a lovely side of london

This week I've seen a side of London which I've never seen before. I went food shopping at Tesco's on Old Kent Road early one morning and it was full of old people. The most amazing thing was that they didn't possess the same rules as the rest of London. They were older and had moved beyond those things. Not only did they make eye contact, but they were very chatty. They commented on my basket full of vegetables and chilis, made jokes about things I looked at and were generally full of laughter.

When I was at the cheese counter, no one offered to help. The staff just sort of stood around and a ways away from the counter. I observed for a few minutes and an old man next to me reached over the guard and helped himself to the (wrapped) cheeses. "If he did it, I'll do it," I thought, and reached around and did it. This was great for the first 4 cheeses (yes, after two nearly cheeseless years in the Maldives I was very excited to be able to have cheese again), but the last one was a parmesan and I only wanted half. I gave a yell and was being helped, although the contact was so minimal that no one would have known had they been watching...which two old women were. "Young man! Young man! Is this young lady being served?? Is she being served??!!" The young man was oblivious while cutting my cheese and didn't answer. Part of me heard them but most of me wasn't prepared for strangers in London taking interest in others for no apparent reason. "Young lady...Young lady! Are you being served??" My reaction was slightly delayed by the shock of being spoken to, but I managed, "Um, yes, I am. Thank you very much for asking." Satisfied, they moved on, but I was so stunned.

Finally, in the check out, there was this lovely, tiny, ancient old woman in front of me. She noticed my wine (Jacob's Creek Shiraz, Australia) and said, "Oh, that's a nice one!" I smiled and replied, "Yes, I had a glass last night and it was so lovely that I had to pick up a bottle." She then went on to tell me how she had visited the vineyard and to tell me all about a wine tasting tour of Australia she had had 20 years before. I was enchanted with this darling old woman that, caught up in her own story, nearly forgot to pay, then nearly forgot to leave with her chicken. (Both times, the cashier reminded her.)

On the way home, I was in agony carrying entirely too many groceries. Just at the moment when I didn't think I was going to be able to make it all the way, an older gentleman asked if he could help me. He had a very kind face, so I agreed. His name was Hassan, he was from Turkey and as it turns out, lives 2 doors down from the friends I'm staying with.

I entered the house elated with the feeling that I had experienced a completely different side of London than I had ever known before.