Hello old friend

Yesterday we were in East London for a birthday party, so decided to do that rather embarrassing thing where you revisit your old house and street.

I'm glad we did actually. It was really interesting to see how Wilton Way has changed -  the trendification continues. Our old flat was on the little row of shops that is now lauded in Time Out and the New York Times as the Williamsburg of East London. Since I was last there, a new wine shop has opened in the old post office, a hip hairdresser in the old hairdresser's, and an art book shop in a store that was closed for as long as I lived there.

It really is very impressive and a model for reinvigorating retail space that owes everything to people following their dreams and being mutually supportive, and nothing to Mary Portas. It's the sort of approach that could work in  Colchester, and I know that there are enough imaginative and creative people to make it happen. Maybe they just need to focus their efforts on a particular street to create a little hip quarter with its own vigour.

Anyway, back in East London, the thing that really made my day was bumping into my old neighbour Mr Abdul. He is an elderly Pakistani gentleman who used to run a small grocer's next door in the decidedly pre-hip days. The only thing vintage about his shop was him.

He is a delightful old gentleman and it was hard to pass him in the street without stopping to chat and then wondering where the time had gone. His younger son and I used to get completely lost in dissecting the weekend's football results.

It was a lovely surprise to spot him walking down the street, looking slightly out of place among all the fashionistas and yummy mummies that now make up the local scene. I extended  my hand to shake his, only to be embraced in a big bear hug. It was most unexpected and not a little humbling - it's nice to be missed. We had the two boys with us as well, who he always showed an interest in, and was probably surprised to see how big they have become in the past two years. We spoke about how he was (health not so good), his wife (ditto), his son and his family (still living with them, and looking after his parents - good boy! Got a good job with Deloitte, although his first love was football and he had trials with Ipswich).

And then we went our way. It's possible I'll never see him again, which is a very sad thought.

Elsewhere in my old manor there were lots of other changes, not least the arrival of Boris Bikes. In the past I've called for them to be in East London and now you can hardly move for them, certainly in the strip from the West End to the Olympic Stadium.

We also lunched at Hackney City Farm, still a haven for young families and still a big it with the kids. Nice to be back, if only for a day.

Tears for Hackney

We moved from London in December and I periodically find myself getting wistful about our previous life in lovely London Fields. The seemingly endless pieces about how our old road, Wilton Way, is an increasingly hip hangout, combined with the excitement of the coming Olympics, and the sheer variety and dynamism of Hackney, make me pine for what we had there.

The pictures from yesterday are so shocking, it's almost as if they were from another country. Yet it's one that I'm strangely familiar with after 11 years of living there. Mare Street was a stone's throw away - probably not the most appropriate description in the circumstances.

Clarence Road, where the evening's standoff took place, was near my son's nursery. We'd often come walking back from Pembury Nursery down that road to go to the shops in the Narrow Way. It was one of the poorest shopping streets in a poor borough - mainly second hand and cheap stores. The grocers that was looted was probably the biggest business along there. There was also a second hand book shop run by a local lady who supplied the nursery with any children's books that came her way.

Did many of these businesses have insurance? I doubt it. If the book lady's shop window was put in, I can't see how she'll get up and running again.

Ironically, given its image as an underprivileged area, the Pembury Estate, which seemed to be the centre of things yesterday, has benefitted from a great deal of investment in recent years. It is by no means a sink estate, and consists of tidy and quite appealing looking flats. It is also round the corner from Mossbourne Academy, one of the most successful academy initiatives in the country, and a non-selective school that many hard working local children attend. A large swathe of un-used land is slated for a major housing and retail developent - Pembury Circus.

Of course, that's not the whole picture. Pembury Estate was raided by drugs police a few weeks ago as part of a major swoop on dealers in the area. The surrounding streets have also seen the deaths of too many young men in recent years.

Hackney has always enjoyed an edgy reputation, but in all the time I lived there, I don't think I ever felt as if I was living in a scary area. I doubt I'd feel that now, especially with two young children. How must parents in the area be explaining to their children what's going on, and when it's all going to stop.

If all of this makes me sound like one of those people who suddenly 'disses' London as soon as they leave, that's not the intention. I loved living in the capital and might do again one day. It really is one of the most exciting cities in the world, and it is full of the people of the world. And Hackney, in some ways, is like a miniature version of London.

What has happened seems to sad and pointless. I don't know why it happened, and I don't know what will make it stop. There are plenty of theories flying around - it's the bankers, it's the cuts, they're just criminals, it's family breakdown, it's all down to the police ... I'm sure we've all got our own pet favourites, but do any of us really know?

Answers on a postcard please.

Let us eat cake

Sugar lovers will be delighted to learn that a new cake shop is due to open on Wilton Way. I say, a new one, as if the road is a concentration of patisserie. At the moment, you can pick up a Mr Kiplings from Costcutter, and that's about it. However, from this Saturday, Violet will be dispensing posh cup cakes, teas and coffees from the strange blocky building about half way along the street. This brings to two the number of cafes on the road, and if I remember rightly from Phil and Kirstie, the appearance of such outlets is a sure sign that the area is on the up. Mind you, it was starting from a low base. It's not so long ago that Wilton Way was the area's dumping ground for stolen cars - I wonder where they're left now. Currently Violet sells its cakes on Broadway Market, so it should be interesting to see if it can become a through the week destination for cake lovers. I shall certainly check them out, if only to see if I can pinch their icing recipe.

(Please note, the pictured cupcakes are for display purposes only and are not indicative of the merchandise that is likely to be sold at Violet. These were from a school fete and cost 30p each. Violet's are about £2.50 each, a price that would have Mrs Holiday's mum and dad needing a sit down. I think we'll be sticking to the Mr Kipling's with them.)