Snow on a Sunday

Tags

Abney Park, Abney Park Cemetery, East London, Hackney, lazy sunday, snow, Stoke Newington, Stokey

Today was the perfect day to stay at home or “be local”. It snowed for most of the day and for a change I could manage to relax around the house without getting restless or feeling like I was wasting my life. A late breakfast, accompanied by classic FM, some light cleaning (drain, ugghhh) and laundry, and some fun cooking – french beans and tur dal interspersed with staring out of the window. I heard some birds chirping outside and left some bread crumbs outside the door and on my balcony, thinking it must be tough for them to get grub with all the snow. I trudged out to Abney Park cemetery once again today, sliding on the pavements in the gritty slush. It looked even more beautiful today than it did yesterday. The falling snowflakes made everything surreal. The ground was icy but pristine white. I walked in the park’s little paths, feeling like the only person in the whole place. The trees and little plants were completely laden with snow. The occasional bush would heave and its leaves would  try and shake off some of their soft burden. I encountered a few more birds, many were singing. Perhaps they too were excited with the beauty of the whole scene. Back home, it was time for the kettle and another cup of tea.

I didn’t carry my trusty Nikon today because I didn’t want to expose it to the snow (and sorely missed having a compact camera) but here are some more photos from yesterday. All the branches on these trees were covered in white today, it was magical.

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Cemetery gates

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Abney Park Cemetery, East London, Hackney, Photography, snow, Stoke Newington, Stokey, winter

Looped through Abney Park this morning, it looked so beautiful I had to come back to get some pictures.

Slow weekend with a chance of no trousers tomorrow

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Canary Wharf, East London, Hackney, ice sculptures, Indian food, Indian restaurants, London underground, No trousers day, Stoke Newington, Stokey, Two weeks notice

This had been a very long week indeed. Granted that I hadn’t taken a break during the holiday season but just the very thought of seeing the office full and buzzing was enough to lower me into a state of blues on monday morning. And then the week itself – oh so hectic. By Friday, everyone was so snappy, irritable and frustrated, it was obvious that pretty much everyone felt the same way. After work, some of us decided to go look at ice sculpting in progress while sipping on hot glu wine. This was at Wood Wharf, connected to Canary Wharf via a small bridge. It was all lit up and as we approached it, I could see lights dancing on the water’s surface and it felt, if only for a nanosecond, like the festivities weren’t over just yet. The sculptors were busy at work, sawing away at their frozen blocks of raw material, lit with pink lights, while people huddled about watching them. For me the mulled wine was the best part – nice and hot, to hold and to drink. To cherish and to savour, until well until the last drop do you apart.

Once the wine was over, I just wanted to get out of there. There’s only so much you want to see of the people you work with after a point on friday (not applicable to all colleagues, and especially not applicable to my lovely group at my previous job whom I was always happy to hang out with). I headed home, the evening standard, my usual companion with me. I finally managed to convince my west-London inhabiting friend to come visit Hackney. He thought the whole place had an air of council housing but then the bastard hasn’t seen the charming Victorian houses all around Stokey.

I dragged my pal to Punjab 58 for some good old North Indian cooking. I love having Indian food with other Indians. Unfortunately a lot of my colleagues here tell me that to them all Indian food tastes the same. Obviously they are talking about “curry” and this dosh isn’t always Indian food. Anyway, we had the most awesome meal – chickpea and potato salad for starters, palak paneer, yellow daal, chapatis and rice. There was no place for dessert after that! I have to say that I love Punjabi cooking, and Indian cooking in general. The form, the colours, the unique flavours and how you can construct a different taste with each bite, the presence of sweet and tangy and spicy all on the same plate. I was quite pleased with the place and the fact that it is so close to home. Definitely worth another visit.

Today the sleep deficit of the past couple of weeks finally caught up and I woke up around mid-day. Breakfast was the last remaining slice of a pizza I’d ordered on Tuesday. It’s been a lazy day and the most I exerted myself was to get some groceries to stock up for the week. I watched a chick flick –  Two weeks notice – and I sobbed a bit. I have to say it wasn’t the best and Sandra Bullock (though I love her) and Hugh Grant don’t have much chemistry together.

Tomorrow is ‘no trousers on the tube’ day. Which means there will be loads of people on the London Underground without pants. This I gotta see!

Weekend in the ‘hood

Tags

Dawes Duchess, Dishoom, East London, Geffrye Museum, Hackney, Indian restaurants, Irani cafes, Kingsland road, Shoreditch

This weekend was a lot about the Duchess. I cycled to the local Halford’s to get her gears checked and see if there was anything else she needed. Riding hasn’t been smooth of late and I wanted an expert opinion. We spent more than an hour there but when we were done I had smoother brakes, back wheel realigned, and more traction, for lack of a better word. They called her “Dutchie” at the shop, how cute – I think that name’s going to stay. One-way roads while cycling back combined with my lack of direction-sense meant what could have been a 3 minute journey was turned into 20 minutes as I was hopelessly lost in back roads.

Today was a foggy day and I rode down to Shoreditch for lunch. This was a proper bike ride after a long, long time. But unlike the easy rides by the river I used to enjoy previously, this was largely on Kingsland road with fast moving vehicular traffic for most of the way. But it was good for confidence building and I am definitely going to go out biking a lot more now. Going towards Shoreditch, I initially took the little lanes, off the main road, before joining it at Dalston. Even then it was a lot of fun, going down the sloping road I didn’t even need to pedal much. My favourite bit about this stretch of the road so far is the Geffrye Museum, near Hoxton station. I love its lovely building and garden; its almost like an oasis. Perhaps I’ll visit it sometime soon.

My aim for riding down to Shoreditch was also to try out some good Indian cooking at Dishoom, opened here in October last year. The restaurant pays homage to Bombay’s dying Irani cafes, and is complete with black, slow-whirring ceiling fans, and admonitions on not sleeping in the toilet or flirting with the cashier. I quite liked the place. The food I had was good too, though I really think the biryani could have been spicier but they do have to cater to local tastes I suppose. Of course the decor makes improvements on the original cafes – for instance, the tables are smarter and the lighting is much better than in the average Irani. However, I did think the floor would have been better with the traditional large black and white chequered pattern. I lingered about after lunch, taking time to sip my lassi, read the papers and had pista kulfi for dessert. Again, not the most authentic but hey, it’s kulfi 20 mins from home!

Post-lunch, I was glad to find the Duchess still in the place where I’d left her. I realised that despite all our outings together, this is the first time I’d actually made a stop anywhere, work not included. The ride on the way back was slightly uphill and I felt the full effects of the full meal. I found myself even hoping for the lights to turn red to get a breather but I pretty much had an uninterrupted ride back to Stokey. No longer fit!

This evening, I was surfing TV to find something to go with the pav bhaji I’d made and I came upon “Five go to rehab”. The Famous Five, thirty years on, as adults who’ve done rather badly for themselves in life. It was quite amusing. And following that episode was “Five go mad in Dorset”, shot in 1982 when the five were young. This was supposed to be satirical. I’d never realised as a child that Enid Blyton’s books were so racist and sexist! But publishers have been altering them since years apparently to better cater to modern sentiment. Oh dear!

12 miles – Tower Bridge and back!

Tags

Dawes Duchess, East London, Hackney, moving, Stoke Newington, Stokey, Surrey Docks Farm, Thai food, Thames, Thames river path

I finally cycled all the way to Tower Bridge and back today. Google maps informs me that that is a total of ~12 miles for the day. Here’s a snapshot of my route. I tried my best to drag it to the actual route I took to make it “true” but this is the best I could do. As far as possible, I stuck to the Thames River Path so my route was perhaps a bit longer than this.

My route today up to Butler’s Wharf, Shad Thames

Also, on popular request I took my SLR today and took a few shots. I had to hop off my bike for these and took them hurriedly so there’s no artistic quality to them.

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Oh by the way – Ellers came along on the trip today too! For all those who felt he’s not being included in the fun!

I met my future landlord in the evening to hash out the final details. The apartment looked good. The freaky black cat was staring into my eyes from outside again today. T has a map of the world pinned to the toilet wall. I asked him not to take it off – will be nice to have that to look at in the mornings! There’s a slight stain on the wall in the living room where he used to park his bike. There’s a book case for Eli to perch on. There’s space for my plants and garden furniture. There are even nails in the wall where I can hang my photographs. Moving may be psychologically difficult – this will be my 5th home in 4 years – but I think we may feel at home at Stokey.

Edit: We had a lovely Thai meal at Yum Yum. So nice to have spicy curry!

What apartment hunting in London should always be like

Tags

Abney Park Cemetery, apartment hunting, East London, Erdinger, Hackney, Indian restaurants, lying to strangers, moving, Stoke Newington, Stoke Newington Church Street, Stokey, Weissbier, Weissbrau

After I headed home yesterday from my six-mile bike trip (which my mother assures me is no biggie. Thank you Mommie *drum roll*), I prepared lunch – delectable tomato rice (self promotion galore) – and got ready to go to T’s. For those who don’t know, T is a colleague of mine who’s moved to another country, D, and needs to find a tenant for the apartment he owns here in London. A happy coincidence for me since I need to cut my rental bill and also find a cooler place to stay. Though I love my apartment facing the Thames and the ease of getting to work, I really need to see more people, have a buzzing high street close by complete with vegetable sellers and some restaurants. And some greenery would be nice too, thanks. So Stoke Newington it is.

I bought flowers on the way, boarded the overground and headed north. On the bus ride from the train station, I could see how multi-cultural this place is. We passed all sorts of shops on the way including afro-hair and beauty salons. There were people everywhere going about their work, all this activity a far cry from the dull main road my riverside development leads to. A couple of bobbies entered the bus too at a point and looked absolutely fab in their shining uniforms and helmets.

Having done my homework like every good potential tenant should, I got off at the correct stop and walked to T’s apartment. I have to say it was love at first sight. I always loved wooden floors. Plus he’s throwing in the TV and speakers. He showed me around the apartment and then made us a cup of tea. Beyond the veranda, I could see a pair of glittering, green eyes in a black furry body staring intently at me. I asked T if he knew the cat and he said he’d never seen it before. I saw two more cats after that, each looking right into the apartment and straight at me in that freakish manner cats have sometimes. Anyway, I took the cats as a good sign. T even sportingly showed me where I could cut out a flap door if I chose to ever have cats of my own in the apartment.

We decided to have a walk around the area and walked through Abney Park – a beautiful cemetery maintained as a nature park. As we walked about the tombstones, I entertained images of happy mornings spent exploring the park, taking photographs with my trusty camera. We also walked down Church Street, buying a slice of mediocre mushroom pizza each, taking in the restaurants and little cafes every where. I was happy to note two garden shops and had mental images of thriving plant life in the veranda. I loved the bright paint colours employed by the various establishments – some bright pink, some green, some blue. We came to St Mary’s Church – the church on church street as T called it and went to Clissold Park. More happy future images came to mind and I wanted to spend more time here but T was anxious to show me more of the area. We passed some more graves on the way out, this time it felt creepy and I was glad it wasn’t darker. I don’t think I want to spend any time on this stretch during the dark, winter days.

We went to a pub with a beer garden, which basically means they have a section in the back with benches in a garden. In fine weather like what we had yesterday, this is wonderful. I was happy to find Erdinger – a German wheat beer (Weißbier) from a Bavarian Weißbräu (brewery) – and it brought back happy memories from Berlin. An Australian gentleman joined us at our table and I fabricated a whole load of rubbish to get rid of him, making up stories of how T and I were married, how I am a housewife and how he’s freelancing now that he’s between jobs. I also told him about our little house in Greenwich. T was amused at the pace of my lies and the amount of detail I was putting in. He played along sportingly though. Our unwelcome guest got fed up of the mush after a bit and left. We wrapped up the day at an Indian restaurant – needless to say it was a fairly awful place but I still have some hope that I’ll find a good joint which will quench my desire for aloo parathas every once in a while.

Weissbeir in its beautifully shaped glass

This is what apartment hunting should always be like, pity that it isn’t. Anyway, I recognize this as a fairly once in a lifetime opportunity. I do feel slightly sad about leaving my current apartment – my home since the last ten months but such is life and I will have to adapt to a new place.