Weeks later, Brexit is still on London바카라s mind. Drop by at a pub, and chances are you바카라ll run into a group furiously debating Brexit. With ale in the system, the upper lip turns less stiff, and the excÂhange is boisterous. It바카라s not uncommon to find an eldÂerly gent nursing a drink by himself abruptly join the group and aggressively side with those who voted out of EU. Yes, it바카라s an age divide, no questions. The young minicab driver of Pakistani origin is quite clearly bitter: 바카라Old f*&%ing aunties don바카라t want guys like us here.바카라 But the pub chatter tells me it goes beyond that, and the other obvious issue of immigration: prejudice. Some local goras are convinced Brits are a superior race, and therefore must 바카라do their own bloody thing바카라. The pragmatists are, of course, livid. I could gather their biggest fear is that the proud British passport will end up being treated on par with downmarket South Asian passports while travelling within Europe. And this they find most difficult to swallow. Brexit may have pounded the pound but pub-Âowners seem to have gained.
London tabloids rage on, shredding hard-earned reputations with glee. I miss this back home: we have no tabloid culture, and even the dailies masquerading as tabloids are serious and preachy. So all through my fortnight바카라s stay, I grab a tabloid every day. Right now, The Sun is hammering the Lloyds Bank CEO. His crime? No, he didn바카라t kill anyone, gyp his empÂloyer or squirrel away millions on a tiny island somewhere. He was caught cheating on his wife. Is that a big deal, or is he the first CEO with a secret mistress? The man isn바카라t a public figure nor is his paycheck signed by taxpayers, so isn바카라t he entitled to a private life? And as long as he is not screwing his employers or his customers, it should be okay, right? Wrong. Because this is London. And tabloids here don바카라t worry about such minor details. They바카라ll go all out and have you for supper if you dare have an extramarital fling. As I leave the UK, there are calls for the banker바카라s resignation, and the tabloids are busy putting out bills he collected during his sexcapade, including those from a hotel minibar and spa. And to think the only one really affected by the story is the officer바카라s missus. Next juicy target: Indian-born MP Keith Vaz. What fun!
We stay at Hampstead, though we don바카라t have a million pounds to splurge. We prefer it as it바카라s yob-free (like comedian Ricky Gervais tweeted, 바카라I live in Hampstead. I don바카라t see working-class people.바카라) and so largely crime-free; you are unlÂÂikely to get stabbed while walking to your B&B pad after dinner just becÂause you are brown. Hamsptead folks are determined to remain independent and were happy to see McDonald바카라s and Starbucks close down. This puts a minor dent in the pocket of quid-starved Indians like me, but did I mention La Creperie for the best mushroom crepes and The Flask, a gorgeous old pub? Come 10:30 pm and HamÂpstead goes to sleep, even the bars and restaurants. There바카라s pin-drop silence at night. Just by being united in their ambition, residents have achieved the Âunthinkable: keeping their area un-London-like (not hard with the Heath and its ponds, the city바카라s lungs). Wish the big Indian cities could set their focus on something similar and give tourists an option to relax and unwind.
I usually avoid desi food in London. What바카라s the point of flying all the way, paying hefty UK visa fees and suffering long queues at Heathrow passport control if I shall end up eating chicken tikka masala. In any case, as we all know, there is a good chance the 바카라Indian바카라 restaurant is run by illegal migrants from Dhaka. So good old fish and chips it is going to be. However, it is difficult to ignore the milling crowd outside Dishoom, the hot and happening Indian restaurant at the snazzy Covent Garden. And those waiting are mostly white. Dishoom바카라s SP? Bombay-style street food. Eh! Curiosity gets the better of us, and we land a precious table after a great deal of Bombay-style hustling. Bad idea. The interiors lack character. Dishoom is a cross between a retro Bollywood studio, a SoBo Irani joint and a fancy corporate restaurant. And it ends up being none of them. If you are looking for a slice of Bombay, as I was, you will be terribly disappointed. The vada is tasty but the pav is an English bun. The chana is passable but the bhatura is a puffed up kulcha. I am told Dishoom hires Indian and non-Indian cooks. The terrible fusion shows. But then who cares for authenticity, the queues are only getting longer.
A blink-and-miss signboard in Hampstead: 바카라George Orwell. 1903-1950. Lived and worked in a bookshop on this site.바카라 Motihari is doing better: converting his place of birth into a sprawling museum.
Bombay-based Anil Thakraney is an adman-turned-columnist.
E-mail your diarist: anil.thakraney [AT] gmail [DOT] com