pumpkinstrokemarrow

Headed on south over the crest of Stamford Hill. Several Kosher butchers and one serious looking baker. But no restaurants, not at least as far as we could see. After which we came across the Abney Park Cemetary. More or less abandoned in recent years but now being turned into a nature reserve, although there still seems to be some burial action. Splendid place full of the funerary ambitions of all the local tradesmen. And very grand some of them were too. But the grandest was for one Isaac Watts who, it seems, penned many of the ditties that we used to whack out at school assembly. It also seems that having been employed as tutor in the house of the Lord Mayor, one Sir Thomas Abney, he subsequently married the widow and they lived happily ever after in her marital pad in Abney Park. Wikipedia says that he was buried in Bunhill Fields which seems to be somewhere quite different. Confused.

There was also the fanciest cemetary chapel I have ever seen, sadly rather delapidated, but including a very grand entrance for the coffin carriages. Same sort of thing as that at what used to be the Treasury building. And some very grand entrance pillars at the main entrance. But rather unpiously built to an Egyptian flavoured design, presumably reflecting our perception that the ancient Egyptians were very keen on matters funerary.

On to lunch in a little cafe with some of the best salt beef I have had for some time. Not quite up to the grand stuff you used to be able to get in Great Windmill Street but a good deal better than the usual fare. Kept in hot water which might have helped to keep it loose and soft. Made the mistake of having it with mustard in a crusty roll. Mustard too strong and the roll too crusty. Both detracted from the flavour and texture of the beef. Will know better next time.

Pushed on through the Turkish quarter - Anatolian rather than Cypriot we thought. Lots of it with lots of restaurants and bakers - but one can't sample everything in one visit. Also the mosque of the previous post. Just past the mosque there was an establishment called the Rose Hotel. 24 hours a day and the best value in town. Not altogether clear what sort of business the hotel was in.

Called it a day at Haggerston where we sat in a little park behind the tracks and admired a shut but live church and some post war flats - the four storey brick jobs with outside walkways, tiled roofs and chimneys - being turned into rubble to make way for the next generation of social housing. Also some rather handsome older housing, just the thing for an up and coming banker willing to take a punt on the area. Caught the 149 to London Bridge then the RV1 to Waterloo which nipped along Upper Ground just south of the river. Didn't know buses used it. Transport costs for two for the day £13 and a few pence.

I like the new bus maps which give a street map of the immediate area you are in, marking the bus stops and what have you in a clear way, then opening out into a tube map style map of the bus routes so that you can see where you might be going. See, for example, http://www.tfl.gov.uk/tfl/gettingaround/maps/buses/pdf/londonbridge-2163.pdf.

At Waterloo got an LRB for once in a while, where I thought I had found the quote of the election. So the LRB says that Robin Blackburn says that Marx says that (paraphrasing) the slice of the National Pie allocated to the toiling masses is more commonly known at the National Debt. Clearly a prescient chap.

But this was capped this morning by the butcher at Cheam who observed, while chopping up my chops, that for a country of some 55 million people, we don't get much to show for it come election time.