MY GUIDE TO HACKNEY WICK

Usually when I tell people where I live, the response is one of horror! "Hackney Wick! why the hell would you want to live there?" Not being London born and bred I seem to have missed the stories of Hackney's past that has some how built up in people's mines that it is some sort of ghetto hell hole, where you can't walk out your door without being robbed or murdered. Ok so Hackney Wick is not the most pleasing place on the eye, but I love it and would not want to live anywhere else right now. In fact in the june 2008 issue of Time Out, Hackney Wick was featured as the place to be right now. So this post is dedicated to the wick and its delights?

OSLO HOUSE



Well where better to begin than where I live. Looking at this old converted clothing factory you might not think of this a being a place in big demand for people wanting to live, but it is! Oslo over the years as become a bit of a Hackney Wick legend with it's wild parties, creative residents and unconventional ways of living. Its actually looking a lot better these days as it had a bit of a make over last summer (only because the coucil complained about the state of it!) and the whole building was painted. Unfortunatley it was painted in Lilac and Maroon (The landlords must of got it cheap or something!) Mustn't complain though, as its quite nice not to see "Your mother is a hoe" and "Shaznay is a fat slag!" written everywhere. The building also stands out, due to the big Hackney Wick letters on the roof ( Incase you forget where you are!), which Laura from the building put up as an art piece for the first hackney wicked festival in the summer. Unfortunately as Laura herself said, she should of made it out of wood instead of plaster board as its not doing to well with the British weather and now only saids HArKNF WICY.

THE OLYMPICS




Love it or hate it! The Olympics are coming, and it just so happens they are coming from down the street from us. Ok! so it doesn't look like much at the moment. All we can see at the moment is a load of cranes and tops of diggers, all surrounded by a blue fence with idealised pictures of the Olympic village which will look nothing like the real thing, for a start its sunny on them! The area is going to change so much over the next 4 years. It already is, with buildings being knocked down at the rate of knots and news ones rising in their place. I just hope it does not change to much and looses it character and becomes another of a long list of picture perfect souless suburbs of London.

THE LORD NAPIER



Those of you in the filming industry will probably know the Napier, as its used as a a location quite a lot. The Napier is also know as the squatters pub, as yes you have guessed it is also a squat. These are not just any squatters though! These are clever squatters, not only do they make good money from renting it out to film crews, but they also have now and again a big rave up here. I saw the aftermath of the last one as I was going to work at 6.30am on a Sunday morning (Sad I know!) and saw a mass of sprawled bodies on the floor outside. Another time before that I tried to go on a Saturday night but got told I was too old as it was underage night!

VICTORIA PARK



If you cross over the bridge that it is one of the few escape routes of the A12 that surrounds the Wick, you find another world on the other side. This world is called Victoria Park (Or Vicky park as us locals call it!) It is a green peaceful haven that it is a deep contrast to the industrial landscape of the wick. Sometimes you forget that you are in the middle of Hackney when your here. Not to say its all peaceful and quiet as in the summer its home to many events including the "Love Box" festival and was the location of Radio heads concerts last year. It is by far and away my favourite park in London and it seems its quite a few other peoples as well as it was voted favourite local park in summer of 2008 by the readers of "Time Out" magazine.

VICTORIA PARK VILLAGE



This seems to be the upper class area of the neighbourhood, with its "Yummy Mummies" pushing their designer buggies around and being catered for with its ever increasing over priced boutique shops and cafes. All that said the village is not without its charms and little gems.
The first of which is Namo. With its big Vietnamese community, Hackney is the place to get the best Vietnamese in London and along with the Huong-Viet in Dalston is my favourite . Namo is a a lot more visual pleasing on the eye than Huong _Viet, with its modern if not slighty kitsch decor. It even has a tiny a tiny out door patio complete with heaters. The staff are really friendly and the prices really good that you will never pay over the odds here. I love the summer rolls and the monk fish. My mouth is just watering writing this.
NAMO: 178 Victoria Park Rd. E9 7HD TEL: 0208533 0639



Namo also has a cool Bansky on the end of the building which the council tried to deface by trying to remove the penis. Fortunately, no matter how hard they tried to remove that penis it would not go.




Other good recommendations in the village are the Lauriston which makes really good home made pizza in its stone bake oven, and has a good old duke box. I Have got pissed in there a few times thanks to the bar man feeding me free shots. The Royal Inn In The Park also does decent food and the beer garden is great but busy in the summer. Worth a mention is Elbows Cafe which does a small and simple menu, but it means they stick to what they are good at. The Ginger Pig butcher next door does the best cuts of meat around. Its expensive but worth it for a treat.



The Lauriston: 162 Victoria Park Rd E9 7JN TEL: 02089 855404



The Royal Inn In The Park: 111 Lauriston Rd E9 7JH TEL: 02089 853321

HACKNEY CENTRAL

There is much more to hackney central than just Tesco, illegal DVD sellers and drunks. Though still very much dirty round the edges (Probably in the middle as well), central has seen a huge rise in its popularity in the last couple of years as people have learnt to embrace the rough and the dirt and this is seen no where better than the Dolphin pub. The Dolphin which is a good example of a grimy local in Hackney has over the last couple of years, gathered quite a following of "Hoxton Trendies" who are migrating more east in their search to live like the "Common people!" To be fair the dolphin is not the best place to be sober in, as you walk in and are scared by the last of the true locals, the dirt of a pub that has not been cleaned in a century and the smell being omitted from the toilets. Once under the influence though, one can feel right at home here having their little working class dirt fix. Waring though, don't lean over the fence in the pub garden as I got bit by the pub German Shephard and spent the rest of the night in Homerton Hospital in a drunken haze.



THE DOLPHIN: 165 Mare St Hackney TEL: 0208985 3727

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST....

Is the Palm Tree Pub. One of the last true East end pubs. Set back from the road and along Regents Canal, going to this pub is like stepping back in time. The decor is so tacky and bad taste it becomes cool and the owners and the bar maids are all quite glum and sour faced like there on the set on Eastenders or something. The toilets are tiny and half way through the night a bunch of Chaz and Dave type geriatrics come on the tiny stage in cheap suits and start playing jazz. Maybe not everyones idea of heaven but I had a good time. The only let down are the drink prices that are not so old East End! Maybe they are saving up for a new till as the one they have now looks like its from the turn of the century.



THE PALM TREE: Haverfield Rd Mile End E3 5BH

LETS WRAP IT UP!

2008 has been a good year though it did not end too well, with the whole of our house coming down with the flu just before Christmas. I haven't had the bloody thing in years and it proper knocked me for six. So I spent most of Christmas day coughing up my guts taking over the role my mother has cherished for the last three years. I think she was slightly jealous of me stealing her invalid limelight, as her response of "Well you know what I've been through for the last couple of years!" was not the most caring. I managed the turkey roast and a couple of glasses of bubbly which I later saw again as I threw it all back up on my mum's sofa later that night. Luckily Jan cleared it up, much to his displeasure as it was during Eastenders and he was dying to know who the father of Roxie's baby was. New year was spent in the wick (Hackney Wick for you who are not down with the lingo!). After a lot of the usual crap of what we were going to do for new year and not doing any of it, we decided on a last minute house party. I think it was very good what I can remember? The first day of the New year like it has been for so many years was spent mainly in bed with a hangover and tidying the flat which looked like more of a bomb had hit it that usual. I have made my resolutions and wishes, for 2009 that will probably last 5 minutes, but I will stick to making it a good year.
No observations this time. I have decided to recap on 2008 with the good and bad so here it is:

2008

BEST FILM: The Fall

Probably not the best or strongest of stories but when a film looks this good all that goes out the window. Just beautiful.



BEST TV: Summer Heights High

I'm totally addicted. So close to the edge, but the funniest thing in ages. Chris Lilley is a genius.



BEST ALBUM: This was a close one for me as I loved the Vampire weekend's, Beirut and the Kings of Leon, but the winner has to be Elbow and the Seldom seen Kid.



WORST MOMENT 0F 2008: The Flu was bad but nothing beats the Bed Bug invasion!

BEST MOMENT OF 2008: There were so many but I it has to be those Gilli Island sunsets. The most beautiful ever and lasted forever to.



FOUR WEDDINGS AND NO FUNERALS (THANK GOD!):
Weddings are like buses: haven't been to one in years then 4 come along at once. 2008 was the year of the wedding. First my brother and yuko, who now have baby on the way. Then the wedding of the year(without OK magazine!), my oldest friend Liz and her lovely fellow Paul. Third was Kaye a child hood friend and then last Jan's friend Mihal and Gosia in Krakow in Poland. Polish weddings rock, all that Vodka! Anyway I wish all the couples the best for 2009 and hope I have some more weddings in 2009 (There a good way of getting pissed for free!)



WORK:
After the travels it was back to the grind. I returned to Holby City again and did a spell on Jonathan Creek, but it was Trinity that was high light of my year, work wise. Believe me this show will not win any awards and will be probably a big pile of crap, but for the fun factor it comes in at number one. I got to work Miss Beard for the first time and the lovely Hen came into our lives. Also we had the mad and brill Miss June Nevin, a great cast and all are mates in to do dailies. Great fun.



AND FINALLY:
It was a historic moment when Barrack Obama was elected the American President, but I am going to Miss poor old W. Yes he is an idiot, but what entertainment he has given us for the last 8 years. Politics will never be as funny again. Wait a second we still have Boris Johnson!

SANTA BABY!

Santa baby, I've been a awful good girl. So I would like the following for Christmas. Well a girl can dream can't she!

I have a little collection of perfumes. With my favourite being Jo Malone orange blossom but I do believe this could be up there as a new contender, with its fruity smell mixed with Iris. Love it!



Do Son Eau De Toilette Diptyque £58 www.spacenk.co.uk

I do love my bags and I do love art deco, and this little number by Laura Bohinc combines the two wonderfully. Unfortunately the price is not so lovely.



The Tatiana clutch bag £675 www.larabohinc.com/start.html

I'm loving the sailor look at the moment and I have always loved the 1950's so when I saw this dress I just thought I have to have it. Unfortunately it has sold out. Dam it!




The Bettie Page Wiggle captain dress £65 www.pinup-parade.com

As its getting very cold I need some new gloves and these look very lady like.



Leather driving gloves around £30 http://leatherglovesonline.com

OBSERVATIONS

* I have very expensive tastes.

TIS THE SEASON TO BE JOLLY?

It soon became apparent to me after I got back that I had returned to a very depressed house hold, it must have been bad as this was coming from an actually depressive. "I'm the only depressive in this house!" I thought. It would have been quite easy to join in but instead it had quite the reverse affect. I just couldn't bear it so I set on a course to spread Christmas cheer ( From now on then if I get depressed everyone has to be depressed too, to cure me of it, OK!). The first thing I did was go and get a Christmas tree, much to Jan disdain as it appears I am going out with Germany's answer to Ebenezer Scrooge! He says he doesn't like Christmas, to which I said "Well you won't like all those presents I got you either, so I will have to take them back!" He shut up after that. Well anyway, its amazing what a £30 tree from B&Q and some cheap Dec's from Asda can do to lift the spirits. Oli did most of the decorating of the tree in true prop man style: I threaded some popcorn which oli said looked like a bunch of bones: Sam came home to find the tree done, so just moved all the decorations round, so she felt like she did her bit and Jan just stayed on his computer! (Bar Hum bug!)



Later still caught up in the Christmas feel, me, Angus and Sam let off one of Angus's paper lanterns with a wish and saw it float high above the Hackney night sky (You so know Hackney police got loads of phone calls about a UFO being in the area that night).



To add to the merriness I have brought a festive CD with Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby, which I will play at our house Xmas dinner on Thursday, which will probably just turn into a piss up as there will not be anything to eat as I will burn everything!

OBSERVATIONS

* I seem to be spending a lot of time just sat on the toilet, as the bathroom is the warmest room in the house. Bloody freezing!

* I am actually missing picking all the dirt out of my nails, like in India (Well it's something to do isn't it!)

* The best way to Christmas shop is just to get pissed! Me and the sister, Paula do it every year on our annual Christmas spree. Its amazing how presents look so brill when your drunk, instead of a pile of crap!

WHO'S THE DADDY!

Indians just love their mobile phones. Even though it is one of the poorest countries on earth everyone seems to have one, even the beggars on the street (they probably ring each other to see how business is doing!) This is why India has the quickest growing phone market in the world with 2.4 million new users every month! The biggest lovers of their phones though are the Indian men who seem to see it as some sort of penis extension. At every opportunity they can't wait to whack it out and show off their little handset, especially in front of the women. They parade all their phones capabilities by taking photos every second (Usually of me when I'm not looking, so they can show it to their mates and say I'm their girlfriend!) and playing some awful Bollywood music to the max when your trying to sleep on the bus. They must think, us westerners have never seen a phone before they way they carry on with theirs. I use to keep my phone hidden due to security and not wanting any attention, but with my recent annoyance with local men, I just couldn't resist pulling out the iPhone in front of them and seeing their facing drop at the sight of my penis extension. Who's the daddy now I thought.
It was only the phone stunt that gave me any sort of pleasure on my final train journey back to Delhi from Jaisalmer. The 19 hour journey, which turned into 24 hours due to delays, was so long long it felt like pulling teeth. Opposite me there was an American woman who instead of being fed up of Indian men's constant questioning, loved it, because it meant that she could about herself for hours on end (Being American she was very good at it!) I had to listen to how she had found her spiritual soul in India and about her meditation and all the Guru's she had met. All I could think of was I wonder how many of those Guru's she has probably slept. Then some strange half dead looking traveler guy (Some people stay in India to long!) appeared on the train and kept trying to talk to me. I think he was Irish but was not quite sure as I could not understand what he was saying half the time (To many drugs!)
After finally reaching Old Delhi train station, I then survived a Tuk Tuk drive from hell to Paharganj. The driver who had an extra thumb was the worst driver I have ever met in my life and believe me with all my time in Asia that is saying something. He bashed about 6 vehicles, knocked a old man off his bike, kept stopping to talk to his mates, and then dropped something under his seat and proceeded to look for it while still driving. Then at the end of it the cheeky bastard asked for a tip!, to which my response was: "Tip! Tip! You should be paying me for that journey. You have also added 10 years to me alone on one trip and as a woman reaching 30 next year I really don't need that now!" He smiled and laughed
"Yes madam! Tip madam!" I don't know why I bother sometimes!
I spent my last night in Delhi intending to do some shopping but after an encounter with a young jewellery designer who asked me to go and drink chai with him (He looked like my brothers best mate Adam, so I decided to trust him), I found myself with all his mates, (who were all young Kashmiri's,) and a group of Brits and Aussies drinking beer till midnight which is very hard core in India. So I got no shopping done and went out on a high on my last night which was needed after my negativity in Jaisalmer.
The flight home passed without much incident apart from the man next to me who kept doing smelly farts. Jan came to meet at the airport with a flower which I later left on the tube as we nearly missed our stop through gabbing. The flat was little changed apart from being more untidy and with more collected junk from the house mates taking up more space. The weather is like ice as predicted and I find myself not use to it anymore and have being wearing my sexy thermals under my clothes. I walked round the supermarket yesterday with the trolley in a daze not collecting anything and got myself in a bit of a tizz at the thought of having to select and cook a meal for the first time in over a month. So I had to ring Jan to come and help me much to his horror of having such a useless girlfriend. It's always the same when I get back from my travels: the readjustment to the cold, the orderliness of everyday life. it is everything that India is not. Yes India is dirty, poor, annoying and hard but I would not change it for the world. It is my favourite country out of all I have been to. It has a life and an unpredictability to it that makes it so exciting, like an adventure. I miss it already, well apart from the smell of urine.

FACTS OF INDIA

Yes no observations this time. I thought it would be nice to end my trip on something different!

* The largest employer in the world is the Indian railway system, employing over a million people !

* India has the most post offices in the world !

* The number of births that occur in India each year is higher than the entire population of Australia?

* The only country in the world that has a Bill of Rights for Cows is India?

* people below poverty line: about 260 million

* India's percentage of global car population
India's share of global car accidents: 10%

P.S This blog will be continuing. I know I said that last time, but this time I promise.

CONVERSATIONS WITH INDIA

I am going through a drought. A drought that is of interesting travellers! Since I left the Aussie boys, and apart from one day with an Irish girl I have met people of little interest to me. All there seems to be is couples who after months of traveling together cannot bear the sight of each other and would rather read ever inch of the Lonely Planet than partake in conversation with each other: The spiritual travellers who are trying so hard to be different they all end up looking the same and finally the older package groups who swarm round in clans. Instead I have found myself spending my time with the locals. The first of my interactions came at the lake in Udiapur with a young girl who's name I could not pronounce, who was doing the daily wash with her mother. It was probably not the best of conversations as she could not speak any English and me no Hindi. She also was very keen on taking my bracelets and my Ray Bands in exchange for a tatty piece of gum. So in fact if I think about it she was trying to fleece me! My next encounter was with the travel agent know as Mr A. I am normally very suspicious of agents but Mr A was quite different altogether. A short plump little man with a starched collar and prim and proper tie, Mr A as well as travel agent also seems to be an Agony Aunt (Or should I say Uncle) to the travellers of Udiapur. He will answer any questions: How do I get there? Which is the best place to eat? What is cheaper? And what shade do you think suits me best? I spent the evening hanging in his shop along with other travellers searching for words of wisdom and found that my faith was restored in the India people, especially the men, after meeting him. I told him that he was a very good man. To which he replied
"Yes madam. I think about it alot and yes I am very good man, I am the best man!" Well yes a good man but probably not the most modest.
The next day I proceeded to Jodphur on the bus booked by Mr A. For an Indian bus it was a quite high standard (That means it did not look like is was about to fall apart any second!) On that trip I met an old man who use to be a maths teacher. Unlike the last old man on my bus trip he did not try and sit on me. He decided he would teach me some Hindi instead. After a short but intense lesson I now know how to say "What is your name?" Which I use on the locals before they get a chance to use it on me, which proper throws them, and then I learnt to say can I have one Chai (Indian tea) without sugar, as the chai comes with enough of the stuff to rot your teeth. Actually I'm surprised Indian have any teeth at all as they put shit loads of sugar on everything and I can't stand it.
Armed with my Hindi and my new faith in India I arrived in Jodphur and attacked it with a new found confidence. The hassles, the stares, the constant battles to get anything done did not bother me anymore. I stayed in the heart of the old city (or blue city as it's called because it's painted blue!) where there are little tourists (Brilliant!) I went to the night market with the mission to get Deb's a bed spread and me, some of the amazing fabrics that India, especially Rajasthan has to offer. It was there that I met two brothers who owned a fabric shop. I became their very demanding but good customer and I spent most of the afternoon hanging out in their shop drinking chai, showing them the new wonders of the I-Phone, talking Bollywood and Harry Potter. I even got to meet the family which was a lot of them, a bloody lot of them!. I do believe that was my favourite day in India so far.
It's funny how one's faith can fade so fast though. All it takes is 24 hours of the shits and vomiting for you to become another person. I caught the night train to Jaisalmer and during that trip something in my body went very wrong. I spent most of my time running back and two to the toilet which is not that easy when your on the top berth in a carriage of pervy Indian men. When I did arrive at my destination I was met of with a swarm of men shouting
"You come with me madam!"
"My hotel is best madam."
"Cheap hotel madam."
"What is your name madam."
In my bad way I'm afraid to say Kevin was unleashed:
"Will you just piss off!" I screamed
After having my usually 5 minutes cool down, I went with one of them to a clean little guesthouse, where I have spent the last day vomiting and with the shits, only once leaving on a horrible trip to the chemist with the owners young son as carer. Its not very pleasant being sick in the street in front of the locals but don't feel too guilty as it will go very nicely with the smell of urine and cow shit that is everywhere.
Today I have managed the walk to the fort which is very beautiful but touristy, with people trying to sell you anything, to which my response is a bit like a Rottweiler on heat, especially to the men. I think I might head butt one of them soon. Oh well maybe my faith will return when my strength does or I'll be in jail for assault instead.

OBSERVATIONS
* I saw my first case of bride burning the other day. Down at the lake in Udiapur a woman was washing and I saw her skin was as white as mine but she was terribly disfigured. Bride burning happens when a daughter in law does not meet expectations:IE does not produce a son, so she is burnt and often outcast from the home. For every one case reported in India another 250 go unreported. Most women will say it was a cooking accident. I felt sad seeing this woman, and then angry for her hopeless situation.

* Indian men are very vain, especially the young. There always looking in the mirror and combing their gel caked hair. Their fashion is very dodgy as well: Lots of low buttoned shirts with chest hair and jeans so tight that I'm surprised India has such a high birth rate!

* After the Mumbai attacks everyone keeps asking what it's like here. Well I will tell you: Nothing! Its like it never happened, life goes on as normal. The media as always hypes the public into the belief that everywhere is unsafe these days. My view on the matter: you could get run over by a bus tomorrow. The only way you will ever be safe is stay in a box and I don't want to be in a box. Life is meant to lived.

YES MADAM!

I do believe it must be against the law or something to have a good nights sleep in India. I don't think I have a undisturbed night since I have been here! There is always some noise or another: your neighbours having loud sex, someone coughing up their insides or nosiy crap ringtones. I thought at least in Puskar I would get a good nights kip, it being the quietest place on my trip. Oh, but no! At five on the dot the music speakers come on full whack playing some Indian song that is sung by a woman who sounds like she is being impaled! This goes on for a least an hour on repeat and then they play another god awful song on repeat for another hour. Then the other night I was woken at about 2am to the sound of a dog yelpng in the yard below me, so I swing open my doors and go and look down off my balcony to find about five of the guesthouse boys whacking their dog with a stick!
"Hello" I shout "Do you think you could stop doing that!"
They all stop what their doing and look up at me with beaming smiles.
"Yes madam! Don't worry we don't kill it we just teach lesson." says the ringleader
"Well I think it is very cruel! Whats it done!"
"Yes madam. It kill duvet and my 950 ruppes jeans. Very expensive madam."
Its then I notice the left overs of a duvet and jeans scattered across the yard.
"Oh!" I say "Well can't you get it a muzzle."
"Yes madam. What is muzzle Madam."
Oh god! why did I start this coversation.
"It's a strap that you put round a dogs noise to stop it biting."
"Yes madam. We have."
Wait a second!
"Why did you ask me what a muzzle was if you already have one."
"Yes madam."
"You don't have one do you."
"Yes madam."
Then it clicks. I look down at these smiling faces and realise the whole time they have been getting a great view up my vest top, even the dog has stopped yelping and is sat looking, tounge out and panting. Oh my god! They are looking at my tits! I quickly fold my arms and run inside shouting, "Just tie it up then!"
The next morning as I check out the ring leader smiles and says he is sorry that I am leaving as he will miss my pretty face. Yeah mate! Its not my face your going to miss, I think! Its a good job I left as I do believe they would be quacking the poor dog with sticks every night, just so the English lady will come out and dangle her breasts for them again!
The Indians are very curious people, especially the men. It can get very tiring at times. I was sat round the lake in Puskar the other day doing some sketching when to young boys approached.
"Hello madam. Where are you from."
They always start a conversaton like this!
"England."
"What is your name."
"Carly."
"Carly. Like goddess."
Yes, like Goddess."
What is your job Madam."
"Teacher." I know this is a lie but being a teacher gets you huge respect over here.
"What do you earn."
"$300 a year." Another lie but I don't want them thinking I'm rich as they might start asking me to buy stuff.
"Are you married."
"No!"
"Oh! I am very sorry because you should be married at your age."
This is so the wrong thing to say to me.
"Well actually I am very glad I am not married and I have my freedom and I probably will never get married!" I rant. So begins the ravings of a mad woman. I start to lecture them on how I love being a western woman and having the same rights as men, that we all not sinners in the west, that just because I have blonde hair does mean you can feel my arse, that women are not a lesser human being, and that women are much more intelligent then men. They sit there a bit shell shocked and lost for words and then just leave. Note to ones self: Must do more feminist ranting when wanting to get rid of unwanted attention.
I am now in Udiapur which is where the James Bond movie "Octopussy" was filmed. Love Bond! I am going on a whole days horse tracking tomorrow which I'm very excited about. Don't worry I'm much better on a horse than on a moped. Apart from that time I fell off one eyed Spruce( actually only did have one eye!) I have never been to hospital.

OBSERVATIONS
* Old Indian people put henna in their hair, which makes it look like the worst sun in job you have ever seen in your life.

* The cities in India are so polluted that when you blow your noise your snot comes out black.

* I have realised that the most used hotels in India are the railway station platforms, and why not? They have all the facilities you could need: a bed (The bench), 24 hour room service (Street cleaner and food cart sellers) and showers (Actually the drinking water tap, but the locals use it as a shower and strip down to their underwear on the platform and get out the soap."

* Indians do not know how to say no!