Gone but not Forgotten

Today I discovered that I make things disappear.  All I have to do is set off on a pilgrimage with the sole intention of visiting and POOF! - over at the destination end whatever it is, disappears.  The very thought of a London restaurant or bar or shop from my pre-Canada days appears to activate the self-destruct button the moment I think about it.  It's quite remarkable.  For instance, I decided I needed a pack of Tarot cards.  I learned how to read them in Canada - boredom and desperation drove me to it but then I discovered that I really rather loved reading them;  other people enjoyed having them read and I found the notion of seeing into the future and making sense of the past, strangely comforting.  Anyhoo, my personal pack is in storage along with just about everything useful that I own.

Example: I own some superb kitchen knives yet I chop onions with a butter knife.  I think the phrase is 'lazy-assed'. 

Anyway, Tarot cards.  I set off to a crusty type shop in Neal's Yard that sells crystals, incense and all things Woo Woo only to find that it had 'Gone Fishing'.   It joins a long list of things that have ceased to exist.  Having made the trip to the West End, I thought I might as well have a little walk around.  Casualties included:

• The 'chippie' on Old Compton Street that provided the only solid sustenance to goths, punks and rockers on a Friday night after the Intrepid Fox pub had kicked them (and me & my motley crew) out
• The Hole.  This is a sculpture outside of the Angus Steak House in Leicester Square where said motley crew would meet before jingle jangling into Soho for beer and chips
• The Swiss Centre also in Leicester Square that had a giant working cuckoo clock.  I remember bringing a boyfriend here to show him the wonder of it...yes, you may laugh- he did
• A really good BYO Italian restaurant in Cambridge Circus.  Gone
• CBGBs and The Astoria clubs on Charing Cross Road.  I said WHAT????

I could go on.  Some call it progress but to me it's only progress if it's replaced with something better.  In each case I cannot in all good faith say this has been the case.  So I consoled myself with a little visit to a bookshop on Piccadilly that has been there for eons and has, in the spirit of progress added a fifth floor bar that serves the best chips and view of central London. 

If I squint, I can still see these places just as I remember them.