Memories of London

London is my city of many ages and phases in life. From trips to the World Educational Services for our English homeschooling curriculum, to watching the First Gulf War unfold on a TV in Pauline’s flat in Woolwich, to playing ‘Olympics’ in a 20-metre garden in the house in Eltham, to Trocadero games in Piccadilly Circus, to experiencing prejudice against being Irish on the M25, to trips up from Brighton when I was doing my MSc at Sussex, to being interviewed for the BBC, to 2019 and resuming these decades of memories. London is certainly a centre of so many processes that have unfolded across the globe over the centuries, and for me too in almost every decade of my life it has played a role of sorts.

Walking the streets of London with my father visiting the many places and locations I have done over the years brought to life so many narratives. For many years, especially between the ages of 10 and 16, London was a meeting place for my nuclear family – to meet but also as a springboard for summer adventures to other parts of Europe and North America. In London Dara and I giggled at people holding hands in public in the 1980s, we discovered what a punk was and insisted on dressing up as punks when we returned to Sudan; I learned about human evolution in the rooms of the Natural History Museum; I fell in love with bookshops in the hundreds of aisles over five floors at Foyles and we succumb to the power of consumer capitalism in the spaces of Hamleys, Lillywhites and the streets around Oxford Circus. I returned to the UK as an adult in 2007 to complete my MSc at the University of Sussex and at least once every three weeks journeyed up to London to roam the stalls of Spitalfields market, marvel at the ever-changing exhibitions at the Tate Modern, and celebrate getting a £10 ticket for the National Theatre. 

London skyline from the Tate Modern

My last two visits to London were brief when in 2009 I spent the weekend there with my father who was based in Woking at the time, and in early 2013 I interviewed for a position with the BBC in the Middle East department (needless to say Vancouver I am quite relieved I wasn’t successful). The excitement gripped me as I got off the train from Gatwick in London Bridge and began the trial of navigating the London Underground with a large backpack, and the adventure continued over the course of six days where I can contently declare I walked in many of my past footsteps recapturing forgotten tales and creating new ones. The six days I sum up in themes: walking, conversation, theatre and reflections. My father always jests that he tightens his belt after spending a week with me because we walk everywhere, and London is a very walkable city with something to encounter at every corner. Today I have the luxury of a smart phone informing me of my every ‘step’ and so my London grand total over the six days was 53km. While we walked we conversed about this and that, past and present, possible plans and global issues. There was no frame for the yarns we spun, they just weaved themselves as we walked. There were others in our tales, we met with John Challenger a colleague of my father’s from Plan International whom I had not seen since I was 13 years old! There was Umi, a current colleague of my father with whom I shared deep excitement over the possible future of educational; technology and teaching empathy. There was Gregina, a friend of my fathers who joined us for the theatre and whom I had last seen in February 2017 in Beirut in an incredibly jetlagged state. London brings with it so much flair and colour in terms of its residents, and so there was the casual interactions with so many always putting a smile on my face reminiscent of childhood fascination with how superdiverse this city truly is. One of my favourite being my chance to use the little Bangla I still remember from 12 years ago in Brick Lane where my father, John and I enjoyed an ‘Indian’ Bangladeshi lunch. There is no better city in the world to go to the theatre than London; I adore the theatre in Dublin, I admire the range of shows brought to Vancouver, but London is London when it comes to putting on a show. We did the ultimate touristic theatrical experience by going to The Globe Theatre to see the Merry Wives of Windsor, and it was fabulous to sit on those hard seats and watch actors bring a barren stage to life through their words and physical movements. Of course, there had to be the National Theatre and a dark play Rutherford and Son set in the beginning of the 20^th century in northern England where class, gender inequalities and family obligations dictate life. 

The Globe

I deliberated on whether my fourth theme should be food, but instead I work it into my reflections on the city. I was saddened by some observations during my time in London, for one Spitalfields has lost its intrigue and charm for me becoming a commercial site where there is little difference from one stall to the next. I was deeply disturbed by the stark problem of homelessness that has gripped the city, something I see in other cities as our world grows increasingly unequal, but it is incredibly acute on the streets of London. I discovered new corners to London when I visited the Imperial War Museum on my final day where there was an incredible exhibition on the role of art and culture in war; my favourite was how music is used as a means to combat the harsh political and violent realities of war. I survived the hottest night and day ever recorded in London’s history, marveling at how inapt we are as a species to deal with a break in our contextual norms. To reflecting on food, like so much else of my earlier years London has always offered so much diversity in the cuisines I have enjoyed and this trip was no different from Greek, to Vegetarian, to English fish and chips, to Indian and Argentinian. But in London I admitted my defeat to gluten – after almost three weeks of ‘cheating’ I can no longer ignore the extreme joint pain, the spontaneous nose bleeds and the abdominal pain so gluten I admit defeat. I did go out on a high note though introducing my father to one of my favourite food markets in the world Borough market and enjoying a delicious cinnamon roll and delicious coffee. 

End of gluten

There was one last deshi lass I had to see on my European travels, and so before leaving the UK I hoped on the train down to the South East and Cantebury. Vic and I met in an Air-Conditioned Chocolate coffeeshop, a rare space in the sweltering heat, and picked up our conversation where we left off in March 2014. As with my chicas in Stockholm and Oslo I reflected on how blessed I am to have such great friends in my community where time has no impact on our connections. To see Vic settled in her beautiful home within sites of the famous Canterbury Cathedral, to spend time with her husband Jessie and to meet her adorable son Eli was a wonderful end to my time in the UK. An added bonus was having Vic’s mum Nanneke, one of my original blog readers from 2006, meet and walk me to the train station on Friday morning. As Vic would say, “it was lush”. 

Fun on the swings in Cantebury

I found a poem I wrote in 2009 during one of my visits to London which sums up some of my sentiments above:

My London

A city of ages

A world that intrigued

The underground an adventurous maze

The 80s a stage of laughter

Kissing, holding hands, punks, visual expression

A world that excited our African senses

The 90s a field of adventure

A 120 foot garden, Trocadero tickets and Liliwhites

Summers spent consuming in all the city sites

London as an adult

The senses excited by the creativity

Markets, the Tate, cultural diversity at every turn

A world within a city

A lifetime of memories of my ages

Final stop before Dublin on my European whirlwind adventure is Madrid and 48 hours with two of my undergraduate Maynooth hostel ladies.       

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