- A new beginning.
On Wednesday the 3rd of January, 2018, I finally sold my flat in Chichester and moved to London.
I am now living in Wood Green with my son Jamie, his wife Eddi and two young boys aged 6 and 5.
I am very pleased to be here, last year I joined two art groups and a writing group.
I find people in North London quite different from the folk in Chichester where the population is mainly white middle class.
In London, contrary to what I had been told to expect— when I decided to move here— everyone I have come across is very friendly.
I think this could be because North London is comprised of several quite small districts, almost like villages, even the names point to this; Wood Green, Palmers Green and so on.
In my ‘village’, near Alexandra Palace, the shop workers are all very friendly, more like my childhood home, Chertsey, a small town in Surrey
Last year I had my first taste of North London nightlife, when I was invited to a garden party in Archway, the garden was very small, with raised beds on all sides, leaving just enough space for a table and several chairs.
When we were all seated— about twenty of us— it was very cosy, the evening was still warm after one of the hottest days of the year, the food had to be passed round as it was not possible to move once we were sitting down.
The owner of the house, who was sitting next to me was rolling a cigarette with great care, I asked him what tobacco he was using, he looked at me for quite some time before he said with a little smile, that it was weed.
I remember people growing their own tobacco back in the 60’s, but I have never heard it called weed, and looking around the very well kept garden, I could see nothing resembling a tobacco plant or for that matter any weeds.
Trevor— he was Turkish with an English name, which was quite amusing— rolled another cigarette, he took a couple of deep puffs and passed it to the lady next to him, who did the same and so it went round the whole party, it missed me as I don’t smoke.
This went on all evening, Trevor kept making more and more cigarettes, it was like they were all chain smoking.
The evening was a great success, we were all chatting away like excited children, someone was playing a guitar and we all joined in some singing. Until the guitarist suddenly fell asleep.
In the small-enclosed garden with hardly a whisper of air, there was a cloud of very pleasant mist that hung over us, probably from the smoking that was going on.
After the party was over I drove back to Ally Pally. Although I only had one glass of wine all evening I felt as if I had drunk the whole bottle.
Dally, who lives with us, asked me what I had been up to, as I looked a bit green, when I told him about the party he nearly wet himself with laughter.
He said it was a good job I wasn’t stopped by the police as I was—as he said—high as a kite.
I like North London everyone is so friendly, I’m waiting for another of these party’s.
It’s so unlike Chichester.