Check out the fabulousness of today's Belgian family shopping experience and cry salt tears for me, a woman who used to live right in the heart of Spitalfields market. Sunday used to mean popping out for a handmade maki roll and a coffee at St John, followed by a sleb spotting wander around the market, check out the sample sales, and maybe a trip up to Start London for some irresponsible shoes or a cheeky Ella Moss top. Now, well, see for yourselves.
First, a general aperçu of the limitless retail opportunities:
I would have liked to get closer but I thought he might chase me. And since this is my street, he would know where I live and all.
This is outside my local supermarket - shut, natch. More about the arcane wonder of Belgian supermarkets at another time.
Then a couple of specific 'must haves'.
The tin of beer bottle tops. Oh yes.
The collection of waffle irons. You couldn't really mistake what country this is, could you?
Oh well. If I sort of half shut my eyes and squint, I suppose it could be the top end of Brick Lane couldn't it?