From "The Ballad Of Spitalfieds Market" by Rory Mcleod by cranberrygoddess
I miss the smells of old Spitalfields market, there’s spirit in those bricks. How did I start? I said I’d help out for a couple of weeks and here I am after 37 years, no hold on it’s 43 years, I must be a mug, now it’s in my hones and it’s in my blood.
I was hoping to find a lively multicultural fruit market, but just got a closed, glass, done up space. Still, the name conjures up lots of images to me. I went to the East End this time in London in an attempt to get a look at the place where my Dad grew up, but I think it has changed so much it would be hard to see what it was like.
over 4 years ago
