Traditions Carry On Regardless
I'ts always a shock when things move on. I'm happy to say though that providing you know what you are looking for things are often more unchanging than you think. Take November the 5th for instance. This night has been responsible for accidents, maiming, pleasure and silliness for a very long time indeed. Well at least since the attempted French / Scottish pact failed to blow up the Houses of parliament.
Now I don't know about you but fireworks on 'bonfire' night were always mandatory in my history and over the years I have expressed disappointment that the fireworks that you buy seem to have got smaller and smaller, safer and safer so much so that its almost not been worthwhile having your own. Sure you can go to the big display in the park and I think that you should do that anyway but I also think that not much beats being slightly dangerous in your own garden.
This year I thought I'd buy a few, and where better to go than a newsagent in Whitechapel. Not necessarily an area in town you'd want to visit, more the opposite, but I don't mind as I used to live there.
I didn't know the laws had changed. The safety boys have been at it again and now you can't even buy a sparkler without being accompanied by a government nanny. I wonder about future generations. I mean a 13 year old can't buy a model kit anymore lest he or she notice that the glue fumes make his playstation look possibly enjoyably weird for a while.
Anyway. I decided that I would re-visit the newsagent of old.
Myself and The Duke walked the perilous route to the shop itself only to find that the man who runs the shop wasn't allowed to stock them anymore! This was a shock, akin to finding that National Armaments now only makes teddy bears.
Luckily, just as I was wondering what the world has come to, the friendly historical shop keeper who remembered my silly spending habits from years past happily introduced me to his brother.
A smile and a chat followed as we were led around the cornerish to another shop and taken in the back door. There, like an illicit arms dump in various states of undress lay the fireworks I was looking for.
Some of them were as big as small domestic fridges and all of them carried messages pointing out that standing closer than about 100 meters could lead to death.
As we browsed around, younger guys came in and loaded up for more illicit sales around the streets.
We hauled away some alarming incendiaries and headed off and not for the first time, my rocket was shot some admiring glances. And some people (as usual) ran away.
In short it worked out well due to the fact that often, if you know where to look, traditions carry on regardless.
As we meandered, the night sky above East London was torn apart as rival gangs immolated each other and fought fireworks duels 20 story's up between tower blocks.
I love the smell of cordite on November the 5th.
A Box Room. Circus
Last Thursday found me at
Circus. Its not often I don't really like a bar. Well in fact I can't remember a bar I didn't like before. This one though irritated me. Its in a basement under a restaurant. Its swanky and severely designed. It reminded me of a long box room. Or perhaps even a corridor.
There is a bar area but it hasn't enough bar stools and those that exist are very high leather chair types. The swivels on them had obviously been lubricated in Teflon and the seats themselves had been polished by silicon soaked dusters. If you were silly enough to sit on them you span round alarmingly and then slid half off. I soon realised that like the bench seats that run down one side of the bar they had been designed by someone who didn't drink and who probably never left their Aeron.
I arrived alone and the beautiful Slinx and an old friend were expected shortly. The few seats that were in the main seating area were busy and there was no where to sit or perch. Near the bar though in a great space big enough to turn a tractor was a rectangular table that could easily seat 3 or 4. There was one chair there. I asked the waiter whether it might be possible to find additional chairs to enable a civilized meeting. The waiter was polite and as far as he could be helpful. But he couldn't.
As you may know I'm sometimes a fan of style over substance but in this case the designers have excelled themselves. Its a bar that looks good empty but simply doesn't function. As a last note I'll add that the very expensive sound system has faithfully recreated the sound of a tinny walkman in an open space. And just as welcome.
Don't go.
Do Go However to Aperitivo
I've said this before. This Italian tapas outfit is just the ticket for a meal with friends or any occasion. We were three people. We ordered 9 dishes. We were hungry.
Monkfish cooked in white wine, king scallops with mushy peas, divine lamb cutlets, hand made meatballs, a poached egg seemingly cooked inside a fine pastry parcel, fried aubergine, smoked chicken salad and the rest. The menu is great and the room is quiet enough to enjoy. The food just keeps coming and there is a good, though short wine list too
I'm hungry again just writing it. And great value to. Are you mad? Next time someone wants to catch up and have dinner just go here.
Worth it.