Travelling into The City after my Somerset House exhibition had been an afterthought when the rain hijacked my other plans.
An everyday miracle happened when I reached my stop. I walked the correct way towards Leadenhall Market. I have a notoriously bad sense of direction and confusion and retracing is a big part of my explorations. When I’m alone I am mildly frustrated, when with others the confusion can become too large and panic-inducing. Today I nailed it, although at the very last minute I wondered if I’d overstepped Leadenhall. No, it was there!
Was it the rain, my mood, the cold or the reality of election day that dimmed the colour and atmosphere of the market? I’m not sure. The year before people had thronged the arcade, music was playing, the tree was magnificent and it felt like Old London had come alive. Although my photos show it quite well, I thought it oppressive, gloomy and I left quite soon after arriving.
Leadenhall Market, subdued
I still had a lot of time left before I had to meet Susanne. I decided that I’ll head to Spitalfields Market to see what Christmas looked like there.
The cheeriest sight so far – snack wagon by Spitalfields MarketA quite lovely sight – but where are all the people?There was a small crowd inside the new marketThe new market’s lights were Torino-esqueA few selfie lovers preceded meLooking out from the market – no crowd to be seenOutside – shiny and WET
I think I enjoyed things as much as I could in my cold and dampened state. It was good to be here and I tried to still the voice in my head that was telling me to head Susanne off and just go home. One foot in front of the other is always the other little voice in my head.
A year or two ago – when? – Carolyn and I went to the Dennis Severs candlelight at Christmas night. I loved it. I’d considered going again but decided against it. However, I did want to have a quick look at the door. It’s always on my must-see list when I’m showing people around. So I took a look, moved determinedly on and wended my way across Commercial Street towards Andina on Redchurch Street, where I’d meet Susanne.
A little detour – Dennis Severs House on Norton FolgateOff Commercial Street, a taste of urban art. I must head back on a better day
Under the railway arch at Shoreditch High Street Station – what is it that stirs me about these scenes?
East end Triptych
Bless Susanne for being there already when I arrived early. The restaurant was warm and dry and noisy. The food was good, not extraordinary, the drink was delicious. Chatting was just what I needed. We lingered and then we walked to a nearby hotel where more chat and a welcome pot of tea awaited.
This might not be Andina!And this dessert was Christmassy
A few years ago…OK, almost four decades ago, I had a baby. Nobody could have been more surprised than I was that this ever happened. It was way too grown up and weird but there I was, having a baby. More about that another time.
However, after I had a baby I reinvented myself. (Not for the first time either!) I learned and experienced so much that i decided I’d like to pass that knowledge along. Yet another story for another time but I trained to teach prenatal classes. I absolutely loved it. I met the most amazing women, some of whom are still my closest friends, I learned so much about so many things, and it opened my life up in many, many ways.
For one thing, I became a published writer. I’d always loved writing, of course, but to be paid to do it was a dream come true. And there is yet another story to be told another time…but it involves strong and interesting women, coming to terms with the work of giving birth, and becoming a different sort of groupie in the birthing world.
Fast forward many years, here I am in London and long past my teaching and even writing days. When I heard about a volunteering opportunity where I could mentor a pregnant woman, I jumped at it. Back to the classroom I went to learn how to mentor and navigate the waters of birth and new parenting in the UK. I am now a Bump Buddy.
I actually waited more than a year to be matched up but I do have a mentee. I’ll keep her anonymous but she’s an older mum with a young baby and we meet once a week to talk about babies and so much more.
Luckily, I don’t get broody. I made a good friend through Bump Buddies too, Shahanaz. That makes it worth it.
Although babies don’t make me broody, I miss my time with pregnant women, teaching them, helping them understand things, helping them pull out the strengths they already have inside them. So satisfying!
On Thursday, Bump Buddies had a coffee and cake meeting – yes, please! They held it at Waterhouse restaurant by their office. Waterhouse is a social enterprise delivering chef training and support for young people who have faced challenging life circumstances; including homelessness, mental health problems, knife crime and gang violence. They do a fantastic job in there. The food is great and the prices are so reasonable. They catered all our Bump Buddy lunches. I recommend them!
Bump Buddies is part of Shoreditch Trust in Haggerston, the next neighbourhood over from Dalston in the borough of Hackney. Haggerston has a lot of old rundown buildings and factories but it also has some really cottagey areas too, a lovely park, a lot of new buildings, and it has the canal – Regents Canal.
New buildings springing up in HaggerstonIndustrial courtyards along Kingsland RoadLooking from Kingsland Road over Regents CanalBarge lifeThe mosque at Laburnum StreetThe Glory, a gay pub on Kingsland Road at Orsman RoadWalking down Orsman Road to Watrhouse
We had a great meeting with Jane, the coordinator, making us aware of lots of changes and new opportunities. And I had a warm brownie and an apricot, both delicious. Well done, Waterhouse!
Glasgow wasn’t close to London in how much street art it has but some of the pieces were quite lovely. Before arriving, we checked out the Mural Trail Map, but decided that we would see what we would see in the natural course of our day.
So see them we did. By chance and occasionally by design. Can you guess which ones I love the best?
Don’t be fooled. This is a mural!
Oh, yes, my favourites were the girl stepping out of the Van Gogh, and St Enoch cradling St Mungo (second from bottom). A close third was the depiction of Charles Rennie Mackintosh with his roses, at the site of the Clutha Bar, where a helicopter crashed in 2013. And I got a kick out of the two pieces featuring Tunnock’s Teacakes, Krish’s favourite snack. In a narrow alley, I could only take badly angled views.
I can’t label all of these but maybe with time… Oh, to have better legs to see all that Glasgow had to offer in the way of street art.
I shouldn’t find it so hard to write about Toronto. I know it very well, even as it changes. Perhaps it’s the familiarity that stops me in my tracks.
But what is different…in Toronto?
So I’ve been lazy about blogging and perhaps the plan needs to be to see things differently. There’s always something new and interesting everywhere…if you look for it. I’ll do some catch ups with photos for a while until I get into the groove. There’s likely more to say than I imagine.
It’s a different look around here. The streets have smaller trees but during May, after a hard winter, the rain comes and the sun shines, and things get very lush and fairly wild. This to me is what Toronto in May is. I’m not sure how different this is from anywhere else but it’s certainly not Hackney.
The architecture in Little Italy and Little Portugal is…well…quaint! It veers between hideous, garish, practical, and pretty. I remarked it’s like a mini Garden District at times….all the verandahs and gingerbreading…the mix of styles could be disconcerting but it flies in the face of a city I’ve often called too homogeneous. What’s remarkable is how very close to the centre these streets are. Less than a couple of kilometres.
For me, nothing beats London for street art. Toronto likes a lot of script type art (Wikipedia reminds me that the writing style is the true graffiti and everything else is street art) but there are some gems if you keep looking.
There’s a huge foodie scene in Toronto but you have to know where to go. For me, it’s always the simple, hidden gems that I’ll come back for.
Very many years ago I got a temp job on Spadina Avenue at a tailoring factory. At lunch time, everyone stopped work and ate lunch on the factory floor. Someone gave me a taste of their sandwich (bun) one day, when I asked what they were eating. It was amazing. I thought about it for years but could never remember what it was or where to get it.
Then by accident, when my sister was living in Little Italy years later, she took me for a sandwich. And it was the same one! What was it? A ‘hot veal sandwich’ from San Francesco Foods, a tiny Italian grocery store that made sandwiches in the back room for the locals. A pounded veal cutlet is fried, dipped into tomato sauce with added peppers (as hot as you choose) and piled onto a Kaiser bun. And you have a Toronto institution. (You can also choose the eggplant, chicken, meatball, steak, or vegetarian options. For me, it’s always veal.
We once asked an Italian, my friend Esmeralda’s then boyfriend, if he’d ever heard of such a thing. He was horrified – that’s not Italian! No! But In Toronto, that is Italian.
San Francescio has become a slicker chain and I don’t like their sandwich any more. So this time Krish and I went to nearby California Sandwiches and shared their monstrous sandwich between us. It’s always with a Brio, which is the Toronto version of Chinotto – slightly less bitter, more sweet, but perfect with a spicy meat sandwich.
Little Italy has that distinctive Canadian-Italian touch, with its own community. It even has its own radio station, which has its own enormous annual picnic. Johnny Lombardi was a pioneer of multicultural broadcasting in Canada and his shadow looms over everything. And it’s a great place for a time warp. Maybe more about that later.
Statue of Johnny Lombardi, pretty much the King of Little Italy, for so many years (Amusing touch from Krish in his hand)Time warp in Little Italy
Toronto now has a Toronto sign. Try getting anywhere close to it with all the tourists and photographers, though. It’s in front of New Toronto City Hall (the old one is beside it, across the road);.The new City Hall was built in 1965 and is iconic for the city – also appearing twice in the Star Trek franchise so you may recognise it.
Nathan Phillips Square (City Hall) and the new Toronto sign
And about the cannabis culture. Now it’s legal, it’s lost its grass (haha) roots. So shiny. I can smell it everywhere. No one mentions it, no one thinks about it. And no one looks intoxicated.
Toronto is becoming denser and more populated, thanks to the mega new development everywhere. New condos are squeezed between older condos. I have no idea how this compares to London but it feels worse. The skyline is disappearing, parking lots are gone, small buildings are being razed and replaced by two, three, four towers.
Toronto The Good may be good (polite, measured, modest, orderly) but, despite its much quieter pride of place in the world, it’s trying to catch up in other ways than the condo culture and growing population reflects. It’s quietly proud. People like Drake have helped that.
Also helping is sports. This year the NBA team (Canada’s only basketball team) The Raptors have reached the finals and have won their first game. The city, as always, has come alive.
Canadian pride in a muralCanadian (Toronto) pride – reflecting the Raptors win
I’ve been much more conscious of Canadian pride and Toronto community spirit on this visit. People hang together, not standing apart. Perhaps this was always there but right now I do feel it.
Doldrums for the weather and for my blog. Hopefully, the photos will tell the story of what’s been happening during this mostly dreary month. With any luck my ennui won’t show!
Taken early in November from my window. The bark is going and the leaves getting sparseStreet art in the back streets of Dalston – ethereal, magicalA catfish noodle salad box at Bánh Mì Hội-An, Hackney Central – Passable, cheap, not really a salad!
