Author: She Loves London

On the 149 to London Bridge

I have an enduring respect for the girl who, at 9:16am on Monday morning, barrels up the stairs of the 149 to London Bridge.

I’m not the only person to look up a bit surprised, because you don’t see many four year olds alone on the daily commute, and we watch as she pauses, waiting, trying to decide what to do next.

We’ve all been there: we’ve all risked it in rush hour, gone up to the top deck knowing the odds but giving it a go anyway, tilting our chin up, peering expectantly looking for a spare seat while also trying to discreetly check why it might be free. And there you are in front of everyone, head bobbing side to side, squinting down the bus. A pointless move at this time of day and everyone knows it, so you have to retreat quietly back down the stairs while, you imagine, the seated roll their eyes at the back of your head.

But she’s not like us, this girl, mostly because she’s four and unspoken bus etiquette hasn’t got into her head yet – so she stands there, waiting patiently at the front by the stairs.

Then her dad appears – but the bus is full, right, so I expect him to look around and see there aren’t any spare seats and do that slightly chastising louder voice parents do when they’re saying something more for the benefit of the adults around them than the kid, and announce that there’s no space, sweetheart, let’s leave these good people alone and go back down. But instead the girl – a pink plastic headband made of tiny flowers around her head – looks up at him. And in a quiet, encouraging way – more eyes than voice – he says:

“Go on.”

And then she steps between the bulky jackets and belongings, and squeezes into the aisle space between the front row of seats. Their occupants shift slightly at the intrusion, then relax slightly when they see who’s causing it, and shuffle their bags about to make space. And the whole time her dad stands there, not apologising or getting in the way, just letting her get on with what I like to think is a daily routine. No one offers to give up their seats, and they’re not expected to really, no one expects anyone else to get up.

And anyway, the girl’s fine. She’s dead centre at the front of the bus, both hands grasping the horizontal rail, eyes straight ahead: transfixed.

She’s looking out of that big window, a prime spot between the seats everyone likes the best, because from there it’s like the bus is calmly floating through the city instead of whizzing past it.

And occasionally, she just glances back at us – the stupid grown ups with our headphones in, stroking our tiny screens like delicate eggs – giving us this look that says, you’re all adults and can do what you want, so why are none of you doing this?

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19th January 2019
The Good Bits of London: Rowan’s, Finsbury Park

Image: Matt Brown

We’re over by the pool tables, and I’m getting told off.

And yeah, alright, I might have moved one of the balls a bit closer to the pocket because it didn’t go in the first time, because it’s 10.30pm on a Saturday night and I have a limited regard for the rules. But I’m saying ‘I didn’t do anything!’ anyway, and that’s when another person comes over and says ‘excuse me, can you help?’ and the security guard says ‘yeah what’s happening?’

She points to her pool table where a bloke stands, annoyed, and says ‘if I pocket the red, and then the yellow straight afterwards, what happens then?’, so with a look that says I’m still watching he’s off to stop trouble erupting in another game, and I’m off the hook.

We’ve put our names down to bowl, but it’s taking ages, so we head to the bar; someone orders shots. A group of older women to our left are sitting around a metal table beneath a single 60th birthday balloon. They’re literally unmoved by the DJ, who, it’s fair to say, is taking a “more is more” approach to the klaxon horn sound effect. He applies it liberally: over a Drake song, and a 90s RnB track, and a garage tune, and later in the night, to add emphasis to the words ‘a real good time’ on Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody.

In front of the DJ booth a cross section of north London is forming, aged anywhere from 18 and up, all moving, dancing to the songs they know. Over the music are spontaneous cheers, and the sound of heavy balls thumping onto lanes and scattering pins.

I assume that everyone in here is a Londoner because knowing about this place is the only common thread. Tourists don’t go to bowling alleys, and even if they did, they probably wouldn’t go to this one. But they should because – I realise, as the night gets louder and later – there is nothing more typically London than this.

Here, opposite the tube station in an un-pretty bit of Zone 2, is a building that’s been there for years. Not much from the outside, not much once you’re in.

And yet throughout the night it fills with, well, London: London in tight dresses and casual jeans, London with straightened hair, London with no hair, London with beards, and headdresses, and extensions, and caps; London with weaves. London in tracksuits, London in smart trousers, London buttoned shirts and t-shirts, London in trainers with patterned skirts and denim, and in boots and flats and heels.

This place is let’s go out-out meets yeah, sounds good, I haven’t been bowling in ages; it’s dingy but job-done, it’s a search on the way in, it’s where’s your ID?

It’s a chilled one but before you know it, it’s nearly 2am. The DJ is naked from the waist up, his shirt tied around his head. It’s Saturday night, but it’s a bowling alley, so how did this even happen? Alright London, you little curveball: I think it’s time to leave.

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15th January 2019
13 Nice Things To Do After Work Instead Of Going Straight Home

It’s been Quite A Week round here.

A week in which every day at 5:30pm, when they’ve unlocked the doors and let us out of work, I’ve found myself swinging between two different moods:

Mood 1: must go straight home and watch The Bodyguard and cook risotto

Mood 2: must do something nice after work in order not to fall into a pit

And while yes, one of these nights will inevitably end up being a heady mix of both of these things (drinking vast quantities of extortionately priced alcohol in a bar before going home, putting on The Bodyguard, and attempting to cook), it’s also nice to have a few slightly more wholesome “do something nice after work” options floating about. And lately I’ve found some good, cheap-ish things you can do after work in the evening, and most of them don’t cost very much. So here ya go:

1. Go for a swim.

Aside from anything else, hurling yourself into an outdoor pool or lido would really give your brain something else to think about, like do I still have toes, or how deadly is hypothermia. Otherwise, mate, the London Aquatics Centre over in the Olympic Park is very much the one. It’s indoor, very new, and it only costs a fiver for an adult (less if you’re bunking off work during the day).

2. Do some heavy breathing on a mat, or something.

The primary reason loads of people bang on about yoga is because thinking about your shitty day at work while standing on one leg with your arms in the air is really really hard to do. But yoga can be stupidly pricey in London, especially if you just want to do a one-off “today was awful, SOS” class. But the Mind Body app is good for finding cheap introductory classes near wherever you’re currently standing, fuming at the world. Also, a lot of London Borough Councils have really affordable community exercise projects: i.e these fitness classes are all £1 each for Hackney residents.

3. Bury your face into a very good book (for free).

Book shops are deffo the most calming places on earth – other day I went in Waterstone’s Islington and earwigged on a dad / daughter storytime session for a bit and it was mega therapeutic. But may I also remind you of the existence of libraries? And that you can still get books, audio books, and films instantly and for free in the year of our lord 2017? Find your local library on this page and voila! Free. Fucking. Books.

4. Borrow a dog.

If you haven’t yet made a list of people whose dog you can befriend when the world feels like it’s going to end, that’s ok. Now is the time to start. Join this website, browse a selection of local dogs, and get to know their owners. If that feels like a reach, just sign up and look at photos of other people’s dogs. I mean, it works for me.

5. Sit somewhere really busy and people watch.

IMO, the worst bits of London are the really busy parts, unless you need distracting. In which case, they are the best place to plonk yourself down, put on music or a podcast, and watch an endless stream of people going about their miserable, daily hum drum existences all around you. The bit outside Kings Cross where the swing is? Excellent spot. Ditto Southbank, where buskers will cause you to reluctantly hum along to Ed Sheeran covers whether you like it or not.

6. Go watch something you normally wouldn’t at the cinema.

I’m a big fan of just rocking up to see whatever’s on at the cinema. But again, in London – this reaaaally isn’t very cheap. Except recently I’ve found a lot of local cinemas do deals mid week to get you through the door. Like the Rio on Kingsland Road has Cheap Mondays, and £5 Tuesdays if you come in waving your Hackney library card.

7. Send a friend something in the post.

Alright, so this one might just be an excuse to go into a card shop and buy some decent stationery. But one bonafide foolproof way to feel better is to send someone an offensive / funny / stupid card, if for no other reason than you’ll probably make yourself laugh while you’re doing it. Fun fact: the postbox on Rosebery Avenue in Clerkenwell has a later 7.30pm pickup time. Don’t ask why I know this sort of stuff.

8. Invest in a re-fillable bottle of wine.

All hail the genius of Borough Wines. You buy an empty bottle (£2.50), fill it up with red, white, or rosé in the shop (£6.50), go outside, down it, then go straight back in and refill for £6.50. I jest, obviously. Street drinking’s for hobos. Buy two bottles and down them in the comfort of your own home instead.

9. Take yourself somewhere for dinner.

Because look: sometimes it helps to talk, and sometimes the last thing you want to do is discuss your awful day with anyone. Enter The Infatuation’s piece recently on places to eat if you’re rolling solo.

10. Find a midweek gig happening that night.

The absolute wonder of London is that you will find live music somewhere, somehow, on any given night of the week. And usually without getting advance tickets. Try the Jazz Cafe in Camden, The Lexington, ~~Birthdays,~~ and the Shacklewell Arms. Or have a scout on Dice app or Resident Advisor.

11. Visit a friend on the other side of London.

Part of the reason we all get so fed up is because we’re doing the same journeys and routines every day. So give your mate on the other side of town a ring and go see how astonishingly happy everyone in west London is.

12. Get up high.

You know what you need? Perspective, mate. Bit of perspective. The View from the Shard is a bit expensive (nice), but you can get half way up for free just by… getting in the lift and having a drink in Hutong. Alternatively, get on the Dangleway, or climb up any of these.

13. Go for late tea and cake.

A lot of Soho’s cafes are open late, and are a very good place to go with a book and have a cuppa. Yum Chaa, Balans Soho Society Cafe, even Caffe Nero on the corner of Frith Street is open til 2am during the week. So, there’s that. Here are more places that aren’t the pub.

Where do you go after work if you don’t fancy going straight home?

12th October 2017