed – so I wandered over. What I found back in those early 2000s days was a largely derelict area, kind of like a rambling collection of industrial parks, and being me, I was fascinated with the whole thing. I took photos back in those days – of walls and buildings covered in art, some accomplished, some scribblings, and of letterboxes and doors. No official nameplates there – just painted and written flat numbers outside old factories with names listed one below the other. I had flashbacks of being in San Francisco and of communes, everyone in together.

There was a street festival every year, Hackney WickED, so I went back for it. People sat around on the ground, on fire escapes, at booths. There were others spray painting new art. There were cafes, often vegetarian or the not talked about so much in those days vegan. There was live music. I walked by the canal and saw people sitting on rickety chairs. Beatnik, hippy, arty, unconventional, rebellious, eco warrior…I could go on.

I remember going to the Hackney Pearl – everybody loved that place and I thought I must be missing out. One visit there cured me of that. There was a Banksy in those days by the canal. I remember that. The whole place was a mess but somehow glorious. The Olympics changed all that. Hackney Wick was somewhat exempt, being on the over side of the canal to all the action, but it was brushed and that’s all it took.

One by one the scrapyards and the factories tumbled – converted or demolished. The artist-heavy community rebelled. They were always good at that. As far as I can tell, they didn’t get too far, although there are holdouts. What you see in Hackney Wick today is the remnants of what used to be alongside the very smart, but sadly no-personality luxury loft conversions and luxury flats. They have names that are a nod to the past –  Bagel Factory, Shoe Factory, Ceramic Works. They don’t fix the past.

The protests continue…for some. Interestingly, in the local paper an interview with an older resident was glowing about all the changes. What works for some doesn’t for others.

Protest art on the side of the Hackney Pearl

The Lord Napier Pub has often been featured as an icon for Hackney Wick, since it’s been covered in graffiti for many years. It also happens to be Hackney Wick’s only pub something I find quite inconceivable for this city of pubs on every corner. On the other hand, Hackney Wick is perhaps just a corner. It’s posh inside now and the art continues (with new works by Tizer, Sweet Toof, Phelgm, Run, Mighty Mo, ThisOne, Oust, DKAE, Lucky, BuskOne, Will Barras, Greg Abbott, Teddy Baden & Cept.)  I’ve also heard they have good Northern Thai food, but I haven’t been able to try it yet.

Lord Napier pub before regeneration (not taken by me)
The Lord Napier today
The Lord Napier today



On these next photos, with the ominous Phlegm figure threatening with an overhead anvil on the left, you can see the very modern building that’s now close to it.




The map shows how compact the area is and also a rough guess at where we walked. I’m sure I must have left some off but I have a terrible sense of direction and get completely turned around in my memory and in real life. The photos show some interesting sights along the way.



















We had plans to eat while at Hackney Wick. I was quite keen to try the food at the pub, but Krish suggested we look for pizza and did some research to see where.  He chose Natura. At first it didn’t look like much. A pizza and pasta place at the end of a street where the housing estate is. Inside there were rough wooden block tables with bench seats. At lunch time many of the regular sized pizzas are served with a drink for 8.40, about a third less than at dinner. We ordered a pizza with ham and some spaghetti with meat sauce. They were really friendly in there and we were relaxed, the only people in there. The server told us that it was usually a busy place in the evening but lunch times were quiet – so cheaper pizza! The pasta was so so, the pizza was well done. Krish wants to go back for lunch again and get a different pizza.


The estate hasn’t changed at all. I wonder how the residents feel about their area and all the changes it’s gone through, and their new well-heeled neighbours. And come to think of it, the estate is the third face of Hackney Wick.

We noticed a lot of orange-based graphics as we walked,   along White Post Lane. It wasn’t until I got home and read the local Wick paper that I learned more. The artwork was an initiative called Paint the Town Orange by an enterprise called MEUS.  MEUS is a  tech company focused on the fitness and wellbeing of men. Ten top street artists created art to raise awareness for men’s mental health during men’s mental health month, November 2021.  Here are just some of the pieces we saw on our walk.








The heart of Hackney Wick is small enough to discover all in one go, but we tend to take things in smaller bites, especially when they are so close by. There’s a barbecue spot I’ve been wanting to try for quite some time so there’s a good reason to be back soon. We headed back towards the Lord Napier, to our bus stop, and home for tea!

Posted on

Sheffield (part four) – all of the street art I saw

26-28 October, 2021

I already knew that Sheffield is a mecca for street art. One of the foremost street artists, Phlegm, is based there. He once did a huge mural in Toronto and I went by a few times, once seeing him at work and, when he came to get a coffee (black) at the bar where I was sitting, I uncharacteristically lost my nerve to say hello and ask him some questions. Well, I’m not always that person. To be honest, I don’t really like the St Clair mural he did then and I don’t understand why he diverted somewhat from his usual style. Whatever that is, I’ve seen it elsewhere in the world because it’s unique and unmistakable.

But…back to Sheffield. I had a street art map and some notes from my friend, Susanne. I also knew that I couldn’t walk that much so I would see what I’d see, not look for anything specific, and I was sure to come across things in the centre of town. This page is a landing space for the art I did see.

I have almost definitely put some things in twice (you may not even notice, but tell me if you do) and I will caption only the ones I have something to say about.

You could insert yourself into the scene
On Kelham Island – You could insert yourself into the scene and these young women were taking photos of each other doing just that. They scurried away when they saw me ready to take a photo. Considerate!

Brick work art
On Kelham Island – There was a good representation of art made from different coloured bricks in walls. I’d seen this done in Milan before…
Framed art on Kelham Island
Framed art on Kelham Island. It was a bit curious seeing it there, tucked out of the way in a little mews type road – would be a lovely spot to live

More brick art
More brick art near Castlegate. This one seemed iconic – its called Steelworker

A hill I missed
We were on our way out of Sheffield to the train station and we passed this hill. There’s no way I could have climbed it, no matter how much I wanted to. It’s a goal now
Sign language near the train station
Sign language near the train station – can anyone read it?
OK - Gruesome!
OK – Gruesome!

These three photos are Phlegm art
These last three photos are Phlegm art

bsh

 

Phlegm art taken by Krish
Phlegm art taken by Krish when he wandered without me

All the Sheffield blog links:
Sheffield (part one) – A long-awaited exploration – Arriving
Sheffield (part two) – Kelham Island mostly
Sheffield (part three)- An evening out and the next morning – Leaving
Sheffield (part four) – All the street art

All the Sheffield blog links:
Sheffield (part one) – A long-awaited exploration – Arriving
Sheffield (part two) – Kelham Island mostly
Sheffield (part three)- An evening out and the next morning – Leaving
Sheffield (part four) – All the street art

Posted on

Street art perspective – mostly Brick Lane

Monday, 20 September, 2021

Looking out of my window this morning, I saw the white tagging on the black utility box opposite being swiftly painted over by some Hackney workers. They  posted a notice on the box, no doubt discouraging any future painting. As if they could really.

Eliminating street art
Eliminating street art

Not all street art is skilled. I’m particularly not fond of the lettering graffiti or so-called tagging, which is just scrawled writing, often on top of other nicer art. I used to like Banksy, but got bored of the political statements and sameness, although he still produces some nice images. In fact, I’ve had favourites that fall from the top of my list as my tastes change or I get weary of the consistent style.

Down in Penge, there’s a street art group that nurtures and organises street art in South-East London. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing in East London, which strikes me as odd when so there’s so much here.

If you’re a fan, you’ll find a lot in Penge and Annerly, Camden, Croydon, Shoreditch and thereabouts. Hackney Wick has always been plastered with art, but this is changing as the new luxury flats and corporate offices are appearing. (Time to go back and see how that’s coming along.) Hackney Central and Dalston aren’t really on the list. I find it, of course – this is London – but there’s not a lot of note. Perhaps if someone produced something splendid on that black box there’d be less hurry to paint it over…

Walking down Brick Lane a few weeks ago, I decided to photograph some of the lesser known, not as attractive stuff. I wonder how long it would take to cover the length of Brick Lane on both sides, taking in the streets that intersect it… Even when it’s untidy or unskilled, or just consists of ‘paste-ups,’ the colour and chaos lifts my mood and intrigues me. Some of it has been there for so many years that I no longer know what came first and what might have popped up recently. The chaos of it creates equal chaos in my brain – how can I remember it all when it’s like a giant memory game. In fact, if anything here is posted twice, it won’t surprise me.

















I’m putting this next one last so I can explain: it’s a Dan Kitchener art piece that’s been tagged over and over. Now, Dan often includes some tagging in his own art, a sort of tongue-in-cheek nod to the practice. The original art is now pretty much hidden, but look at the droplets of water he created. I’m glad they’re still there. He’s famous for rain soaked, multi-reflective and muted work and this is a great reminder of that.

Doc's
Not actual street art but the instantly recognisable Doc Martens soles – clever pavement art
Oakley street art
Oakley street art inspired pavement stencil. Increasingly, corporations are taking note and these days you’re likely to see corporate-sponsored art by known street artists on the walls around town. Maybe it’s a slippery slope…
Street art inspired storefront
On Brick Lane, many shops have art over the whole facade, sometimes only the doors. This one has decorated the outside, inspired by everything around it

On the weekend, I went on a walk called Global Dalston. I learned something about Dalston’s multiethnic roots. I’ll blog about that another time.

The one nice Dalston mural in Gillet Square is obscured by hoarding as they regenerate. I hope it’s left intact
On Kingsland Road, I wasn’t sure if this was street art or painted by the business, or sponsored by them. No signature

Sometimes I take people on a walk and it always includes street art. Occasionally, I pick up cues that the person with me has zero interest in what I’ve shown them. That’s OK. It’s not for everyone. I have friends who think street art is nothing but vandalism. I have friends who favour street artists I don’t care for. It’s nice when a disinterested person walking with me is tempted to take out their phone and capture the art for themselves. When I think about taste in art, my mum comes to mind. She was an accomplished artist who showed talent from a young age, but whose art career was cut short by WW2 and then marriage. She was repulsed by black velvet paintings and said so at every sighting – ‘They have terrible taste.’ One day I couldn’t resist –  ‘You know, mum, thousands of people love them. Maybe it’s your taste that’s off.’ It was naughty of me and earned me a sideways glare, but there it is.

I’ve always liked dereliction and chaos, unattracted by tidiness and order. I put it down to my childhood, growing up in what people called the slums and I called home, playing in the bomb-damaged streets, and my earliest memories of London as a crumbling, sooty, rundown city that I somehow loved. Maybe I’m right about where this love came from and maybe I’m not. No point in making excuses. I see no merit in Picasso. Taste is taste.