We arrived in Streatham by bus via Brixton.
Brixton
I was invited to the opening of a wine bar in Streatham and travelled there via Brixton, infamous for the Brixton riots a while back. I was quite nervous about visiting Brixton. I spent part of the day on the internet reading about protective clothing, none of which could be delivered in time for my evening excursion.
I imagined Brixton to be a place where unemployed people sat around drinking on doorsteps, taking drugs, wild-eyed, talking some kind of patois like in a rap song, and eyeing you suspiciously as you walked past. Scary. Fortunately, Brixton was nothing like that, just extremely crowded. It reminding me of my recent trip to Hong Kong, but easier for me to get around, because instead of the tiny Chinese speaking incomprehensible Cantonese, Brixton was all English signs and with large numbers of multi-national but mainly mixed race and black English people - just like Harrow and the rest of London, all well built and well dressed, speaking fluent, British English.
On a Friday night it was rush hour on both the roads and pavements, everywhere busy with large numbers of people hurrying about their business. More like sales day in Oxford street, or the more affluent buildings of seafront Hong Kong, wide roads, wide pavements full of people.
We hurried along past three bus stops outside the station where the bus stop posts had numbers showing about nine buses stopped at each stop. We jumped on our bus and were lucky to get seats. The roads were four lanes wide, two lanes in either direction, widening to three lanes at junctions, then narrowing back to four lanes.
The bus filled up below and upstairs. Off we went, buses overtaking each other, giant supermarkets, stores a block long. We left behind the shops, passing housing estates and large parks which would have been lovely were it not for lots of litter. Ah, at the end of the next park, there were three lads, or down and outs, hard to tell at a distance, sitting on benches smoking. Then we passed a church the size of a cathedral. The bus was still standing room only.
On the bus, our driver shouted through the microphone instructions about moving down the bus, and letting people off. A well-dressed, loud-voiced woman, bantering constantly with her three friends, retorted loudly, "People going only three stops should not go upstairs and then rush down and have to push past everybody!"
The bus stopped at a junction, raced on and soon we were back to the next bustling high street of Streatham, which looked much the same as Brixton.
We got off and found we had made a mistake. We were in Streatham, but our wine shop was not here, because we should have been in Streatham Hill, so back we went.
I was impressed with the state of the art bus communication with passengers. At the bus stops electric signs above eye level were constantly changing, and told us which four buses were arriving in the next five minutes, and how many minutes, like on a railway station. So we knew how many minutes to wait for each bus. Then on our bus a state of the art recording told us the number of the bus and which direction it was taking.
Large and Small Evening Attractions
A giant block of art deco columns, now apparently a bingo hall, was changing colour from red to green. Opposite was our destination, a newly opened little wine bar. Cocooned in our wine bar (newly opened Streatham Wine House - see next post) we passed a pleasant evening drinking bubbly and eating nibbles of salami and cubes of cheese and pickles. We asked where we could grab a snack supper of fast food before heading home on the train.
Fish and chips - by Streatham Hill Station. Kennedy's was just what we wanted. About to close. They had cod on display in the case keeping food warm. In a few seconds we had our food. Luckily another person left, vacating a bar stool by the window, so we perched at our small table for two just right for sharing, eating our filling fish and chips.
Fish
I was delighted to find that the fish seemed more like soft melt in the mouth plaice, my favourite, which is even better than chunky cod. I don't know if they made a mistake, or if what passes for cod nowadays is some hybrid fish as cod stocks are running low. Whatever. I was happy.
Chips
The chips were proper big British chips, soft potato, the thickness of thumbs. Maybe bad for a diet, but better than those pencil-thin, fat-laden, cooked to a crisp French fries which you get in hamburger bars. I love big British chips. Doesn't everybody!
Price
The price was under ten pounds. I went back to the counter to ask for the receipt. My companion had not taken it and the assistant has already thrown it away, but was able and willing to give me an address card.
Worth A Detour
If you are not visiting that area but have a travel card, you could divert to the station to get fish and chips. Only a couple of seats, probably for people waiting for food at busy times. Fast, friendly service.
Salad
The board showed a huge selection of fish, fish cakes and pies. As we tipped our debris into their bin, I saw from somebody else's leftovers that the shop also served salad. If I ever get the chance to go back, I must remember to order a salad.
Lunch
By the door a chalk board showed they served a lunch time special of lamb steak, lamb chop or rump steak. You could get a take away one course lunch, for under £5. Good value.
Leftovers
Our portion was ample. I though we'd have enough to eat for lunch next day, but it got finished off on the way home (an hour's journey by train). We kept the plastic cutlery.
Kennedy
The name Kennedy's is easy to remember because of American President Kennedy. Kennedy is an Irish name. But Kennedy's fish and chips for me fits the slogan, best of British.
Kennedy's of Streatham, 5 Leigh Court Road, Streatham Hill, London SW16 2ND. Tel 020 8769 1003 (orders taken) open 7 days a week.
www.kennedyspies.com
Photos by Angela Lansbury, copyright, 2016.
Angela Lansbury, travel writer and photographer, author and speaker.
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