She Loves London

Category: Tried and Tested

Occasionally she tries something in the name of blogging, and tells you all about it.

  • My First Open House London In Photos. Lots of Photos.

    My First Open House London In Photos. Lots of Photos.

    On Sunday I volunteered at Open House London.

    If you’re not familiar, Open House is a yearly event that most Londoners usually hear about three weeks after it happens. At which point, they’re like “oh god, yeah! I always mean to go to that, is it good?” and you’re like “well it’s meant to be, but I don’t know because I always forget it’s on” and then you both agree to go next year and, that, my friends, is generally the end of that.

    But weirdly a lot of people do remember it’s happening without having to tie themselves to volunteering and thus signing up for weekly e-mails that effectively say, and I’m paraphrasing here, YOU HAVE COMMITTED TO SOMETHING, YOU FLAKY BASTARD: DO NOT FORGET TO TURN UP. In fact, not only do people remember, but they arrive outside the Gherkin at 5am on a Sunday and form an orderly queue.

    And by far the best thing about volunteering – apart from getting to skip the queues, having lots of people be very nice and polite and smiley to you for three hours, and being mistaken for someone who could answer questions like “what are the three crowns on the company’s crest symbolic of?” and “how did they light the rooms in here before electricity?” – was that I got to have a nose around Draper’s Hall before everyone else arrived.

    Much like myself, Draper’s Hall had just undergone its yearly wash and was looking absolutely banging.

    After my shift ended and I’d been fed (seriously, big up Draper’s Hall – that lunch was A+) I set out to visit as many buildings as possible, with the side aim of seeing how many people I could irritate by brandishing my volunteer’s priority badge and walking past them to the front of the queue (answer: at least 4).

    I started small, with St Boltoph’s in Aldgate.

    Then headed down to Lower Thames Street to Custom House.

    Then because I mega like really really old stuff, I went across the road where there were actual, real life, extremely ancient remains of some Roman baths.

    Did you know London had Roman baths?

    I did not.

    But mate, I shit you not. Underneath the city in what is otherwise pretty much a car park, let’s be honest, there they are. Roman Baths:

    Next stop was another one of the livery halls.

    This time, Apothecaries Hall. Where the outside had just been re-painted in an excellent shade of cobalt blue.

    The inside wasn’t too shabby, either.

    And if you were walking down Liverpool Street over the weekend and wondered what the massive queue outside the Andaz Hotel was all about, it was all in aid of this:

    After that, it was about half past four and, bloody hell, my feet were starting to ache.

    That’s the bit no one tells you about Open House: you end up walking for miles and standing a lot and eventually will zone in on anything remotely resembling a seat, even if that seat is a ceremonial chair in a Masonic Temple.

    But by this point in the day, instead of feeling well tired, I’d really got into it.

    Aside from being able to get inside so many extremely good buildings, it felt like a good excuse to just roam the City taking photos.

    So, here’s a truth bomb.

    I usually feel pretty self conscious taking photos in public. Which is weird because these days photos and blogging are pretty much part of the same deal.

    The fact is I’ll often see things I want to take photos of around London, but for whatever reason – either there’s too many people around, or I feel awkward standing there trying to get the right settings, or I just feel embarrassed about getting my camera out in front of people – I’ll let the moment slide by.

    But not today, bitches.

    I think it was partly because everyone else at Open House was doing it – Gorillapods ‘n’ all – and taking their time, and 90% of people who were around had cameras slung round their necks.

    Whatever it was, there were a few occasions where I just stood on the street snapping away without really caring who was watching.

    Two men on a bench were having a good old stare when I was taking this one, which normally would have made me rush it and shuffle on. But on Sunday, I gave them a little wave instead.

    The nosy little bas– 

    And alright, it was also easier because the Square Mile’s verrrrry quiet at the weekend.

    It was nearing 5pm when I found Leadenhall Market pretty much empty, so I stuck around to make the most of that.

    Then I wound my way back to Liverpool Street station past all the high rise offices and glassy Shard wannabes, via that weird building with all its pipes on the outside.

    The Open House closing party didn’t start til 6pm, but by 5 o’clock I was pretty knackered. My first Open House had done me in.

    So in another world first, I actually passed on the offer of free booze and went home.

    I’ll go next year though. Promise.



  • Where To Meet Mates In The Evening If You Don’t Fancy The Pub

    Where To Meet Mates In The Evening If You Don’t Fancy The Pub

    Ever get that thing where you just don’t fancy the pub?

    It’s probably an “I’m 32 now” thing, but occasionally, you just want to meet a mate in the evening and sit and have a catch up without getting smashed and waking up on Tuesday morning feeling like the world has thrown its heaviest, sharpest buildings on your head. You want a cup of tea. You don’t want to be out too late. And instead of spending £30 on a nice, nutritious dinner, you want a huge slab of cake.

    Either that or you’re gasping but your mate’s pregnant, or running a marathon, or doesn’t drink, or you both just want to see if the rumours are true and if it is indeed possible to socialise in London without going to the pub.

    Look, it happens. And when it does, here’s where I usually end up.

    Yum Chaa – Berwick Street, Soho

    This tea shop has a few cafes around London, but the Soho branch is open til 9:30pm. They do good loose leaf blends that actually taste how they smell, which is a minor miracle, and they also do very good cake. And if you can’t see any spaces from the window, there’ll probably be seats downstairs.

    Wellcome Collection cafe – Euston Road

    Hands down one of my favourite museums in London. The Wellcome’s exhibitions are always good, and free, and then there’s the added bonus of a nice cafe that does big pots of loose leaf tea. So go see the Modern Nature exhibit that’s on at the moment, then abandon everything for the cake. On Thursdays, it’s open until 10pm.

    Barbican Centre – Barbican

    Another fairly overlooked public space which is also on my London Good Bits list. The Barbican has a big public area and the whole place is open until 11pm. There’s tables, lots of places to sit, and cafes scattered around if you fancy a cuppa. And if you get bored of talking to your mate, there’s free wifi so you can look at your phone instead, a cinema, exhibitions and galleries ‘n’ stuff.

    The lesser spotted Sunbathing Londoners in their canal-side habitat

    City Road Basin – Regent’s Canal (Summer)

    There’s this really nice spot between Angel and DeBeauvoir on the Regent’s Canal which a bangin’ spot for meeting a mate if it’s sunny. You’ll know when you get there because you’ll see half naked people sprawled across the lock in the late evening. A bit further along the towpath there’s benches to sit and chill on, and if it rains, walk up to Proud East in Haggerston or the Towpath cafe.

    Tate Modern – Southbank

    The ideal situation here is to take your mate who’s also a member and can get you both into the member’s rooms upstairs for mega views of St Paul’s. Failing that, the Turbine Hall is free and the other galleries are open til 10pm on Friday and Saturday. Fill ya boots.

    Euphorium Bakery – 202 Upper Street, Islington

    This is my go-to cafe when I need to get some writing done after work. There are two branches on Upper Street, and the one nearest Highbury and Islington is open til 9pm for all your quiche, Tea Pigs, big tables and free wifi needs. Pro tip: the big sofa’s at the back.

    Curzon – Soho / Bloomsbury

    I’ve already banged on about how excellent Bloomsbury is generally. But the good thing about this and the other Curzon cinemas is there’s a bar / cafe area in each one, which are quite nice places to sit and / or listen to people bitch about the films they just watched. I don’t know how late they’re open, but I’m guessing it’s until the last film. And members get 15% off food and drink.

    Royal Festival Hall – Southbank Centre

    This place is a bit like the Barbican: you’ll know it for events and music and probably the rooftop bar in summer, but inside the different levels have cafes and foyers and public spaces where you can sit without having to buy anything. Also good for work meetings ‘n’ stuff. Open til 10:30pm.

    Granary Square – Kings Cross (Summer)

    Weather dependent – although to be fair there’s loads of cafes around here now you can duck into when it inevitably starts pissing it down. Granary Square usually has chairs dotted about, also fountains to run through like the child you actually are, big screens when Wimbledon’s on, and in summer they put AstroTurf down on the steps by the canal so you can sit there too.

    Know of any other places where you can just sit and chill without getting completely smashed? Share the wealth. My liver thanks you. 

       

  • I Went Back to Fabric After 7 Years and Found the Queue Quite Stressful

    I Went Back to Fabric After 7 Years and Found the Queue Quite Stressful

    Sometimes, a night just escalates.

    You’re in the pub after work on Friday (“just a quick one, I’m having a quiet weekend”) and then suddenly – well, five hours later – it’s closing time and you’re walking across Farringdon saying well look it’s just an option, let’s just see what the queue’s like.

    Then you’re looping around a series of metal barriers and joining the line, standing behind a glassy-eyed girl in a bright pink furry coat who’s currently being admonished by security because they told her to come back in an hour, and if she could speak she’d be like yeah, and what?, but she can’t and they’re all come on love, out you get, it’s only been five minutes.

    Then the queue’s moving and even though you’re not far enough round the corner to see the doors yet, it’s decided. After a seven year absence, you’re going back to Fabric.

    Fabric had its licence revoked by Islington Council last year.

    The idea was that closing one of London’s biggest nightclubs would go some way to reducing the chances of people dying from taking drugs – in nightclubs, in London, in general – which they’d probably have got away with if it hadn’t been for the growing trend of London’s nightclubs shutting up until then.

    It was happening gradually, one by one; something you’d probably only notice if you’re either very into music (me), grew up dancing in sweaty clubs (me) or go raving on a weekly basis (no longer me). “Operation Lenor”, as it was affectionately termed by the Met, seemed to be an excuse to get another pesky venue off the council’s problem sheet. Aside from anything else, places like Farringdon are a goldmine for property developers – but god, if nightclubs open til 7am don’t put a dampener on people wanting to move in next door.

    Thankfully, the world’s music community came together and kicked off. Fabric appealed, and re-opened a few weeks ago to the sound of whistles, horns, and pull uppppps.

    One of the conditions of their re-opening was that they change their door policy, and having been there myself last week, I can confirm that this has been done.

    And to be honest, you’d probably have an easier time getting into Air Force One.

    Getting into Fabric is stressful.

    We are told to come forward, then barked at to GET BACK. A man is held to one side in the queue because he did not GET BACK.

    One of our group is taken to one side and asked what he’s taken, which is nothing, because he’s not on drugs. What he is is an app developer from South America who’s a bit baffled by all the fuss, keeps whispering “is it worth it, is it really that good?” and despite my reassurance that “it was when I was 25!”, is currently reconsidering his decision to follow us into what appears to be a version of Kafka’s Crystal Maze.

    At the front of the queue, still outside, the men go into a separate security queue and eventually emerge holding plastic bowls containing the contents of their pockets ready for inspection.

    The girls (“STAY LEFT”) have our IDs scanned, our photos taken, and walk through a metal detector before coming tit-to-hand with the evening’s first body search. “Relax” says the female security staff, correctly deducing from the panicked rigidity of my torso that at this point, I Am A Little Bit Tense.

    Perhaps this is Fabric’s game plan.

    There’ve been many times in life where I’ve felt relieved about not doing drugs, and the half an hour it takes to get through the door at Fabric is definitely in the top five.

    But to be fair, as far as anti-drug strategies go, making the people who are on drugs as uncomfortable as possible by edging away at their sanity on the way in so their mild paranoia morphs into overwhelming fear and they’ll just give up and go home…I mean, it’s not a bad shout.

    Because the thing is, even if you haven’t taken drugs, under this level of scrutiny and all the shouting, you begin to start to wonder if somehow, perhaps unknowingly between the pub and the doorway, maybe you have.

    And while I’m pondering what I could have taken, another woman searches my bag, combs through the contents and removes my digital camera, sellotaping one half of a numbered raffle ticket to it, giving me the other side, and placing it into a plastic box at her feet. No one tells me why.

    All I know is this is not how clubs rolled in 2001.

    Eventually, minus one – we are in.

    And even though that was almost certainly one of my Most Stressful Queuing Situations Of All Time (non Brits: yes, this is a real thing), a few minutes is all it takes to be reminded why Fabric had to come back, why it is brilliant, and why it has the reputation it does in the world’s clubbing scene.

    Security have done their job and the crowd’s friendly. Room 1 is packed out and dancing. The sound system in Room 2 is crystal clear and brand new. The fast, hard step drum and bass tumbling out of the speakers is so loud that when you stand still, your chest keeps moving. And it’s then that your traumatic queue anxiety fades and for the first time since you suggested it back in the pub, you know: this night is going to be good.

    And it is good. It’s so good that I dance until after 6am and when I do leave, it’s with ringing ears, dirty trainers, and an absolute craving to come back and do it all again next week.

    And as long as the door security doesn’t get me first, at least now I can.