This photo was taken at Cross Harbour, a place at which we arrived by accident.

How do you go to Cross Harbour by accident? It’s quite easy, really. You take the 205 bus from Islington to Liverpool Street Station, where you intend to catch a train for the next part of your outing, and then become immersed in such an interesting conversation that you miss your stop, aided by the fact that the familiarity of the route does nothing to jog your memory. Next, you change to a bus to put you back on route but by mistake board the one going in reverse direction, at which point it seems better just to carry on the Cross Harbour, take a toilet break at ASDA and start again from there!

We passed through several districts on the way. The above was taken in Bromley-by-Bow. It shows a fine old building that is now derelict that once held a post office and shops. What fate awaits it? No doubt demolition and replacement by some ugly modern building.

This not very useful picture shows what looks like a railway bridge but is in fact a park.

To be exact, it is Mile End Park which was supposed to be part of a grandiose scheme to create “green corridors” linking the centre of London to the suburbs. The plan was never carried through, leaving Mile End Park as a back-water memory of what might have been, though one that it valuable in its own right.

I took this photo from the bus as it passed through Stratford Bus Station. You may remember this bus station if you read my post Wet and windy where I recounted how I fell and was picked up and looked after by kindly British Transport Police officers before being taken to hospital in an ambulance. From the bus we saw the exact spot where fell but as we remained on the bus, there was no chance of history repeating itself!

Eventually, we reached our intended destination, a street in Upton Park called Green Street.

Before starting our exploration, however, we stopped for lunch at the restaurant shown above.

It is called Turkuoise and, as the name suggests, is Turkish. For starters, Tigger had stuffed vine leaves and I had lentil soup. To follow, we both had vegetable casserole, a good choice for a cold day like today. It comes with either rice or bulgar wheat so we had both! To drink, Tigger had her favourite, ayran, and I had my favourite, Turkish tea. (Turkish tea wasn’t on the menu but I asked for it.)

Afterwards, we explored Green Street. I don’t know how long it is but, having walked the whole length, I can say it is very long!

I don’t know what Green Street was anciently but today it is a fascinating area to explore: a long shopping street virtually all of whose shops, malls and “bazaars” serve the needs of the local Asian community.

As well as shops selling food and household goods, there is a large number of fashion boutiques stocked with Eastern-styled clothing for both women and men. Shops and stalls selling jewellery also abound.

Seeing the East Shopping Centre we went inside to take a look and found that it was a microcosm of Green Street as a whole.

We ventured off Green Street into the neighbouring residential streets. Here we found terrace houses of a by-gone age, typical of suburban London residential housing stock. Many had a flat plaque as part of the original design, no doubt intended for the householder to add a house name. Most were blank but a few had been used for a display of calligraphy in what I think is Arabic. I don’t know what this one says. If you do, please let me know!

It was a surprise to come across this large building that declared itself to be an Ursuline Convent. It’s called St Angela’s and I believe it also runs a school.

Another building of note was this one, originally called Barclay Hall. It was built in 1900 by Quakers as a religious and social centre. Some modification to the original appearance has occurred in the meantime and it has been renamed Churchill College.

Reaching Upton Park tube station was a sign that we were nearing the end of our trek. There was still a little way to go, though…

Journey’s end came when we reached Barking Road and this splendid pub called The Boleyn. The name refers to the no doubt apocryphal belief that Henry VIII’s ill-fated wife Anne Boleyn had some sort of connection with the area.

As for us, our brief connection with the area was now at an end and I was content to take myself and my tired legs onto a bus!

Today we return to London but we are in no hurry because we are having lunch with a relative before taking the train.

The day is cloudy with a promise of rain and, as we have to take our bags with us, not conducive to walking the streets. The solution is to go to Costa for breakfast and stay there until lunchtime!

I took this quick snap of the clock tower as we hurried past. It was built to mark Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee in 1887, being completed just two years later. The clock’s bell was striking 12 as I took the photo.

A little further along, we came upon this curious object. An amusing and thought provoking artwork. It is by Alex Chinneck and is appearing in a number of towns.

We had lunch in a cafe then went to Margate railway station and sat in the comfortable and elegantly furnished station buffet until it was time to go onto the platform for our train.

And here we are on the HS1, heading for London and home!

We did eventually bestir ourselves and venture forth to find supper.

Wandering about in the cold and the dark is not one of my favourite occupations but needs must where hunger drives.

As Tigger is familiar with the town, give or take the inevitable changes that occur between our visits, our search was not entirely random.

Whether consciously or unconsciously, we found ourselves in front of this pub, named, as you can no doubt see, the Wig & Pen. The significance of the name derives from the days when the nearby courthouse still functioned and counsel for the prosecution and defence no doubt patronised the establishment to celebrate their victories and console themselves for their defeats.

The courthouse, which included a small police station complete with holding cells, is now a museum.

In more recent times, the pub has acquired a new attraction: the second floor has been converted into a Thai restaurant. Knowing this was perhaps the influence that turned our footsteps in its direction.

We needed no further encouragement to hurry in from the cold and take seats in the restaurant. There we enjoyed a satisfying meal for a modest price.

Thus our second day ended on a high note. Tomorrow we return to London though not straightaway. We will spend the morning in Margate and have lunch before taking the HS1 for the return journey.

Margate is a seaside town in Kent but within easy reach of London by the speedy HS1 train. In fact, when we travelled down yesterday evening, the train was full of commuters returning home from their jobs in London.

This, by the way is where we are staying: the house with the light coloured front door in the centre of the picture.

The house is in a Georgian square of traditional design with a central garden or park.

We had a family visit planned for the afternoon which left our morning free. We had a breakfast in a cafe but they could serve us only toast (no croissants) and coffee which was not very satisfying so…

..we had a second breakfast (with croissants) here, in the cafe attached to the Turner Contemporary, Margate’s now famous art gallery.

On the way, we observed a beautiful rainbow over the sea. Unfortunately, this photo does not do justice to its splendour.

The first artwork that we came across was outside in the open air. By Yuri Suzuki, it is called The Welcome Chorus and consists of 12 speakers, one for each of the 12 districts of Kent. The sounds it makes are from sounds in the surroundings, modified by A.I. software. You will find more information here.

This is a view of Margate’s sandy beach and the harbour arm as seen from the gallery steps. The harbour arm serves the purpose of a pier, the real Margate pier (confusingly called the jetty) having been destroyed in a storm in 1978. It also provides shelter where boats can be moored or anchored.

The tide was falling and the sea had already receded far enough to leave the boats stranded and to reveal banks of seaside deposited by previous high tides.

From a window in the gallery we could see this lone figure half submerged in the sea. There is no cause for alarm, though, as the figure is one of Anthony Gormley’s iron men. He may rust but he will not drown!

As we left the gallery to take the bus, I photographed the small but elegant old Customs House, built in 1850, and now a tourist information office.

After our family visit, we returned to our temporary home to rest ready for an evening foray to find supper.

I began writing this post on Thursday evening but only managed to complete it this morning, Friday. It should be read as though written on Thursday

In Margate, where Tigger once lived, there is a show this evening at the Winter Gardens. It is by John Cooper Clarke, the so called “performance poet”. Tigger very much wanted to attend.

Timing is of the essence. Tigger leaves work in the City around 4 pm and travels by bus to the stop near our home where I join her aboard with the suitcases. We continue to St Pancras Station, grabbing sandwiches and soup at Pret to consume on the train. On the way Tigger phones the cab company so that a car awaits us at Margate station. The cab takes us to our lodgings where we drop off the suitcases and enter the cab again to travel to the Winter Gardens.

What could possibly go wrong? Lots probably, but in fact nothing did. The train was (almost) on time, the taxi was waiting and we arrived at the Winter Gardens, having left our bags at our lodgings, with time to spare.

We had to wait an hour for the show to start, leaving plenty of time to observe the gathering audience. If I was expecting young people then I was mistaken. Though there were a few who might have been in their thirties, the majority were older people.

There were two performers in the first half of the show. Their names escape me for now but I will add them later if I can retrieve them. Their style of poetry is of breathlessly fast recitation which at times makes it hard to make out the words. The poems were interspersed with “humorous” anecdotes which the audience seemed to appreciate but which I found dull and sometimes disquieting. The impression they left me was of people aspiring to be stand-up comedians but lacking the necessary talent to carry it off.

I don’t know how long the interval was other than that it was too long.

The second half brought us Dr John Cooper Clarke himself. He recited a few of his well known poems in the same breathlessly gabbled style as the previous pair, interspersed with anecdotes, “jokes”, songs and imitations that the audience appreciated but I found dull and at times embarrassingly bad. The audience lapped it up and cheered and applauded loudly.

At last, the Clarke bowed out. If I felt relieved, I should have known better because he immediately returned in an obviously planned “curtain call” and did some more material.

Finally, the show ended to my great relief.

Did I enjoy the performance and would I attend another? If you have read the foregoing, you will know the answer to that!