Soho & Tottenham Court Thursday 13 May 2010

After wandering through Chinatown for just a little while, I managed to find my way into other parts of Soho. I hadn't really wanted to go to Soho, in particular, as it's well known for its strip clubs and sex shops, sleazy bars and down-n-outers. But, hey, I could either go back to the same Tube stop I came in on, or make my way through Soho to Tottenham Court. Which is what I did. 

Interestingly enough, Soho was filled not only with licensed sex shops, but also with a few cool boutiques and many upscale French restaurants. So again, just like in San Francisco, the French section of the city is next to the Chinese, which is next to the Italian. 

Boutiques and French Restaurants in Soho

I even saw a few restaurants that at first glance seemed like they might be North African (Moroccan or Algerian or Tunisian) but turned out mostly to be Lebanese or Middle Eastern. Cool looking, though. Might have to go back and try out one or two of them. But maybe not at night.

North African-named Restaurant (with Mideastern Food)

I really couldn't get over how diverse Soho is. I mean, really cheap pizza places where the hookers eat, crappy apartments above where the transvestites live, and super high class French restaurants next to chic little boutiques with expensive clothes that would only fit  someone under 95 lbs.


I made my way back to Tottenham Court Rd and found the Tube station. It must be the oldest Tube station in all of London. Unlike the sleek, modern, hangar-like buildings of Victoria and Kensington, Tottenham Court Rd was a low-ceilinged warren of tunnels. No tile on the walls--no walls, really, just exposed pipes and electrical conduits--and suddenly I was looking down a narrow, winding, circular staircase. No escalators here. That place was scary. It just kept going down, down, down. I was really wondering if I'd come down into a workman's tunnel or something by mistake. 

 Tottenham Court Rd. Tube Station

Round and round, down and down, steel on one side, wire on the other. Yegads, I was glad to get to the platform, as ugly and unkempt as it was. Back at Victoria Station, I happily rode the escalators up to my Victoria line train, and then home to Pimlico, where all the sleaziness of Soho & Tottenham Court were able to fade into memory. Tomorrow I'm going somewhere nicer.

Tonight, I'm going to see The Real Thing! {next post}