Each week Reaction Weekend brings you Favourite Things – interviews with interesting people about the skills, hobbies, pleasures and past times that make them who they are.
Kia Abdullah is an author and travel writer from London. Her novel Take It Back was named a thriller of the year by The Guardian and Telegraph; recommended in The New York Times, The Sunday Times and Observer; and selected for an industry-first audio serialisation by HarperCollins and The Pigeonhole. She is also the founder of Asian Booklist, a nonprofit that promotes diversity in publishing. Her follow-up novel, Truth Be Told, is out now.
These are a few of her favourite things…
Brutalism
I was born and raised in Tower Hamlets in East London and it remains one of my favourite places in the world. It’s true that it’s a little rough around the edges, but the sheer volume of culture here is extraordinary. My favourite building in the borough is Balfron Tower, a hulking, dystopian block of flats designed by Ernö Goldfinger (the same man who inspired the famous Bond villain). There’s something almost supernatural about Brutalist architecture, like it may have emerged from another age or dimension. Trellick Tower in west London, also designed by Goldfinger, is equally impressive. My other Brutalist favourites are Habitat 67 in Montreal, Torre Velasca in Milan and the Geisel Library in San Diego. Brutalism is a bit like Marmite; you either love it or hate it. I’m firmly in the former camp.
Bangalore Express
Bangalore Express is my favourite Indian restaurant in London. There used to be a branch in Waterloo with two-tier seating designed to resemble train carriages. You would have to climb up a ladder if you wanted to sit on the second level and the servers would pop up with your food. It sounds gimmicky, but it was really charming. Sadly, that branch closed a while ago and the only one remaining is in Bank, just off Cornhill. The ambience here can be hit and miss depending on when you go – it’s often too empty in the early evening and a little bit rowdy when the bankers come in – but the food is unparalleled. I’ve been going there for about 10 years and every meal has been fantastic. The thalis are wonderfully indulgent and the paneer tikka masala is the best I’ve ever tasted. I missed it so desperately in lockdown that I emailed the restaurant for the recipe. The chef, Yogesh Datta, very generously shared it with me.
Diving
I’m one of those people who find it really hard to switch off. My mind is always going a mile a minute, so learning to dive was a revelation for me. I’m not a natural water baby and 18 metres beneath the surface is definitely out of my comfort zone, but that’s why I love diving so much. It clears my mind and forces me to focus on the here and now. Experienced divers are some of the calmest people I’ve ever met and spending time with them always feels special. I should say that I had a hell of a time getting certified: at one point, I threw up in my regulator (the breathing tube) five metres down and had to flush it and just continue breathing – but it was worth it! I’ve since dived in some extraordinary places: with sharks in the Galápagos, a shipwreck in Djibouti, a plane wreck in Aruba, a wall dive in the Turks and Caicos and a secret spot in the Great Barrier Reef.
Clear writing
The best writing lesson I ever learnt came from my Computer Science professor at university: “Never say ‘to facilitate the utilisation of’ when what you mean is ‘to make it easier to use’”. I’m a fan of the Plain English Campaign which encourages people to use simple language. Clear writing is why Sapiens, for example, was such a success. Yuval Noah Harari takes all these complicated ideas and distils them so neatly. There was none of the dense, laboured language so favoured by academics. Clear writing also works for fiction. Novelists like Hanya Yanagihara write exquisite prose that’s also remarkably easy on the reader. I recently read A Little Life, her 720-page million-selling novel, and barely noticed the length. That’s the power of clear writing.
Horses
It’s impossible to feel angry or stressed when petting a friendly horse. The gentle nature of these creatures works like a balm, which may explain why equine therapy is used for troubled kids. I took horse riding lessons on and off for several years and have had my fair share of accidents and bruises. I’ve fallen off four times, broken my good hand, been trodden on once and kicked twice. In 2017, on a riding holiday in Montenegro, I got kicked in the back and was incredibly fortunate to walk away from that. I continued riding until 2020 when I watched a video by horse trainer Ren Hurst that made me quit riding for ethical reasons. I miss it intensely and occasionally head to a nearby paddock just to be around the horses. It’s a wonderful de-stresser, which feels more important than ever this year.