Our day began with an 8am train to London Marylebone on Friday the 1st of November. We made our way from the station and onto the tube, which took us to Leicester Square where we had discovered a cool American style eatery called ‘The Diner’ on our last visit. Exploring the area, we found ourselves in Soho, a trendy area filled with quirky and unique shops around every corner. I have always thought that London has a fascinating energy, nowhere else I have ever been feels quite like it. I love getting lost there, discovering old cobbled streets and buildings that have seen the new flashy London grow and thrive around them so that the contrast amazes you. The place is filled with people who we describe simply as “hipsters”, some consciously trying to be ‘different’ and thus ending up clones of each other, (big beard, t-shirts with rolled up sleeves, trousers deliberately bought a few inches too short with socks and preferably a pair of basic Doc Martens) and some just un-intentionally odd. (We walked past a lady who, on being flown at by a confused bird, exclaimed “UGH Pigeon of Doom!”) Don’t get me wrong, i’d much rather be one of these interesting characters than a bland city-dweller who you wouldn’t glance twice at as they passed you in the street, but sometimes the expression of blatant superiority (or dis-interest?) they wear whilst hanging out in their beloved vintage shops can annoy me. BUT, hey ho, on we went, passing the gorgeous Libertys of London, where I stared with envious eyes at the worker in the Libertys Florist as she laid out buckets of incredible flowers, until we found another branch of our favourite Diner and settled down for one of their epic breakfasts.
We carried on along the tube to Liverpool Street, and in search of our hotel. It’s always one of the most exciting parts of any trip to me, it feels a little like a luxury as I won’t stay anywhere that has less than 4 stars. I hate the thought of staying somewhere boring and travel-lodgey, so I search for hours on end for somewhere with some character. I found it in Fraser Residence, Bishopsgate. I chose it because it is right in the heart of Spitalfields, and amongst some of the streets and thoroughfares that Jack would have stalked. I wanted to see it at night to experience the atmosphere of Victorian London and to try and take a step back in time to the dangerous streets of Whitechapel. We were informed on arrival that we had been upgraded to a 2 room apartment, and I was so pleased. We were situated overlooking a busy street, but couldn’t hear a thing. The entrance to the hotel was also right next door to another bar and restaurant I was keen to try, The Breakfast Club.
We ventured out just before dark to get our bearings and locate Gunthorpe Street where Martha Tabram was murdered. We thought it best to do this in the daylight, as from the pictures i’d seen, it looked a little on the dodgy side. It was much the same as the photographs from the time, with the addition of modern buildings surrounding it. It was easy to see how this would have been a dangerous place with lots of dark alleys and thoroughfares like a maze.
Many of the buildings look just how they would have 100 years or so ago, making the atmosphere all the more haunting.
We decided to go for a drink at Jacks pub, The Ten Bells where he may have spotted his 5th victim Mary Kelly who worked there as a barmaid, walking past the imposing Christchurch which dominates the skyline. I imagined it at the time, dark and dreary, looking over your shoulder to see if you were being watched as you left… The Breakfast Club was a welcome change from the intimidating streets outside. The staff were preparing for a Halloween party and had dressed up for the occasion. Even so, we were welcomed in and ordered drinks. I love the atmosphere in these places, though I wish there was something like this in Birmingham. I suppose even if there was, it wouldn’t feel quite the same, London does this kind of thing to perfection. The fridge was actually a door! My burger topped with cheese and pulled pork (i’m drooling just remembering it) was amazing. The Margarita I washed it down with was also pretty good, giving me that warm and slightly numb feeling only a good liquor can. After our meal, we left the cool kids to their spooky party (which I really wish I could have attended) and fuelled by a wee dram of booze we decided to see the London sights by night and get good use of our tube passes. We headed first to Big Ben, the houses of parliament and the London eye, followed by the Tower of London and Tower Bridge. I would say I much prefer these famous landmarks in the dark. Even though there were still masses of tourists swarming around, it wasn’t quite as manic as it would be in the day. I’d love to go right in the dead of night.
Making our way back to Aldridge East tube station, (having first got off at the wrong one, but that is the glory of the tube, you can just jump back on another!) we walked back past Gunthorpe Street and towards the hotel. A man stopped us on the way explaining that he usually gives tourists directions or advice in return for any change they can give in order for him to pay for a night in a local hostel. This really hit home to me after learning about the conditions people lived in back in 1888, and how although so much has changed, there are still people desperately begging for money in order to claim a bed for a night. Unfortunately we had left bags and money at the hotel in order to travel light, and therefore had nothing we could give him. I was glad to see he had already made £10, and he said he only needed four quid more. One of the most atmospheric alleys we saw was just along from our hotel, called Artillery Passage. Walking through we glimpsed a little of what the area would have been like in the Rippers days, with loud drunken blokes shouting and stumbling out of pubs, the sound of breaking glass and bursts of laughter. Men urinating in dark alleyways. The sound of ladies heels as they stumbled along to the next bar, some women even walked alone perhaps to meet friends, not knowing if anyone was following silently behind… how many dark alleyways to be dragged into…It scared me, how easy it would have been to prey on these women, despite the crowds in nearby pubs and littering the street. How many witnesses turned a blind eye? I was glad to have my man by my side, even 125 years after the ‘Autumn of Terror’. How morbid!