HOLD UP! NOW, BOROUGH..... 

The London visit started with a somewhat darker touch. After landing from Dublin and checking into the hotel at Bolsover Street, Central London, we decided to walk to nearby Soho for dinner as it was nearly 9pm. Meanwhile the daughter had just realised that she had left her toothbrush behind and needed one. Close to Soho we saw this store and walked in and guess what, the proprietor was Mohan Patel and too eager to make conversation. He had been in London for over 30 years and still hadn't lost his Gujju accent.  So while the spouse and Mohanbhai continued with endless chit chat, breaking off only when he needed to take payments from other clients, we looked around the store picking fruits, water etc. Then two guys walked in, one was black and the other I initially mistook for another Indian but later found that he was from Pakistan. They were thin and looked more than grungy and obviously high on some substance. They were all smiles and throwing hellos around. After greeting Mohanbhai in a rather exaggerated manner, they headed for the salesman, who we later learned was Filipino. Clasping him in a tight embrace and literally lifting him up, they kept saying 'Leo Bhai you still working here,' while poor Leo was trying his utmost to wriggle out of the tight embrace. Though the duo were smiling and made it seem like they were bum chums of the proprietor, the edgy chill and the sudden sense of foreboding was palpable. It was then Mohanbhai literally whispered to us to leave pronto especially since we had bitiya with us. Even while the spouse asked if he should stay back for any help needed, Mohanbhai almost shooed us out. We left all right but we knew something bad was going to happen. On the way back after a Vietnamese dinner, we saw the store still open and crossed the road to check out. Mohanbhai was at his counter but there was no sign of Leo.The two - one originally from Pakistan and the other from Somalia - were apparently old hands at extorting money from Asian store owners. Leo, Mohanbhai told us, was fine and had gone home while he would be closing shop soon too. And the damage - 60 pounds. It was hard to believe Mohanbhai when he said that he got off cheaper that day as usually not only do they extort more money, pick up stuff randomly but damage some too just for the heck of it and that's why he hadn't called in the police! It was sickening and I hope the two get their much deserved comeuppance very soon.

With Mohanbhai with his typical Gujju grit smiling and carrying on business as usual, the sad cloud that seemed to have descended thankfully vanished. Now that there were no more demands to visit London Dungeon (get out and line up again to get in, yep did that too!) and such with the daughter leaving all that behind, it meant we could check out the markets, go to the theatres without anyone whining. Naturally, top of the market list was Borough Market. What made it better was that it was a Saturday and our old friends from Birmingham and the city itself could join us. I don't what it is about markets and the display of products that is so irresistible to me despite knowing that one is in foreign land and with  no kitchen to cook or experiment. Walking around Borough Market I begun to make a mental list of what I would have loved to take back home from there - no fresh products but only stuff like cheese, bottled produce and the like - and I had to give up almost instantly because not only did I seem to want everything but the mental list would have paved kilometres! And I did want everything but the game meat burgers. Barring pork, wild boar and occasional chicken cooked the way I like, I've accepted that I'm basically a sea food person and the idea of eating game meat in any form was enough to get me running to the furthest corner from it. The spouse I know is game for any meat (pun fully intended) but to see the daughter joining up and later relating with relish the varieties she ate almost made me feel cheated! For the record the stuff consumed included zebra, kangaroo, crocodile and ostrich. Thank god they left out camel, horse, python, alpaca and such.    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What to eat was turning out to be quite a trying matter because what you had passed by and what was on sale two counters away seemed to be drawing us in all directions. But it felt so good to see a huge empty karhai of samosas! If that doesn't make sense hold on, the samosas were all sold out. Khatam! Only the small label describing the samosas was left behind. And as we watched the vegetarian bhaji seem to be flying off equally fast. We looked at each other gleefully as if to say, see Indian dishes are so much in demand and then, promptly went to look for something non-Indian to eat!

Lets own up - aren't there moments when you dine abroad when you would give anything for a bottle of some spicy sauce to add a little zing and if nothing else settle for a bottle of Tabasco? After getting a trifle tipsy ( I think I've said this before and I will again, why is it called tipsy, try telling someone a wee high to pronounce it and what you get is a smiling tispy!) on rounds and rounds of sangria on a sunny day - I wanted that zing factor in my meal. I refused to believe our friends when they said all they wanted to eat was steamed chicken momos (dumplings) with the hottest sauce this side of the Suez. Hot as in chili hot, I kept asking quite unable to believe it. And boy was it hot! Just loved the momos and more than that the sauce with its perfect hot factor, enough to sweat out the Sangria haze- and loved hanging out with friends at Borough Market, felt like heaven.      

After some other dishes we somehow kept going back to the momos and when the friends said the best way to end the meal would be with the lemon cheese cake, one had no questions to ask but just wait for the treat and slurrp was it one.

Covent Garden Market had a snazzy surprise in store; it was celebrating August in Africa Summer Festival presented by the Africa Centre. As we walked in, the hypnotic music naturally pulled us towards it and yes, it was impossible to stop the feet from keeping rhythm, the hips from swaying and the hands.....simply dancing. More drinks, more eating, more checking out stores and more just feeling good about life. Okay there was just one tiny itchy issue - there are always these human statues dressed up in different attires getting tourists especially kids all curious. That's fine, I quite enjoy them but what is it now with these gravity defying postures and that too for hours, how the hell do they do it? I might sound like the biggest moron and dud but the golden man and the silver man had me foxed. I remember in Madrid there were these levitating human statues dressed like Indian swamis and one could finally figure out how they had cleverly concealed a tiny seat, just big enough to sit their bums, with a thin but sturdy support fixed to the platform on the ground. But this time.......

 

 

 

 

I don't know why but some sections of Camden Market reminds me of Indian markets - the hustle bustle, the thronging crowd, the colours, the noise and everything on a loud note. The spouse had some work in another part of London, so there we were, the two of us checking out whatever stores we wanted to at leisure.  For me there were hits and misses - I loved the old man in just his shorts, cap and shoes and socks jiving away to taped music, it really was a hoot. I totally disliked the two guys, one of whom had done beautiful black and white portraits on the pavement including one of Gandhi, who were almost ferocious at insisting that anyone who took a photograph pay up.  It gives me great pleasure to say I simply walked off; if they had behaved otherwise one would have happily tipped but being forced to and that too so rudely, not my  kind. I loved the Madder Hatter's (Alice in Wonderland) tea party tableau and I absolutely flipped over the t-shirts with hilarious slogans for tots. The food section of course as usual was the best. Once again preened with pride at seeing an Indian food stall called Roti House complete with a live tandoor and stuffed naans doing brisk business. For once I wanted to get a plate of stuffed naan too but the long queue put one off. The disappointment at not been able to have a stuffed naan was more then compensated by the the melt-in-the-mouth pulled pork burger with an Asian twist with spicy additions that one could throw in. That with long tall glasses of fresh juice and the final round of sinful churros dipped in luscious chocolate sauce we felt was a better deal. Strangely for a couple turning out such yummy churros I don't know why they had such a dour demeanour that was quite off-putting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we leftCamden Market and walked ahead quite a bit, we came upon a poster in one of those oriental medicine clinic and this was a real poser - which tongue are you? The poster had pictures of several tongues, or rather half tongues, in different colours each listing the symptoms the particular shade indicated. I'm still trying to figure out what category my tongue belongs to because for some strange reason I feel  I have a bit of every symptom!