Strangers in the night on the N155

Ah, the trusty old N155! My saviour in the dark night when I find myself north of the river past the midnight hours. It's a pleasure to ride and stops conveniently close to home, a mere five to ten minute stroll away through the relative safety of residential Clapham. True enough, it can take up to an hour from Trafalgar Square, but you could always make use of this time to have a friendly chat with the other passengers.

You think I'm taking the piss? No, seriously, I've had some great times on the night bus! One memorable time I was so drunk that I could hardly stand up, but once I was sat down in the bus seat I felt invigorated and I spent the next hour lecturing two of my fellow passengers, two young, unsuspecting Dutch country boys, about the virtues of cycling in London. I don't think I managed to convince them, but I had a great time anyway.

Another time I'd been to a Sunday night clubbing event. It ended quite early, but by the time I'd managed to get myself from Brick Lane down to Trafalgar Square and the N155, it was already past three o'clock. Even Trafalgar Square was quiet then, and I felt a strange sense of solidarity with the handful of people, no doubt also party-goers, who also found themselves on the N155 at this hour. Okay, I was a very drunk when I left the club, but the journey down to Trafalgar Square had sobered me up, and my lengthy heart to heart with this gay German fella was low-key and down to earth and sincere.

Strangers in the night - they could be friends you just don't know yet.

Breakdancing in Brixton

First of all, I have a little confession to make. For all my initial enthusiasm, my plans to learn lindy-hop have now been put on hold for the foreseeable future. It's not that I'm capricious - if it wasn't for the busy schedule of my ballet dancing friend who was supposed to be my partner, I'd be lindy-hopping away every spare minute. But alas, these days my friend only has one evening off a week, and this evening is sorely needed to rest and recover from his many injuries.

Well. What other dance, I thought to myself, could possibly compare to lindy-hop in coolness and impressiveness? Moreover, what dance had these qualities and was also a dance that required no dance partner? The answer is now obvious: Breakdancing!

As it turns out, I've had to trek to Pineapple Studios in Covent Garden to find someone who could teach me this oh-so-cool art. But that doesn't mean that the southside is a stranger to breakdancing. In fact, for years the Brixton Academy has been chosen for the noble purpose of hosting the annual International Bboy Championship. And every summer Clapham Common is the site for the Sprite Urban Games, which has its own b-boying stage both for performances and practice. For those of you who require a more frequent fix, check out Plan B, which hosts regular b-boy throwdowns. The next night will be sometime in February, can't wait!

The tragic demise of Cafe Cairo

Isn’t the end of the year supposed to be an appropriate time for obituaries? Perhaps not, but I’ll serve one up anyway.

Recently, on my way to a house party I walked past Cafe Cairo on Landor Road, a mere stone's throw from the Clapham North tube. To my great distress it was all boarded up, and on the door was a note explaining that in early November Cafe Cairo had been totally wrecked by a fire. Oh no! I had just been thinking that it was about time to pay it another visit, and indeed get it reviewed on Qype, but alas, Cafe Cairo is no more. As the owners explained on the note, Cafe Cairo is unlikely to rise out of the ashes anytime in the near future, because of their difficult financial situation.

The loss of Cafe Cairo is a sad one. Egyptian sheesha-bars don't grow on trees around here, and it was such a wonderfully refreshing alternative to the polished squeaky-clean facade that is Clapham (for the most part at least). The main room could only be reached through a narrow passage, and was small and tent-like, draped with oriental cloth all around (there was a fire, you say?). The seating consisted mainly of small wooden three-legged stools and soft cushions and of various shapes and sizes strewn all over the floor. Here people would sit and contentedly puff on their sheesha pipes. Downstairs was another somewhat larger and more conventional room, with a dance floor and/or stage, hosting various music events, djs or bands, such as free jazz sessions every Thursday.

A sad loss indeed. We can only hope the owners find the funds to reopen!

A Christmas story

Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas? Or are you now poised for the big returning-unwanted-presents rush as soon as shops reopen? I heard this story about a Christmas present mishap that happened about a hundred years ago, and I just can't resist passing it on.

There was a young married couple, a man and a woman. They were poor, but very much in love. It was nearing Christmas, and the woman thought to herself that this year, she really wanted to buy her husband something special. He owned an antique golden watch, passed on from father to son for many generations. But the chain was missing. The woman decided to buy her husband a chain for his heirloom watch. She had very beautiful, thick hair down to her waist, and now she cut it and sold it so that she could buy a chain.

The husband also thought to himself that he really wanted to buy his wife something very special this Christmas. What did he do? He sold his beloved antique golden watch, so he could buy his wife a jeweled hair pin for her beautiful long hair...

The pre-NYE-panic

Ok folks, we are dangerously close to New Year's. Have you finalised your plans for the big night yet? I, of course, have not. Being in this situation brings back memories of a night a few years back, which ought to go down as the saddest, most pathetic new years of all time. I really can’t remember how I came to be in this predicament, but the scenario was this: me and friend, getting drunk on cheap Cava in my living room back in Trondheim. In theory, we could at least have had a great view of all the fireworks from there, but then there was this wild snow storm raging outside. We got drunk very quickly and so didn't even realise we had entered a new year until about an hour after midnight. We had vague plans of going out somewhere but unfortunately I passed out on the sofa. In the meantime, my friend was bent over the toilet bowl puking her guts out, while simultaneously trying to call her parents from her mobile. Well, at least the new year itself stood out as a triumph in comparison to this truly pathetic beginning!

Anyway, I pray I will fare better this year. Would I celebrate new years in Clapham? I'm not sure, to be honest. No venue in particular really stands out as a natural choice - you might want something of a grander scale than what Clapham has to offer. And I'm not about to suggest you should attend the stupid wig party at Inferno’s... I’m also suspicious of the Clapham Grand, with it's seedy semi-striptease shows. There are rumours of a masquerade ball at Lost Society, which would be excellent I’m sure, but their website has no info about it at the moment and I suspect it's sold out a long time ago. There’s a promising-sounding Banana Cabaret or a Gangsters and Molls theme party at the Bedford in Balham, but at 65 or 55 pounds it’s a bit too pricey for me. A cheaper option would be Brixton Jamm, featuring the Bays, Tom Middleton and others, for only 15 quid.

Hmmm. I think I'll just keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best, as is my style...

Clapham is gay

I found myself wondering one day what the gay scene in Clapham might be like. Is Clapham gay? For some reason I expected Clapham to be straight as a ruler - but as it turns out, two of the best gay bars south of the river are right on the Clapham High street, Kazbar and the Two Brewers. Behind the modest and unassuming facade of Two Brewers, the only eye-catching decoration being a poster advertising a 2 for 1 lunch deal, you'll find a real cabaret club with drag shows and other happenings on most evenings of the week. The Kazbar is more of a standard bar, but pretty good at that from what I've heard.

The Brixton gay scene is perhaps a little more disappointing (a friend of mine described it as 'a bit dead'). There is Substation, a gay nightclub. Then the Fridge does one-off gay nights every now and then. And last, but not least, SW9 is a charming, fun and quirky cafe/bar.

What's the upshot? Clapham is gayer than Brixton.

Show me the way to the next whisky... off licence

As much as I love to sleep, I am actually a very bad sleeper. Every now and then I go through bouts of insomnia; I just can’t sleep, no matter what I do or don’t do. It can be very frustrating, let me tell you. But recently, I have taken to drinking large glasses of whiskey in my bed to try and knock myself out. It works wonders - it's nothing short of a miracle cure! Well, of course, like many treatments this one too has some unwanted side effects. And I'm not sure whether the half empty whisky bottle on my night table should make me feel really hard core, or maybe rather indicates that I have some sort of alcohol problem. Hmmm...

In any case, the increase in my whisky consumption has forced me to abandon my previous strategy of stocking up on tax free spirits whenever I go home, and instead locate the more upmarket off licences in Clapham. You'll do alright, actually, going to either the big Sainsbury on the High Street, or the Tesco opposite Clapham South tube, which both have a decent selection of whisky. But Clapham has more to offer than that. Here are my top three whisky specialists in Clapham (yes, they are all wine specialists more than anything else, but they also stock whiskys):

1. Wines of the World. With an impressive selection of around 20 different Scotch single malts, they emerge as the clear winner. But they only do Scotch, mind you.

2. Nicolas. Quality stuff.

3. Majestic. They have a broad range of whiskys, but nothing unusual. But at least they stock my current favourite, Dalwhinnie!

So, what are you waiting for?!