Leicester Square’s Chinatown: The Nightless Town
I usually avoided Chinatown. Travelling to another country is a means to avoid the familiar sight of home, immersing oneself in foreign views and culture. Why would I want to have fried rice in England when I could order fish and chips or strawberry crepes on the streets of London?
The mindset changed when I visited Chinatown with my British Chinese friends.
Walking Across the Thames
If the sky is clear, I will say carpe diem. Cross the Golden Jubilee Bridge was a rewarding moment with the view of London Eye accompanied by the rhythmic percussion beats. River taxis carried passengers from one destination to the next along the calm Thames.
Connie led the way since she had once headed to Chinatown herself. Through the lively Victoria Embankment Gardens, we had dived into London’s heart. Right opposite the Charing Cross station was a sculpture as a bench, with the inscription ‘A Conservation with Oscar Wilde 1854-1900’. Oscar Wilde’s head at one end looked like a wax figure that was about to melt under the merciless heat, making him look indistinguishable from his handsome profile.
“Who’s Oscar Wilde?” Connie asked.
“How could you guys not know Oscar Wilde?” I exclaimed. “The author of the Picture of Dorian Gray?”
“I’ve heard of Dorian Gray, but I’ve not read the book.”
Connie had been to the National Gallery during her previous visit to the city. The fine art museum was not to her liking, although she admired the aesthetic. Quite understandable. We get fatigue easier in large museums or galleries as we are bombarded by hundreds of artworks and artefacts. The repeated motion of walking, stopping, and looking at familiar items equates to running a marathon.
Is Chinatown Purely Chinese?
The more Chinese characters appear on the signboards, the closer it is to Chinatown. We entered a lane where people queued for Taiwanese street food. The red lanterns were still suspended in the sky, symbolising the new and auspicious beginning of the year. A week earlier, the street emitted a cheerful atmosphere filled with firecrackers and lion dances. The King and Queen Consort maintained their annual tradition of celebrating with the Asian community in red garments. There was still one more week for Asians to bask in the festive mood before the lanterns were taken down.
Chinatown in the day is chill. We could scout the stores without the pressure to rush to the next destination. Browsing the bakeries had never been this exciting where I found sausage buns, egg tarts, and pandan layer cakes on the shelves, pastries that are exclusive in East Asia. A shop displayed youtiao, freshly fried and sparkling in gold. How much I miss dipping it into a bowl of congee! I could easily buy a few from the morning market near my house while in the UK. I must cross the countryside and river to have a bite on an overpriced youtiao.
Asian grocery stores spread across Chinatown like spiderwebs. Aside from the premises differences, the recurring products in these shops are snacks, drinks, soy sauce, and instant noodles. I recognised most of the names, like Cocoon pudding and Hup Seng biscuits. What shocked me was the price differences in UK stores and its local price. Take the Mamee Monster snack as an example. I had to pay five times the amount of its original price in Malaysia. The immense pain I felt when I made my purchase was akin to give a stab to my thigh.
Connie and Trinity’s purpose was to solve their bubble milk tea craving, and where would be a better place than Chinatown to get authentic boba? I was hungry since morning. I had to fill my grumbling stomach, otherwise migraine would crawl at the sides of my temple. A store right beside the Taiwanese street food selling streamed buns and crepes. I was sold. I had to get that steamed bun with red bean filling. Down the street was a dessert shop for soy pudding, an unlikely dessert in the UK. We brought our food to the plaza and much of them. Soy pudding with brown sugar has always been a Heavenly combination.
If you think that was all about Chinatown, there were more than just street food and groceries.
Occasionally, cartoon mascots would appear among the crowd, acting cute and friendly to the passers-by. Due to copyright issues, their appearances were altered. So far, I had seen two horrifying-looking Mickey Mouses and an ugly Pikachu knockoff. According to the PhotoSoc president Amel, these mascots would charge around 20 pounds for a picture. One of those typical tourist traps. In fact, I rather buy a ticket to Disneyland than take a photo with these inaccurate cartoon characters.
Chinatown became livelier when the sky turned dark. Just like any Asian night market, the streets would be flooded with tourists and locals alike to have a taste of Asian delicacy. One had to walk along with the flow. There was no way to turn around or stop midway. Dining in would be a problem without prior appointment or suffer in an hour-long queue. I once heard dining in Chinatown high-end restaurant cost around 100 per pax. Pretty chaotic.
The other side of Chinatown’s nightlife was more thrilling and vibrant for adults only. Around the same area as the Taiwanese eatery, I spotted a bar with a rainbow flag waving along the wind and a casino featuring Magic Mike performances. I imagined people taking off their masks to liberate themselves for a night, free from social constraints.
The actual Leicester Square moved away from the crowd. A marble Shakespeare stroke a pose on top of a water fountain, holding a scroll quoting a line from Twelfth Night: ‘There is no darkness but ignorance’. Surrounding him were the other British national treasures, like Harry Potter, Mary Poppins, and Mr Bean (whom I missed until I found out from Google Maps).
Indulge in Sweetness and Building Blocks
When there was too much sweetness lingering in the air, the scent would irritate one’s nostrils the same way a garbage pile would do. An accurate way to describe the M&M scent. Right beside the entrance were four gigantic M&M mascots-spokescandies-walking on a zebra crossing, imitating the iconic Beatles album cover.
There were four storeys in total. We descended the stairs to find M&M dispensers, like those in coffee bean shops or American candy shops. There were other unusual flavours aside from the typical peanut or chocolate fillings, such as salted caramel and brownie. The colour had a wider range compared to the six standard coverings. There were visitors queuing up to have their faces printed on their M&M candies, which I found somewhat unsettling.
M&M merchandise filled the lowest basement and upper floors, with spokecandies had wide grins permanently stuck on their faces. How funny was that the M&M’s board had replaced them with Maya Rudolph in their latest commercial. There were several photobooths set up around the store for visitors to take commemorative photos. We showed funny faces for the camera, distorting our faces and adding weird filters over, but refused to make any purchases for the photos. Instead, we went for the cheapskate move of capturing the photos via our phones.
Trinity and Connie texted our mutual friend Chloe, who was on the way from the station. We waited at the upper floor, leaning against the railing as we watched students in uniforms and young children sprawling across the floor. It took around ten minutes for Chloe to arrive in a fashionable attire, with an LV paper bag and a black trench coat.
The LEGO store was right opposite. It felt like stepping into an alternative universe where everything was made of LEGO bricks. Have you ever seen a James Bond car made of grey LEGO? Or the tall Big Ben near the entrance? Even the Harry Potter characters were constructed of millions of bricks.
On the second floor was a vast collection of LEGO pieces in a wide range of colours, ready for visitors to assemble into horrendous mini figures. The girls dived into the million pieces of yellow LEGO heads and matched them in the outfits. I went for an easier route: a head and a long hair piece.
“Are you sure you don’t need a body?” Trinity asked.
“It’s a decapitated head,” I said. “There’s no need for one.”
A new friend, Angela, appeared. She just finished touring around London and reconvene with Connie and the others. We walk around the streets of Soho and window-shopped around Korean cosmetics stores, overpriced clothing, vintage stores, and a Japanese karaoke bar.
As it was about dusk, we looked for a good place for dinner.
Pampered by Malaysian Food
Looking for an empty table during dinner hours is a nightmare, especially for a city like London. We went from Thai, Ramen, to Italian around the Soho area, and discovered they were full house or queuing outside in the dark.
“I guess we could try Malaysian,” Chloe said. “Hoping there’s space for us.”
The Malaysian cuisine, Rasa Sayang, was in one corner of Chinatown. According to Chloe, it was decent for UK standards and pricy. When I peeked through the window, all I saw were rows of heads. A man in a black shirt approached us and gladly brought us to a vacant seat in the basement. The cave, what I called it, was large enough to fit the five of us.
We had settled down for five minutes, but the menus had yet to arrive. I headed for the counter and asked a middle-aged lady who looked like she had eaten rotten fish.
“Sit,” she spoke in a condescending tone like my primary school teachers. “I’ll bring for you.”
The lady brought five A4-sized menus to the table. I had a hard time choosing between nasi lemak, nasi goreng, or the laksa (even though it was not Penang style). Angela had been to Malaysia once, but she also had a hard time choosing. Connie and Trinity, the British Chinese, had no experience in Malaysian cuisine.
“Why don’t we order three mains and share them?” Chloe said. The lady returned with a tablet.
“What do you want?” she demanded. We eventually told our order to the lady. Once she was gone, Chloe pointed out how intimated I felt. Of course, I never liked people speaking in this manner.
Our food arrived faster than we thought. How generous the portion was the nasi goreng with prawns. Nasi lemak came with the usual sides, but with an extra bowl of curry chicken. Chloe ordered a plate of satay for sharing, while Connie and Trinity shared a plate of roti canai. What puzzled me was the laksa with thick orange broth with thin noodles? Wasn’t that Sarawakian? Why would they brand this as Singaporean laksa? My Sarawakian friends would go berserk if they knew about this.
It was a feast indeed. For UK standard, this would be the best place for Malaysian cuisine (nothing beats the OG RM2 roadside nasi lemak). We asked for the bill and takeaway food containers. The fierce lady brought a receipt, and my vision turned dark when I saw the price.
“The rich one pay first,” the lady said. “You divide later.”
Angela took out her card and tapped on the machine.
“I see. You must be the rich one.”
We giggled. The lady had a sense of humour, after all.
“Give me a good review, just mention Sexy Auntie Alice on Google. I need to reach my target.”
Laughter blasted from everyone’s throat. Aunty Alice was the embodiment of never judge a book by its cover.
Angela brought us to a Korean store where she usually bought necessities from her homeland. I doubted it was purely Korean, judging from the Japanese and China’s product on the shelves. I bought a pack of udon and seaweed for the next day’s dinner. We marched back to the Golden Jubilee Bridge for the train back to Guildford. Only photographers were present on the bridge to capture the London Eye in flashing neon lights.
Date of Visitation: 30 Janurary 2023
Victoria Embankment Garden
Address: Villiers St, London, WC2N 6DU
Chinatown @ Leichester Square
Address: London W1D 5QA
M&M World
Opening Hours: 10am-10pm (Mon-Sat); 12noon-6pm (Sun)
Address: 1 Swiss Ct, London W1D 6AP
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LEGO
Opening Hours: 10am-10pm (Mon-Sat); 12noon-6pm (Sun)
Address: 3 Swiss Ct, London W1D 6AP
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Rasa Sayang
Rating: 8/10
Opening Hours: 12pm-10pm (Mon-Sat); 12pm-9pm (Sun)
Address: 5 Macclesfield St, London W1D 6AY
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