Posts tagged London

London in the rain

August 10, 2010 · Filed under Uncategorized · Tagged , ,

Sometimes I stop, just for a second and I think: This is it, I love London.  It happened today, crossing the Thames, swathes of misty rain cloaking the city. People walked, heads down, scowling. They pulled their coats tighter, cursed the English summer, stomped on.

The river was huge. A vast cauldron of grey green bubbling underneath us, angry, untamable and ancient. Impassively sweeping away the dirt of the city. St Paul’s was shrouded in gloom. Only the top of the Gherkin emerged from the cloud, and the towers of Canary Wharf could hardly be seen. I wanted to stop the people passing me and say, wait – do you not see how beautiful this is? This is our city. How lucky we are?

These moments are precious. I spent years hating this place, feeling small and pathetic and missing Paris’ beauty, Lancashire’s love. Wondering why I’d ever come here in the first place and when it would start feeling less intimidating.

And slowly, it does. On bike rides, in parks, with friends, in pubs. On bridges looking out at the rain. It shrinks, you grow. It doesn’t accept you, why should it? But you are part of it, it is yours.

Sometimes, I love London.

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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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