Reza, left, and Mehrdad Aref-Adib – the Persian Wham! and, below, their counterparts George Michael and Andrew Ridgley

FOR those of us who arrived from elsewhere in the 1980s, Camden offered something rare: permission.
I came to London in 1983, 19 years old, carrying more fear than luggage. I did not know what I was running toward, only what I was running from.

London was cold and grey, but Camden had electricity in the air. It felt unfinished and permissive, like somewhere a person could arrive incomplete and still be allowed to exist.

I met Reza in 1984. He was from Isfahan. We met by chance and became inseparable within weeks, two young Iranians with no clear future but an appetite for life. Reza was the friend exile gives you, someone who learns the city alongside you.

Camden taught us how to live. We wandered the market, flipped through vinyl, tried on clothes we would never have dared wear back home. We watched punks shout about Thatcher. We listened and laughed.

At night, we went to Camden Palace in Chalk Farm Road, now Koko. A former ballroom, it had become a gathering point for anyone who did not quite fit elsewhere.

The music jumped between post-punk, pop, funk and soul.

The crowd was Camden in the early 1980s: immigrants, students, punks, artists and outsiders of every kind. Turning up was enough.

One afternoon we stepped into a photo booth. We were not trying to look cool. We just stood there, awkward and amused. When the strip came out, we burst out laughing. We looked like the Persian Wham!

From that photograph came Shataragh!, our imaginary pop duo. One of the song titles we joked about was Last Nowruz. It stayed with me.

Eventually, life moved on. Reza went to Wales to study. I stayed in London, went to art school and lost touch with him, quietly and without drama.

There was no social media then. People disappeared. Time passed. In 1997, I ran into Reza by chance outside a bakery in St Albans. We kept in touch after that.

This spring, as part of the Nowruz Festival, I am showing an exhibition at Lauderdale House in Waterlow Park, Highgate. The exhibition returns to Last Nowruz, now understood not as an ending but as something carried forward.

Camden did not know us personally. But it welcomed our uncertainty. It gave us noise when we needed escape, silence when we needed to disappear, and space to imagine another life.

For two young Iranians far from home, Camden was not just a neighbourhood. It was an accomplice. And for that, I remain grateful.

• Mehrdad Aref-Adib is curator of the Nowruz Festival; see below for more details of the event and also on the website at: www.lauderdalehouse.org.uk/whats-on/nowruz-festival-2026

This year’s Nowruz Festival, celebrating spring, runs until April 6 at Lauderdale House – and everyone is welcome

Highlights include:

• March 14 & 15, 11am-5pm: Nowruz Bazaar – a celebration of craft, culture and community through art, design and tradition

• March 14, 12 noon, free talk: Custom and Camden – Discover the rich traditions of Persian New Year and how they are celebrated; with cultural historian and former BBC World Service presenter Behzad Bolour and Camden councillor Camron Aref-Adib.

• March 15, 11am-3pm: Nowruz Family Day, free – Fun for ages 4-10; learn Persian-inspired crafts!

• March 16, 7.30pm: An evening of music and the poetry of Rumi as the String of Pearls Ensemble present a special Nowruz gathering.

• March 19, 8pm: The Maydan Ensemble of the North London Jazz Collective create an inclusive and irresistible sound that blends modern jazz with Arabic, Anatolian and Persian folk music.

• March 24, 7.30pm: Iran +100 Book Event – Explore how 10 Iranian authors grapple with the past and imagine the future.

• Plus free exhibitions and much more throughout the festival.
www.lauderdalehouse.org.uk/whats-on/nowruz-festival