28 January - Prams & Parks

Am staying at a friend in Queen's Park so naturally I go exploring the neighbourhood on a Sunday morning, close to lunchtime. It starts well enough along Harqvist Rd. There are a few parents and a few prams but nothing much, though we remark that they're already more than the number spottend in a week lower down in Portobello. This includes a famous writer who for sure never looks in the mirror before he steps out. Hideous, though BF says one of his books is not bad.
But when we decide to cross the park is where the full horror strikes you. There's cars parking and leaving and disgorging little families of various colours and backgrounds. But inside the actual park it's a riot of prams and toddlers. The cafe' seems out of bounds. Though later on we spot the 'quiet' garden. It says 'no dogs' but that must mean no chilren too surely? There's a youth in there on his mobile phone but he's talking quietly.

When did this happen? When did all this people move here cause they couldn't afford a garden more centrally and have made all these houses upwards of 3/4 mil? I thought mortgages were high and you couldn't have kids but maybe all these were born before the latest money crunch? Good luck feeding them during the downturn in economy.
We cross at speed and decide to check the Farmer's Marked we've heard of. Not my idea but someone is hungry as someone doesn't really do breakfast before leaving the house. Here the suprise is the prams (still, and the papooses or whatever those little harnesses are called) but also the price of farmers things and... the accents. Last time I looked this area was perilously close to things I never planned to visit, like Willesden. And now all these clubby/posh whites are ... everywhere.

I wonder if being a parent means you have pram envy, you know, you go out and other families seem better kitted out than yours or you wonder if they already have secured a place at such and such a school ... But they all look like they have enough left for a skiing holiday and we know a couple here with one child and one on the way and the 1m house already. To make it worse the pubs around here are child friendly and so you know... you can't really read the paper in peace at the Salusbury can you?

I'm moving into Bloomsbury if at all. I hope that's full of fusty, dusty old people and academics and Ukranian refugees from 50 years ago. I really do.