Tigger and I agreed to meet for supper at a cafe called Black Olive in Goswell Road. I can reach the cafe either by taking a 153 bus or by walking. According to the Google Maps app on my phone, walking should take me 20 minutes so I chose that route.

Goswell Road at the clock tower

Goswell Road (the name is thought to derive from a well, called God’s Well, that existed hereabouts, though other etymologies have been proposed) splits off City Road, just below the Angel crossroads at the clock tower. The weather today is warm and sunny.

A many-chimneyed house

Just beyond the clock tower is Dalby House. Passing it today, I noticed for the first time what a lot of chimneys it has. There is a group of four in a conventional arrangement but, behind them, are more – an impressive row of 15! When you realise that a densely inhabitant London used coal fires for heating well into the 20th century, it’s no surprise that the city’s nickname was “The Smoke”.

Building with plaques

This building alway evokes a wry smile. I think today it is an office block but I am guessing it once housed a shipping company. That would explain the plaques. However, there is something odd about these. Here are three of them, working from right to left (I have ramped up the contrast to bring out the details):

They are quite nicely done and suited to their purpose of advertising a shipping company (if that is what it was). Here now is the fourth plaque:

Painted black

This plaque, though originally showing a coloured picture like the others, has been obscured by black paint. Why?

As it happens, I saw this plaque before its repainting. It showed a group of “field hands” – aka slaves – in a cotton field. The building’s owners seem to have responded to recent complaints about the displaying of symbols of slavery by obscuring the image. Some will approve while others will accuse them of trying to rewrite history.

Evening sunshine in Goswell Road

Even here, in a relatively quiet district, we are suffering from that contemporary pandemic, developeritis. Unnecessarily tall buildings are springing up, containing “luxury flats”, that do nothing to relieve the housing shortage for ordinary citizens. After recent fires and consequent loss of of life, I cannot imagine how people can reconcile themselves to living in tower blocks from which escape is difficult or even impossible in case of emergency.

Nearly there!

Tigger lets me know she has already arrived at Black Olive, prompting me to speed up. There was a moment of panic when my phone, for some reason, displayed the message “Invalid SIM”, and I was afraid of suddenly not being able to contact Tigger. I switched the phone off and then on again (the old “try this first” tactic) and everything seemed normal again.

Inside Black Olive
Photo by Tigger

I arrived and joined Tigger who was already seated at a table. The menu is a mixture of Turkish, “Mediterranean” and typical British cafe dishes. I made sure to order my favourite, Turkish tea. (This is made by a mysterious process involving a nested pair of kettles.)

Omelette and chips
Photo by Tigger

Today we chose nothing exotic (unless Turkish tea can be described as exotic), just a typical cafe item, omelette and chips.

At the bus stop

Afterwards, we went to the bus stop, handily positioned just outside the cafe, to wait for our bus which should arrive within 6 minutes, according to the bus app on our phones. And it did!

Aboard the 153

We boarded the single-deck 153. The only seats available were the narrow pair behind the driver so we rode with our knees jammed against the bulkhead. The journey was short, fortunately.

Familiar territory, the Angel crossroads

The bus deposited us in familiar territory at the Angel crossroads. It is Friday evening and what is it I often say on Friday evening? Oh, yes, that’s it: “The weekend starts here!”