Sunday, July 2

Portobello Market

Our first years in London, in Maida Vale W9, a Saturday morning routine included friends (or solo) at Lisboa, a Portuguese bakery on Golborne Road, for coffee, followed by the Portobello market and a search for groovy purchases (me, chords and the occasional age-inappropriate jacket; Sonnet, silver or household items).

On the Kensal Town side, Portobello is a flea market on steroids - stalls selling ancient tools, books, ceramics, table ware, junk - and a colourful neighbourhood that is still working class though seriously gentrified since we first came here (Look over there! (Where?) Here comes Jeanie with her new boyfriend).

The road connects into Notting Hill and becomes densely crowded with high and very-high end shops where one may find Rolexes and antiques. I bought my Yashika Mat dual lens box camera here which is now in Madeleine's room; it is a marvelous camera but the medium format film renders it impractical.

Eitan (in the crowded market): "What's my budget?"
Me: "Well, how much money do you have?"
Eitan: "I thought you were going to give us some money."
Me: "Tell you what. You say 'I love you Dad' and I will give you twenty pounds."
Me: "Easy money. 'I love you Dad.'"
Eitan: "I am not going to say that here."
Me: "Ok no money."
Eitan, whispering: "I love you Dad."
Me, loudly: "What ? Can't here you."
Eitan: "I love you Dad."
Me: "Here's twenty pounds."
Madeleine: "I love you Dad!"