On Spitalfields

When I moved to London eight and a half years ago, it was to start work at a dotcom/consultancy called Oven Digital, based in the old Truman Brewery at Brick Lane. The first time I visited was in late January, and as I walked from the Norwich train out of Liverpool Street there was a clear point where you passed from the City, which clung to Bishopsgate, into a completely different area.

Unlike the glass and steel, it wasn't incredibly well lit, except for Christ Church, spotlit at the end of Brushfield Street. Instead, the low  brick buildings on either side concealed a ragtag collection of shops and restaurants, all of which felt like they had a history. The Brewery itself was quiet, off the beaten track, and surprisingly insecure - it was pretty easy to wander around huge parts of the buildings, even when you weren't really meant to. There were vague rumblings about Spitalfields being under threat, but I didn't really bear it much mind. Development happens, right?

Unfortunately, Oven ran into the typical financial difficulties of a dotcom circa 2001, and the London office closed. As I'm not a great follower of fashion, my trips back to the market and Brick Lane have been infrequent and fleeting, so when the employers finally moved into their new office at the beginning of the month, I got to rediscover the area anew, after over seven years.

What have those years wrought? Well, everything is so much more... middle class now. Sure, it's a bohemian middle class, a trendy one, but nonetheless, there's a distinctly different crowd there these days. Of course, where the City's bled east, demolishing half of the old market buildings, that's even more obvious; the business suits give it away.  It's also busy; incredibly busy, most days, whereas it used to be that Saturdays were deserted and Sundays the only time it was hard to find space.

More than the people, though, the spaces have changed. As I've said, half the market's gone, although the shell of it around the edges has been retained. The businesses there haven't, though; the family-run pizzerias replaced by SF-based chain makeup stores and expensive Soho bakeries. The worst, though, is that even inside the old market, the character has been almost entirely sterilised away. Bubba's BBQ, which had both supporters and detractors, is gone; Square Pie survived, though. So much for those "free-thinking independents", although I must admit a few (who can, somehow, afford the rent) are holding on. Even the stalwart caff I went to back then, Rosa's, is gone. At least Rossi hangs on, providing a reasonably-priced fry-up.

I think the best single example of this is the Spitz, which moved into the market in 1996, when nobody even heard of it, and which was forced out in 2007 as the final redevelopment of the "saved" market was completed. It's due to be replaced by The Luxe, run by the chef who heads up Smiths of Smithfield. It's hardly going to be the same, is it?

In fact, that's a pretty good epitaph for the entire area. Sure, there's still a Sunday market, and there are retro clothes to be had. The market traders do their best in the scrubbed interior of the retained buildings. To me, though, it'll always be a pale remnant of the place I found when I moved to the city, and the fact it's far from alone - just ask someone who liked the South Bank before the chains moved in - doesn't make it any easier to bear.