As I prepare for my project adventure in Croatia, I may take a glance from time to time at parts of London I’m particularly fond off.
Brixton is one of those edgy places, maybe a bit marmite? I do like Brixton although I haven’t always. I largely grew up down the road in its sister neighbourhood, Clapham, and preferred to head south central towards Chelsea and the West End on errant days.
Recently, however, I’m appreciating Brixton more. It helps that there’s been an increased investment in the area, the most superficial expression being the trendy restaurants that have sprung up. The Ritzy Arthouse cinema reminds me of bygone film days – watching them of course, not starring in them.
I remember once offering to go with a student friend of mine to an all-night ‘mafia’ film season night (Scarface and others I don’t remember) that ended with us stumbling out at 4 pm. More fool me. Then, there was the time myself, my brother and friends smuggled in some Kentucky Fried Chicken to munch on while watching a movie (I think that one was Save the Last Dance with Julia Stiles).
Brixton today is a maze of markets and shops hidden in intriguing alleyways. A creative buzzing hub that’s determined to defy being categorised a bland metropolitan village.