It just keeps raining! On Monday, Shanaz asked me if I could accompany her to a home visit for a new Bump Buddy mentee. Off I went, although not smoothly since the bus countdown app announced my bus was going to be 18 minutes late. But, of course, it did come eventually and I switched to another bus to cut the last bit of my journey down. Shanaz met me at my bus stop to tell me that, just ten minutes earlier, the person had cancelled. So instead we had tea.
I was supposed to meet Lisa after our meeting so I called and moved our meeting earlier. Lisa said she’d pick me up from in front of Whole Foods.
I haven’t walked on Stoke Newington Church Street for a little while. The rain was relentless but I just walked slowly, taking photos anyway before arriving at Whole Foods.
Stoke Newington iconic ‘fruit and veg’ shopThe florist is amazing but I was across the street unwilling to break my rainy journeyA rather nice ghost sign above Anglo Spice Grill, the oldest Indian restaurant in Stoke Newington. I always wonder what the sign was forApproaching the Abney Park wall – the building on the right must have some historyMother Kelly’s is a bottle shop – wine refillsThe best ghost sign in the area – WALKER BROS, FOUNT PEN SPECIALIST. Must check on thisThe usual alleyways off the main streetViolins & cellos for sale, repairs: London: Bridgewood & Neitzert – since 1982Mews cottages behind a gateKing of the MewsA glimpse of homes off Church Street – trendy bakery on the corner
More historical research must be done!The new church of St Mary’s cost £17,000 to build in 1852. “Stoke Newington is a funny place with lots of funny people, Thomas Jackson built a church but could not build a steeple.” The spire was added in 1890. The old church still stands opposite.
Obviously, there’s much to learn on Stoke Newington Church Street so perhaps I need to check if there’s a tour going. It seems with every little area, the history is so dense that it would take several lifetimes to uncover it all.
Meanwhile, here are two lovely old Bethnal Green pubs, seen on another walk.
Originally the White Hart, The Star of Bethnal Green dates from at least 1810The Grade II listed Salmon & Ball proudly adorns a sign saying, ‘est. 1733’. It has a mysterious and macabre history
We decided to go to Hackney Wick to see how things were progressing there. Hackney Wick is an artist’s community, with an overground station, near the Olympic Park at Stratford. It’s always been a mass of old buildings, factories, industrial parks, and warehouses and over time the artists and visitors have littered every wall, every door with art.
At one time, the art was glorious. Those days seem to be gone. A new entrance to the overground station has changed the orientation of the area and it confuses me. In the process of the change – where homes and factories have been torn down, the art has been sacrificed. As well, the old station entrance, which was always a bit of a dump, hasn’t been torn down yet. The day we arrived, we saw that several of the new buildings had been completed, the fancy office buildings, the luxury flats with names that were supposed to recall the area’s heritage – The Bagel Factory, Stonemasons Yard, Ceramic Works – they’re highly priced in this obviously deprived area. I wondered how many would just be owned rather than lived in. It made me that familiar mixture of curious, excited and sad to think about it and we cut our walk short since Krish was now motivated by the nearby Well Street Fish and Chips.
A rather ghostly and scribble-littered Hackney Wick – The new, the old, and the very quietA car crash in Hackney Wick near the estate. I didn’t photograph the onlookers. Notice more construction
A visit to the little Tesco and another to Lidl, then on to Vietnamese Supermarket.
We’d passed Lennox House on Cresset Road, approaching Well Street. The architectural notes read ‘These flats were built in 1936-7 to the designs of J E M MacGregor for Bethnal Green and East London Housing Association. There are 35 flats. The three bedroom flats were on the first floor, one bedroom flats on the top floor and two bedroom flats on the other levels. The original idea was that the central portion of the building beneath the stepped flats should be used as a covered market. The income from this would be used to subsidise the rents of the flats above. However, during the building period, land in the area was designated for residential use only. The Housing Association was also committed to providing a garden for each flat (apart from those on the ground floor).’ We noticed local brewery barrels on the main floor – did they brew in here, or just store the barrels? I think just store.
Lennox House, by Well Street, is a fantastic buildingThese balconies seem well-suited to creating the towering gardens we saw in Turin and MilanThe original plaqueBarrels from the 40ft brewery- a Dalston success storyAt the bottom of Cresset Road, Well Street is under construction – how long till this gentrifies completely?
And then, on the bus home, I discovered I didn’t have my bus pass. I looked through my entire bag and checked all my pockets. It was gone. The pass office told me that it would cost £12 to replace it but that my renewal was due to be sent out. I decided to wait and pay full price until it arrived.
I was going alone to see A Passage to India at the Tower Theatre that night so I left early and visited Lidl and the Vietnamese supermarket first – no pass had been found. I phoned the Tesco and the fish and chip shop – no pass. I was scuttled.
The play was very good. I’d seen the Masterpiece Theatre series years ago. My memory of it was nothing like the play I saw. I enjoyed the fact actual Indian actors were playing those roles. I felt that British imperialism was probably fairly represented too. The xenophobia, the bigotry, the superior attitude, the refusal to accept something different by considering it unclean, barbaric. un-Christian so heathen…and the fear. Each side underestimated the other really. And at the end the anger was real.
One day I will be tired of Brick Lane. Not yet, though.
On Friday, 31st January, we thought of walking down Hackney Road that day, taking the bus from Pembury Circus and wandering down – our eventual destination the cash and carry Bangla Town by Hanbury Street. From the bus, though, we noticed so much construction that the street suddenly seemed less walkable. It wasn’t roadworks but a number of new building sites in various stages of construction. What this means is the street art and curious buildings were disappearing.
So we stayed on the bus to Columbia Road.
New construction along Hackney RoadSome parts of Hackney Road are unchangedColumbia Road at Hackney Road
Perhaps another day I’ll brave Hackney Road again and see what’s left. That day opened my eyes to the increasing disappearance of the old, a microcosm – or not so micro – of London itself.
From Hackney Road we decided to walk over to Brick Lane by the back streets, taking note of all the changes and contrasts along the way.
New and old face each other in the Shoreditch back streetsQuiet Shoreditch is close enough to the bustle
From here, it was a less familiar view of Boundary Estate, from its easterly edge. Built as the nineteenth century merged into the twentieth, it’s stayed the same in appearance but not in its culture.
Boundary Estate is instantly recognisable – with its red brickStill Boundary Estate – looking towards Arnold Circus
Once past Boundary estate, it’s time to head over to Brick Lane. The streets here are mostly unchanged but there are signs of the future – construction sites and hoardings – and shops at the top, quiet, end of Brick Lane before you hit Bethnal Green Road are getting smarter. The hipsters are very firmly in place. How will it all look in ten, or even five, years?
Rhoda Street will be next to regenerateClose up of street art on Rhoda StreetThe lesser known top end of Brick Lane – very quietModern Bethnal Green Road at Brick LaneWay too busy at Brick Lane Beigel – the salt bagels were selling outFrom Brick Lane, regeneration is so closeOff Brick Lane
I may have said before that I’ve noticed a new phenomenon at Brick Lane. In most cities I’m familiar with, the ethnic ghettos are expanding. When I lived in North Beach, San Francisco, Chinatown was a short walk away. In more recent visits to North Beach, Chinatown has crept into its streets. In Toronto, Little India has started to creep along Gerrard Street so that you no longer have to go into its centre to find Indian culture. Brick Lane is changing in a different way – instead of exploding, it’s imploding. More and more non-Indian cafes and shops are opening, mingling with the Bengali and Bangladeshi businesses and threatening to overtake them.
What will happen next? When will the current residents move on, as the Huguenot, and then the Jewish immigrants have done? Where will they go? And will they be pushed out, priced out, or will they too climb out? Meanwhile, there’s still time to look around.
Cake on Brick Lane – encroaching on the curry houses todaySclater Street – demolition and hopeOne of Dan Kitchener’s geishas on Brick Lane – agingSticker art on Brick Lane
I volunteered for a Feldenkrais session with Charlotte, who I used to have classes with – Lisa had taken me along. I have to admit Feldenkrais – and Charlotte – come across somewhat flaky, but I like to experience new things and it sounded quite relaxing. It was also a chance to go to Homerton. It’s part of Hackney, and one of the more rundown areas. The biggest thing there is the local community hospital.
In the 19th century a 200 bed fever hospital was built at Homerton. It stood where the present hospital is until 1982. There were six wards for typhus, two each for scarlet fever and enteric patients. Two smaller wards were reserved for ‘special cases’.
Homerton Hospital is made up of one long H-shaped low rise building, and several satellite buildings on its groundsThis old barred wall from the fever hospital remains (More in the blog postscript)
There are remains in Homerton dating back to the 11th century but most of its history isn’t known until the 14th century. Like much of Hackney, Homerton has been farmland and it’s been a genteel Tudor hamlet of estates and grand houses formed from the former Templar lands. Around 1790 Sutton Place, now a Heritage museum, was built and remains as the oldest house in Hackney. There’s quite a grand history of religion and education with many lectures and sermons being held, some attended by John and Abigail Adams. Among its ministers was polymath, Joseph Priestley, discoverer of oxygen.
Homerton wasn’t so grand in recent times, though. I’ve seen pictures of a bustling Homerton High Street, whereas today the street is dirty and quiet.
Homerton High StreetHackney Hospital – it was once the Hackney Union Workhouse, became a hospital and is now used as a Mental Health centre – it’s very large so this is just one wingThe back of Hackney Hospital
Things are changing, as they always do. Older buildings are being torn down and newer ones are going up. The contrast is striking.
Charlotte’s place is by the back of Hackney Hospital, where there’s a lot of new development. I’m calling it modern industrial.
Flaky or not, my session with Charlotte was rewarding. I learned a lot about how my posture – above all my typing habits and even my eyesight – contributed to my aches and pains. No big surprise, to be honest, but a very good window into what I really need to do to change this. Not that I have yet but I do have the awareness.
A week or two before Christmas and you’d never dream it was just around the corner. Not on my street.
The view down the street just a couple of weeks before ChristmasAt nearby St Thomas’ Square, not much sign of Christmas here either
I’m used to the Christmases of Toronto, where bling was everywhere and not always tastefully. Now in Toronto, the lights in the centre are definitely not up to London standards but when you get (surprisingly quickly) to the neighbourhoods, almost every house has lights inside and out.
When I lived and visited La Habra (California) one of my favourite things to do at Christmas time was to drive around looking at the magnificent outdoor lights and decorations, each neighbour trying to outstrip the next. I used to say that what Los Angeles lacked in snow, it made up for in lights!
In ‘the old days,’ it was a very rare Toronto Christmas that was not white, sometimes spectacularly so. The drifts would blanket the streets and obscure some of the doorways and windows, creating a surreal and muffled scene, but the lights would shine through – magical. We;d light a fire log and settle in for a warm and lovely day indoors.
My childhood Christmases – in east and south-east London – were simple affairs. The tree would go up – more magic – often while we slept. On Christmas eve we’d go to bed, trying desperately to fall asleep or Father Christmas would not come down our chimney at all. It was the same chimney that we’d burned our ‘This is what I want for Christmas’ letters – mum and dad assured us that the words would arrive at the North Pole in the smoke. A glass of something strong and a mince pie or biscuit was waiting for Father Christmas, and we’d always check in the morning to see if it was gone – it always was.
When we did awake, there’d be a pillow case or stocking at the foot of our bed and also a tangerine and some nuts in the toe of the stocking – I imagined to keep us content and not out of bed too early. I don’t remember any elaborate presents. Colouring books, a doll, toiletries as we got older… A good breakfast and then, as our dinner was roasting, Dad would take us out to buy something we chose, sometimes from the chemist. The air was usually crisp and the puddles frozen over. A favourite trick was to crack the ice with my shoe – how much fun were the simple things!
When Robin was little, I was very excited for his first Christmas. The first he was only a few months old but the second was highly anticipated. A bulging stocking at the foot of the bed each year and then the wait for him to wake up. Yes – the wait! I’d be awake at 5am like a child – and he’d be asleep. An hour later, asleep, three hours later, asleep…some time before noon, he’d wake up rubbing his eyes and wondering why John and I were hovering over the bed. I have tapes of his childish chatter as he opened presents. So cute!
It’s not likely that I’ll get into the West End to see the big lights this year. I had lots of plans and even marked on my calendar all the opportunities I had to check them out, but the cold rain and other bits and pieces put paid to that idea. Hopefully, next year.
But here I am in Hackney and, while there are no spectacular light displays, it’s got its own kind of special going on.
Just before Christmas, I went with my friend Holly-Gale to see my pottery instructor, Maria’s studio. She and others in the studio were having an open house sale. Maria is one of those people who, when you meet them, you know you’ll stay connected.
Maria in her studioSome of Maria’s pots inside her tiny studio spaceI bought a few things from the ‘seconds’ box. I love this fragmented piece, which I’m using a candle holder
One very rushed morning on the weekend before Christmas, I met Lisa for a quick visit to Mare Street and Broadway Markets.
Inside the market it was warm and bustlingThe Chandelier Room at Mare Street MarketRebel Rebel had some lovely Christmas flowers – they also created the door display
Netil Market was super quiet, with only a couple of stalls open. We were shocked but walked on to Broadway Market. Things were quieter than usual there. First we wandered into the Vegan Market, which seemed to have a few stalls including a man who was selling raw oysters, freshly smoked kippers, and jars of smoked oysters. I decided to buy a jar – haven’t tried it yet. Soon!
Finn and Flounder on Broadway Market was pretty gorgeousOne year I bought sprigs from holly from here. This year, nothingCouldn’t resist a photo of one of the remaining Pie and Mash shops* *See bottom of blog**
Market florist selling her wintry bouquetsA very serious Christmas musician
