Gay Camberwell

By Layla

Last night I met up with my ex-flatmate. Both of us have now left Peckham for the bright lights of SE5, though she has opted for the Loughborough Junction end. Which was a good excuse to pop into the Cambria for dinner. I hadn't been for a while, but the vibe is still as good as ever and I envy my ex-flatmate's proximity to its delights. Though she wasn't impressed with her steak, my winter vegetable, thyme and feta pie lived up the the Cambria's usually very high standards of food, and we had a cosy meal amidst Christmas trees and festive decorations. I do like Christmas decorations. Christmas in itself doesn't excite me much, but string up a bit of tinsel and a twinkly light, and I'm already feeling festive. Camberwell's attempts at Christmas lighting this year have struggled to warm even this very susceptible heart though: bits of tinsel wrapped around the lamposts near Camberwell Green, boasting about 3 fairy lights apiece, does not an adequate yuletide decoration make, Southwark Council! When I worked down in Beckenham I used to take the 176 to Penge and pass through all the little areas of that part of south east London: Forest Hill, Anerly, Sydenham, etc. For each new area, there was a special themed display, with each area clearly trying to out-class the other on the festive decor front. It's a shame Camberwell does not feel moved to join the contest. On my cycle to Waterloo, by the back street route via Portland Road the other day, I saw that someone on Portland Road just past Albany Street has taken matters into their own hands: Santa's sleigh is being pulled across the council estate with an absolute explosion of flashing lights and festive cheer, each window adorned with a twinkling display and the garden and surrounding area all part of the fun. It may be environmentally unfriendly, and a tad American (this type of display was the norm when I once lived for a year in Minnesota) but I say hooray for the family who have rebelled against the scrappy tinselly nonsense deemed all that SE5 deserves.

But back to last night. Having polished off my Cambria pie, we walked around the corner to the Red Gate Gallery, who were having a private view of This is Maroc, a photographic exhibition exploring Morocco's burgeoning hip hop scene. The photos did not dazzle especially, but I continue to love the Red Gate Gallery for their completely incongruously lovely gallery tucked under the railway bridge, and we sipped mulled wine amongst the arty crowd of Loughborough Junction and beyond, while gazing at photos of blinged-up teenagers standing in the Marrakesh medina. The Red Gate Gallery has a private view ewith cheap bar pretty much every Friday - a brilliant hidden delight. And the amount of fairy lights they have in their courtyard outnumber those that Southwark Council has scraped together for Camberwell's lamposts.