For a Glimpse of the World within London, set your
sights on city's diverse communities
WHEN I MOVED TO LONDON in December 2004, I set out to learn about the culture of my new home the way most tourists do: by visiting the city’s museums and soaking up its immense history atop a double-decker bus during the requisite sightseeing extravaganza. Look kids! Big Ben. Parliament. Buckingham Palace. But over the past 18 months, I’ve learned that the real London is less about antiquity and more about diversity, staking its claim as not just the capital of England, but arguably, the capital of Europe — if not the world.
That might sound bold, but the numbers don’t lie. All together, Londoners speak more than 300 languages. It’s something you’ll notice almost immediately upon your arrival, whether in the thick Polish accent of your hotel desk clerk or the fragments of conversations in Arabic, Chinese, French, Italian, Spanish, and countless other languages frequently overheard amid the din of the city’s sidewalks. An astonishing one in three London residents was born outside England. And more than 50 distinct ethnic communities live within the 650 square miles that make up the metropolitan area.
Among the best places to observe this diversity in action are London’s community markets. It’s said that markets have existed in London for some 2,000 years — as far back as AD 43, Aulus Plautus and his Roman legions found a market at Southwark (the location of today’s Borough Market) on their way to sack London! Today, markets remain a vibrant part of local life, valued as much for their social and cultural contributions as for their commercial ones. For non-native Londoners, in particular, markets located off the traditional tourist trails, in places such as Upton Park and Brixton, provide an oasis of sights, sounds, scents, and tastes from home. For visitors, they offer unparalleled opportunities to explore foreign cultures for the mere price of an Underground ticket. Africa, the Caribbean, the Indian subcontinent, the Far East ... it got me wondering: If I set out to see the world, just how far might I be able to go without ever leaving London? Armed with my best walking shoes, a notebook, a pen, and my trusty London Underground Travelcard as a passport, I decided to find out.
FIRST STOP: BANGLATOWN
Brick Lane, the heart of Banglatown.
Perhaps the most famous immigrant community in all of London is the portion of the East End surrounding Brick Lane. Strategically positioned just outside the City of London — the historic city center that’s now the site of London’s financial district — Brick Lane has long been a haven for those who did not wish to, or were not permitted to, live under the City’s jurisdiction. In 1997, the area was officially named “Banglatown” by local authorities in honor of its many residents from Bangladesh. At that time, almost seven in 10 residents were of Bangladeshi origin, most from the country’s Sylhet region. Before the Bangladeshi community, the East End provided refuge for French Huguenots and, later, Eastern European Jews.
Since the 18th century, this neighborhood has hosted a market known for its “anything goes” ambience. Through the centuries, the Brick Lane Market has evolved with the community. And while it attracts many Bangladeshi vendors and customers, Nash Rahman, coordinator of Brick Lane’s annual Baishakhi Mela festival, suggests the market, which operates on Sundays, is equally representative of the neighborhood’s close ties with London’s artistic community, and of the East End’s unique history.
But that’s not to say that a visit to the Brick Lane Market doesn’t provide a glimpse into Bengali culture. On the contrary, the thoroughfare primarily houses Bangladeshi-owned businesses, including those that sell traditional clothing and, famously, Bengali curries. Not all the dishes are authentic, however. Many, including the local favorite chicken tikka masala, were created to accommodate mainstream tastes, Rahman advises me.
To reach the market, I stroll from Liverpool Street Station, passing the recently renovated Old Spitalfields Market (now a thriving “bourgeois bohemian” scene). On the other side of Spitalfields, I cross over to Fournier Street, where the Ten Bells Pub sits on the corner. The pub’s sign notes its establishment in 1753 but neglects to mention the venue’s true claim to fame — it was a frequent haunt of many of Jack the Ripper’s victims. Walking down Fournier Street conjures up images of Dickensian London. The impeccably preserved 18th-century row houses bear weathered brick fronts juxtaposed against quaint architectural touches, such as elaborately carved door frames and wood-shuttered windows from a bygone era.
As I round the corner onto Brick Lane, the facade of period London —and, in fact, London altogether — quickly fades, giving way to a veritable rainbow of signs advertising curry houses, including those specializing in balti, a style of curry cooked in a cast-iron pot. Markers announce signs in both English and Bengali script, and the sidewalks bustle. On this summer morning, locals in traditional Bangladeshi dress set about their daily errands, tourists eagerly snap photographs, and several “tikka touts” prowl about, looking to lure customers into their restaurants.
Hungry shoppers have plenty of dining options
on Brick Lane.
I find the market just past the old Truman Brewery, where Brick Lane and Pedley Street meet. It extends northward spilling onto the side streets, with dozens of vendors setting up shop, some with nothing more than a blanket on which to display their wares. Goods on offer range from sequined leather slippers and vintage jewelry to old Barbie dolls, fruits and vegetables, and novelty T-shirts sold out of large plastic crates. It’s peak market time, just before noon, and a steady sea of shoppers flows in either direction, occasionally parting to allow the odd car or motorbike to pass.
The overall atmosphere is one of controlled chaos, but it’s nothing compared with the crowds Brick Lane draws for its festivals. Rahman knows, having organized Brick Lane’s biggest festival, the Baishakhi Mela. Baishakhi Mela, which marks the start of the Bengali calendar, brought some 80,000 people to this relatively small neighborhood in May. It remains a bastion of Bengali traditions on Brick Lane, helping preserve the culture for second- and third-generation Bangladeshis who have yet to visit the country of their roots. Yet even the Baishakhi Mela has been infused with at least some of London’s multicultural spirit.
“The Baishakhi Mela is not the same as in Bangladesh,” Rahman explains. “This year, we had a mix of artists and performers from countries like Holland, India, and England, in addition to Bangladesh. Like London, Baishakhi Mela brings together people of all races, colors, ages, and religions.”
ELECTRIC AVENUE, BRIXTON
Belts for sale.
After the intensity of Brick Lane, I decide my next trip should be one of rest and relaxation — and where better to chill out than the Caribbean, London style? Mondays through Saturdays, the West Indian and African communities in Brixton host what Time Out magazine has called London’s “buzziest” market. For this, I pack up my gear and make the three-mile trek from central London via the Victoria line.
Stepping outside the Brixton tube station on a sunny London day, I emerge into a neighborhood block party with a distinct island flavor. The sky is cloudless and blue, a steel drum band greets pedestrians, and the peppery smell of jerk seasoning lingers in the air.
There’s been a market in Brixton since the 1870s, beginning on Atlantic Road, and moving to its current location in the 1920s. Since the 1940s and ’50s, the market has become infused with a Caribbean flavor, the result of an influx of immigrants from the West Indies settling in Brixton.
On the market’s main drag, Electric Avenue — the one Eddy Grant sang about in the 1980s — stalls line the street and wind around the back of the Underground station. Fruit and vegetable vendors sell familiar items as well as many Caribbean favorites: plantains in varying stages of ripeness, cassava, coconuts, and yams the size of my forearm. Next come the vendors selling clothing, watches, bedding, towels, and other miscellaneous goods. On either side of the street are various African, Caribbean, and Latin American grocers, fishmongers, and meat markets whose storefronts are crowded with bargain hunters negotiating prices for goat meat and pigs’ feet.
Busy shopping stalls on Electric Avenue.
Near the intersection of Pope’s Road and Brixton Station Road, several vendors sell CDs and blast reggae music from speakers poised around their small carts. Drawn in by the lilting beats, I stop to chat with one of the CD stall owners — a Ghanaian man named Ebenezer Nelson — who expertly juggles a handful of CDs, playing samples of each in hopes of striking a chord with a man browsing at the other end of the cart.
Between songs, Nelson tells me that most of the people who shop at Brixton Market are originally from Jamaica, Martinique, Trinidad, and parts of Africa, including Ghana and South Africa. They visit his booth to find music from homegrown artists — CDs that aren’t necessarily available on iTunes or in the music chain stores. This search for something “native” is echoed in other Brixton Market stalls, not only in the actual goods sold, but also in the way customers and vendors interact. There is a ritual to it: the nonverbal exchanges, the offers and counteroffers, the feigned lack of interest on the part of one party when negotiations fail. It appears, for many, this too is a taste of home. Just before I leave, Nelson finally hits on a song that entices his customer to buy. It seems only appropriate that it’s a reggae song by the Jamaican artist Luciano called “Never Forget U Roots.”
GREETINGS FROM UPTON PARK
Upton Park is less than 10 miles from the West End’s bustling tourist district. But its location in Zone Three of the Tube map means that compared with London’s other market locations, my trip is the equivalent of a long-haul flight. Upton Park is home to Queen’s Market, which is said to feature London’s most ethnically diverse shopping.
Materials for sale inside a covered section of Queen's Market.
Traveling via the District Line, the Tube emerges from its subterranean tunnel somewhere after Bow Road Station and whizzes past aging brick buildings occasionally enlivened with colorful splotches of graffiti. On the horizon are the gleaming high-rise offices of Canary Wharf, an area fast becoming the financial center of Europe. The stark contrast between old and new, shiny and grimy, jogs me back to reality, and more specifically, to the reality facing my destination. Though Queen’s Market is thriving, its future is in peril. Local authorities want to sell the land on which the market sits to real estate developers. The likely replacement? Luxury condos and another generic shopping center.
A shop displays traditional Indian clothing.
Mark Jones, a spokesman for the Friends of Queen’s Market, a group campaigning to prevent the site’s redevelopment, explains that many Queen’s Market patrons are originally from the Indian subcontinent — places like Bangladesh, India, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka. But the market attracts a diverse clientele, including a strong African following and many Brits. Interestingly, many of the original Queen’s Market traders were Russian Jewish refugees who found a safe haven in London after escaping Czarist pogroms. For each of the groups that have struggled to build a new life in London, the market has provided more than physical nourishment. It has offered emotional support in the form of a ready-made community, and a chance to get a foot on the local economic ladder as a shopkeeper or market employee.
“This market has something governments and other institutions are missing out on,” Jones says. “If they could discover what makes Queen’s Market work in terms of its ability for people of every nation, race, and faith to come together, they would find the ingredients for world harmony.”
At Upton Park Station, I exit onto Queen’s Road and approach the market, a monstrosity of a building with a roof that extends almost as far as the eye can see. Several vendors are doing a brisk trade near the entrance, but I head for the cavernous space behind them. Inside, under a canopy of fluorescent lights, it’s as though I have stepped into another time and place.
The first thing I notice is the cacophony of sounds: babies crying, vendors hawking their deal of the day, and chatter in many languages coming from all directions. Small grocery shops and halal butchers line the perimeter, prominently displaying chicken carcasses, cows’ feet, and miscellaneous organs in their front windows.
Descending further into the market, the typically English “high street” outside disappears from view. I stroll among the fruits and vegetables, and around the corner from one vendor’s herb selection, I am captivated by a spiky green item that resembles a cucumber from outer space. It’s karela, a vegetable usually fried up with a few onions and some chili powder, turmeric, and other spices.
My eyes are drawn to my fellow shoppers, many of whom wear the traditional dress of their native countries. On this Friday afternoon, most are women: young mothers balancing strollers and bags of groceries, and elderly women with wire shopping carts filled to the brim. Mothers, daughters, sisters, grandmothers, and friends pause their conversations only long enough to negotiate with stall owners. Though most speak in languages I cannot recognize, it occurs to me that Queen’s Market is as much a place for human exchanges as it is for commercial ones.
I stroll among the crowd, adding purchases of fresh fruit and vegetables to my collection of global conquests — a bottle of hot pepper sauce from Barbados by way of Brixton and a copy of Monica Ali’s Brick Lane purchased on Brick Lane. As I do, I recall something Mark Jones told me: There may be more beautiful markets in the world, “but nothing has its finger on the pulse of humanity like London’s markets do.” And that is beautiful in its own way.
Amy Syracuse is a London-based freelance writer. Her guide to living in London, When in London, is due out in the U.S. next summer.
— Amy Syracuse
Out-of-This-World Experiences
Though local community markets offer an ideal way to explore London’s multicultural milieu, you don’t necessarily need to leave central London to go global. Many of the city’s markets offer a wide range of cultural experiences.
- Eat your way around the continent at Borough Market. Located just south of the Thames River near London Bridge Station, Borough Market has in recent years undergone a renaissance — one that’s brought the tastes of continental Europe to London’s oldest market. Vendors include purveyors of delicacies from France, Germany, Greece, Italy, Poland, Portugal, Spain, Sweden, and Switzerland, among others (boroughmarket.org.uk).
- Unearth a piece of world history on Portobello Road. Saturdays see this famous London road turn into the world’s largest antiques market. With some 1,500 dealers, you may have to dig to find what you’re looking for. But a recent trip unearthed treasures like African tribal masks, Austrian enamels, Chinese vases, Russian wooden nesting dolls, and more (portobelloroad.co.uk).
- Scope out international styles at Camden Lock. Camden Lock, the original market of Camden Town, is the perfect place to find clothing, accessories, and home decor items from the world over. Among the possibilities are Afghan, Persian, and Turkish rugs; Maori jade carvings from New Zealand; Czech costume jewelry; and Mexican crafts, among others. Of course, as one of London’s top tourist destinations, Camden Lock Market is also an ideal venue for international people watching (camdenlockmarket.com).
— A.S.
Getting There: Continental offers daily nonstop service to London from its hubs in Houston and New York/Newark and seasonal service from its hub in Cleveland. Continental also offers daily nonstop service to Bristol from its hub in New York/Newark.
