HIGH AND LOW
Today we richocheted around London, often unable to find our way, through three very different experiences. We started the morning at the E5 Bakehouse not far from our airbnb in Hackney. I had coffee and a fancy sandwich with an inviting name. The bakery cafe was filled with young people, all of whom seemed consumed by work on their computers. Then we were off by bus to central London and the Tate Gallery. It is a beautiful museum with a few expensive exhibits, a number of free exhibits and several very nice cafes. I sat in the 10th floor espresso cafe with a view across the Thames, where sightseeing boats when back and forth, to St. Paul’s Cathedral and the skyline of London. We ate a small snack there, for about $50. Everything in England is expensive, partly because the dollar is dropping because Trump’s tariffs or because things simply cost more in the UK. This is how Susie and I travel. I happily pace myself by sitting a lot and she explores.
Then we didn’t know quite what to do and decided to visit Harrods, the very, very elegant old style department store frequented by the very rich from the Europe and the Middle East as well as curious Americans. Everything here was elegant and stylish and high priced including the food hall and the perfumerie and the lady’s wear. I photographed and photographed but it wasn’t long before we tired of the super rich and decided to escape to Saravanna Bhavan, a chain South Indian restaurant that we eat at whenever we are in Delhi, but where I have also eaten in Paris and New York, as well as the all four of the Saravanna Bhavans in London. But this time Google and some chicanery, I believe, by a rival restaurant, Arya Bhavan, kept guiding us to Arya Bhavan, a very ordinary looking place. We walked and we walked, in fact we walked 7 1/2 miles and finally by bus and tube arrived at a real Saravanna Bhavan in East Ham, an hour away and far from central London. When we got to East Ham we had left European London and were suddenly surrounded by Indian London. We could just as well have been in a Mumbai bazaar with all kinds of cheap Indian goods for sale. Many women were dressed in series and kurtas and the shops were filled with garish brightly colored Ganeshes, the elephant headed son or Shiva, which people were queuing up to buy since the next day was Ganesha’s birthday. In the large Hindu temple on the main street and in the privacy of their homes the next day everyone was going to celebrate Ganesh.
We celebrated Ganesh by ordering the same thali, a tin plate with a circle of ten small bowls, each with a different curry or dessert served with rice, a papadam and a puri, that we would get in Delhi or Paris. And then as both of our phone’s batteries died we were faced with trying to get back to Hackney without guidance. We couldn’t figure it out and even the bus drivers we asked were clueless. Google maps and even our airbnb address were not available. Finally someone knew the way. We got a bus to Stratford and there in the large bus and train station got a ride back to central Hackney. By this time we had used up most of our ride money kept on the Oyster cards that we had bought in King’s Cross when we first arrived in London, but which allowed to never have to buy a ticket on bus or train and simply to touch the card in order to board either one.
We dragged back to our airbnb at 10 p.m. and fell into bed immediately.
BILLYBABA’S WANDERING 