Monday 30th July I ventured into the seedy underbelly of this fair city to visit Theresa in her new home. It was my first experience of the overland rail system, which thankfully I managed to negotiate with some success, although I didn't realise I wasn't able to use my transport card and had to purchase a ticket at the end of the journey (oops!). Three cheers for me for making it to her house (and back) without getting mugged.
We visited the local markets (Ridley Road in Dalston) for a bit of a browse. Being a weekday, the markets weren't as busy as they would be on a weekend, but I did get a feeling for how loud and thriving the atmosphere would be. My personal favourite was the butcher who had a whole pile of montrous pig's trotters (part of the leg still attached) stacked up nicely at the front of his stall. Mmmm, mouthwateringly tempting. I could imagine myself gnawing away on one of those babies, happy as a pig in mud...boom boom.
The trip back on the train was not quite the peaceful journey I usually experience on the DLR, with one young gentleman playing "music" at an intrusive volume. I noticed that quite a few of the other passengers were put out by the whole affair, but no one was game to say anything - I suspect for the same reason as me - not wanting to be shot in the face, particularly not on a Monday. Once I changed at Stratford for the DLR, I did expect the journey to improve considerably. Unfortunately, my fellow passengers and I were subjected to some hoodlum youths with their unsavoury behaviour for a few stops. Granny, sitting opposite me, was holding onto her bag on wheels for dear life, which I assume is similar to how I looked, but my handbag (unfortunately) doesn't have wheels.
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