Kinda sad, isn't it? It was to me since I lived not far away from this area and it was my everyday walk.

However, East London still somehow manages to preserve its creative vibe, and it was fun discovering the new places.
The plan for the weekend was clear from the beginning: go for long walks, drink, eat junk food, drink, get tipsy, walk, drink, drink. After that I left a margin for unplanned business, since London can surprise you with unexpected stuff at any time.
And it did.

I was hanging around in Brick Lane with my friend Lydia, going from a club to another: Big Chill, 1001, etc... all the ones that are still resisting the invasion of the "new, corporate and clean". 


After a few drinks we decided we wanted more. We walked down the ramps of what from the outside looked like a little empty pub. It was handy since we just wanted a quick beer, so we jumped in. Once we got downstairs we found out a huge underground gallery opened on the right and a minigolf for the drunk was set up in this dark basement full of graffiti, art pieces here and there and it was full of people having fun. We had to go for a quick tour and it was amazing. I never had a thing for minigolf, but that one really was so intriguing I couldn't resist peaking my head around. Was stupid not to take any picture. I was focused on beers.

Walking around you can find graffiti art and strong messages hanging on walls.
This one made me particularly proud of Hackney:


The night unrolled in the most pleasant way. Got tipsy, not drunk, which it turns out to be always a good idea and left us energy for the morning after.

Last time i've been in London it was with my Mom, visiting my brother and his family.
I took her with me from Fulham to Columbia Road Flower Market one morning to show her how just a few hundred meters of a small street, can turn into a nice, colorful, fun experience.
I never been there to buy flowers, never bought one in a whole year living next door, but i never missed it.
The nice mood, good live music, happy smily girls proud of the flowers they just got off a super deal, and of course the food, make those 200 meters special.
This time i could not find the carrot cake i was used to have: the tiny coffee shop was swallowed into a bigger restaurant, but the oyster boy was still out there with his quarters of lemons and a knife and also are the ladies frying squid and shrimps. It was a nice breakfast.

The loud voices of flower merchants are fun and they make it even more irresistible joking with the old ladies who try to bargain for a better deal.

We met there with another good old friend of mine, Matthew.
He was late of course, and when he arrived he was looking for a coffee.
On the sidewalk, between two shops there was a little door open. In the tight unfurnished and pretty decaying lobby a man put his big espresso coffee machine. The two could barely fit in that tight space. We walked in and as we were waiting for our serve, the guys comes closer to us in a suspicious way. With a low tone of voice he asked (as a drug dealear would approach his clients) "are you guys hungry?". We were, so "yes" was the answer. Pointing his head toward the stairs he invited us: "why don't you go have a look upstairs?", and moved out of the way to let us in.
That was kinda weird, but we thought, "why not?".
We arrived into a kitchen where a young man was preparing lunch for a mixed group of 5.
A bootleg restaurant was there, and it was cozy, smelled good, and it felt exciting.
We decided to stay and joined the table with the other unaware visitors.
Wine, good food and nice people. There is nothing better that that.
We truly enjoied it and again London surprised us with another unexpected gift.
i could only steal this few shots from the table.