Jessica Cargill Thompson, steadfast South Londoner,
discovers Crouch End, N8
Despite being a South London evangelist, I will concede that there’s one thing North has over South: the Tube. Crouch End, however, doesn’t. Typical! A succession of different forms of transport eventually spits me out at The Broadway, which is buzzing. I check out the pleasantly chaotic Prospero’s Books, and in Coffee Cake I see a display of cakes so beautiful that I’m almost moved to tears. Later, Comedy Downstairs at the King’s Head – said to be ‘London’s oldest comedy room’ – is a treat. By Sunday afternoon I’m getting twitchy. I’m about to fall off the top of my mini A-Z, and it unnerves me. I yearn for the underlying edginess of Peckham borders and the chip South Londoners bear on their collective shoulder. I tell friends I’m writing about why South is better than North. ‘Three words,’ they say. ‘Cos. It. Is.’