Cowley Road

lovin' the cowley road

today i took a proper ramble down the cowley road... mostly in search of cawfee as I had none in the house. but i was glad for it, despite the closed-ness of the shops and of all the cafes that i had intended on popping into. for one, the sun was shining (in Oxford, *gasp!), officially the first full day of sun since May.

And as i came out from the wee foresty path that runs past Oxford Community School, i found an Asian lady, sat on a carpet on the footpath, peddling gourds. Not a familiar sight, even on the Cowley Road, but strangely comforting and with a sense of belonging. As i had no need for a gourd, i didn't stop to comment on her veg, though had i done so, i might have pointed out that she might have been a bit too far off the beaten path to drum up much business. Also, she happened to have placed herself smack dab in between two allotments. Likely that the passers-by in that particular road had gourds of their own. But perhaps not.

From there to the Restore Cafe, not open, but a perfect space for sitting in the prettiness having a cuppa. Then to Baba, not open till five. Further on down the road... Costa. Nah, too typical and chain market for the Cowley Road. G&Ds would be perfect except it's all indoor seating and who could be inside on a day like today?

Past all the murals and the asian shops and the turkish shops and the greek deli. Past the Raja House, past Nandos, past the scary Beauty Lounge where they wax your legs in their front room, past the ethical office building, and the corner bar that's changed names five times since i moved to Oxford. Past Red Star, past the Tescos from hell, past the Age Concern, the Oxfam Shop, Barnardos, and Reign. Past the community centre that might get shut down for not paying the rent. And the churches. And the independent cinema that only ever shows An Inconvenient Truth. Past Marios and Chicken Cottage, past the games shop and VideoSyncratic. Past fifteen bike shops and on down the road that i could navigate with my eyes shut (but probably would get hit by a car, bus, bike, or big issue seller, if not all four at once).

End up in the Kazbar, by the open window, watching the wackos and the tourists go by, drinking two pound espressos, eating free tapas (chick peas and harissa), and reading a book about a man who decided to swim across Britain... what could be better?

Did i mention the sun was shining?

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Indeed, Harissa is not a bean!