Some South Woodford scribbles from DD, our resident diarist and observer of all things local. Illustrated by Evelyn Rowland
We came back recently from Scotland: glorious Glasgow, teeming with life, then Peebles, in The Borders, with strolls along the banks of the Tweed. Such varied and wonderful scenery. Back home to South Woodford. Clarks on hand to give us a lift home with our heavy suitcases. Key in the door. Kettle on. Home sweet home. One of our neighbours, Rajesh, was just going out, but stopped to chat. “That’s exactly how we felt when we arrived back from India last week. What is it about South Woodford? It’s such a wonderfully friendly neighbourhood. We arrived here in 1987, and we’ve moved house twice, but never considered leaving the area. I am a member of the South Woodford Business Network. A community in itself, really. The fact that most of the small shops are owned and run by local people adds to that feeling of togetherness.”
Another neighbour, Gillian, admitted: “I never walk down the road without at least one stop to catch up on news of friends. I grew up in mid-Wales. Five miles from the nearest shop. Now, there are plenty, almost on my doorstep.” Later on, I met Linda in the queue at Nationwide. “Oh, it’s the sense of community,” she said. “On warm days, it’s lovely to sit in the Shrubbery gardens and watch the world go by, or I can nip off on the 123 to visit the William Morris Gallery in Walthamstow or take the Central Line to Stratford for the big chain stores. All so convenient. And what about Nationwide? NatWest, Barclays and HSBC have seen fit to abandon us. I really appreciate the personal service here.”
Tom said he’d give the matter some serious thought: “I’ve lived here for 80 years, in the same house with its own quirks: the squeaky floorboard on the landing, the roses smiling at me through the kitchen window. The road layout is familiar, the parade of shops. Some still have the same purpose: the two chemists on George Lane, the dentist in Glebelands, solicitors in the Shrubberies. The familiar smells from the chip shops and wood ovens, the same hum from the A406, the ambulance sirens heading for Whipps Cross. The same walk to the station for my daily commute into town. I was born here. It feels like home because that’s what it is, and my wife and family and friends are there to share it.”
Two delightful, contrasting but complementary encounters came next: Beth was in Boots with her two young daughters. “Oh yes, we’re happy here. We lived nearer London before, but since moving to Derby Road, we have felt a strong sense of belonging. We all chat as neighbours. There’s Diddi Dance for toddlers at the Memorial Hall on Fridays, and a welcome at the Mothers and Children group at St Mary’s. I feel supported as a young mother.” Doreen was relaxing contentedly on a seat outside Sainsbury’s. “Home Sweet Home? Certainly. Look, I’m getting on a bit and my sons say, ‘Why not sell your house, Mum, and buy a bigger one somewhere, and we could all live together?’ But I don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere! I like being independent. Really, I like being alone. In a nutshell, I like to be here! I can still walk quite a distance, but I don’t have to: I am close to the Tube, the buses, the shops, the doctor, the dentist. It suits me fine.”
Bill was happy to list some of the trips to Europe he enjoys: “On holidays abroad, yes, you feel carefree. New sights and sounds, new people. But after a while, you are pleased to come back to certainty. There’s probably a limit to how much change you can absorb. Returning to the security of home is good. The lady at number 43 lets me help myself from her rosemary bush when I’m slow-cooking lamb. The couple three doors up have a wonderful crop of Victoria plums each year and bags appear on my doorstep.” John emerged from the Post Office and joined the conversation: “For me, South Woodford is home to many cherished memories of arriving in 1970 with four small children. Taking them to the footbridge over the Central Line to coax a toot out of the drivers in response to our frantic waves. And doing the same for my grandchildren in due course.”
Further down the lane, I met Litsa and Elena. Litsa is a Greek Cypriot and Elena is from Romania. Both have made their home in South Woodford. They only arrived about four years ago, but “Everyone seems to know everyone,” they say. Both work at Creative Biscuit and love being busy with young families, having fun with paints and pencils and being, exactly as advertised, creative. Joe was walking his dog, but launched into my topic with enthusiasm. “There are lots of open spaces in South Woodford, the Churchfields playground, the Elmhurst park. There are volunteers giving their time and expertise in planting and tending the public gardens. People stop to talk. I have always felt safe here, even in the dark. In Highview Road, we have our own community WhatsApp system. We can get in touch easily. Perhaps someone needs help. Perhaps just wants to ask if, for example, someone could make use of six small terracotta flowerpots.”
We started this in Glasgow. There’s a huge poster there, greeting you as the train slows down, crossing the Clyde into Central Station. “People make Glasgow,” it reads. Proudly. But that’s just as true of South Woodford, isn’t it, and no doubt of North Acton and East Finchley and West Ruislip. I was really angry with my otherwise absolutely favourite Chambers Dictionary, which referred to suburbs as places “narrow in outlook and without the good qualities of either town or country.” Perhaps we shouldn’t brag too loudly, but we can smile smugly about one fact at least: for us, Epping Forest is just as easily accessible as Charing Cross.
To contact DD with your thoughts or feedback, email dd@swvg.co.uk
