Abbey Wood Caravan Club Site, London

London and rain; two words that seem to fit together, although the forecasted showers did not arrive until after I had a load of washing on my little rotary clothes line this evening. 

This morning we caught the train from Abbey Woods through to Cannon Street near the centre of the city, or at least close enough to show on tourist maps of the city. We used the controversial South East Rail, considered so because last year when we were here, there were strikes, delayed or cancelled trains and on Sunday next, they are increasing their fares much to the consternation of the regular commuters. However today we were well pleased with the fact it took a mere half hour to travel a distance that would have probably taken an hour and a half had we taken the cheaper option of the bus.

We found our way to the Underground and travelled through to the Liverpool Street Station, then walked the relatively short distance through to the Old Spitalfield’s markets. We had done our homework in that we were aware that at least half of the area had been demolished to make way for finance industry offices, but we did expect something more in line with a traditional market filling the remaining red-brick and green gabled market hall, that built in 1893.

What we found was a very smart market area, much of it taken up with eateries in the same way that the Greenwich Old Markets are, a good part made up of stalls selling LPs and the rest with more upmarket craft and accessories. We did buy a “newspaper cone” of hot chips; vinegar included, and were briefly tempted to buy a rather smart cap for Chris until we learned the rather extortionate price.

There has been a market on the site since 1638 when Charles I gave a licence for “flesh, fowl and roots” to be sold in what was then known as Spittle Fields. In the 17^th century, French Huguenots settled here, and in the late 19^th century the Jewish community was predominant. These days it is more home to the Bengali community, aside from the “suits” that frequent the area during the traditional working week.

Our guide book had also drawn our attention to Christ Church immediately adjacent, so we headed there after consuming our greasy morning tea (I say “greasy” because I have an aversion to eating anything cooked in oil or fat before lunchtime). The church designed by Nicholas Hawkesmoor, whose name crops up from time to time as one travels about, was constructed between 1714 and 1729. Its main features are the 225 foot high spire and giant Tuscan portico. The interior is quietly elegant and was a peaceful spot to sit and listen to a clutch of organists gathered about the organ taking turns to entertain the random visitor. The organ was installed in 1735 by Richard Bridge and was the largest in England at the time. Handel was inspired to try it out and I can only imagine how wonderful that would have been.

We were curious about the ten plaques placed in the vestibule, noted as we arrived.  They were erected here in Christ Church in 1897 from the recently demolished Jews Chapel in Palestine Place, Bethnal Green. There were references to the efforts in turning the Jewish citizens to Christianity, a rather futile exercise I would have thought, although I know for a fact that many still try to achieve this end. 

As we had made our way to the Spitalfield’s market, we had noted a sign to Petticoat Lane, a familiar phrase and we thought we’d better check it out. The Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market, which was still sorting itself out well after 11am on this Friday morning. However we could not miss the many permanent shops in Wentworth Street selling textiles; bolts of bright and gorgeous fabrics. 

In the absence of expected vibrancy, we decided to head to London Gate Station where we caught the DLR back to Canary Wharf. There we found a quiet spot surrounded by waterfalls and pigeons to eat our lunch before heading back to the Dockland’s Museum. 

At the museum we learned more about the demise of the Docklands, a far more informed and factual account than I suggested in my posting yesterday. There was an extensive section on the slave trade and England’s role, much a repetition of that we had learned in that wonderful museum in Liverpool last year. 

But more specifically I learned that in 1672 Charles II chartered the Royal African Company, a chartered company formed by investors or shareholders for the purpose of trade, exploration and colonisation. Charles gave the Company a monopoly over all English trade on the west coast of Africa for 1,000 years. His brother James (later James II) became one of the Company’s largest investors and attended many of its board meetings. No other trading company, not even the East India Company, enjoyed such powerful royal backing. From its headquarters at Africa House in the City of London, the Company traded English woollen cloth, alcohol, and firearms for African gold, redwood dyes, ivory and enslaved people. With the support of the royal family, the Royal African Company became the single largest contributor to the entire transatlantic slave trade from the 1500s to the 1800s, shipping about 150,000 enslaved Africans mostly to Barbados.

There is much of our past to be ashamed of, but then, if history had been different, the world would not be as it today.

We spent a couple of hours there working our way through the treasures and wealth of history until we were footsore and fact saturated. It was time to return home, first on the DLR to the Cutty Sark Station in Greenwich, then on the bus with the commuters, students and workers, mostly black and mostly better dressed and coiffed than us.