Wednesday, May 19, 2010


The spoils of the day. China, pork pies, tinned figs, nasturtiums and you can just peek the incredible plastic deck chair that I know is going to be fought over on every sunny day!

I've been meaning to go to Deptford Market for a few weeks now, after my friend Charlie came by with tales of 40's guitars, 80's channel and naughties bleach. It was a hoot from start to finish. Steph and I arrived at 9am and rocked the place. Bar a few miserly stall holders we found some serious spoils and chatted to lots of funny men.

Every desire was satisfied: we ate delicious indian cake and had fresh juice sitting in the blinding morning sunlight; bought cut glass, and cut price old china for affogato at Rosie's; stumbled upon the Deptford Project and had a nice coffee served by a dishy and shambolic looking boy-man; went to a classic old school butcher for a perfect pork pie; and even bought a deck chair from underneath a rather scary looking dog called Alfie. Get yourself down there for anything from cheap lighters to G plan furniture, tinned figs to Russian Tarragon. And laugh all the way. Now I'm ready to have another the crack at my turkish delights. I feel like I've been on holiday.
Carrot, Orange and Pineapple juice, with Steph's new Lamp. The Deptford Project, which not only has lovely staff but a sun trap garden, good looking food, and is in an old and beautifully designed train carriage.

We slammed on the breaks when we found Wellbeloved the butchers. I've just hoofed a pork pie from them that hit the spot - perfect jelly, nice meat and a firm pastry.

And there was a lot we held back on. We could have bought a beautiful old Singer sewing machine for just £3, a slimming Brigette Jones pair of knickers, and a lot of tinned sardines. The world is your oyster down here. Just keep your eyes peeled and enjoy the ride.


  1. no better way to spend a saturday morning. I found so much treasure down there over the years.

  2. and i thought of you! you know i think it's bloody brilliand, deptford. made me realise how lucky you were to have lived there. xx