While in central London, Cheng took us to China town area, which has grown to include a few other streets. What a difference 22 years (since our last visit) make! SP used to live in London between 1968 and 1973 and since then till she came back in 1982, she used to be leading the way whenever we were in London. Now, she is just like someone who came to Britain for the first time and need to be led, almost all the way. Cheng took us to Wong Kei where, for the budget conscious, “sam siu farn”, or rice with 3 types of roast, (duck, barbecued pork and roast pork) cost about 1 pound less. The Chinese tea was complimentary which was why when I asked for more hot water, the waiter ignored me!
She had difficulty finding the best rail route to Gypsy Hill Station. Certain platform has different trains going to different destinations, so one has to be careful which train to take. Some trains have longer intervals, so it requires experience to get the best route which takes least time to travel.
Coming out of Gipsy Hill station, I relied on the London A-Z to find our way to the flat. It was a long uphill walk. Upon arrival, we discovered that it was just off Central Hill Road and it was more convenient taking the bus.
Hakim was waiting for us outside the flat. He said, Sharif, who was supposed to meet us, was playing football. Anyway, we were late by almost 3 hours as we had arranged to meet at 1 pm! Hakim was in a hurry to go back to Colchester to work in the pizza restaurant and since Cheng was heading back, she got a lift from him later.
After showing us the second floor flat, which had pictures of their late freedom fighter hero who fought the Russians and Taliban, Sharif got back with Hakim’s younger brother Najib. With his long hair and being short and stout, Sharif looks a bit like Maradona. Najib is taller than Hakim and both of them have very short hair, almost bald.
The flat has a sitting room next to the kitchen at the front and a bedroom a few steps lower at the back, separated by a landing next to a toilet cum bathroom. Somehow, I got the feeling that we would not be alone in the flat.
We took a walk along Central Hill Road and checked out the bus schedules. We ended up at the Crystal Palace bus terminal. We took a bus to Oxford Circus. As it was summer with longer daylight hours, we did not head back till past 8pm when it was still bright. My hunch was right when late at night we heard the door opened and voices.
The next morning, I noticed the sitting room door closed but I had to disturb whoever was in there, to get to the kitchen to make some tea and have cereals for breakfast.
My nephew, William had already arranged with us to meet at Oxford Circus, to suit us because our bus stops there. After meeting William, we got a call from my son that he is on his way to Chinatown. Wearing one of his Leeds United jerseys I could easily spot him. Later, he told us he got a call confirming his job appointment pending medical check and CRB clearance. Proudly wearing his Leeds United jersey he said that it probably gave him good luck that day. Then we went on to visit Harrods where SP bought her Royal Doulton crystal decanter and glasses. For lunch, William took us to a Chinese restaurant for “timsum”.
The next morning, with Beng, we discovered an easier route to the city through Brixton. The Indian chap at the post office gave us directions, after telling us his father was actually from Seremban!
William took leave to accompany us for the few days we were in London. SP’s favourite has always been Portabello Road, famous for its display of antiques and other collectibles. I have seen tourists who stood next to the road sign just to take pictures.
SP always start by scrutinizing the first shop or stall at any place of interest. Her purpose is to compare prices in London with that in Malaysia. Basically, that is what trading is all about, but she has yet to sell any item for a profit. If a close relative is really interested in any of her collection, and if she were willing to part with it, she would rather give it, feeling good that someone appreciates her taste or choice. But she enjoys spotting bargains and collecting items that she likes. She enjoys the feeling that an item selling for 10 quid in Portabello was bought for 2 quid at a car boot sale.
SP has a friend, Angie, to accompany her and because they were so slow in moving, William, my son and I walked towards Nottinghill to look for food. We walked along the road but could not find anything suitable. When we turned back, we noticed a Mexican restaurant and decided to try it. It was embarrassing for William and myself because what we ordered was just spare ribs consisting of 3 bones 3 inches long, and there was hardly any meat on it! There was nothing else like some bread to go with it.
Next, we went to Camden Town to a place, which used to be a Horse Hospital, which has more antique stalls and a food center. The prices here were cheaper than Portabello. Here, William knows someone from Butterworth who has a stall selling Chinese and Indonesian foods. The boss treated us to some Malaysian food and bottled drinks.
William later took us to his place of work, Wagamama at Covent Garden, a Japanese chain owned by a non-Japanese. As chef, he is entitled to 30% discount.
We arranged to meet William at Liverpool Street station for the purpose of visiting Spitafields Market. But before we could meet, we found Petticoat Lane and took a look. I was running out of T-shirts and bought a couple for use. I watched a Chinaman bending a shiny thick wire to form names for 2 quid each. I regretted not asking for a price for our address, which is unusually long. The joke was while SP was waiting for someone to come out of a public toilet and if quick enough, could avoid paying 20 pence, she found that it was already vacant. By the time she came out, a Pakistani old man took the opportunity instead! Feeling hungry, we settled for sandwiches at Subway.
Spitafields Market is similar to our Central Market where there are many artistic designer items for sale. I spotted some coke bottles, which had their bottoms cut off to stick to the tops, and when turned upside down, it can be used as a glass for milk shakes. It was here that SP spotted an old French clock. While bargaining, a TV crew was actually recording the whole transaction. They were shooting for a programme called Sun, Sea and Bargain spotting.
Later, we decided to go to St. James’s Park for picnic. There was a brass band playing some nice music. We saw many deck chairs and found that it costs 1 pound 50p an hour. We decided to sit on the grass. We have arranged to meet Cheng here but she was on the other side, which was Buckingham Palace. I went over to meet her and Jabi. I invited Jabi to join us. Soon, William’s colleague, Chai, came as well. Chai is a head chef at Wagamama at Royal Festival Hall. Jabi bid farewell and we decided to walk from the park to Wagamama at Victoria for dinner. It was unbelievably quiet for a Sunday evening (at 7.00 pm it was still bright) and the walk was short and very nice. Upon arrival, we realized that this particular restaurant takes last order at 8.00 pm (because of its close proximity to some classy apartments) and we were there just 5 minutes before. We made use of their toilets before taking a bus to Wagamama at Royal Festival Hall where Chai works.
We were told to feel free to order but how could we knowing that either William or Chai would not allow us to pay. Chai insisted that we order some side dishes like prawn fritters and some desserts like cheesecake. Chai’s colleague, a fellow head chef gave us extra portions of prawn fritters. After the meal, Chai showed us the bill, which totaled 77 quid but the bottom line was zero. But William took out 10 quid to pay as tips to the waiters.
It seems, one of their privileges as head chef is an allowance for entertaining relatives.
In spite of that, Chai is due to make a career change to become a police constable in Brighton. We wished him good luck and hoped to see him next year in his Bobby's uniform.
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