[leigh kitchen]

Again, the people I met along that little strip of Allenby will be long gone, the bit down by the beach was rough, ill lit with drunks huddled around 40 gal oil drum braziers outside sleazy little bars, shouting & fighting.
The other end had a few jewelers & antique shops which were too upmarket for me although they had a few exotic looking foreign awards, crosses in gilt, silver enamels etc for sale.
The red light district to the south side & a new hotel district to the north (or so it was described to me at the time).
My hotel on that visit turned out to be down a side road there on the south side.
I spent a great evening swigging Macabee & eating falafel & pizza around one of those volcanic oil drums, an American Israeli guy introduced me to a little old lady (ex of the nocturnal sidewalk perambulation persuasion) & a few other ex concentration camp survivors. All still had their camp tattoos.
They understood virtually no English & I understood less as the evening wore on.
A slightly scarier version of sitting in an English town square drinking Special Brew with the local winos I suppose, but they were interesting people who'd obviously been through a heck of an experience.