by Roz
If the stats counter on this website is anything to go by, all the gays in Camberwell should be brushing up on their Scandinavian languages. We have, it seems, fans in Sweden and Finland. To which I have to say: “endast varför?”
This is an unfortunate development since I’ve just enrolled on a year long evening French course. Whilst a return to student-dom (even of the part-time variety) isn’t proving that much fun, the bite is taken off by the prospect of sitting in House and drinking fresh mint tea whilst consulting verb tables. Which is exactly how I spent Saturday morning. This virtue didn’t last all that long and the rest of the day disappeared in a whirl of boxing and shopping.
Sadly there are no Scandinavian restaurants in Camberwell (this will presumably be remedied by the imminent influx of Swedish gays). We are, however, well provided for with Asian restaurants. Our friends, two designers who live on the top floor of our block of flats, consulted gaycamberwell.com (naturally) and suggested the Wishing Well. I queried why there rather than Su-Thai (which we think has even better food). They claimed an enthusiasm for seeing how the venue works in the evening, but I suspect that they were deterred by the fact that Su-Thai is almost always empty. But this is a vicious circle… Still the Wishing Well was bustling – with (affectionate) gay couples in the majority. We considered. We discussed. And then, when we our friends designated the (obviously gay) waiter as cute, the way forward was clear: the Wishing Well’s gay friendliness rating needed to be raised.
From there, we went on to the Castle for some wine, some dancing and a sneak upstairs to see the function room (where the launch party will be). Whilst dancing enthusiastically with Layla, I heard a voice saying: “look, it’s Rosalind”. I turned to see someone I went to school (in Kent) with. I’d seen her for the first time in more than ten years only two weeks before (she’s now moved to Peckham). At my convent school (how predictable!) I was almost uninterruptedly miserable and I think my former school mate was more surprised to see that I have lost my habit of weeping every five minutes than to find I was a lesbian. But then I was more than disconcerted to find myself called Rosalind – a name I’m never called now. Changing your name must be a lesbian thing - pretty much every lesbian I know has abbreviated their name to a one syllable word… Which is just as well, since spelling Scandinavian names is not going to be easy…
Sunday day must be glossed over, not least because I betrayed the cause and spent it in Islington with a north London friend. Though it’s worth mentioning that if you are wanting brunch on a Sunday in that part of the world, booking is seemingly – and annoyingly – essential.
On Sunday evening Layla and I went to Kennington to hear an a cappella group. They emailed us earlier in the week to volunteer to perform at the launch party – knowing nothing about a capella, and my email correspondent having described the group as being “mainly gay and mainly living in the Camberwell area”, we couldn’t resist. And they were fantastic. The guy who emailed me looks like a teddy-bear and was extremely sweet. Such was our enthusiasm that they found themselves agreeing to sing a brief “gay Camberwell” chorus too. (Bet they regret that now.)
So it is clear that our Scandinavian visitors (since it is to be presumed that they will be heading to SE5 in time for the launch month) will be very well-entertained. By a quirk of fate I shall be meeting the Finnish Justice minister at lunchtime today. It will be a struggle not to comment on her electorate’s enthusiasm for gaycamberwell.com. But perhaps I shouldn’t restrain myself: after all, sponsorship for some drinks at the launch party would be very pleasant…
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