Pick yourself up

Day 68: 1 clementine, passion fruit yogurt with fresh banana, psyllium husks, seeds, honey; lamb lettuce, lettuce, ham, schiacciata, brussel sprouts with cheddar; some chocolate digestives; schiacchiata with ham and cheese; whisky.

I thought there was nothing more depressing than Sundays. But I was mistaken. There’s something more depressing than Sundays. And that’s Alperton. And if you spend your Sunday in Alperton, as I did, then you’re in for a pretty happy day. Alperton is a shithole. And I’m sorry for the people who live here. But it is. It’s not open to debate. In Alperton there’s a Sainsbury’s, a Chinese cash & carry, a massive Hindu temple, several shops selling Indian saris. And then vast stretches of urban, desolated land covered by storage buildings, factories, dilapidated dwellings and some miserable people, including myself. Who bought this little blue stick to pick up shit in a bid to pick herself up (and because I broke the other two sticks I had). It was the best activity I could think of – going to buy this flimsy, blue stick which will likely break again – after eating a whole Ritter sport dark chocolate bar in one go while washing and tumble drying my clothes in an Alperton laundrette.

I think I may have been a bit too harsh with Alperton. I actually don’t mind the Indian bit, which is basically a road that leads to Wembley. It’s really quite authentically Indian. And people were quite happy today. Of course. Because people generally like Sundays. I don’t know how, but they do. Good for them. Still though. Alperton, not the best place. And certainly not the best for a Sunday stroll. They sell great, flimsy sticks though.


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