coffeehouse

No one should mourn a coffee shop

No one should mourn a coffee shop. We have enough. Round my way, in West Norwood and uphill in Crystal Palace, news of another one turning up can be greeted with suspicion – another chain killing off the locals, more gentrification, another pointless hipsterish place in which to consume frothy beverages, whilst staring meaningfully out of the window in…

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On the listening ridge

We think, then as the sun shines or does not. We think as wind skitters on a pond in a field Or we put mantles on our words because The same wind, rising and rising, makes a sound Like the last muting of winter as it ends. Wallace Stevens – from Looking across the Fields…

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A Stray Field in South London

At the bottom of Gipsy Hill in South East London there is a small field, just about the size of two football pitches. To the casual observer It is a fairly anonymous looking, unremarkable patch of ground. But like many such places, when looked at more closely it reveals layers of hidden depths. The field is…

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(I don’t want to go to) #Midtown

Midtown. Where the fuck is Midtown? New York? Well yes, and now apparently there is a Midtown London. Not far from where I work in Clerkenwell, a series of large orange and white flags fixed to lampposts line the major thoroughfares running through Holborn, Chancery Lane, Bloomsbury and St Giles. They state that you are…

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Waiting in the boneyard: Abney Park

Stamford Hill Motors is not the most romantic of destinations, but I always feel a frisson of excitement when I have to go there. I used to live nearby but no longer, so the annual MOT has become an excuse to visit one of my old North London haunts. It also gives me a legitimate reason to simply…