25 Years Online
••• The International Writers Magazine - A Walk in Chelsea

Nostalgia • Sam North Retracing forgotten haunts

Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be as Yogi Berra used to say (also Simone Signoret).
I’m walking up the Fulham Road from Fulham Palace (buses on diversion). Fulham Palace is still tatty but friendly at least. Had a good coffee at the flower shop on the corner of Jerdan Place (opposite Café Nero) as the owner sat next to me fashioning a wreath. As no buses, I continued walking up past the football ground (much expanded) and sadly discovered the Odeon is no more.

I used to come to the Society of Author’s around the corner (now moved on) and Parson’s was my regular haunt – once one of the few trendy places to eat in Chelsea. It was always fun to go there and see who else was there.

There was Valerie the hat maker, who had Christopher Reeves (Superman) as a neighbour, there was the New Yorker script reader Lisa, who lived in the famous Brompton Mews and nearby a wonderful bookshop now an auction house come restaurant. It was a social hub in the 70's. Sure inflation was around 25% but we were all optimists and survivors and besides I got lucky and escaped to New York.

All this has passed into history (as has the free parking).  I headed down a side street to the King’s Road and noted the Bluebird was busy at least with diners hidden behind an enormous bank of summer flowers. I didn’t check to see if they were real as didn’t want to be disappointed.

The King’s Road is much quieter in August; all of Chelsea is on the Med or at their villas in France or Spain.  My nephew complains of 42c heat in Italy and my other nephew complains about 35c in Greece at their summer shack by the sea. I am wearing a light summer sweater of course, it is a mild 22c and you never know if it might rain. Thanks to climate change Europe is becoming uninhabitable in July and August and a danger to vineyards and crops of all kinds.
        
I’m writing this in Love my Human, a dog friendly café. I think there are seven dogs in here, one is dining on what looks like a chicken claw at my feet. The owner is on her second meal as I scribble away, and yes she is a mere size 8 in case you were imagining something larger. It’s Chelsea, obese is verboten.
           
It’s funny to be here at all. In my 20’s I practically lived here. I had a novel published in ’79. (209 Thriller Road  - set on the Fulham Road in a little shop opposite Parson's). There was talk of movie rights but the contract was one page longer than the novel!  Luckily the book sold to New York publishers. I must have thought fame and fortune would follow. Silly me.  Had I been sensible I should have put the advance down on a flat, but no one offered mortgages to writers back then and probably still don’t.  I should have gone into teaching and not waited another ten years before accepting that reality. No one could ever accuse me of being sensible, especially with money, besides the British economy was in meltdown, the unions out of control and Labour was hanging on to power. Thatcher was not yet in Number 10. Gosh seems we’re headed down that road again in 2025.

Old Kings Road Cinema

New Gaumont Cinema

The lovely Chelsea cinemas are all gone – there is a tiny Everyman theatre opposite the dog café and the Gaumont (196-222 King’s Road) is threatening to open next year next to Waitrose. Used to love going to the old cinema there before they demolished it. It had a huge screen and great sound showing lots of European movies. It was an occasion to be there. Bought all my furniture from Habitat next block down.

Back in the 70’s it was rare to find coffee shops in London. There was always Picasso’s (owned by Dino’s who I think still have a place in South Ken). Gen Z probably think coffee shops always existed in London but it was a struggle to find anything open for coffee in the evenings. The Stockpot was great for a cheap fresh cooked meal however (Chelsea Kitchen on the Kings Road).

I’m still walking, reflecting on how we didn’t have the pressure to be always on and available before smart phones. Finding a phone box was a struggle, and if you wanted to call overseas you had to go the post office opposite the National Portrait gallery and book a call. There was one other P.O. on Victoria Street before you got to Dean’s Yard.  And as for buying a bargain air ticket – it was all secretive and you’d have to discretely meet someone down by Victoria Bus Station and pay cash. 
           
I end my walk up by Sloane Square and the sad relic that is Peter Jones.  Used to love meeting friends for coffee at the top with views over Chelsea. A massive disappointment these days. On the plus side there are lots of places to eat and shop and drink all around the Saatchi Gallery. Children were splashing in the water fountains as I arrived there.
           
Maybe the shops seem drab or dull because the streets are empty. Perhaps it is simply seeing it all with old eyes now. You probably won’t see a famous face or supermodel trot down this road on ten-inch heels anymore. The moment passed.
           
You can never go back, mostly because you can never to be 20 again.  You are no longer you, filled with hopes and dreams. If they haven’t come true by the time you are old, just roll with it – they were only ever dreams right? Enjoy remembering whilst you still can.

© Sam North September 2024 – author of Magenta and Another Place to Die: Endtime Chronicles
Editor

More life moments

Share |