Turnpike Lane

Tonight we are going for a Chinese. And so starts my week of last Turnpike Lane things. Fortunately, considering we’re soon to be leaving, Turnpike Lane doesn’t have quite as much to offer as some of the more salubrious parts of London, but it is still the end of an era, albeit a short one.

Other highlights include a rather spectacular Indian takeaway and a restaurant in an old chocolate factory with more melted candles in one room than you can possibly imagine and surprisingly tasty food. Nothing beats a hidden gem – discovered. There’s also a great roast at the nearby Salisbury, but I ticked that one off a few weeks ago, along with all the other Turnpike-Laners who were seeking a good old-fashioned Sunday lunch instead of a plate of mezze. Mezze. Nom. Maybe I should add that to the list too? I appreciate that it is a little food-heavy…

Alexandra Palace is pretty awesome, particularly on Summer evenings when you can watch the sun go down over the whole of London, and there are a couple of squirrel-filled parks that I might go and bid farewell to. There’s also a recreation ground that would have made the list if it wasn’t for the stagnant pond that means you have to hold your breath every time you lap round it –

Turnpike Lane has been a strange place to live, for me. Admittedly, the fact that some kids decided to seriously assault each other at 4am one morning, or that the road leading up to our road is perhaps the most vomited-upon street in North London has not massively enamoured me to the area –

And yet it has become home and I will miss it.

I will miss the purple carpets that we played poker for and I lost – by a hair. I will even miss the purple walls that have always made my partner smile and, more recently, have made me smile too. I will miss the living room that looks far more like a library than a living room should, and is now spilling over with books; the surprisingly tasteful terracotta kitchen walls and the disturbingly tasteless hanging man that you have to tug to turn on the bathroom light; the fireplace that I occasionally toast marshmallows on –

And I know that the new house will have these things in too, that we will again imprint memories into the walls and that the many books and photos and the wine-stained sofa will all come with us –

But it feels important to say goodbye too. To be a little bit sad about leaving and to make sure I capture the good bits before I go.

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