Working at Borough this weekend was exhausting, I can tell you there was not as much nattering as at Spitalfields, and at three o'clock we certainly didn't all sit down for tea and a twix. Still it was enjoyable. I got a sneek peek of the markets guts - we went out for a drink afterward and learnt about the market tribes: like 'the Monmouths' (from the coffee house) who mostly get on with 'the fish boys', hilarious in-talk.
As we were clearing up the lady on the left in this picture sat down right next to the stall, very much in the way, and said "I'm not moving" in a strained kind of voice as if she was making herself heavy in expectation of us trying to physically move her. Then within five minutes her friend had joined her and was pulling all sorts of goodies out of her wheely-bag: crusty loaves of bread, croissants, lumps of cheese, plants, flowers . . . what a good wheeze!
They reminded me of Alfie from Spitalfields who wanders around blagging cups of tea and biscuits. The other day I went to London Buddhist Centre and when I got in there I was really shocked 'Oh! Hello Alfie!' I said, to which he gave his usual reply - 'can you get me a cup of tea?'. The man in reception explained to me that Alfie goes to them every Tuesday after his first free tea stop - the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting down the road and before going next door for a sausage roll. For all the fuss Freegans make there's an incredible raft of elderly foragers out there living glorious food-filled lives under the radar.
Yesterday we joined them - I made this enormous fondue out of all the cheesy trimmings, it tasted better because it was rescued from the bin. Here's to free food! What a brilliant thing.