Where to go when you love coffee

What coffee do you drink? Here are some ways to enjoy coffee (and food) Ethiopian style near Shepherd's Bush. Words from Nicola Baird.

Coffee the Ethiopian way.

My friend, the incredible singer Hanisha Solomon, who was born in Ethiopia, suggested we try eating at Flamingo - one of London's excellent Ethiopian restaurants - for a half-term treat. As another close friend, Nicky, and I both find it difficult to get our exam-stressed teenagers out of bed in the morning we thought it an excellent choice of treat, knowing Nell and Xander would be persuaded to leave the house for an Ethiopian lunch.  Which is how we became a party of six sitting around two sharing plates of neatly rolled injera and various triangular piles of vegetables.

In case you don't know much about Ethiopian music - this is my favourite song by Hanisha Solomon (listen while you read, and ideally buy her albums).

https://youtu.be/8wdV6vv4xE4

Injera is the delicious Ethiopian bread that works as a plate and an eating utensil (use the right hand!), looks tricky to make. The teens - our meat eating quotient - also had a rather generous heap of lamb cooked in two different ways. They both preferred the spicy option.

At Flamingo there is also a mini booth at the back of the restaurant acting as a fresh butcher.  It was quite something to see meat being carved off a trio of haunches, handed to the chef and cooked up. I didn't take a photo as it felt rude, but I wish I had - will have to go back.

Ethiopians have a very generous culture. Hanisha begged us to eat more, drink more water, eat more injera and soon we all felt rollingly full. Which is when the roasted Ethiopian coffee beans were brought to our table for inspection. The coffee was made out of sight then brought back in an iron pot and served in handleless cups with popcorn. What a treat.

Since I saw the award-winning Sundance documentary, Black Gold about the struggle to grow Ethiopian coffee, I try to buy fair trade, and ideally, Ethiopian beans. It's even more important when you know that 15 million Ethiopians make a living related to coffee (equal to 67 per cent of the country's foreign exports). But the farmers producing the beans may only make 12-25 cents (per kilo picked) leaving many impoverished. Here's a trailer from the film to inspire, explaining why fair "trade is more important than aid."

https://youtu.be/uiWDjObe_fs

One of the lovely things about Flamingo is that it isn't just packed with Ethiopians wanting a taste of home. There were also plenty of lunchers enjoying a good value, tasty meal close to Goldhawk Road tube. London has quite a few Ethiopian restaurants, and I certainly hope to visit more. But when it comes to coffee, which I drink in bucket-loads, daily, picking fair-priced Ethiopian beans has become a habit I'm happy to have.

• Have a meal at Flamingo, 31 Goldhawk Road, Shepherd's Bush, W12
• Join an Ethiopian cookery class on Wednesday 19 April from 7-9.30pm with Ethiopian Master Chef Tsige. For EC1 residents it's £5, anyone else £30. To book contact Central Street Cookery School, 90 Central Steet, London, EC1 (near Old Street) on 020 7549 8176 or info@centralstreet.org or check their website.
• More about Nicola Baird's books and blogs on  www.nicolabaird.com or www.islingtonfacesblog.com 

New ways to make a pilgrimage

Are you the pilgrim type? You might be as there's 100 million pilgrim journeys made each year alone. I think I could be... if I just pick the right attitude rather than a high profile route. Words from Nicola Baird  (see www.nicolabaird.com orwww.islingtonfacesblog.com for more info about my books and blogs).

The Lea Valley Walk finishes just after the Olympic Park at Stratford - so walk on
a West Ham home game and you'll get the added thrill of being with 57,000 football
fans. It's not as bad as it sounds - and the cheers of goals add to the celebration that
you've nearly finished a 50 mile walk. Or just started.

I’ve always assumed a pilgrimage isn’t right for me, even if 100 million people annually complete the 14 best known... according to the Huffington Post. These are:

1. The Ganges River, India
2. Mecca, Saudi Arabia
3. Golden Temple, Amritsar, India
4. Our Lady of Guadalupe, Mexico City
5. Vaishno Devi Temple, India
6. Lourdes, France
7. Bahai Gardens, Israel
8. Vatican, Rome
9. Jerusalem, Israel
10. Bethlehem, Israel
11. Machu Picchu, Peru
12. Rumi's Tomb, Turkey
13. Bodi Tree (fig tree), India
14. Stonehenge, Wiltshire * (I've been here, in fact cycled some of the way, see this post)

But the April 2017 issue of The Simple Things magazine has flipped my thinking. That’s because the criteria they set for a pilgrim fits beautifully into how I try and live (try, note). Here’s how to turn an ordinary walk into a pilgrimage (from the British Pilgrimage Trust )

1. Go slowly
2. Improve the way (pick up rubbish, shut gates, rescue what needs rescuing etc)
3. Accept more, need less
4. Pass the blessing on

==================================

REPORT CARD 2017

• Well #1 is no problem. It took nearly five years to complete the NewRiver Path (see my blog post here) despite it being short and practically ending by my door. 
• #2 is one I try and do, ideally by remembering to take a plastic bag for litter. Actually you don’t need to as I usually find at least one of the pieces of litter is an empty plastic bag - essentially offering itself to be filled with recyclables. 
• I’m not really sure about #3 – I sometimes beg my husband, Pete, to carry my rucksack (but in exchange I'll carry the dog poos) 
• #4 I’m useless at. But seems like a good new habit to make.

Judgment: Two out of four isn’t a bad start… I’m officially pilgrim-lite.

========================================

The next long walk starts here... The Lea
Valley Walk from Luton to the Thames.

Fortunately there’s a brand new journey - pilgrimage - to start. This time Pete and I are going to walk the Lea Valley Walk, using one of Cicerone’s handy guides. This one is written by Leigh Hatts (3^rd edition came out in 2015 so doesn't include the news that West Ham is now based at the Olympic Stadium, which is now called the London Stadium). The River Lea starts unpromisingly in Leagrave (such a strange name for a birth) then wiggles 50 miles across Bedfordshire and through the Olympic parts of London to the East India Dock and out to the River Thames. The ambitious walker can zip down this practically flat, super-waymarked, mostly off road route in 2 days. I expect to take much longer (see pilgrim rule #1).

Reading the guide this walk is surprisingly exciting because it covers the vast Lea Valley - something all council-tax paying Londoners contribute towards maintaining. I’ve done some volunteering clearing soapwort out of ditches with BTCV, listened to nightingales near Cheshunt and I’ve enjoyed plenty of more random walks around the area. But now I’m set on selling this as a wonderful journey across “London’s playground” and “London’s wildlife reserve” (depends who you talk to) because the Lea Valley according to former Mayor Boris Johnson is “London’s Lake District”.

The walk starts in Luton – which apparently is worth exploring for a day or two, somewhere I’ve never considered visiting. And because it also goes through the rather lovely towns of Harpendon, Hatfield and Hertford there are some excellent old pubs to try out (maybe this is rule #4 if I buy a pint for Pete when he is in need!).

The ending is conveniently close to the new West Ham stadium, where Pete spends a great deal of time (see pic above). So I can imagine being able to walk several chunks of the final section of the Lea Valley Walk with him before or after home games. This will definitely offer litter-picking opportunities (see #2)

Lea Valley Park Authority HQ is based at
Myddleton House (a tiny but worthwhile detour
from the Lea Valley Walk.

Ready, steady, go
So in March 2017 we began our Lea Valley Walk with... a detour to Myddleton House which is the Lea Valley Park Authority HQ. It’s also a key detour for the New River Walk. 

Myddleton House has an exquisite spring garden – designed like an Alpine meadow by EA Bowles (1865-1954). It’s about the only place on the Lea Valley or New River walks that is vehemently anti-dog. But… you must go in the spring for a quick look at the blanket of daffodils planted near where the New River used to run and then try counting the bee hives (6+). There’s also a lovely tea room. Actually there’s another nice tea room at the next door estate, Forty Hall, which is about a 15 minute (slow) walk away. And here I met a school governing colleague who’d been on a mission to collect a bag of lion poo (as you do) at one of the many garden centres I'd never noticed in the area because they are just behind the A10.

The A10 is theoretically my road in and out of London. As a car owner (and even now occasionally when renting a car to visit my Herts-based family) I’ve driven along it many times… so it has been a real pleasure diving off the A10 on foot (via train stations like Turkey Street and dual carriage pedestrian underpasses) to discover that Enfield is big on ribbon development but behind the grim A10 (sorry road lovers) the countryside is old-fashioned idyllic, both on the west side around Myddleton House Gardens, Forty Hall and the horticultural training centre  Capel Manor, as well of course as the huge chunk of eastern wetlands that make up the 10,000 acre Lea Valley park.  I can see now why people really like living here. As ever a journey by foot tells you so much more than a journey by car. 

So far the Lea Valley Walk has been a 10/10. I just wonder how long it will take for me to complete it. Do you think the modern pilgrim-lite is allowed to start a sweepstake?

• The Lea Valley Walk, Leigh Hatts (Cicerone, £12.95) (note the author's name!)
• leevalleypark.org.uk  (strange fact from the book: "there are at least 25 different spellings for the river's name")
• visitleevalleyorg.uk/cycling

How the New River Path makes you think about... deserts

How well do you know where you live? I'm based in London so it's a pleasure to explore a little known path along a canal that runs from Hertford directly into Islington. Words from Nicola Baird  (see www.nicolabaird.com or www.islingtonfacesblog.com for more info about my books and blogs).

Pete on a section of the New River Path. "Water, water everywhere, and
not a drop to drink," - a famous line from The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner.

The New River Path is a 28 mile (45km) footpath which stays close to a canal, hand-dug back in 1613. It was built to bring fresh drinking water from the springs at Amwell, near Hertford into north London. Quite amazingly it's still doing this job. I know this because at the entrance to many of the grassy paths running on just one bank of each section of the New River (which as you've guessed now is neither new, nor a river) is a Thames Water notice saying that it brings fresh water to north London so no fishing or boating is allowed (and cyclists are definitely not welcome).

Here's a link to the map created by Thames Water which guides you along the whole of the New River Path.

The classic New River Path view
with swan, goose and kissing gate.

More friendly is the sign that says "non public right of way but the owner allows the public to use it at their own risk for the time being."

It is however a wonderful walk from or to the heart of Islington where I live. In fact the ending is at the old river head close to Sadler's Wells (the clue is in that name too). This is now super chic apartments (I know because i managed to slip into the building at the last September Open House) which has the old oak-panelled board room in situ which residents are allowed to hire this for dinner parties!

Real deserts
Do you take potable water for granted? I absolutely do. It is such luck to live in the UK and be able to moan about our crazy climate with its endless rain showers. We got wet plenty of times on our New River odyssey. And if we forgot water we just looked for a pub and asked for a free glass or for our water bottle to be topped up.

Food deserts
A lot of the New River takes the walker through suburbia - rows of Edwardian style villas adapted to make it easy to drive everywhere. As a result there are no corner shops and no cafes selling a nice cup of tea - unless you head to the centre of the area you are passing, or a cafe in a park. So many front gardens are paved over and crowded with cars - often there's space for three vehicles.

Cultural deserts
I really like Cheshunt - to the east of the railway station is an entrance to Lee Valley Park, designed both as a nature reserve and London's playground. I've been here to take a walk, to listen to nightingales and simply to escape the city. But to the west of the station Cheshunt is a good example of dreadful ribbon development. The houses are rarely above two-floors so they seem to spread out for miles. I'd thought of Cheshunt as the countryside, partly because it is not on the A-Z. But there is considerable new building going up - a lot of it daft executive style homes built in too grand a style, too close to each other. It's true that I'm used to the Victorian/Georgian streets of Islington but they are at least offer high density living. Although i guess that's why people move out too, to get more space. But "more space" is at the expense of green and brown belt.

Increasingly Cheshunt has become a London overflow. For example the lovely lady I've been mentoring through Migrants Organise was temporarily housed in Cheshunt, byTottenham Council - much to her distress. She knew it wasn't London where she wanted to be - in part because it lacks bus services (although there are some) and the sort of cheap food shop she needed to survive. It was also an exceedingly expensive journey to her children's school in inner London. I couldn't convince her to visit the New River Path as she felt it was too far for her and her little kids to walk. Sadly she was a little scared of the Lee Valley Country Park.

Map 1 of 5 which guide you along
the New River Path.

Memories from the New River Path
It's taken my family nine trips starting in October 2013 and finishing in March 2017...

• Detouring in Ware to look at the famous gazebos built along the River Lea
• Endless stopping for someone in the party to put on a hat, take off gloves, have a rest, need a drink, pick up the dog's poo etc. If you walk with others build in hours of wasted (quality) time. If you route march you can be sure your family and friends won't join you again.
• Introducing our daughters' friends to the New River Path
• Listening to more than 100 Canada and Egyptian geese on the fields near the Cheshunt section
• Being surprised to find the New River was put into a double-tunnel above the traffic to cross the M25 motorway.
• Watching a cormorant dive and catch a fish in Enfield.
• Hearing a swan beat its wings as it flew down a section of New River, about 2 metres above the water.
• Finding a surprise farmers' market in Palmer's Green and buying a tasty loaf of bread.
• The New River Festival held in Finsbury Park to celebrate 400 years since the canal was built.

New River path is on the left of this shot at the London Wildlife Trust's
newest reserve in Hackney.

What's the best bit?
Recently the East Reservoir has become a stunning Wildlife Trust nature reserve - opened by David Attenborough and boasting all sorts of fantastic wildlife, including the occasional bittern. There's also a fab cafe, Lizzy's at the Coal House Cafe (open every day 9am-4pm, not long after the reserve is locked). A walk beside the reed beds is always a treat, even if there's plenty of noise from Purin or any other festival sounds floating from not-so-far away Clissold Park. This huge expanse of water is the opposite of a desert - we're lucky to have it in north London.

Over to you
Have you enjoyed a trip down the New River path? Let me know your favourite section.

That dream of cycling away via the Danube

What's the furthest you've ever cycled? And could you go further? Words from Nicola Baird  (see www.nicolabaird.com for more info about my books and blogs).

Bikes with unusual loads, but the paniers have all sorts of potential
for a long journey.

About 10 years after I left university a guy in the year above had a book published about cycling across Chile, Argentina and Bolivia to raise funds for the Leukaemia Reseach Fund. I was so impressed that even another 20 years on, during a recent book clear out I decided to keep his book on my shelves. This was clearly a man who knew something secret about life and tenacity. The trail to Titicaca by Rupert Attlee is a good read too.

Long distance journeys have always been popular. It's a challenging way to grow up, get away from the old you, fit into your skin, explore etc. We all know travel's attraction dating right back to Odysseus (the Greek who gave us the wonderful word odyssey).

Nowadays long distance travel is often more about taking a holiday to push yourself because (good) experiences are more important than possessions. I pretty much agree with that sentiment (especially if it involves low carbon travel and doesn't begin and end with a plane flight), except somehow I've never managed to cycle more than 50 miles in one day. But, I remember that journey with pride as I managed to get from London to Oxford in aid of charity. It was a total killer and at the celebration gig afterwards with the exuberant Bhundu Boys (from Zimbabwe) playing I crashed out asleep. Clearly I wasn't bicycle honed. And yet I've cycled almost every day since I was 16 years old at sixth form, and love the way a bicycle offers freedom and speedy journeys.

No surprise then that I like to read about bike journeys. At the start of 2017 I was hooked by Tim Moore's latest book The Cyclist Who Went Out In the Cold. Tim has a serious track record at pushing himself to do slightly daft - aka challenging - routes. This time he cycles 6,000 miles along the route of the old Cold War front on a tiny-wheeled, two-geared East German-made shopping bike (a MIFA 900). And he starts the journey in the Arctic Circle, in winter: you couldn't make his stories up. It's an inspiring read, often funny and good for your Cold War knowledge (well it's helped mine)...

When you see a cycle book and think
that could be me out there...

The perseverance travel bug kicks in fast.

Inspired by Tim Moore's cycle journeys up the Alps, and along historic borders I'm now looking closely at The Danube Cycleway (volume 2), published by long distance travel guide specialists Cicerone, thinking could I? Could I get on my bike and pedal from Budapest to the Black Sea (this is the end part of Europe's second longest river)?

My guidebook isn't dog-eared yet, but I've read a few of the recommended stages and feel it's possible. I think it helps having a cyclist in glasses gracing the front cover who looks rather like a government ad to get more women active ("still slow, still lapping the couch"). That woman could be me. Or it could be me when I've got just a few less childcare responsibilities. Unless of course I can talk my youngest teenager into joining me...

The Danube Cycleway (Volume 1 and 2) are extremely detailed, but not that huge. Which is why they recommend taking additional more detailed maps for Hungary, Croatia, Serbia and Romania and provide info about where to find those formal maps. I feel the Cicerone approach really works for an armchair traveller (who might well become the real thing) - as it helps you imagine (and potentially plan) every detail from what to wear to how to get your bike to the starting point. There are some great tables which show the mileage, likely timings, location of cycle shops and accommodation. This kind of info isn't in Tim Moore's book - it makes his ability to cycle such challenging routes seem extra brilliant - but it clearly saves hours of research. It's still going to be hard work doing the route planning (eg, around weather, where to stay and language).

I have real problems looking at maps and seeing their world. Guide books make it a bit easier to imagine the terrain, people and even sunlight. Nothing beats being there, but in order to decide where to be these handy Cicerone guides take me a lot closer to a 3D imagining! And perhaps it's almost a sign that the last person to cut my hair grew up in Budapest...

More tellingly both Tim Moore's book and the Danube Cycleway make Romania look the sort of country I would adore visiting, even if Romanian dogs are clearly not keen on cyclists.

The Danube Cycleway (vol 2 from Budapest to the Black Sea) by Mike Wells (Cicerone, £16.95)