Streets of London

I was born in south London, in Teddington, in March 1966. Shortly after that, my parents moved themselves (and me) to New Malden, still several miles south of the river. I don’t recall actually going into London much as a child, it was just where my dad went to work each day.

In my teens I went up a bit more often, usually to go to a record fair. In those far off days – the early eighties – you could set off from our neck of the woods and drive into the centre of London in about 25 minutes.

However, in 1988, when I started my first proper job, I had to attend a five week course near Tavistock Square, which is a short walk south from Euston station. It was my first exposure to the horrors of the rush hour commute. At lunchtimes we’d go out to buy a sandwich and this was my first introduction to the back streets of London.

In roads parallel to the main thoroughfares was another world: calmer, cosmopolitan and cool. Rather than hurrying back to the training centre to be further confused by Cobol, I fantasised about spending my afternoons sitting in the sunshine outside one of these small, continental cafes. Happily, I do a lot more of that, these days (although I didn’t have time to stop, today, because I was hurrying for the train. It’s not all laughs, you know).