Yesterday was driving ... from Stanhope to Larkhall Rise near Lavender Hill near Battersea near the river. .. Thames that's called. South side. The elder daughter drove two hours South from the Scottish Borders where she lives with her wife and foster child. She needs dental surgery and wants the best, which happens to be in Lavender Hill, near Larkhall Rise, where Airbnb is booked until Friday. Between appointments we both have time to explore London, together and separately. Which is nice!
As it happens today, Monday, is the first day of a kind departure allowing Lockdown relaxation, enabling cafes to permit customers to sit inside where it's cosy, instead of outside where it's fine when sunny but not when it's damp and cold or even pouring down. Of course these rules are kindly meant to confuse us all, except the leaders and corrupt experts who design the farce to deceive us. Fear is their currency, of course.
An early start and a wander to Lavender Hill at 6am finds Kasim, a Turk, married to Maya from Japan, in their cafe called La Parisienne, serving food from everywhere, including all day breakfast from working class British cuisine and healthy alternatives too. Rumi the great mystic pops up with sung poems stirring the soul, while Kasim becomes best friends with the blogger.
Kasim seems to love everyone who comes in, though not the nasty scaffolder who hit him on the head with a pole a while ago, leading to serious surgery to repair the brain.
Not nice at all!
Anyway, a follow up visit with the elder daughter for brunch led to more stories from Kasim between introductions to passing customers, including builders eating all day breakfasts. Before that a brief coffee in a Portuguese cafe found Algarve cuisine from Estoril involving more all day breakfasts and a conversation with young man converting lofts with his uncle and rushing his all day breakfast plus coke or pepsi cola, offering heart attacks on a plate and stress.
After brunch a wander towards the river found Battersea Park and the Buddhist Peace Pagoda, not far from tall buildings most empty and very posh and priced at several million pounds each as an investment by Russian folks seeking safe havens for their cash. After the Pagoda a group of men on an outing from Tooting sitting in the Sun enjoying the company of others after being locked in their own flats for their own safety, were supervised by Anita and Majek, employed to organise such events, which is nice.
Thunder and lightening enlightened the return to Larkhall Rise for a rest before a walk towards Brixton in search of Little Portugal and wine from Dao, found Omah offering directions. A black man aged 70, with a birthday the day after the old blogger in 1950 led to a strange uplifting conversation about the meaning of life and whether we would have volunteered to come to Earth if we'd known the scale of the problems. As rain set in the wander failed to find the Portuguese Quarter despite enquiring from many people so the eggs required by the daughter were purchased then Spanish wine from a kind brown man of unknown origin plus handshake led me home to Larkhall Rise before the downpour really poured down, and supper before an early night.
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