to borough market, to market i go

Today I caught the tube to Borough Market. I’d been recommended it by a friend by a blog. I just followed the crowd. And the crowd followed the smell. The smell of spices and cooked smoke and roasting meats. To market, to market I went. 

The market lies in between a muddle of train bridges and concrete. It fits into the space nicely and then spills onto the surrounding streets trying to box it in. I squeezed down the stairs and into the heart of it all. And what is on offer you may ask, well I’ll tell you. Cheeses of every variety, vegetables, fruits, cured meats, olives, olive pastes, dips, pasta, juice, cakes, breads, slices…And I’ve only just begun. I taste-tested my way around the place with my hand out and a ‘please sir can I have some more?’ 

For lunch it was suggested that I choose the longest queue of people and eat whatever it was that drew the longest queue of people. But I couldn’t possibly wait that long. And so (by suggestion I ordered a chicken chilli wrap with spinach and mayonnaise from ‘The Posh Banger Boys’ on Stoney street and it was cooked while I fiddled through my money. I could have ordered another ten more. I then bought a small crate of strawberries and a brownie that turned to dense chocolate in my mouth. 

Borough Market, I feel as if I have eaten your entire contents and still I want more. 

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