Toppers, 12th February

Toppers was not my scene. As well you know, I like a fetish night as much as the next guy, but I’m more into a party with a little kink on the side, than making it the sole focus of my night out. The clue is really in the name - it's all about 'topping' someone (though of course you need plenty of bottoms around to do that).

It’s actually a bit of a mix of a social and playing, but there's no dancing element. It’s a super-friendly crowd, but very much skewed toward the older, submissive male (often with cross-dressing tendencies) and femme doms than any other persuasion. Which isn’t really what I’m into. I still managed to quite happily pass four hours in there as I had a couple of friends with me and am always happy to chat to different people. Pretty much anything goes as well and there were a few eye-opening scenes taking place. I’m happy to say I was the subject of some voyeurism myself, while I played rope bunny to my friend’s rigging and was suspended for the first time. If my poor circulation hadn’t let me down I could have merrily hung around for quite some time. It feels odd to not be responsible for the way your body is being held at all. In a good way!

If you’re into your BDSM with a male sub/female dom slant and don’t mind an older crowd then you’ll love it there. Or you just want to chat to some friendly kinksters without really getting into anything this would also be a good place to start. Although I must admit, there were a few guys who, while they didn't exactly creep on me, you could see their eyes light up to have someone new to possibly play with and the eagerness was a little offputting!

Bound, 6th November

Bound is not for the faint-hearted if the one I attended is anything to go by.

It is a night for shibari enthusiasts and novices alike, shibari being the Japanese art of rope bondage. It was held at the Flying Dutchman which hosts many an alternative night, and is a cool, quirky little venue, though not the ideal set up for a performance space as we soon found out. If you didn’t nab your place, and were shorter than 6 foot, seeing any of the performances was out of the question. I realized this after the second act though and didn’t make the same mistake twice.

To start, there is some mingling, and then a demonstration of how to do some basic tying. There is plenty of rope around and people brought their own and there is time to practise and do some tying amongst yourselves before the performances start.

There were five scheduled for the night, due to end by 11:30. I ended up leaving at midnight (only just getting the last tube home) and had to miss the final act as they were so behind schedule.

I can only imagine what the last performance was about as the acts definitely increased in intensity as the night wore on.

Suspension featured in every act, but the level of ‘violence’ in each varied. The first act was quite gentle really – tender almost, with none of the tying looking too vicious. The second was the one I couldn’t really see but seemed to take this up a notch with a little more sadomasochism involved. The third show was thrilling and beautiful – a self-tying performance of twirls and sweeps as the girl expertly tied and untied herself to support her movements.

And finally (for me) an act fraught with tension and power that was almost difficult to watch. What made it bearable for me was knowing that the two involved likely had a deep connection and of course that everything that took place was consensual in some way. The previous pieces had been set to music but for this there was none. You could feel the puzzlement in the room as to why this was so (and a touch of boredom setting in) but as it went on, you realized how inappropriate music would have been and also how unnecessary. The girl of the pair, dressed in a sarong and flower pasties was trussed and bound until her knees were bent and she was hanging against a vertical pole. The rope around her looked menacing and cutting. Her pose was awkward and uncomfortable. She was expertly manoeuvred into several different positions – some better for the flogging she was subjected to. The tension built and built until it culminated in a final humiliation and her being untied, collapsing into her "tormentor"’s arms, her beautiful hair unpinned and falling over her face, where she quietly wept. (In relief? In pain? In ecstasy?). I couldn’t tell if I was turned on or horrified. That was almost a month ago and even now I can picture it all clearly, it was so striking and affecting.

I really wish I could have seen the final performance as well but Camberwell is hard enough to get back from when the tubes were running so off we dashed like Cinderella. 

Wonderland, 30th May

Wonderland was the second time in quite a short space of time I went to the Flying Dutchman for a party. The last time it was for Sparkle Hard and Wonderland had a similar sort of vibe going on. Dress code – colourful and whatever you want to wear (with it being somewhat alternative implied). So, donning as many different colours as possible, we headed down there expecting the same friendly, fun, sexy atmosphere there had been before.

And so there was, although it was in no way a carbon copy. I had a lot of fun (a LOT of fun ;)) but I preferred Sparkle Hard for one main reason – dancing. Even though Wonderland used exactly the same space, in this same space they had put a mini-ball pit and a pole for people to frolic around. I know I’m in isolation in not getting why ballpits are so much fun and everyone else seemed to love them, but it took up a lot of room and discouraged people from dancing I felt. Which is what I’m all about on a Saturday night!

Apart from that, it was a really great night – there’s a bit of crossover with these sorts of nights so it was nice to chat to lots of people and re-meet people I’d seen at other events. Everyone made an effort, donning as many shades as they could which really adds to the atmosphere. There weren't as many silly things going on as at Sparkle Hard - it was more a standard night in a pub but downstairs was the smallish dungeon and the area at the back to get frisky. I had enough fun upstairs to not need to explore (much) what was going on below. That's the thing with these parties. You can get as involved as you want. If you just want somewhere inclusive with a bunch of cool people then you just come along for that. Some people who had been before didn't remember it as being quite as friendly as, say Sparkle Hard, but I'm happy to say I disagreed. Yet another thing I'd be happy to go back to!

Sparkle Hard and The Flying Dutchman, 24th April

Sparkle Hard is a sex-positive inclusive kinky dance party and one of its ‘rules’ is not to gossip about what goes on at Sparkle Harder. So I won’t. In fact, going to Sparkle Hard doesn’t have to be about the sex side of things at all (although if you’re into that I’m sure you would enjoy that aspect). Otherwise, it is all about going to an intimate party where everyone there has the same ideas about what made a fun night out – dressing up and being silly, chatting to lots of friendly people and dancing about to some good (most of the time) music without any attitude.

The whole thing is run by volunteers which means they have a strict entry policy – you have to get there between 9 and 10 so the door staff have plenty of time to enjoy the party themselves. While this went against the grain as someone who tends to go out later rather than earlier, because everyone has to comply, it means the place is pretty full from the get-go, and people are up and dancing that much sooner. Plus, it only finished at 3 so you want to make the most of it. The theme was sort of space/futuristic and people really made the effort, whether with bought costumes or ones cobbled together (like mine was somewhat) with what they could find. The Fabulous of Unicorns were in full attendance (they get everywhere), and, thanks to my costume (I thought of myself as a unicorn robot – megaglow stick for a horn and tin foil all over the place) I got to be an honorary member for the night!

There’s not just dancing and general socialising, they put on a bit of a show for you as well with two acts on upstairs and some glitter wrestling later on in the night. How to win – remove your opponents pants! So funny! Then, while I was upstairs dancing, someone brought out what I thought was a massive fake party popper but was intended to be a giant bottle for a game of spin the bottle. This kind of sums up the night for me – an injection of a silly, juvenile game, played with openness and a willingness to experiment.

As the night wore on more people descended the stairs to do whatever it was they wanted to do down there, with whoever it was they wanted to do it with.

It was held this time in the Flying Dutchman, a venue which is known for hosting and housing alternative nights such as these, or Bound for example – a night all about shibari. It’s not the easiest place to get to, in deepest, darkest Camberwell but it is a cool space. It’s basically a pub with two levels big enough for dancing and any other shenanigans you may want to put on. I can see myself returning in future and in fact I am there soon enough for Wonderland!

I really had a lovely time at Sparkle Hard – it was full of friendly, fabulous folk and you can tell the people that run it put a lot of effort into making it the type of event they want. There are certain rules, or should I say, etiquette to adhere to – there’s no letting any old riff raff off the street in, for example, which ensures everyone who is there has the same safe, consensual, no-attitude, welcoming state of mind. This is the little sister to Kinky Salon, and based on this event, I can't wait to see what they do on a bigger scale. 

Silk Road, 10th April

Chinese is arguably my boyfriend’s favourite cuisine, but, while I enjoyed the odd chow mein or spring roll, it wasn’t something that I routinely craved. Discovering the regional cuisine of Sichuan, Hunan and, now, XinJiang has rather changed that.

While they’re all, obviously, different regions, they do have similarities in their liberal use of hot peppers and offally ingredients. Ba Shan is an excellent example of this and Silk Road, where I went on Wednesday, is another.

There’s at least a handful or reviews and blog posts about this place and I must admit I’m not really adding anything new to the canon. Silk Road is cheap, delicious, and a pain to get to. More of a café than a restaurant, we remembered to book a few days before we planned to go and as we heard them turning people away, saying there was a one hour wait, we realised it had been essential. From just after we arrived the place was full and stayed that way all night. On a Wednesday! In the depths of Camberwell!

I had heard that the menu was quite short but it was still long enough for it to take us quite some time to decide on which dishes to choose. They all sounded pretty good and we didn’t want to waste our long trip down (and back) by ordering something sub-par.

There were four of us and we went for the following:

• Big plate chicken
• Double cooked pork
• Pork and celery dumplings
• Eight lamb skewers
• Bak choi in garlic sauce (we felt like just ought to have some veg – our mothers would be proud)
• Shredded tripe with onions and chillies (a wild card dish at Stephen’s insistence that we try something different)
• Two boiled rice.

The pork and celery dumplings came first. You get ten for £3.00 and each dumpling was very generously filled. They were great, slightly chewy dough with juicy pork and finely shredded celery inside. It’s not a combination I’d had before but it really worked, with the celery adding a lightness and freshness to the dumplings.

Shortly after the double cooked pork arrived – thin slices of it thoroughly coated in a sweet, hot sauce with liberal red and green chillies. That sauce was fantastic – the first bite had quite a kick to it but it was manageable if you didn't eat too many of the fresh chillies at once. The pork was soft and each bit had a bit of naughty fat on its edge.

I worried that they might bring my least anticipated dish at the end – the tripe, but luckily, it came out as we were halfway through the pork. It didn’t look that appetising – the onions and tripe were pale and drab with the fresh green chillies the only vibrant and inviting thing on the plate. We all had a tentative bite and pronounced it – OK! The tripe was soft, the texture not unpleasant, and, to be honest, didn’t have much of a taste. It was inoffensive. We had a few forkfuls each and then eagerly went back to finish off the pork.

Then the skewers arrived. From my reading I knew not to let these sit on the table for too long and quickly grabbed my two skewers. Each skewer had about 6 little morsels of crispy, fatty lamb dusted with cumin (I think). They were amazing. My favourite dish up until that point.

The piece de resistance was, of course, the big plate chicken. A massive bowl was brought to the table full of a steaming brown sauce, star anise scents emanating from it. There were the requisite chillies floating about – fresh green ones and those dried red chillies that must have been soaking in the broth for so long they had rehydrated. There were large chunks of potato and of course the chicken pieces on the bone.

We scooped out several pieces of chicken and potato into little bowls, with a bit of the broth and all marvelled at the taste. I have never tasted chicken like it. It didn’t even look like chicken – it looked like barbequed pork. It was so dark, so fully had it absorbed the flavours from the soup. They must marinate the hell out of that chicken. The broth had a very savoury taste to it that was incredibly more-ish. But this was also where the heat lay and it was easy to forget this when you were spooning it out. There were sniffles all round.

We’d only taken a little out of the pot when the handful of noodles (the largest noodles I’ve ever seen) were dumped into the plate. I’d thought this happened when you’d completely depleted the dish of meat and potatoes, but no matter.

Such was the size and length of them, one portion worked out to about two noodles each. Now, I like noodles, but normally I’m more of a fan of the thinner, glass or rice noodles. These were thick, but flat, and meaty, chewy. Slightly sweet. I loved them.

Our feast started to defeat us and we weren’t able to completely finish our big plate, though we did dredge the bowl for the last pieces of chicken. I finished off my share of the rice by adding lots and lots of the soup to create a savoury rice pudding, which in my humble opinion was a fantastic creation.

By this point, I’d ingested so many chillies I think I was beginning to feel a bit spacey. You don’t even really notice it at first but that burn slowly builds. Our very garlicky bak choi provided some relief from the heat, but I kept dipping mine in the soup thus defeating its cooling qualities.

We paid our bill – a princely £15 each (including tip) and departed.

Why, oh why does it have to be in Camberwell?! I’m jonesing for those lamb skewers even now, and sooo want to try the other dishes I’d heard were good – the home style aubergine and cabbage, the fried dumplings. One day I’ll venture there again. 
One day.