Part 49 Walk On By

The A-Z, a Kenwood mixer and Primrose Hill.

If you put a Like at the end of this it means that the system will show it to more people and that will bring light, laughter and happiness to the world.

Hiya, welcome back dear readers. Right, that’s enough of that, on we go.

Just a quick reminder, an agent had give us a valuation on the restaurant and Bud wasn’t sure if he should eat Quorn or corn.

Just before we left the restaurant on Saturday night, Cak Boy had his giant sandwich and we had a question for Tricky Vicki.

“Hey Tricky, where’s the best car boot sale in York?”

“Oh I love a car boot sale me. There’s a good one at Rufforth, just outside of the ring road.”

“Cheers Tricky, we’ll have a look tomorrow.”

So the next morning, Sunday, we got up early, did all the boring paperwork for the restaurant, then headed for the car boot. We loved car boot sales, still do, we even hunt them out here in Spain.

Maybe we just like buying cheap stuff!

Anyway, we went to the car boot sale, for no particular reason, just for something to do. But fortunately, we found a bargain. A Kenwood stand mixer, it was only a tenner, these things can cost hundreds when new. The only problem was the colour, it was orange and brown, like a 1970s fireside rug. It looked odd, but hey, it was a tenner.

Donna spotted something else interesting, an A-Z of London. It was an omen, a sign. And it was only ten bob, or fifty pence to you.

Hang on, some of our younger readers won’t know what an A-Z is. Basically, at one time, there was a mini map book of every town and city in the country. So if you were going to a city and you needed to know your way around, you bought an A-Z, and this little book had all the streets drawn out for you. Similar to Google maps, but on paper.

And just to give you an idea of what a map looked like, there was a little sample picture on the front cover, always.

We couldn’t decide if we should buy it, we hadn’t decided if we were actually going relocate to London, so if we bought it, that was fifty pence wasted. But we were risk takers, anarchists, we were wild, so we bought it.

“Donna, we’ll have to move to London now, we’ve bought the A-Z.”

Remember this A-Z, it plays a freaky role in the future.

Anyway, we took the Kenwood mixer to work the next week, it was bloody heavy. But you know what, it worked perfectly, looked a bit strange, but it could whip up a meringue quicker than you could say “Where’s the tile cutter?”

Not our actual machine, but it was the same as this. Piccy from Pineapple Retro.

Briggy loved it, she said it looked retro, but retro wasn’t a thing then, so it couldn’t have been.

Briggy liked the mixer so much that she wanted to give it a name.

“Briggy, no. We’re not naming kitchen appliances.”

She probably named it anyway but didn’t tell anyone.

That machine lasted for years. Towards the end if its life it would still run, but a burning smell drifted from the motor. Never had the heart to throw it in the bin, so it went to the back of one of those cupboards which we all have.

OK, the London thing was still in our minds. The commercial agent had given us a valuation of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds for our little restaurant in York. Initially, we were quite giddy about this.

However, as we mulled it over, and because we’d been in this situation before, the amount gradually decreased as we started to work out the costs involved.

The agent would want his cut for selling the place, that Mercedes must have cost a pretty penny to run. Then there was the price of the lease on the next restaurant. Oh yea, and the landlord would want a bond, you know, a deposit. A bond could be up to six months of the rent, they take that in case you smash the place up and run away. And the rent, they take that three months in advance, depending when in the year that you take the place. And solicitors fees, this time it would be for selling as well as buying.

Why is everything so difficult? Answers at the end of this Post please.

We calculated, roughly, that after all of that, we would have about thirty to forty thousand quid left to decorate the place and pay for some stock. But that was OK, because after that had been spent we would be open and trading. The money would be coming in which we could use to live on.

And don’t forget, London restaurants are always busy, they make a fortune.

When we looked at the pamphlets form the London agents, we could see that those which were empty, you know, the owners had given up and left. Those properties were known as something called Nil Premium. That meant that you weren't paying anyone for the lease, you weren't giving Tony Cannelloni a small fortune for his Italian restaurant. You just needed to pay the bond and some rent.

We wanted one of those. We wanted a bargain.

But there was a problem. We didn't know where they were. Obviously they were in London, but if you’re not from London, those unknown locations mean nothing.

Here’s an example, there’s two houses for sale in Middlesbrough. Do you buy the one in Lanchester Road in Grangetown, or the one in Grange Crescent in Marton? Well, if you’ve never been to Middlesbrough, and you live in Bristol, then you’d have to actually go and have a look for yourself. OK you could do a quick Google search, but the internet wasn’t that strong twenty years ago.

So that’s what we did, no we didn't go to Middlesbrough, we went to London for a mooch around. And we would drive there, save train fare. We were close Sunday and Monday, so we could drive down on the Sunday morning. Donna could do the paperwork in the car while I drove, we could stay at a cheap Travelodge, then drive back on Monday afternoon. Easy!

We could take the details of the cheap restaurants with us and have little look at their location, not actually view them, just look at where they were.

Oh, and what about other restaurants, where was Gordon Ramsays’ restaurant? Was it on the high street, or was it tucked away in a side street? Probably on a big main street with fireworks going off around it. Anyway, we could have a look at other well known restaurants and get an idea of where they chose to be.

This is probably called research. And we needed to do it before we committed to moving to London.

A quick search told us that London was only a four hour drive from York. So the next Sunday we made some sandwiches and stuck them in the car with a bottle of pop. Donna had the paperwork wrapped up in carrier bag and a rough list of directions to follow so we could get to London. She could do directions to the Travelodge at Docklands, the cheap one with parking, and she could do the weeks takings also. Plus, we had our fifty pence A-Z.

We ate the sandwiches within the first hour and London isn’t a four hour drive from York.

We arrived just before lunchtime and immediately set off to our first destination, Primrose Hill. But first of all we needed to know how to get there. So we asked this lad at the reception of the Travelodge. He told us it would take about an hour and a half. He must have been wrong, it couldn't take that long.

He wasn't wrong, it took ages, but we managed to get there and we used out tatty A-Z to find the street. The restaurant was on place called Chalcot Road, no idea how we remembered that. And there it was on a corner, it looked small, but the details from the agent suggested it was bigger on the inside.

So we walked by the side of the restaurant and carefully peered in, we didn't want to look like weirdos.

If you’ve never been to Primrose Hill in London, a brief explanation. It’s at the northern end of Regents Park, it’s fairly leafy and some rich people live there.

It feels a bit Londonish, but it’s a suburb, and it feels that way.

Straight away, as we walked up to it, we knew it wasn’t for us. I knew a couple form the north east who ran a golf club, they gave some very good advice. And the advice was, never become the local place, because eventually the locals will own you. What they meant is that you become beholding to the local community, if you upset anyone, you could easily lose a customer base.

Now, wether this is true or not, we don’t know, but the thought of that problem didn't appeal.

So next on the list was a place in Tufnell Park, this was even further north, which seemed outside of London to us. It wasn’t, it just felt it to two people who had only ever been tourists. We didn't like the look of this restaurant either, it was big, but it needed a lot of work doing, our budget wouldn't stand that. Plus, the area just didn’t feel right for us.

Luckily it was a Sunday and these places were closed, so the owners couldn't see us staring inside and pointing at them.

But anyway, we were just looking around, just testing the water and asking the question, could we afford a site in London. So far, it was yes.

We looked at one more place, we wanted to look at more, but travelling around London wasn't like travelling around York. It took so long, we were starting to realise how huge London was.

The next place was a few streets behind Oxford Street, yes Oxford Street. We were excited about this. This was central London.

Actually, where is central London? Is it Oxford Circus, Buckingham Place, The Tower of London or is it Covent Garden? Answers at the end of this Post please.

Now, this place was a basement restaurant, so all we could see were some steps and a sign. But that didn’t put us off, it was a restaurant in that there London, and it could be possible for us to be doing it some time soon.

We were knackered by now, we’d got up early after a million hours at work, driven from York, then travelled around London as soon as we arrived. So now it was back to the Travelodge for a bed picnic, a few drinks and some rest.

If you would like to buy us a three squid coffee for writing this, that’s the button.

The next day we were up early again. We wanted to have a quick look at Gordon Ramsey’s restaurant and another place called Hakkasan. This may sound odd now, but back then these places were the talk of the town. Gordon’s swearing actually upset people in those days.

We had heard that these restaurants were off the beaten track, so we wanted to get an idea of how far Londoners would travel for a restaurant.

Well, Gordon’s place was not what we expected at all. To us, we thought there would be a huge sign in lights above the front door, ‘Gordon Is Here’, and trumpets trumping and unicorns prancing across the a gravel driveway.

But no, towards the end of a long road there was a Tesco Express, Gordon deffo ran in there when he ran out of spuds, and a few doors down was Gordon’s place. An unassuming brick building with a few plants outside and a little metal plaque to one side which let you know that this is where he hung about, sometimes.

Gordon’s place, no unicorns. Piccy from the foodie family blog.

And Hakkasan, a Michelin starred Chinese restaurant which was at the end of Oxford Street. Currently, there is a large Primark next to Tottenham Court Station, but back then, that end of Oxford Street was rough. There were some derelict buildings on the front and behind them were some narrow back streets where the rats lived.

These little streets were even difficult to find on the A-Z, we would have to go in blind.

Donna and I ventured through these streets, “Donna, do you have your flick knife?”

“No I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I forgot to bring it.”

And after a couple of lefts and rights, there was a doorway, and this had a little metal plaque also. You couldn't even see this restaurant, just some stairs which led down to a basement. We were surprised and confused, but also pleased. It confirmed that you didn't have to be in the middle of Bond Street to make a restaurant work.

Hakkasan. Just a doorway. Actually, it’s not open anymore, shame, it was good. Piccy from Tiffiny Yang.

We left the grimy, chewing gum clad streets and made our way back to our car at the Travelodge. Hopefully they hadn't charged us for parking, we should have left earlier in the morning.

We arrived, they hadn’t charged us, probably would now, and we drove back to York.

That trip gave us some valuable information, it also answered the question we kept asking, ‘Could we afford to open a restaurant in London.’.

Right, join us next week to see what happens next.

Be good and thanks for reading.

Donna and Andrew