My short-lived time at the Monument left me wanting for more adventure and I was about to concede to a nearly bland Sunday until I saw a breakthrough back at the Monument Underground station. I noticed that the Metropolitan line operates through Monument to London’s East End, or in the direction of Aldgate East to be specific. I have tried on numerous occasions during my time in London to make my way there via the practically non-functional Hammersmith and City Line from King’s Cross/St. Pancras station, but to no avail. Since then, I had already given up on the opportunity to experience Brick Lane and actually get a glimpse of the much hyped about magnificent street art in the area. Brick Lane is also famous for its curry houses stemming from the cultural influence of the Anglo Bangladeshi/Bengali community situated in this particular borough of Tower Hamlets. Fortunately, the Metropolitan line was in operation that day and I gleefully skipped along to the Eastbound Metropolitan Line waiting for the tube to take me to street art heaven. 

In a matter of time I arrive at Aldgate East and search the user-friendly street map  to discover that Brick Lane is situated one street from the Underground station. I proceed to exit the station into Whitechapel High Street and though the street scene may have not been as captivating as exiting from the Brixton, Oxford Circus, Camden Town or Piccadilly Circus stations, I was still quite happy to be there. It’s not hard to imagine that the Whitechapel district had a reputation for being a notorious poverty-stricken crime den and once a happy hunting ground of the cult famous serial killer, Jack the Ripper. My initial impression was that this place was still recovering from the squalor it’s lived up for more than a century and somewhat in the process of being slowly gentrified. Anyway, there wasn’t much to see in Whitechapel High Street and so I made my way into Brick Lane. 

I was immediately taken by the number of curry houses in the Lane. If I had to be blindfolded and point in the direction of a random spot; it would most certainly turn out to be a curry house. Despite the temptation around me and a near empty tummy following my Monument challenge, I was in no mood for a curry. Also, the humorous display of ‘Chef Of The Year’ banners hanging simultaneously outside every second curry house, was a turn-off too. It made me doubt somewhat the authenticity of most of the eateries. I took my chances on grabbing a decadent bite to eat elsewhere and it was later unbeknownst to me that Brick Lane’s market day occurred on a Sunday. Lucky me! It seemed the perfect moment to come to Brick Lane compared to any other day - a market which meant food, and presumably good food at that! If the markets in Camden Town had everything to come by, Brick Lane market by comparison had anything you could possibly buy. It is not as spirited and wacky as Camden Town’s markets but definitely intriguing and interesting enough to pull a crowd. By this time, I got caught up in a traffic jam within the crowd and completely sandwiched from all ends that I anticipated I’d be pick pocketed at any time then. But it turned out that was not to be fortunately, either the folks around me were just morally predisposed or could possibly be me just too cheaply-looking to have nothing to be pick pocketed for. Almost anything can be a commodity here, from stereo boom boxes from the 80’s, DIY junk, various art pieces, second-hand Parisian furniture, you name it! I bet these stall owners could make used paint into a commodity if they could and the bargain price tags are able enough to still keep your wallet healthy and happy. The stalls here are also not as decorative as those in Camden Lock Village, however one stall did catch my eye - it looked like a colourful shack dwelling, much like the shacks in the townships back home in South Africa. 

I fell out on the way side of the moving crowd to a food stall that immediately drew my attention. Not only did it smell good but the stall chef was doing cool-as-ever acrobats with the gigantic crepes he was making. I started making conversation with the stall chef Daniel and his colleague, Simba (if I can recall correctly)  who were being very artistic with their giant crepes. They hail originally from Cameroon and have been living in London for quite some time. Daniel smiled when he learned I was from South Africa and seemed more than happy to meet someone from Africa too. I then requested a chocolate Nutella, banana and strawberry crepe for four Pounds and bid them farewell. It was the biggest and loveliest crepe I had yet and it tasted so good in the midst of my hunger angst that I did not seem to mind it was a tad too sweet. 

Simba making my strawberry, banana and chocolate Nutella crepe

With my hunger having been satisfied, I could now marvel at other aspects of Brick Lane, which is also well known as the ‘Mecca’ of street art in London. It is a familiar turf for street artists such as Ben Ein and Banksy (his work has since been removed or defaced in Brick Lane), but there are so much more other impressive works just off Brick Lane. The better street art murals are displayed in the open yards, which are down the dark dodgy-looking alleyways protruding from Brick Lane. I was utterly gutted to discover that I had run out of camera memory - of course coming to Brick Lane on the day was unexpected to say the least. One thing I can say is that the street art here is unbelievable and instead of Brick Lane sharing the same dreary bland fate of Whitechapel High Street - it has been immersed in a world of tasteful colour, a living wonder and a playground for postmodern imagery. I cannot imagine Brick Lane without its street art, for without it it is akin to experiencing a Wonderland without an Alice, a chocolate factory without its Willy Wonka if you know what I mean.

I left Brick Lane feeling entirely unsatisfied in making the most of my time there. This place has so much to offer and I left with but a handful of photographs. Brick Lane is also quite significant as its the only area in London where I’ve seen bilingual signage. The Lane itself is a street catwalk for the many young crowds modelling the most unusual (almost postmodern) fashion of the era and who don’t mind being photographed at all. These are the life capturing moments I missed including the opportunity to engage with residents living in the Lane. The experience of Brick Lane made my day complete but somehow left me wanting for more and I know that when I do return to Brick Lane (aware that it is a place in a constant flux), that it may not be the same as when I left it. There may, in all likelihood be new trends, new works of art…its a place I’d say that adapts to the cultural vivaciousness of its time. One thing for sure is that I’m not done with Brick Lane yet. 

Roa’s Crane in the background

A signature of Banksy still remains where his artwork previously existed. 

I had no idea that I was going to be in for a major culture shock as soon as I exited Camden Town Underground Tube station. This was a Saturday that I was looking quite forward to, as I have previously heard about Camden Town and its infamous markets. The Underground tube on the Northern Line was packed on that particular day partly due to maintenance work on two other lines and there was a huge football game at Wembley stadium. And oh boy, what it’s like for a wee lass trying to ‘mind the gap’ whilst getting off a packed train, and escape the hordes of people pushing you from behind, was commanding to say the least. But little knowing, there was another reason for the packed-like-a-sardine trip to Camden Town. 

It was a relief coming out of the congested tube station onto Camden High Street with bones aching and all. I was not sure whether this was due to the cramped up trip from Victoria or the cold, or both. However, that did not seem to matter as soon as my mind began setting in to what was going on around me. In fact I was so taken aback by the sights and sounds of this place that my hands were literally shaking with excitement, I could barely hold my camera to take a decent photo.Camden High Street is one busy street, In my opinion, it’s second to Oxford street (known to be the busiest street in all of Europe) as far as being seriously busy is concerned. There’s a rush of crowds coming from everywhere but the majority seemed to be moving in the direction of the markets. I was completely enamoured by the diversity of the area; nobody seemed to be bothered about what background you’re coming from…as long as you’re a paying customer interested in buying goodies. Name any category of popular culture, be it post punk goth, metal heads, technophobes, geeky hipsters, Reggae funksters, curious yuppies, etc - they’re all in Camden Town. 

We first made our way up to Camden Lock Village on Regent’s Canal. The decorative market stalls are an attraction in itself - for instance, there was one stall that looked like an army base! A particularly striking feature was the shaded moped-designed eating area, which made one look as though you’re comfortably perched on a scooter - I found this quite refreshing than the often sight of the conventional eating space. While other folks took advantage of the sunny weather and preferred to lunch along the grassy bank of the Canal. It is also worth taking a walk along the Canal, especially if you’re a street art enthusiast. While walking along the Canal in the direction of Kentish Town, I happened to find the site of London’s oldest graffiti work done by ‘King Robbo’ (this work was later defaced by Banksy, another popular street artist).  

An eating place at Camden Lock Village with moped-designed seating  

If there’s anything I can say that completely blew me away about Camden Town was my visit to the historic Stables Market. Oh my goodness, how do I describe this experience on paper? I have posted pictures below because it’s one of those places where you have to see it in order to believe it. And I think even the photos cannot do any justice as to actually being there. It can be described as undoubtedly, the best market experience of my impending existence. To boldly describe it, a vintage collector’s haven! Browsing through the stalls, a person can find almost anything from the past two centuries ranging from immaculately conditioned vinyl records, Victorian/Edwardian style clothing and furniture, Kitschy items to World War military uniforms. I was rather disappointed that many of the stall owners on this end discouraged people from taking photos, it’s really sad - really! It’s much like being forbidden from opening your own gifts on your birthday if I can put it that way. 

After an insurmountable amount of time spent browsing and gawking, I began feeling rather peckish. I proceeded to make my way out of the horse tunnels to the pagoda food stalls. I can honestly say one can find cuisines here hailing from everywhere, and I mean from everywhere! You can take your pick and help yourself to Polish or Peruvian cuisine and even tasty delights from as far as Azerbaijan. My hungry senses drew me to an unpretentious Punjabi food stall after being coaxed and enticed by so many other food stalls to sample their supposed tasty delights. The food was inexpensive and I could choose an assortment of curries on my plate for about four Pounds. I must add that the curry here is a lot milder than the Cape Malay taste than I’m accustomed to back home in Cape Town, but nonetheless healthy and delicious. I also had my first experience drinking mulled wine - winter in Africa is not as cold as the European winter so there is no need to drink warm wine - in fact this practice is unheard of in Cape Town. In comparison to other prominent food markets in London, I found it to be a lot cheaper, more value for money, less ‘bourgeois’ and thus felt more comfortable being in my own skin, which cannot be said about my experience at the Borough market, situated near the Tower Bridge. 

Leaving Camden Town was hard to do. I don’t know if I’m in love with this place or what, but I like it, I like it immensely. I like it so much that every time I think about it I gush, heck I’d even marry it if it asked me to…that is, if I were a place too. If London had to leave an imprint on my travelling experience, then Camden Town would be it. I envy Londoners because they’ve got a place called Camden Town and by golly, I dearly wish Cape Town had its own ‘Camden Town’ despite its potential. Though Cape Town is regarded as more liberal and cosmopolitan than any other African city, it remains conservative enough not to take advantage of the cultural diversity it offers. Also, the majority of South Africans tend to prefer the mall than the full on street market experience. Hopefully, the next time I’m in London, Camden Town will be the first place to revisit in my itinerary - it is an exemplary utopia of cultural diversity. 

A tunnel thoroughfare in the historic Stables market

Decorative stalls are easy on the eyes

A stencil mural of the late Amy Winehouse

The site of the oldest graffiti in London on Regent’s Canal

The Electric Ballroom on Camden High Street - market by day, an infamous nightclub by night. 

This is an Afrikaans poem titled ‘Die Leuen van ‘n Leuenaar’ (translated in English as  ’The Lie of a Liar’). In a nutshell, it is a part metaphorical narrative of the lying self, describing the act of lying as possessing the self…The poem also expresses the act of lying as part of the intentionally heartless side of mankind-a facet of what is deemed to be evil. 

My lippe, dit byt seer op my lippe

Die bitter skreeu van die hart,

wat dreun op die tong so vieslik,

so koud, so hard ek kan nie meer voel nie.

My verdowe hart speel gevaar,

Dit dans met jou naïwe siel,

Ongetwyfeld, die hart en siel van ‘n nar,

Dit spot, en kyk diep in jou onskuldige oë

My mond, ’ marionet van my verdowende hart

spyt fyn woorde wat alles laat sterf

Die bitter tong wat vieslik op en af klap en,

Dreun the treurdig van suiwerheid

Kyk hoe beseer ek die waarheid! 

Ek dreineer die soetige siel!

Die bitter, vieslike tong van ‘n verdowende hart,

Hierdie is die verhaal van ‘n leuenaar. 

It’s a beautifully sunny and crisp, but rather cold Sunday morning in London and I am still getting accustomed to the traditional English practice of zero shopping or  trading on a Sunday, with the exception of a few street markets. Being the agitated person that I am with little going on around to interest me; which often qualifies as a favourable condition in suddenly developing a penchant for doing something completely stupid from time to time. Point in case, I sought to embark on doing the Monument Street Challenge following some deliberation.

I momentarily bid adieu to my brother in Holborn as he merrily departs with the other Gooners - there was a football game you see, and not just any other game, it was the North London Derby between Tottenham Hotspur and Arsenal. Enough said about that. Anyway, I then proceed to take the underground tube via the Circle line to the Monument tube station. I exit the station to my right and the Monument can be seen in full view as one comes out of the station onto Fish Street Hill. At first sight, it is a rather striking structure towering at 62 metres in height and the architectural features are most attractive.  

I shall tantalize you first with a bit of background history about the Monument before I continue my challenge. The Monument was built between 1671 and 1677 to commemorate the Great Fire of London in 1666. It was designed by Sir Christopher Wren, who also later designed the well-known St. Paul’s Cathedral. The Monument was formerly, the tallest free standing Doric column in the world but it remains nonetheless, a historical and culturally significant feature among many novelists and writers alike of English literature. There is a viewing balcony of the city which can only be accessed by climbing 311 steps to the top. The challenge in theory, is quite simple -climb the 311 steps at your own pace and you can only exit via the stairs again. There are no lifts or elevators! Do this and you become part of a handful of brave souls with bragging rights and a certificate from the Tower Bridge director (seriously!). 

Challenge sold! I eagerly pay my 3 Pounds and the ticket vendor wishes me luck. I feel much obliged by smiling at her gesture in return and so I face forward to the initial dark stony steps to greet my little legs. And I start climbing…

Its internal structure is rather opaque as I venture higher towards the heavens. The only light peering through is from the open frames of the building. There aren’t many open frames so it is quite dark, which does not help my cause at all. In fact, the higher you climb, the steeper and narrower the flight of stairs are and I also had to avoid bumping into people coming down the stairs, to my irritation. I did not think about pausing and looking up or down for that matter, I just climbed. It was only a matter of minutes before I saw the doorway leading to the balcony.  I must admit that I was expecting the challenge to be more of a physical and grueling one but alas! I timed myself to a little less than seven minutes in getting to the top. The view that greeted me on the balcony however, the 360 degree panoramic view of the city of London appeased me immensely. There is a cage surrounding the balcony which somewhat distorts the view above, but understandably serves its purpose as a protective barrier. Over the centuries, the Monument gained notoriety in London where many people committed suicide by climbing to the top only to throw themselves off the building, hence the required presence of the cage. 

I’d say the challenge of the Monument is more psychological than it is a physical one  (that is if you’re not physically deficient in any manner). I would strongly advise you to avoid this challenge if you’re in any way prone to vertigo, panic - attacks, fear of heights or enclosed spaces and the like - the stairs are narrow, extremely narrow and quite steep too. The view was worth the insipid challenge though, and I possibly could have simply taken a flat walk through parts of Brixton or Hackney (with a stab vest of course!) if I wanted something more commanding. Oh and I got my certificate. 

View of the spiraling stairs from above

The architectural qualities are quite impressive

View of the Tower Bridge from the balcony

A clear view of St. Paul’s Cathedral

A view of the iconic Routemaster bus

Ever since I was a wee youngling I have dreamed of the incantations of Stonehenge. Its presence surmounted in geographical text books and mythical or mysterious folklore and occurrences; as in the same genre of pseudo-scientific meanderings from UFO’s, outrageous conspiracy theories to other paranormal activities. Fast forward some twenty years later, here I am standing at Salisbury railway station intent on finding the tour bus to take us to Stonehenge. 

The two-hour train ride from Worthing to Salisbury was pleasant but left me a little exhausted and the cold became more unbearable as I journeyed further inland  towards the English countryside. How can I begin to describe it, it is like an unwanted intimacy that imposes itself on your body whether you like it or not (I know this may be too exaggerated, but I am an African and so not well accustomed to the European cold, brrrrr).  Anyway, the tour bus leaves the station at every hour and is the most convenient way of getting there if you are not travelling by car. The tour bus was to my annoyance, very ‘touristy’ (i.e. I don’t like feeling like a tourist or taking sightseeing tours, etc - I prefer travelling or ‘going on my on’ as they say), but then again I got to hear interesting bits of information on the towns of Salisbury and Amesbury while passing though. The trip from Salisbury to Stonehenge can be best described as a beautiful, flat terrain of farmlands, flora and unprecedented calm like no other. 

Stonehenge is in the middle of a beautiful nowhere! At first, it looked like a bulging up of rocks from the sight of the road in the tour bus and thought this was going to be a disappointment. It is only when I started walking to the actual site that I eventually became intrigued by the magnitude of the stones - certainly a nondescript structure compared to the backdrop of the beautiful scenery, but it is the oddity of the stones that is particularly striking. I cannot explain it, much like a Rubik’s cube messing with your head. It’s the how, what and why’s that run through my head. The structure does turn heads upon observing the number of cars deliberately slowing down on the A303 highway to catch a glimpse of the stones. And the folks who came around the world seemed happy to be there. Everyone taking group photos wanting their picture taken with the stones providing the backdrop to their presence, smiling and feeling gay. The only disappointment being that I could not get close enough to the stones to touch them, but I can understand that there have been folks who have previously thwarted this opportunity for the masses of future generations by causing erosion and thus, threatening the ecological landscape. 

I did not feel any ‘psychic energy’ or capture any mystical powers or sense of druidism as some have described. I guess it depends on your worldview; if you’re not as intrigued by the aesthetical or philosophical qualities of the life world, then you’d probably find Stonehenge at best, to be a ‘flattering’ experience. I suggest then that you buy yourself a ticket to Disneyland or shop around on the streets of Milan or Oxford Street instead if that’s what you consider for a mind blowing, fulfilling experience. 

For me, being at Stonehenge I was filled with a sense of appreciation and I left feeling contented and at peace- easily distanced from the cares and hustle-and-bustle of the world. Stonehenge most certainly reserves its respect as the most intriguing structure of neolithic engineering even in this age of advancement. It is definitely something worth seeing at one point in your lifetime.  

This is the closest view without zooming the camera lens. 

From a further distance - still a wonder to look at.