torz

Today, dear Walthamstow, I leave you.

I leave you behind, for South Woodford, an area we scoped out a few years ago, and quickly dismissed as being out of our price range, but thanks to the hipsters of East London looks like pretty good value now. It’s the kind of place your parents would be proud to see you living, but you’re not quite sure about it yourself because it’s admitting that you’re a grown up, and let’s be honest, no one really ever wants to admit that, even at the wrong side of 30. Or 40. Or probably 50. Or 60.

When we bought our place in Walthamstow, our budget stretched to a 2 bed terrace in E17, which was a huge huge huge deal, to have an actual whole house in a London postcode. We were tipped over the edge and convinced to buy in an area we basically knew nothing about, entirely because of Walthamstow Village, which although a good fifteen minute walk from our new house, was like a minature Crouch End, the place we had lived in for years, and knew and loved, and felt comfortable in. The irony of the small amount of time I’d end up spending there in my time in the Stow.

Most of my time anywhere near Walthamstow Village has been spent on an industrial estate on Shernall Street, gazing at the shining, bright, beautiful neon lights of God’s Own Junkyard, drinking anything with Damson Gin at Mother’s Ruin, or sitting around the car park on a picnic bench in the sunshine trying desperately to convince myself I liked craft beer at the Wildcard Brewery. That car park is like the Athena poster for our generation, men with beards, baby bjorns and beer. None of the above was like Crouch End. It was less obviously beautiful, yet so, so much better.

What I didn’t know, dear Walthamstow was how you would worm your way into my identity. How I’d become proud of where I lived. It was a badge of honour. The transition from the ‘oh I’m sorry face’ we got from people when we first moved in, to the 'oh, it’s so cool round there’ face, that I get now. My twitter handle proudly pronounces me as a Walthamstow resident. It seems like half of the young (ish) influencers in the music business live in Walthamstow, if not round the corner in Leyton or Tottenham. If I was a corporate wanker, which on occasions I often enjoy being, I’d say Walthamstow fits perfectly with my what I’d love my personal brand to be. A little rough around the edges, never perfect, but enthusiastic, challenging, open to change, welcoming, and thinking a little differently.

It’s taught me a thing or two, the Stow. I remember walking down the market, early on after moving in, and being slightly concerned about what was at the end of my road. It looked scruffy and alien to me. I didn’t know it. I didn’t get it. Now, without a shadow of a doubt, it’s the thing I’ll miss most. It’s actually not the market itself. It’s the parts around it. Once you start opening those doors of shops and walking through them, there are so many discoveries to be made. I haven’t even scratched the surface in my few years here. There’s Ricco’s, for great coffee and a quirky atmosphere (it would make for such a great cocktail bar pop up in the evenings)… Manzes Grade 2 listed pie and mash shop where I had liquor for the first time, (mediocre pie, incredible architecture)… the fabric shops - if only I had the inclination to make my own clothes… the specialist Asian food shops that sell the ingredients for my Thai curry pastes I’d usually only find online, at an extortionate price, the Windmill (RIP) for great value tapas with friends… Lidl, who knew! The international supermarket, the biggest spring onions I’ve ever seen and the most brilliant value fruit and veg, I think I once worked it out as over 10% cheaper than Tesco… Cafe 56 round the corner at St James St, for when you want to pretend to be a hipster or impress a non native visitor…the grill place called Deja Vu we discovered last week that has a fully covered back garden that makes you feel like you are on holiday…. Sam’s 99p shop for party decorations and general 'I can’t believe that’s a quidness’… The Scene at the top of the market for Yum Yum’s Thai (great food, mediocre atmosphere), a cinema, Turtle Bay’s ridiculous happy hour deal that runs from 10pm til 1pm and my new favourite hipster place, Sodo sourdough pizza, that sells a very small menu but does it amazingly well in a brilliantly on trend atmosphere…and my local, The Chequers pub. When we moved in, my major concern was the lack of pubs - and in less than a year we were spoilt for choice and I save my favourite pub badge for The Chequers. It’s just a lovely place to be. And that’s just on the market (oh and the banter between the traders early morning is entertainment in itself) and surrounds. I haven’t even talked about The Bell, Blackhorse Workshop and Wood Street coffee, Wood Street market, and the jewel in Walthamstow’s crown, the Marshes. Oh, the lovely Marshes. The canal boats and life that goes on down there, the long grass, the water, the industry of the train line and the electricity pylons up against the wildness of the space, oh the list could go on.

Many of these places have appeared recently, and they keep appearing. So much of it driven by local people. It’s all about the people here. All types, shapes, sizes. And I think those people are inspired by an energy created by each other. It’s an exciting place to be, an exciting place to grow with, it surely must be one of the hippest suburbs in the world, thanks to the over indexing of coverage in Time Out and Evening Standard, I’m sure they must have staff writers who live in the area…

There’s a sense of being able to achieve the impossible here. A good friend of mine, legally holds raves with licenses until 6am, she just asked and the council said yes. If you want to put on a night in an unused space, you just do it. Reggae night in a woodwork creators space? Sure! Don’t forget to invite the local brewers to sell beer. It’s a melting pot of not only people, but ideas.

Walthamstow does have its downsides, like trying to get an appointment at a Doctor’s surgery. I also find some of the overbearing local social media conversations/arguments difficult to stomach. But, social media also has its advantages. I moved in with no local mates and went to a tweet up (a meet up with people you’ve met on twitter) and made a good friend around the corner. I’ve borrowed kitchenware from locals after putting a request out there, I found the lovely chap I was buying my house from on twitter who turns out to be a hub of the local community, I met an incredibly talented musician and his brill girlfriend randomly at the wildcard, and have met numerous people I can say hello to over a Peppe pizza at the Rose and Crown pub.

People are geniuely brilliant around here. With the exception of one of the local councillors who is entirely corrupt as far as I can gather. I’d say more but I’m scared of his mafia like family and influence over Waltham Forest council but he’ll probably have me shot or quietened in some way.

It’s a total cliché, but all types and shaped and sizes and ages of people do live here harmoniously. When any kind of extremist voice comes to town, everyone stands together to tell them to bugger off. Everyone is welcome in The Stow.

So if Walthamstow is the land of opportunity, of brilliant people, and leading the way in social media communities in real life - why am I leaving, I hear you ask?

I’m having a baby. Much as I will be actively encouraging my other half into a baby bjorn and beers at the Wildcard in the future, and Walthamstow would be a brilliant place to bring a baby up, the truth is - it’s insane hike in house prices has priced me out, yet at the same time offered me an opportunity to have a 3rd bedroom, a garden and parking for the T25 campervan. All those things that grown up people want. I know financially I’d be better off staying as you can see the development and gentrification getting more intense every day of the week. But now it has to be about more than that. It has to do with having my own patch of grass to roll around with a our own little toddler and you can’t put a price on that.

Walthamstow provided me with an opportunity somewhere else. But just in the next borough. Not that far. I’m not that grown up. Yet.

Thank you E17 for reminding me that imperfection is so much more inspiring than perfection. You taught me a whole set of life lessons I likely would have never learned in Crouch End.

With love from E18. Only one number between us, but a whole new set of learnings and life experiences in front of us here too.

Victoria