Lovely Lido

April 30, 2008 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , , ,

Splish, splash, splosh! Of all the joys of living in London Fields (and we’ve already established there are many) there is nothing to match the sheer unbridled brilliance of living right next to the lido.

Restoring the London Fields Lido is possibly the best thing Hackney council have ever done. It opened in April 1932, closed during the Second World War, re-opening in 1951. It closed again in 1986 and began its current glorious existence on Thursday 26 October 2006. What a triumph.

Unlike my pal Pidd, who has already discussed the joys of the lido, I do not have a season ticket. I’m not that disciplined, and also have problems committing myself to anything longer than about two weeks. But I go at least once a week and am rarely disappointed.

The best time I ever went to the lido was with my house mate Laura. We were on our bikes, all set to go to go to Highbury Pool on a freezing bright day in January. The type of day when the low-hanging sun sharpens every you see and you feel pink and happy after a stomp around a park. We ooh-ed and ahh-ed our way from the lockers to pool, with rapid tiptoes on cold tiles. When I sploshed straight in it was as warm as a bath. The feel of the water on my body and cold bright air on my face was entirely wonderful.

In summer the lido is packed with kids and slow-moving walrus and you are as likely to get a lane to yourself as find a turkey twizler on Broadway Market, but it’s still fun. You can sit dripping and happy eating an ice-cream on the sidelines. You can practice your handstands in the general swimming area. It doesn’t beat having a lane to yourself in winter, but it’s a different type of enjoyment.

Rare to have occasion to say this, but I think the lido warrants it: thank you Hackney council.

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Broadway blues

April 27, 2008 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , ,

Difficult to talk about London Fields for very long without mentioning Saturday’s farmers market. In a typically contrary way, I prefer Broadway Market sans market. Which isn’t to say that I don’t appreciate having a farmers market on my doorstep. I know I sound like a spoilt brat and I do like parts of it. I really love the aforementioned mushroom sandwiches and the range of cheese sold by Hot French Cheese Guy is v good.

The Broadway Market Traders’ and Residents’ Association have done an amazing job in bringing a bit of community magic to E8 and it’s difficult not to admire a market that champions local people and produce. The people on the market clearly care about what they sell and how they sell it.

Patrick White, a former eastender (the place not the fun-filled tv show) recently wrote about the market in glowing terms though even he sounded a little miffed at paying ten quid for a lump of cheese. You can see his point. Regeneration, kids doing it for themselves, keeping Tesco at bay etc etc.

My gripes with the market are completely personal and more to do with stupid arses like me, than the market itself. I don’t like is being jostled by billions of boys in skinny jeans and pointy boots larking around being wacky. And I definitely don’t like queuing up for about 47 hours to get a beef burger, no matter how delicious and expertly reared it is. Broadway Market is ace around Christmas, pretty good throughout spring, but come summer it’s a mess of overly nonchalant thirty-somethings wielding babies like bazookas and idiotically dressed hipsters.

My other problem with the market is to do with my working-class hero evil twin syndrome. It’s not real. Real markets have fat men shouting about tomatoes, and blokes who’ve sold foam for twenty years hence earning the name “Jim the Foam”. Real market stall folk rely on guile and bloodymindedness throughout the winter months and charm the rest of the time. The stall-holders on Broadway Market sell lovely things for a lot of money. But they don’t have to make an effort. Some are friendly enough but most are too busy throwing organic chard to the seething trendy masses to have a bit of a chat. So the joy of market banter is lost. My dad had it in spades. He could charm the pants of an old dear at twenty paces. She’s have a tartan wheely trolley full of slippers for the whole family before you could say bargain.

Our farmers market is not really a market: it’s a tourist attraction. Somewhere to ponce about, meet your pals and pay four quid for a very posh butty. That’s fine in its own way, but I want markets to have good produce that you can afford. I want them to be the place where you go every week to buy all your fruit and veg. I want fat blokes and old blokes and little old ladies barging people out of the way with their trolleys. I want people to be there to buy food and not just for their lunch. I want the traders to make me laugh. Shopping at food markets would definitely go into my Top Ten Favourite Things Ever – but Broadway Market leaves me cold.

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Unlock the love

April 20, 2008 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , ,

To start my exploration into the character of London Fields’ establishments, where better to begin than its most recent opening (ok, I know this doesn’t really make much sense, but just go with it). Lock 7 is that lovely looking cafe-come-bike-repair shop that has just opened over the canal. It’s a fab addition to the hood, not only because they do lush food like the chocolate brownie above but because it does bike repairs without you having to sell your granny’s jewelry and wait for three months (a la London Fields Cycles).

Lock 7 run by the very lovely Kathryn (pictured above) and Lee, whose previous careers as crime scene investigators (no shit) have left them perfectly equipped to deal with the catering vagaries of the LF masses. They got the idea after falling in love with sogreni bikes in Copenhagen. The idea (when they’ve got a bit of dosh together) is to sell the bikes from the shop. They’ve already got some well cute bashed-up kids bikes for sale, which my preggers friend Tash was eyeing up – a little prematurely perhaps.

Bike repairs in Lock 7 come courtesy of John, aka Naked John aka the Naked Campaigner who is on hand daily from 8-10am. Disappointingly he was fully clothed when he fixed my faithful bike last week, but I’m hoping to catch him at his second ‘job’ sometime soon.

Welcome Lock 7!

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London Fields Loves

April 18, 2008 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , , , ,

I have some issues with London. You probably already know that. I struggle with ugly buildings and heaving tubes, rude people and skinny lattes, stupid Shoreditch and ubiquitous Starbucks. I hate braying city boys, and Shoreditch tossers, Chelsea fuckwits and Clapham accountants. I like living in the same city as most of my friends, but hate spending hours of public transport trying to snatch an afternoon with them

But, but, but. I love London Fields. I love Mr Endearment at Hy-Minh who can get 20 or so loves, darlings, sweethearts and babes into one pint of milk transaction. I love the florentines in La Bouche on Broadway Market. I love listening to the bare licks hoodies on their phones passing the ponces talking about stewing organic apples in Marsala wine. I love those really weird pebble statues of the bowler hat-wearing couple by the swings. I like dancing on the sticky floor of the Dolphin despite the stupid hats. I LOVE playing ping pong. I love sitting in the Dove when it’s cold and spilling out onto the pavement of the Mat and Cutton when it’s hot. I love hot mushroom sandwiches with chopped parsley and trying titbits from the hot French cheese bloke. I like oggling the fit tennis coach when I’m jogging around the fields. I love pie and mash and Argentinian steak. I love not doing any work in La Vie en Rose, and the way Boualem says ‘Is it?’ instead of ‘really?’.

This blog is about making London smaller for myself, because I’m a northern softy who can’t hack the big city. It’s also about appreciating that we’ve got a good thing going on here, not just because of the quality of the organic, locally-sourced, additive-free, ethically-sound produce but because people say hello to you. They have a laugh. They’d probably pick up you if you fell over, even if you were pissed. Maybe it’s only a matter of time until we get our first Giraffe or Eat, so this is about appreciating the good stuff while it’s here. At the risk of sounding like a lentil-eating, Guardian-reading do-gooder, it’s about community. We have one. It’s ace. And that’s what this blog is all about.

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