London Lives

I’ve managed to start my Christmas shopping in November, which is impeccably organised for me. After mooching in bookshops in Fulham, I headed to Shepherd’s Bush and the delights of Westfield. I bought some things for my parents, and cards to thank friends for the lovely weekend. I also tried on some coats, including a lovely Betty Jackson one.

I caught the bus from the shopping centre. The top deck was packed with schoolchildren on their way home, which was a revelation. I’ve got a week’s annual leave (brilliant!) but it’s amazing how quickly one forgets that others are still going about their usual routine. The growing darkness outside made me assume that everyone was home from school. Of course they’re not, and they’re standing in the stairwell of the bus where they shouldn’t be, and shouting across the top deck and eating smelly chips and texting their mates. And the feisty girls are shouting back at the boys on the seats behind. Way to go. Noisy, alive and fearless. And not full of the harm that we like to imagine.

The bus across this area is the way to go. On the Hammersmith and City Line of the Tube, you just get flat slabs of warehouse West London land across Royal Oak and Latimer Road stations. The bus always reveals more.

I really must make a decision on the winter coat, though. The weather really is decidedly nippy now.

On Woman’s Hour today they were speaking about writing about places and conveying that sense of place in your writing. They mentioned Nell Dunn, who I haven’t thought about for ages. She writes so well about London and the occupiers of various areas (Fulham, Battersea). I saw the film of Poor Cow at the Hampstead Everyman cinema years ago.

Also, my new Granta magazine has arrived (No 108, Autumn 2009). It is a special edition all about Chicago. Must remember to mention this to my pal, as her sister lives there. It lies fat, unread and full of potential on my living room table. I must sort out all this autumn/winter reading and viewing as it’s piling up now. Pleasantly piling up, though.

I’m very much enjoying Jen Morrison’s Realia blog. Its rationale is Pay attention – there’s a story everywhere you go, something which chimes very closely with me and this London Lives blog.

As we move into the Bank Holiday, it became clear today that vast swathes of London’s population seems to be (a) away from London, or (b) at the Carnival. The bus slipped steadily around near-empty streets as it moved from the Edgware Road and into Paddington. No chance to glimpse Bayswater today, as the bus was diverted before then, to tuck down other roads away from the Carnival.

It’s one of my favourite areas of London, the slightly faded glamour of Paddington seeping into the whitewashed houses of Bayswater. But even here, there is an element of transition and griminess in the streets of little hotels. From here, it’s possible to explore Ladbroke Grove, or continue on to W9 and Maida Vale.

But today it was to Fulham and then Chelsea, looking for nick-nacks and cookware. Once, when I was standing outside Peter Jones on Sloane Square, a man walked past me with four Great Danes. It was like a cacophony of legs; impossible to tell where one Dane ended and another began.