I go there Often, for reasons best kept to myself. (I will not be pressed; don't even think about it.) I therefore feel confident in my ability to assert that the good people of Highgate are, almost without exception*, bellends.
Proof
1. They are in North London (Q.E.D.)
2. They never, ever, EVER say 'thank you' when you let them out in their 4x4s/Volvo Estates/stupid Mercedes. The Good People of Brixton (S. London) are almost as bad drivers as the Good People of Kingsland Road (E. London), but at least they try and acknowledge that you've backed up 15ft to let them past in their Cortina, even if it does involve knocking the wing mirror off someone else's car.
3. Due to Dire Traffic, I stopped athwart (is this a word? No matter), a pedestrian crossing at a set of traffic lights today. And an EIGHT YEAR OLD CHILD walked past my car, crouched down a bit, and shook his head in disbelief. Then he trotted after his mother into an organic food shop. Piss off, little boy. Piss. Off. He no doubt went home, asked Mummy for some delicious home-made humous in an organic wholemeal wrap with extra salad, listened to some Mozart, did his homework BEFORE Blue Peter then let the piano teacher in, whereupon he ran through the Goldberg Variations before (to his mind) earning the right to eat a delicious 'Vegetable Medley' comprising mainly turnips, with a brown rice garnish. I bet he goes to Westminster for Big School.
4. The mothers of girls at Channing Girls' School (known in my time as Channing Dogs' School, but then we were West London** and childish) are, without exception, the worst drivers in the entire world. They also feel that they have the inalienable right to park wherever they want in their 4x4s, even if it is on top of my Micra. They are also apparently unaware of the verb "to indicate". I will indicate that they should put their precious violin-carrying daughters on the bus, rather than wasting my time and the world's with their fuck-awful driving.
Annoyingly (for the benefit of foreign readers), Highgate is one of the more beautiful parts of London: great red-bricked Georgian houses, leafy squares, and easy access to one of our more lovely parks. However, it is also incredibly expensive and as we all know, money does not necessarily mean good sense or, indeed, good manners.
* Exception being my might-as-well-be-my-big-brother friend, Tom.
** North London to West and South London is the same as popping to LA for the weekend if you live in New York. East London is near North London and OK in small patches.
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17 comments:
You paint a lovely picture of that wee smart arse.
I truly, truly hate 4x4s. They're the Dad's belly hanging over the trousers of the car world. You meet one at a junction and 33% of it is already over the white line, with someone called Miranda peering from her "Princess and the pea" seat 10ft up in the air.
Comrade, come the revolution they will all be shot!
I like Highgate. I tried to live there several times. But always ended up in East Finchley (NOT Golders Green - which the estate agents always tried to convince me was in fact Highgate. I maintained my scepticism throughout).
I love the cemetery. Especially in Autumn. And there was a cake shop there, about 10 years ago, in which I wasted many a happy hour putting the universe to rights (to no apparent avail).
However, the traffic is indeed the work of Satan himself. The traffic lights on the high road are clearly designed to induce road rage. And the inhabitants are exactly as you describe them.
And 4x4 drivers are, universally, twats.
*sigh*, Southerners.
Porny Boy will not be happy about this, but I shall have to strip him of recent praise.
You have WON.
Everyone else can give up the writing NOW.
Hoorah for haters of 4x4s. Jude, NB: You Never Lived There. It is so lovely, but so full of twats.
I. Humous-lover.
TD. Oh, TD. Sigh. PBC is a Genius, mind. Oh, and if anyone's reading this, go and read TD. He is fucking Brilliant.
Yours ever,
TD Appreciation Society
Founding member, Secretary and Chairman: Me. Not Like That, mind.
I Never Lived There. But am a bit sad about that.
Where I live now is much the same. But there are more footballers.
Better?
Or worse?
You decide.
I thought there was an old prison at Highgate. Very descriptive NWM! Is Highgate near Kensington? I remember that area was rather lah dee dah until they took out the Whiteleys store in the early 80s. I remember the sumptuous marble curved staircases at Whiteleys-nothing like that in our department stores.
I am a terrible driver. After reading this post, I am thinking of moving. I want to be among friends.
Oh dear
At what point should I reveal that I was born and bred in North East London?
(Not Highgate, though - more like Lowgate)
*waits to be delinked*
(Martina - Highgate is not near Kensington, but it is lah-dee-dah)
NWM - never forget the advice of your Great Aunt Olive, recently deceased at the age of 104, sound of mind and limb (well, until she died, that is):
One should never live North of the Park (of the Hyde variety) or South of the River (Thames).
I should apply that maxim to your car journeys, if I were you, although it might make getting home a little tricky.
Give me Dalston and Clapton any day of the week. Sod all those posh gits with their heads uppest their bums.
But, wait, aren't you a posh git? You certainly speak a bit like one of THEM.
Great Aunt Olive had the right idea, frankly.
Anxious, Jude - you are Forgiven, as not all people in N. London are Awful. It is only a very particular breed of people who live in Highgate.
Kensington lah-dee-dah in a different way to Highgate. Highgate people often fancy themselves as Intellectuals. Kensington people often fancy themselves as Posh. I dare not mention Knightsbridge and Chelsea. Or Dulwich, come to think of it.
I am not Posh, Timbo. And we have never Met, so how do you know?
4x4s. Ugh. I refuse to drive one, and I'm American.
MM, not only did I live south of the River, I lived southwest of the M-25! (By about 100 yds. -- on Cobs Way.) We took the train into London rather than fight the traffic.
But that was 13 years ago...
I do that thing, winding up drivers who have stopped on pedestrian crossings. When the little green man lights up, I stride up to the offending car and - standing at the driver's window, if I can - throw both arms up in the air, gesticulate towards the traffic lights and say in a piercingly loud Middle England accent, as near as cut-glass as I can make it, "You are not supposed to stop on a pedestrian crossing, ever, you need to read your Highway Code" and any other insults that occur to me.
Yes, reactions vary: sometimes the driver gives me the middle finger, sometimes s/he stares stonily ahead, sometimes they make a silly "Sorry" face. But I bet they remember me ...
As to cyclists who ride on the pavement, I shout in their ear as they go past, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE ROAD?"
Indigo, I am HORRIFIED that you should spend your time in this way. I NEVER do that thing on purpose. Also Driving In London is a Terrifying and Unpredictable Affair, as are other drivers in London.
Fair cop about the cyclists though.
I've got to disagree with you about the Channing drivers though. They couldn't be worse than the parents (or nannies) of the Pembridge and Wetherby schools near our old flat. There are certain times of day when it was easier to just walk to Queensway than negotiate the jam of people traffic on the pavement. And you did not risk stepping off the pavement to walk past on the road because you were sure to be hit by a Porsche Cayenne trying to squeeze into the gap between the pavement and a badly parked left-hand drive Volvo with Monaco number plates.
(Oh look, the word verification says "zlofnbuf" - it should be the name of the friendly wizard in a children's book.)
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