Tuesday, April 30/2024

 Humans are not the only inhabitants of Kilburn High Road. There are quite a few dogs, virtually all on leash and many of them surprisingly large for urban pets. Cats rarely seen but there are plenty of birds. Disproportionately pigeons of course. Stop outside a shop and note several square feet of ground cover covered in white.  Turns out to be a large quantity of raw white rice. Pigeons showing moderate interest. Apparently my worry about their wellbeing unnecessary. White rice not high in nutrition for either birds or humans but uncooked rice no particular avian hazard.

Suspect the chips - as in French fries not crisps - no particular nutritional boon for birds either. Occasionally see a few either spilled or discarded on the sidewalk. Presumably laced with salt. Usually received by the pigeons considerably more enthusiastically than the rice. Today a few chips next to a miscellaneous pile of garbage slated for the bin men. Great excitement as the feast is spotted by a group of starlings. They’re much warier than pigeons or crows, so harder to get several in a photo, but the small one pictured quite delighted to have made off with a chip.

And we home with a chicken from the rotisserie at our little Middle East butcher, equally pleased.

Monday, April 29/2024

 

Well, sunny and into the mid teens. That’s more like it. Between our Road of  Victorian houses and Kilburn High Road there is Kingsgate Primary School with a sign outside proudly proclaiming that it has been rated outstanding in its Ofsted inspections. We pass it as the students are leaving for the day with mums and baby brothers or sisters meeting them and the lollipop lady guiding them across the road.

We’re not far from Roses, one of our all time favourite restaurants, but a little wary of its efforts to move up in the world, discarding the checked plastic tablecloths and the chalkboard menus and describing itself as a bistro. It was once so thoroughly workingman’s café (in the days when that was pronounced caff. Printed menus now, and the coronary special breakfasts have been replaced with offerings such as avocado on toast - though in fairness I think you can still have as many fried eggs as a labourer might want.

We’re here for fish and chips. Cod - and yes the price has gone up but hasn’t everything - but for the same price you could have salmon or trout and the time I ordered salmon it was very nice. When it arrives our first response - to each other, not the nice young waitress - is that something is wrong. It’s not the way it used to be. Slowly we realise that mostly it is. The fish fillets are enormous and nicely breaded, beautifully cooked. The peas are fine. The chips are plentiful but they’re not hand cut. Presumably frozen. And surely they used to be called chips and not fries on the old chalkboard menu - not that it would matter if they were hand cut crisp edged chips. What do I tell the boss if he asks how we liked it? And he might. We’ve been coming here for years. He remembers us - just came over to shake hands when we came in. But you don’t go over to the corner by the kitchen to pay any more, where the girl added up and you threw the tip in a little bowl. She brings the bill to the table. It’s professional. And just a little sad.

But dessert isn’t sad. Pick up a reasonably superior sticky toffee pudding and a carton of custard at Aldi, and press the microwave into service. Very nice.

ROSES IN DAYS GONE BY

Sunday, April 28/2024

Courtesy of Middle East Eye

Yesterday’s Palestinian support demonstration in London drew out about 200,000 supporters. Not including us, as we were in Thames Ditton, warm and dry and happily sharing a meal. With like minded people, though. Jenny and her cousin Elaine are part Palestinian, with a Palestinian Christian grandmother and family who was forced to leave what was then Palestine as the state of Israel was established. We knew and admired Jenny’s father and visited him a number of times during his retirement in Cyprus. He taught me to make Maqlouba.

Saturday, April 27/2024

 To Thames Ditton by tube and train as Jenny and Doug have kindly invited us to lunch. Visiting with them definitely one of the nicest things about coming to London. We’re lucky because Elaine and Hugh have come as well, though Hugh is off pretty quickly after eating to join fellow Chelsea fans watching an away game against Aston Villa. So he gets to enjoy the roast chicken but not the cheese board that follows. His place taken by Emma and Giles and their family, though, the girls now in their teens.

Photo of the dining room table taken too late to convey its iconic nature. The table can seat twelve and have been here at Easters  when it did. And every dining table should have not only food and wine but a large accompanying bookcase.

J’s umbrella salvaging comes in handy on our way home as “sprinkles” [as the translation from Turkish put it] continue but we arrive home happy and dry.

Note: Chelsea vs Aston Villa 2-2 tie.

Friday, April 26/2024

 « When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life, for there is in London all that life can afford. » 

So said Dr Johnson, long before the days when anyone worried about personal pronouns. It’s our favourite city for much that reason. There’s a vitality, a vibrancy about London that is more than the sum of its parts. We’ve often gone to the theatre, though actually not since Covid. But will again. The parks are beautiful and London is more than a quarter green space. Some magnificent large parks but also hundreds of tiny ones tucked away. No concrete jungle here. 

There’s history of course, from well before 1066. Parts of Roman London can still be seen. And that’s not the truly ancient bit. Excavations a few years ago when a new rail line was being put in uncovered bones from woolly mammoths! But more recently than that London was home to hunter gatherers and archaeologists working near Royal Oak tube station found bone fragments from reindeer and bison where 68,000 years ago the Westbourne River flowed through treeless meadows. So when people say the character of London has changed, they are, of course, right.

For some time we’ve been in love with Kilburn High Road. It’s changed too, although there are still pubs and shops that are proud to proclaim themselves Irish. Probably most typically now the street has a Middle East flavour but not just Middle East, with the mums in hijabs with babies in push chairs, the man on the corner playing the accordion, the street corner fruit and veg stalls - always cheaper and better than the supermarkets  Its MP, Tulip Siddiq (Labour) “was raised a Muslim and has said that her ‘family embraced multicultural Britain’. In the heart of North London's Jewish community, she attended Seder with neighbours” [Wikipedia].

Already looking to book a place for a visit in October, somewhere near The Street.

Thursday, April 25/2024

 Jenny comes over for a visit and we get to show off our Victorian flat. Hard to believe that this street and the others off West End Lane are really only a block away from Kilburn High Road. They’re solid Victorian brick houses, typically three storeys and mostly now divided into flats. One and two bedroom flats that you couldn’t now buy for a half million pounds. The classiest temporary home we’ve had, although that says more about my failure to book a few months earlier than our desire to move up in the world.

We walk over to West Hampstead underground station to meet Jenny and then back to ours for tea and a little lunch. Lovely having unhurried time to chat and catch up. Really one of the primary reasons for wanting to go to Cyprus via London rather than Amsterdam or Frankfurt.

Beginning reading aloud poet Michael Rosen’s 2023 book Getting Better. We followed his wife’s posts on Twitter during the lockdown when he contracted Covid and spent seven weeks in intensive care, six of them on a ventilator. He didn’t emerge unscathed but his humanity, his humour and compassion are deeper and subtler. And any current philosophical and political statements - satirical or otherwise - are always protective of all humanity.

Wednesday, April 24/2024

 The high drama of the day seems to have been in central London where cavalry horses were spooked by noise from a construction site and ran amok in traffic.

Our day much quieter as we take the tube out to West Harrow to visit Jean. She’ll be ninety next birthday and I’ve known her for nearly sixty years. Have been visiting whenever we’re in London for thirty-five years. Numbers that just seem bizarre. 

A glass of wine and lots of catch up. And great entertainment watching the birds outside the French door. Small groups of sparrows joined by a plump robin, attracted by the meal worms Jean has scattered  for them. Joined occasionally by a young starling with lovely delicate markings and by a handsome magpie with a striking blue tail.

Tuesday, April 23/2024

 

Intended to be discreet when taking this photo on Kilburn High Road, but evidently not as discreet as the woman was compelled to be. She seems to be there most days and not for the coffee, though she may have the odd cup. Presuming no street trader’s licence and no real overhead. On the other hand probably not much revenue. She has a few neck chains beside a paper napkin and, if you look like a possible buyer, murmurs - barely audibly - «only five pounds» as you pass.

It raises a question of ethical photography. Not legal, particularly, but ethical. The street for me is far more its people than its shops - though those have charm and character as well. But the people have inherent dignity I don’t want to betray, even in a medium where very few people will see them. Thus the amputee who sits on the pavement outside one of the supermarkets soliciting donations doesn’t seem to me fair game for the photographer’s lens while the man further down the road playing a small accordion does. He too is hoping for donations but could reasonably define himself as an entrepreneur if not an artist. It is a question of the dignity of the subject and the respect of the photographer.

Monday, April 22/2024

 Weather on the cool side, certainly by  Cypriot standards and also London though not by all Canadian. Today at home, though, well into the teens. Compared with a year ago when the temperature was only one degree. No guarantees so nothing to do but enjoy whatever comes. 

Usually bring umbrellas when we travel but this time didn’t. I suggest that buying cheap ones would be a good idea on the be prepared principle. It does often rain here. J not keen. We do have umbrellas - plural - at home. Yes but we’re here. Then he discovers not one  - or two - but FOUR umbrellas left on top of items left for the bin men. Have in the past both lost and found umbrellas several times.  In fact when J inquired at Sainsbury’s one year about one he had lost they prevailed on him to take one from their lost and found bin - they’d been there for some time. And the new finds prove to be perfectly serviceable, the larger two of rather better quality than those we already possess, although too big to take home. So well equipped for our time in London.

The area is quiet. Mostly Victorian houses divided into flats. But we’re only a couple of blocks away from the steady hum of Kilburn High Road. Middle Eastern restaurants, key cutters, corner fruit and vegetable vendors, halal grocery shops, pubs (one licensed in 1486 but rebuilt in 1900), a tattoo parlor. The street has evolved from its Irish roots with succeeding waves of immigrants - Caribbean, North African, Turkish, and more. A vibrancy that Queensway was losing two decades ago.

Sunday April 21/2024

 Wake up in Victorian flat, briefly our home. Just off Kilburn High Road so close access to everything we could want. Kilburn, as name suggests, originally Irish and still possible to buy Irish newspapers but now a delightfully mixed neighbourhood with large African and Middle East representation. Vibrant in a way that Queensway used to be thirty years ago, a way that constantly disappears and then reinvents itself.

Check out produce and prices in Aldi. Yes, the Tempranillo we like is still here. J heads for the pastry bins, thinking Danishes, when I suddenly remember the original priority for the day, and say “We have NO money”. Not strictly or catastrophically true of course. But in terms of Sterling cash pretty accurate. Maybe a few small coins but nothing likely to add up to two Danishes - which in any case they seem not to have. Do have cards but need to hit a cash point fairly immediately. 

Discover that the first five cash points we pass, most of them associated with major banks, are not functioning. Relieved that they are able to point out their deficiencies onscreen rather than simply eating my card, but no further ahead. Others trying as well, and looking pretty philosophically resigned, suggesting this is not surprising. News of country wide digital failure not anticipated. No dinner tonight I say to one woman as she turns away from the screen and she laughs. Then, unexpectedly, a Santander (credit where credit is due) cash point delivers.

Pass Roses, our favourite café. Once old school caff, now restyling itself as bistro (and featuring upgraded furniture as well), which may not bode well for prices - the food always was good. J asks the owner, a lovely Turkish Kurd who always remembers us, what day they do the kleftiko. Used to be on a Thursday. Seems they mostly don’t now - but how long are we here for? Come next week and maybe we can.

Across the road we can hear the rising excitement before we spot the gathering. Throng outside Sir Colin Campbell pub, which still is Irish, keying up for the Manchester United game about to start and already singing with gusto, those passing on the opposite side of the street joining in with stereophonic effect. The sound is so joyous it’s hard not to get drawn in as we pass.

Do make one more stop, this time for a chicken off the rotisserie in front of one of the small grocery shops. We’ve bought there before and always good. So home to enjoy it with flatbread from the same shop.

And, late report: “Manchester United survived one of the most astonishing FA Cup semifinal comebacks ever to beat second-tier Coventry City on penalties in a spellbinding clash that ended 3-3 after extra time at Wembley Stadium on Sunday”.

Saturday, April 20/2024

 Moving day. Ozy’s taxi booked for 06:30 and as usual he’s more than reliable, as in ten minutes early. We’re about an hour from Erçan airport at this time of day. Probably more like twice that once the traffic starts.  

We notice the boarding passes in Istanbul are stamped **FAST**. Were they always or was that a late addition?  The tickets were more or less enhanced economy ones. Allowed us to make changes in the date without penalty and take 30 kilo suitcases, which we don’t anyway. Ask the man opening the boarding lanes whether that means fast track boarding. He doesn’t seem to think so. J suggests that it’s an indication we won’t get any food - fast required. But fortunately always 

decent food and wine on Turkish Airlines. Pretty good entertainment screen too. Check London weather. Noticeably cooler than Cyprus of course, but not rainy (unlike Istanbul). Happily quaint description (translation?) of those places that do have light rain. Referred to as “sprinkles”. Less like drizzle and more like cake decoration.

Tube from Heathrow. We’re usually not the only people who wear masks on the underground but definitely can’t compete with the young gentleman opposite. Leopard print jacket, leopard trousers AND leopard mask. Not all the same leopard print either. I check and note that his shoes are a fourth leopard print, a slightly darker one. The London tube as endless theatre.

Friday, April 19/2024

 On our way home spot a 25 kuruş coin on the sidewalk. It’s worth a quarter of a Turkish lira, and the Turkish lira is, of course, in freefall. This makes the coin worth approximately €0.007. Or a smidgen under 1p sterling. Or about one and a half Canadian cents. Not that the mint bothers producing one cent coins in Canada any more. 

And so I, being old school - read just plain old - bend over to pick it up. See a penny, pick it up, and all the day you’ll have good luck. Except it doesn’t budge. Not just stuck but Krazy Glued or equivalent. Good joke on someone’s part and didn’t cost them much either. If there’s a hidden camera we don’t spot it. And bet, as the bloke who left it no doubt did, that no one under fifty even bent down.

Thursday, April 18/2024

Courtesy of Steve Chubb

Saharan dust in the air again. Notice the warning somewhat after the fact although notice dust itself, or rather limited visibility as a result of same as soon as we look out. Can’t see where sea meets sky as both a pretty similar shade of hazy blue grey. Crazy windy as well. Gusts to 35 km/h or force 4 (which is a range anyway). Would have guessed more but no expert. Varies constantly but what we assume would be a good drying day nearly results in sheet making whole drying rack windborne.  

Can disregard one warning in the news. Headline says that 27 people have died from eating a type of Mediterranean puffer fish. Read further and turns out that these were gourmets from various Mediterranean countries and over a period of twenty years. Extraordinary measures of avoidance not required.

Wednesday, April 17/2024

 

Memories of Artichoke Hearts

One of the best treats in Cyprus is sautéed artichoke hearts. Way better than dipping the inner petals in butter or marinating. But very labour intensive. The artichoke protects itself extremely well. Have never attempted one but do shamelessly beg J to do them. 

Courtesy of Ocean Mist Farms

He starts by breaking off the thorns. It is a thistle. Followed by removing the tough outer petals, then the  inner petals and the furry choke. Finally down to the heart, as well as the core of the upper stem. Then carved into slices and rubbed with lemon juice. (Both for flavour and because like apple they would discolor. Finally sautéed in olive oil or butter.

He first observed a woman preparing one at the market in Larnaca. The rest was trial and no errors. And tonight’s lovely starter.

Tuesday, April 16/2024

 Interesting method the government in North Cyprus has for minor charges. You simply affix the required price in stamps to the relevant paper. No teller or office cash box needed. Have never thought of stamps as serving a purpose other than speeding a letter on its way, but obviously the principle is the same. The actual value of the stamp is minuscule. It really only exists to provide government revenue. And placing stamps on a document serves the same purpose.

Monday, April 5/2024

 Fig tree across the road now resplendently in leaf, though no fruit in the foreseeable future. Have learned more about the fig, though really nothing could surpass the fertilization by a burrowing colony of wasps who give up their lives in the enterprise.

But Adam Eve were luckier than they knew, expulsion from the garden notwithstanding. Either that or the writer of Genesis underinformed.  Fig sap and fig leaves can cause phytophotodermatitis, leading to second degree burns. Bill brought this up conversationally last week. Photographs quite horrific. Will no doubt continue to pluck the odd fig, but with more care and respect than previously.

Sunday, April 14/2024

 Bougainvillea beginning to flourish again despite benign neglect on our part. Though not nearly as much neglect as the luxuriant bougainvillea next door which is magnificent although no one has lived there all winter.

Not all of nature is our friend though. The ants came marching one by one and began laying eggs along the inside of the French doors. We started with cayenne, hoping it was a more natural deterrent. Ants only minimally deterred, responded by laying eggs next to cayenne. So, reluctantly, today we retaliate with homicidal powder. Should properly be formicidal powder, as humans not the target. 🐜🐜🐜

Saturday, April 13/2024

 Cats have taken to lying in the sun on our patio. Too hot for us midday.

Bayram week (called Eid Al-fitr in most Arab countries) is much like  Christmas week at home. Here government offices - including municipal - are closed for the week. Private businesses close at their own discretion, much as a florist, say, in Canada might say well we’re super busy up until Christmas so we’re taking the next five days off. Though it seems here most supermarkets remain open on the feast day itself.

We had some photocopying that needed to be done, so I - less cleverly than I supposed - messaged the photography place to determine whether they were open Thursday and Friday. Answer, Friday but not Thursday. Fine. Then later message (on Friday) from PP asking when we planned to arrive. 

Me: (picking randomly, taking into account that it’s no longer morning) About 2?

PP: Have photo shoot.

Me: Would later be better? Or tomorrow?

PP: Not open tomorrow. But “I have a friend in the shop next door, she’s a chicken seller, give it to her, I’ll print it, you can buy it from her, okay?”

Now thinking I’ve gone through the looking glass into some alternate reality. And not prepared to leave personal documents with unknown chicken seller, regardless of presumed sterling qualities. So assume that Monday it is, though less convenient for various reasons.

And today we are out on errands that take us fairly near photography place, so J suggests we check to see if it’s open. Assume it’s pointless, but only a few steps out of our way. And indeed it is open. Usual man can’t be correspondent of yesterday - he’s a charmer but with almost no English, though very quick on the uptake. Photocopies made cheerfully and efficiently.

Large colour photograph of a man with two small children. Man looks familiar. J says Ataturk. But it’s modern technique and in colour. J right of course. Ataturk with owner’s children photoshopped in.

And no sign of the chicken seller.

Friday, April 12/2024

 Turkish Cypriot news pleased to report that a young man proposed to his girlfriend in mid flight between Ercan airport (Lefkoşa, TRNC) and Izmir, Türkiye. Full catastrophe - down on his knees, ring in one hand and script in the other, lest he suddenly find himself speechless. The young lady said yes to the delight of the watching passengers. Do wonder how many of these high drama (this one 10,000 feet high) engagements survive. But then I’m no extrovert.

Join our usual Friday afternoon lot at the Blue Song. Unusually full today - possibly in part because we’ve switched to a slightly later time for summer or maybe because Ramadan restrictions are over and Bayram celebrations continue - but this allows us to retreat to a waterside table. Fresh breeze off the sea.