Monday, October 03, 2005

More shopping...

Saturday morning. I managed to stay awake on my home from an overnight shift. Out of the warm underground, I met the quiet streets and the chilled air. My favourite time of the day. The beautiful sound of silence and the illusion of clean crisp air. Hopped on the 52 bus, struggled to keep my eyes open, and didn’t miss my stop. Dropped the handbag, undressed, and slipped deep in the soft warm comforter. Closed eyes, exhaled, and drifted into heavenly sleep.


Sweat dropping down my back. Roaring engines covering the whispers of the leaves in the wind. It must be afternoon. I need my daily walk into sunlight before my night shift tonight. Besides, I have nothing to read anymore and could use some window shopping. And I remember I should get those leather belts down at the market. They were only 12 pounds. Gathered all my strength, grabbed a peach, and headed for the crowded market.

On a mission to find something to lift my spirit.
A pair of handmade earrings made of seashells and grains? 7 pounds.
A chocolate brown fake suede leather jacked with white woolly lining? 20 pounds
One handmade wide leather belt with metal thingies incrusted in it? 40 pounds (gasp)
Smells of great Caribbean food? Free!
Colourful handmade glass jewellery: rings, earrings, pendants? 25 pounds at least

Wait. I need a lamp or a light bulb for my room. Bought light bulbs the day before but they don’t fit. Looking at those garland lights in the shape of flowers and stars (10 pounds). Got into the deco shop having a clearance sale. Got 2 candles for 2 pounds. That will do. I won’t dress in the dark tonight.

Laughter tickled my sleepy brain: just saved 38 pounds and won light!

Going shopping

While waiting for the tube, I blankly stared at a huge poster promoting Toronto as a destination. The top level showed four young women, arm in arm, laughing with their teeth out, and looking very happy in a bustling street bordered with tall skyscrapers. The text in huge font was spelling out RETAIL. The bottom of the poster displayed a woman wrapped in a white towel, lying on her belly with her eyes closed, and awaiting for a masseur. The word THERAPY spanned the width of the picture. And it quite fitted my needs at the time: retail therapy or shopping session was always welcome in my world.

I used to consider grocery shopping as a mere activity to get bread and milk for the fridge. Living 15minutes from the Portobello Road fresh market changed all that. One Day I had a good list of groceries set up in my head: bread, milk, some oranges, tomatoes, and most importantly, toilet paper. I got out, and decided to walk my way down to the market in an attempt to burn some fat. To be honest though, it was because my bus card had expired the day before, and the weather was pretty sunny. I rolled down Ladbroke Grove road, turned left and found myself in the middle of hordes of tourists. I forgot it was Saturday, which meant thousands of tourists with cameras admiring the antique market and the handmade goods at various stalls.

So I fought my way through, and started admiring the vivid colors of the fruits and vegetables on display. I got myself a box of raspberries to nibble through my shopping. The cries of “5 mangoes for a pound” startled me and I instinctively walked back to the stall and got 5 mangoes. Which was not a good idea because they were huge and heavy and I haven’t even bought anything on my list yet. I told myself this was my weight training of the day.

My next stop was the flower stall, where I stared long minutes at flowers of unknown names, and bought nothing. I suspect it was just an excuse on my part, a way to calm down before passing by the bread and snack vendor just next to it. The stall was adorned with bagels, fruit tarts, pizza, baguettes, round breads with Italian names, foccacias, donuts, and more…

Walking up the hill with a newly bought chocolate donut, I almost bought a stamping rubber with an intricate flower design. Fortunately I didn’t have enough cash on me. I passed by various jewelry stalls, old and antique leather and wooden toys and games stall, an expensive macaron shop, and more antique merchants. Finally I got to Notting Hill gate station and topped up my bus card. I got home by bus, to realize I absolutely didn’t buy anything useful. And while washing those beautiful mangoes, I discovered they were all very ripe and soft, and needed to be eaten soon.

The day’s worth? 5 mangoes and no toilet paper!