STREET MARKET

Battered drum kits to battery powered kitchen utensils, dented toasters, toys and tins of half empty paint await the customer navigating the tables of bric-a-brac. Sellers telling you ‘no photographs’ while the next street corner deal is done behind dark glasses and sideways glances. The patois of dreadlocks blends with accents from the east while the east end accent is found at the fish mongers stall. Proud of his catch he calls to the crowd, holding the shark for shoppers to consider the animal that gave its life for your dinner. Parrots are a plenty or are you in need of a wig, they sit on perches in a cupboard at the rear of the shop, the owner tells me of days when the market was big but with dwindling footfall he watches the inevitable decline. The street market allows us an earthy, straight talking glimpse into living history.