So the day came, my planned trip to London and a day in the Camden area. I boarded the train and gazed out of the window musing what the day may yield. I soon get chatting to the guy next to me, we talk music and other things, he's a city boy, suited and booted but very likeable with it and in no time I am pulling into King Cross station. We joke to each other about the hustle and bustle to come and how unpleasant the London underground can be before bidding each other farewell.
I navigate through the hordes of bodies at Kings Cross and descend to the underground, as usual its hot and busy but I know its only two stops to Camden town so I can bear it. I hit Camden around noon and the sights and sounds instantly assault my senses as I leave the station. It's busy, very busy in fact and the flow of people is almost at a crawl. I head for one of the many markets in Camden and bag a couple of T-Shirts that Gary and I had seen at Christmas in Lincoln but couldn't get because the shop was closed, and when I returned later the shop was vacant. So the first purchase is definitely for the win, Gary will be happy when he comes over from China next month.
Then I am inexorably drawn to the Stables market across the road and my favourite clothing shop ever... Cyberdog. Like a sycophantic disciple I enter and head down the escalator. A large LED lights up the back wall and a DJ is playing bouncy electro vibes as I survey the panoply of clothing around me. To use a phrase my mate Tom once said 'I am dancing in my head' and there I stood with a little hobbit inside my head busting moves on a revolving dance floor in my mind, for a moment it really is overload as I just don't know what to do first. I randomly begin looking at clothing and its ker-ching as the cash register in my mind begins to turn over, I stand there salivating over awesome clothes 'want, want, must have, need, don't need but it looks cool' are what I am thinking. It takes little time to have my hands full, 3 t-shirts, a hat, a sweat band, socks and I realise I need to pay and get out before the credit card comes out and I do myself some real damage. It's a wrench but I pay and head back into the daylight feeling uber content.
The aroma of the many food stalls surrounds me and I decide I need to sit and eat and plan my next move. I soon crash down at a Chinese food stall having been charmed there with a free food sample by a pretty oriental girl. As I perch on my stool it feels like I am on the set of some Blade Runner-esque movie, the noodles I eat are excellent and I people watch constantly.
Then I head to the shops but with food inside me I feel lethargic and just want to sit down again and let the feeling pass. I head down Inverness street to a bar called 'The Good Mixer' which kind of reminds me of my local and it also allegedly has celebrities drink there on occasion, though no such luck for me this time. Sitting outside with a beer I recline and soak things in, Inverness street is somewhat quieter than Camden High street so I collect my senses and decide on my next move. I watch a Londoner stand nearby swearing repeatedly into his phone whilst breaking off sporadically to shout and sell his fruit and veg wares. In truth he is one of the few English voices I have heard so far as Camden is full of foreign people, it's very much a cultural melting pot. Suddenly a woman stands before me, she's adorned in a beret, silken scarf and tacky blue plastic sun shades. I'd say she was about mid forties but looked mid fifties, alcohol and drugs had obviously taken their toll. She asks for forty pence politely and I feel inclined to help and dig into my pocket producing a pound and forty pence, she ignores the forty pence and asks for the pound cheekily stating she needs it to get to an appointment. I look at her with knowing doubt and she caves in and says she actually needs a drink. Admiring her blunt honesty I give her the pound coin and she thanks me before heading off. Two minutes later a man stands before me and almost demands money and at this point I am beginning to think I should have sat inside. I point out I've just given money to someone and should I keep giving money to people I'll need money myself, he grumbles and walks off, at least the first woman had manners and a certain jaded style.
It's decision time, I ponder on a lengthy walk to Camden square to see the late Amy Winehouse tributes but feel hypocritical as I'm not really a fan and neither do I think she is a great star of our times. Regent's park pops into my head, I know it's nearby and roughly north of where I am, so I set off albeit a bit blindly plus I need a break from the shops and mass of people. Only a street away from Camden high street and I step into a surreal suburbia, large period houses on small crescent streets. It is hard to imagine that the cacophony of Camden High street is so close by. Stumbling through a few roads I see a sign for Regents park and soon arrive. Heading into the place I see it is indeed vast, I walk and walk yet feel I am getting nowhere. I sit on a park bench, survey the lush greenery around me and spy Telecom tower through the trees and saunter over to take a photo before sitting again and sorting my rucksack contents.
Checking my watch I see the afternoon is getting on, my friend Pat has just texted and he can meet for a coffee after work so I head back into Camden or so I think - yup I get lost! I know I'm not far off the beaten track and I curse myself as I thought I had mentally mapped things in my head. I spy a newsagents and pop in to buy some gum and ask for directions from the Indian shopkeeper. His directions are concise and excellent as the route back takes me along the canal and gets me back into Camden quickly and by a scenic route to boot, so I take some photos and send mental thanks to the shopkeeper for doing me a favour.
It's almost 5pm, I snatch a quick phone call with Pat and we agree to meet at Euston and I do some last minute shopping. Calling in a shop I've bought boots in before I'm greeted by a turkish looking old guy, he has savvy and he knows his sales patter. He looks down at my well worn Gordon Jack ankle boots and asks where did I get them from? We are soon locked in conversation and he shows me his wares, it is a good shop and I know you can haggle but the only thing he shows me are New Rock boots which I already have, in fact from the very same shop last year. I tell him I want something similar to what I am wearing, as they aren't as heavy as New Rocks. He offers me some pastel shaded boots that really aren't to my liking and it is looking like I am out of luck, he shrugs but a split second later has a eureka moment and dives off to the end of some racking and produces a pair of lightweight black New Rocks with velcro straps that look similar to what I am wearing. To add to my excitement they are in my size too, I try them on, they look awesome and we begin to haggle. They come down from £120 to £90 and we reach deadlock, as I know New Rocks are quality we agree on a deal and I head off to meet Pat feeling a very lucky hobbit.
In no time I am disembarking at Euston, it seems quite a lot has changed since I was there some years ago. Many years ago I had to get off the tube at Euston due to some bomb threat or something similar and run from there to Kings Cross to catch my train, it was a close call but I made it and in truth Euston and Kings Cross are quite close to each other, a ten minute stroll. I slump down on a wooden seat outside in a forecourt surrounded by coffee bars and restaurants. Soon Pat arrives, it's been about a year since I've seen him and he's looking well. His trademark beard and long hair surround his smiling face, we chat and he tells me about his new job over a strong coffee. We sit outside and the sun streams down though it is approaching early evening. It's good to see Pat again and he always has plenty to say and never fails to make me smile.
All to soon it is time for goodbyes, we take a steady walk to Kings Cross and continue to chat merrily away. There are huge throngs of people at Kings Cross and they seem to announce trains at the last possible minute, its a hasty goodbye and handshake and I am on the train leaving London behind and suburbia gives way to rolling fields.
I review the day, after spending more time in Camden I have to say it has lost some of its lustre for me, why I hear you say? Well, friends know I love the place but this time it felt too busy and though there are some amazingly good shops there are lots more selling the same touristy rubbish and cheap t-shirts. I still love Camden and its avant-garde bohemian vibe and I'll always return for buying clothes but this time I felt the good shops seem overwhelmed by touristy ones and this is a real shame. Camden is a special place but it is also very commercial these days too.
One final thing, my 'Boblbee' rucksack was amazing on the day, so comfortable to wear and its amazing how much you can get in it to say it is not overly big, it really did the business on the day. On the downside, my Sony Ericsson X8 phone was an epic fail. The battery ran down quick even though I used it maybe 5 times for different tasks of no great length. I need to get rid of it soon and also change networks as Orange is a pretty dire service provider these days.
I navigate through the hordes of bodies at Kings Cross and descend to the underground, as usual its hot and busy but I know its only two stops to Camden town so I can bear it. I hit Camden around noon and the sights and sounds instantly assault my senses as I leave the station. It's busy, very busy in fact and the flow of people is almost at a crawl. I head for one of the many markets in Camden and bag a couple of T-Shirts that Gary and I had seen at Christmas in Lincoln but couldn't get because the shop was closed, and when I returned later the shop was vacant. So the first purchase is definitely for the win, Gary will be happy when he comes over from China next month.
Then I am inexorably drawn to the Stables market across the road and my favourite clothing shop ever... Cyberdog. Like a sycophantic disciple I enter and head down the escalator. A large LED lights up the back wall and a DJ is playing bouncy electro vibes as I survey the panoply of clothing around me. To use a phrase my mate Tom once said 'I am dancing in my head' and there I stood with a little hobbit inside my head busting moves on a revolving dance floor in my mind, for a moment it really is overload as I just don't know what to do first. I randomly begin looking at clothing and its ker-ching as the cash register in my mind begins to turn over, I stand there salivating over awesome clothes 'want, want, must have, need, don't need but it looks cool' are what I am thinking. It takes little time to have my hands full, 3 t-shirts, a hat, a sweat band, socks and I realise I need to pay and get out before the credit card comes out and I do myself some real damage. It's a wrench but I pay and head back into the daylight feeling uber content.
The aroma of the many food stalls surrounds me and I decide I need to sit and eat and plan my next move. I soon crash down at a Chinese food stall having been charmed there with a free food sample by a pretty oriental girl. As I perch on my stool it feels like I am on the set of some Blade Runner-esque movie, the noodles I eat are excellent and I people watch constantly.
Then I head to the shops but with food inside me I feel lethargic and just want to sit down again and let the feeling pass. I head down Inverness street to a bar called 'The Good Mixer' which kind of reminds me of my local and it also allegedly has celebrities drink there on occasion, though no such luck for me this time. Sitting outside with a beer I recline and soak things in, Inverness street is somewhat quieter than Camden High street so I collect my senses and decide on my next move. I watch a Londoner stand nearby swearing repeatedly into his phone whilst breaking off sporadically to shout and sell his fruit and veg wares. In truth he is one of the few English voices I have heard so far as Camden is full of foreign people, it's very much a cultural melting pot. Suddenly a woman stands before me, she's adorned in a beret, silken scarf and tacky blue plastic sun shades. I'd say she was about mid forties but looked mid fifties, alcohol and drugs had obviously taken their toll. She asks for forty pence politely and I feel inclined to help and dig into my pocket producing a pound and forty pence, she ignores the forty pence and asks for the pound cheekily stating she needs it to get to an appointment. I look at her with knowing doubt and she caves in and says she actually needs a drink. Admiring her blunt honesty I give her the pound coin and she thanks me before heading off. Two minutes later a man stands before me and almost demands money and at this point I am beginning to think I should have sat inside. I point out I've just given money to someone and should I keep giving money to people I'll need money myself, he grumbles and walks off, at least the first woman had manners and a certain jaded style.
It's decision time, I ponder on a lengthy walk to Camden square to see the late Amy Winehouse tributes but feel hypocritical as I'm not really a fan and neither do I think she is a great star of our times. Regent's park pops into my head, I know it's nearby and roughly north of where I am, so I set off albeit a bit blindly plus I need a break from the shops and mass of people. Only a street away from Camden high street and I step into a surreal suburbia, large period houses on small crescent streets. It is hard to imagine that the cacophony of Camden High street is so close by. Stumbling through a few roads I see a sign for Regents park and soon arrive. Heading into the place I see it is indeed vast, I walk and walk yet feel I am getting nowhere. I sit on a park bench, survey the lush greenery around me and spy Telecom tower through the trees and saunter over to take a photo before sitting again and sorting my rucksack contents.
Checking my watch I see the afternoon is getting on, my friend Pat has just texted and he can meet for a coffee after work so I head back into Camden or so I think - yup I get lost! I know I'm not far off the beaten track and I curse myself as I thought I had mentally mapped things in my head. I spy a newsagents and pop in to buy some gum and ask for directions from the Indian shopkeeper. His directions are concise and excellent as the route back takes me along the canal and gets me back into Camden quickly and by a scenic route to boot, so I take some photos and send mental thanks to the shopkeeper for doing me a favour.
It's almost 5pm, I snatch a quick phone call with Pat and we agree to meet at Euston and I do some last minute shopping. Calling in a shop I've bought boots in before I'm greeted by a turkish looking old guy, he has savvy and he knows his sales patter. He looks down at my well worn Gordon Jack ankle boots and asks where did I get them from? We are soon locked in conversation and he shows me his wares, it is a good shop and I know you can haggle but the only thing he shows me are New Rock boots which I already have, in fact from the very same shop last year. I tell him I want something similar to what I am wearing, as they aren't as heavy as New Rocks. He offers me some pastel shaded boots that really aren't to my liking and it is looking like I am out of luck, he shrugs but a split second later has a eureka moment and dives off to the end of some racking and produces a pair of lightweight black New Rocks with velcro straps that look similar to what I am wearing. To add to my excitement they are in my size too, I try them on, they look awesome and we begin to haggle. They come down from £120 to £90 and we reach deadlock, as I know New Rocks are quality we agree on a deal and I head off to meet Pat feeling a very lucky hobbit.
In no time I am disembarking at Euston, it seems quite a lot has changed since I was there some years ago. Many years ago I had to get off the tube at Euston due to some bomb threat or something similar and run from there to Kings Cross to catch my train, it was a close call but I made it and in truth Euston and Kings Cross are quite close to each other, a ten minute stroll. I slump down on a wooden seat outside in a forecourt surrounded by coffee bars and restaurants. Soon Pat arrives, it's been about a year since I've seen him and he's looking well. His trademark beard and long hair surround his smiling face, we chat and he tells me about his new job over a strong coffee. We sit outside and the sun streams down though it is approaching early evening. It's good to see Pat again and he always has plenty to say and never fails to make me smile.
All to soon it is time for goodbyes, we take a steady walk to Kings Cross and continue to chat merrily away. There are huge throngs of people at Kings Cross and they seem to announce trains at the last possible minute, its a hasty goodbye and handshake and I am on the train leaving London behind and suburbia gives way to rolling fields.
I review the day, after spending more time in Camden I have to say it has lost some of its lustre for me, why I hear you say? Well, friends know I love the place but this time it felt too busy and though there are some amazingly good shops there are lots more selling the same touristy rubbish and cheap t-shirts. I still love Camden and its avant-garde bohemian vibe and I'll always return for buying clothes but this time I felt the good shops seem overwhelmed by touristy ones and this is a real shame. Camden is a special place but it is also very commercial these days too.
One final thing, my 'Boblbee' rucksack was amazing on the day, so comfortable to wear and its amazing how much you can get in it to say it is not overly big, it really did the business on the day. On the downside, my Sony Ericsson X8 phone was an epic fail. The battery ran down quick even though I used it maybe 5 times for different tasks of no great length. I need to get rid of it soon and also change networks as Orange is a pretty dire service provider these days.
1 comment:
Sounds like an awesome day.
Harmony
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