5 Aleimda Street

Sometimes it is a good thing to be a stubborn pig-headed mule of a woman.  Like tonight.  I had to pick up a parcel from my local post office.  Okay, no problem, I have even been there once before to buy a stamp.  It's on Upper Street right across from St Somebody-or-Other's Church.  Except according to the card that is not the place I am supposed to go.  I'm going to 5 Aleimda Street.  At first I was looking for Alameda on the map -- which is a dam in Saskatchewan and not a street in London -- so that wasn't helping.  Once I sorted that little bit out I was able to ascertain that I, in fact, pass Aleimda Street each and every time I walk up to Highbury Islington Station (note to self: look up every once in a while) on my way to and from work.

With this bit of confidence in place, I leave work early -- this was a really good idea as you will soon discover -- and proceed to a street in London and not a dam in Saskatchewan.  I turn onto Aleimda and note that the first place is 32 and then 28.  Excellent.  Not so excellent, I have reached the end of the street and I am only at 14 (a quick check across the street reveals it is only at 13).  There is a very mysterious, and poorly lit, Aleimda Passage at the end.  I can only descibe this as an arch shaped tunnel between/under two townhouses.  I emerge in another street definitely not named Aleimda.  I wander a bit.  You would be surprised how often you are the only person on a street in a city as large as London.  Eventually, I find my way back to Upper Street (which is the street I started on) but a considerable distance south.

The card from the post office most definitely says 5 Almeida Street.  I am now irritated beyond all beleif with the Royal Mail.  I try to phone their "help" line but the automated voice hangs up on me.  Twice.  Grr.  Back up to Aleimda I go -- but this time approaching from the opposite direction.  The first thing I notice is that, while the other side of the street started at 32 and was going down, this side is starting a 1 and going up.  Are you kidding me?  1, 2, 3, 4...6.  WTF.  But there is a very dodgy looking ramp thing hidden between 4 & 6.  No sign indicating that this may lead to a Post Office? Wouldn't there be some lights?  This is just a dark alley-ish path.

But as I stand there wondering if this the kind of spot that Jack the Ripper used to stake out?  A woman with a parcel emerges from the dark path.  So, I ignore my Mom's instructions and head, by myself, down a dimly lit alley in one of the largest cities in the world.  Turns out that is where you find the Post Office in Islington.