I was born in the same hospital in which Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin. I apologize in advance that I have not been the same boon to mankind.
There are many places in London that offer a sense of belonging: Camden, Stepney, Hampstead, Brixton, and even Shepherd’s Bush. Paddington is not one of these, unless you are a fictional bear. It is a place for passing through, a mainline station on the Monopoly board.
The location of my first family home, West Kensington, was borrowed from a nearby Underground station. It suggested more gentility than the area deserved. The neighborhood might have been more correctly associated with Olympia and the hall that, in its time, had hosted the Ideal Homes Exhibition. It might also have been the only venue that could accommodate both a rally by the British Union of Fascists and the Crufts dog show, although unfortunately not at the same time.
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