Apr 22, 20236 min read

A Noon in Kingston

Kingston-upon-Thames is a London Royal Borough near to River Thames and Hampton Court Palace.

After emerging out of the station, I followed the crowd who were advancing to the marketplace. Kingston itself had a distinctive identity from the other London Borough areas, like New Malden or Twickenham. The town had a more South London vibe. Creative traces could be found around Kingston, like a row of red telephone boxes tumbling down like dominoes, the chimps flexing weird poses in unexpected location, and a goat carrying a traffic cone on its back.

Kingston’s Historical Marketplace

The triangular ancient marketplace in Kingston has been a popular commerce centre since 12th-century. The borough had preserved the liveliness of this market town with various food festivals, food and fresh produce vendors, and buskers’ live performance. Even some of the shops retained the Tudor-period architecture.

Entering from the intersection between Eden and High Street, the first thing that caught my attention was a white marble statue of an elegant woman carrying an urn on her shoulder, and she was holding her son’s hand while he scooped water with a spade. Half of the woman’s face had eroded, so I could not distinguish her facial features.

A little ahead was an Italian-styled Market House with ornate features and round, arched windows. On the balcony stood a golden Queen Anne statue, looking down to the townsfolk in her regal gown and crown. For a moment, I had mistaken as Queen Victoria. (I’m terribly sorry, Anne. Vicky is everywhere, and both of you have an equally plump figure.) The market house was once a scene for political and economic conventions in the 19th-century. Fast forward to the year 2023, this building served as an art market full of fan-made anime prints, adorable stickers, watercolour postcards, and crocheted animals. It brought me back to Hin Bus Depot arts and craft market with my friends before I set off to the UK. There was a table for young visitors to create their bookmark based on the theme of the day: chimpanzees. The best artworks would be displayed on a mini board next to the craft table.

As I explored up and down the shelves, I found adorable cat stickers showing weird expressions. My mind reached for my friend, Greta, who adored feline friends. I picked an ugly cat sticker as a gift to her, before she set off to France for the Summer.

“Can I know more about this art market?” I asked one woman who was on duty at the cashier. Based on her vibrant fashion sense and makeup, she might be an art student.

“Are you interested in selling your artworks?” she asked.

“Oh no, I just found this establishment a while ago and I am surely not an artist. I am more curious about the marketplace itself.”

“We’re a local art shop called ‘Not My Beautiful House’. The artworks here are created by local independent artists and Kingston University students.”

What a strategic way for local artists and students to get exposure.

Surrounding the building was the small food market selling delicacies from all around the world, like gelato, kebab, naan, and coffee. A section of the market was reserved for the farmer’s market full of fresh and large producers, even there was a seafood stall in which the fish fillets were preserved on ice. The time had reached noon, and I found a Japanese-Korean fusion stall serving rice and noodles. The stall was a family-operated, and I heard a customer was speaking in fluent Korean with the cashier. It was one of those days when my Asian genes was calling out for rice, so I ordered Chicken Teriyaki don. While waiting, I watched a middle-aged chef stir-frying a large batch of noodles in a wok through the transparent tent. Most food in the UK was pre-cooked, and there was a nostalgic feeling when I found someone was cooking on the spot.

“Here’s your food,” the cashier called. I claimed a piping hot paper box and sat on a wooden picnic table near to the Market House. The other day I told my Malaysian friends about my daily meal; a stupefied Agnes told me to treat myself a sumptuous meal. Here I was, eating a box of chicken teriyaki on top of the sauce-drenched rice embellished with bean sprouts and English peas. It may not be the best don I had in my life, but the portion was very nourishing.

Saxons in Kingston

Near to the market was the All-Saints Church, which was identified by its black church gate sandwiched between a clothing store and a hairdressing salon. Despite the narrow pathway to the south entrance, the churchyard still attracted old people and a couple of goth-looking youth.

Kingston was the coronation site for seven Anglo-Saxon kings. They would sit on a sarsen coronation stone and crowned by Archbishops of Canterbury. This historical stone could be seen near to Kingston’s brownish-red Guildhall building, barricaded within a square baby blue fence. About a century after the Norman takeover, All-Saints Church was built on the original coronation site.

The main attraction point of this church was the stain glass in bright neon colours, depicting various Biblical figures. I recognised the birth of Jesus and his sacrifice, and Saint Michael fighting the dragon near the South-west corner. These stained windows were installed during the Victorian era to replace the original damaged glass. Transparent windows had installed in several stonework around the church during the 2013-14 renovation.

Another unusual feature of the church was the ceiling. The West wing’s ceiling was painted blue with exposed wooden panels, representing the heavens for the little golden angelic sculptures. Moving in the opposite direction, I could see a starry sky, shining upon an embroidery of a Saxon king (the other six had been removed).

There would be more stories about the Saxons in the Kingston Museum. How odd that the museum is closed on Sundays, the day when no one is working or studying.

Cold Drink Under the Sun

For a town called Kingston-Upon-Thames, river viewing should be on the list.

Just a street away from the market town, the emerald river welcomed all sort of people: either by walking or sailing, either the local Londoners or guests from all parts of the world, either the well-dressed office workers or casual-looking parents. Sitting at the side of the stone promenade, people drank cold beer or iced coffee while watching the ships sailing across the river. A child happily fed the ducks and swans with pieces of baguette and cackled when the swan tried to reach for the piece on the deck. The riverside hosted many pubs which were always full house. The opposite view was a lush green garden that belonged to Hampton Court Palace. To have a better view of this contrast, I headed to the Kingston Bridge above the Thames. On one side were the bustling drinkers and diners on the grey promenade, while the other side was dog-walkers and joggers on the amber soil, under the trees’ protection.

Whether I passed by the narrow Hogsmill River near to the Rose Theatre, there would be a swarm of microscopic flies dashing around and darting towards my face. Even walking along the ancient Clattern Bridge, I would be attacked by these flying armies. Are bugs a part of the changing season, from the stinging cold winter to the warmer spring? If it is, the hot Summer would be a wonderland for these annoying pests.

The weather had finally turned warmer; I felt more comfortable walking around the streets. I was craving for a cup of iced coffee, a drink which I rarely order after arriving here, so I returned to the Market Place for the olive stall that sold a £3.50 iced coffee. With the cold drink in my hand, I had the energy to sketch a corner of the Market House’s bell tower. Although the structure looked uncomplicated, I was struggling with the angles. While I was focusing on my sketch, my ears caught a faint sound of flamenco guitar strumming vigorously at the square.