If there was ever a case for the veracity of nominative determinism, it could be Deptford. Meaning “deep ford”, historically Depftord has been brutally shaped by intense bouts of economic weather: once overflowing with prosperity — and then utterly neglected once the banks had burst. Named a Royal Dockyard in 1513 by Henry VIII, Deptford flourished until competition of a war economy saw it left behind, descending into poverty — a process repeated in both world wars.
Yet today, Deptford flourishes once more. Through all its mistreatment, perhaps even because of it, Deptford’s closely-knit sense of community is righteously palpable; the throngs of the weekly market, the energy of the post-service Methodist Church, the conviviality of restaurants and bars that spill out onto the street in summer and swaddle you in winter.
