SubscribeThe dirt and dust of the ground floor made me think that animals came here alive, doomed for the cold stores but alive at the begging. We stepped into the dark. A scramble down a crumbling wet wall and we were on the floor. Soft under foot, wet now with water from the leaky roof, but once with blood? It wasn’t beyond belief.
We stepped through some ancient arch that marked the edge of one world and the start of another. This supposedly hidden gem of London greets us with a morbid handshake.
Two lift shafts and an endless maze of fridges that would have once served the main market above. I took out my flash and did some test shots. The lighting was too even and made the place look too flat. I took out the trusty Tesco torch and began to light paint, getting rough, ill lit, pictures that suited the place that much better.
The three of us ventured upwards. There were things very much alive in this place. You would see them in the corner of your eye or hear them scurry across the floor. Rats? You’re never more than six feet away from a rat in London. Here I’d be willing to be it’s only 1 or 2 feet if you’re lucky.
We worked our way up the higher floors but couldn’t reach the top floor. The stairs creaked as we approached them and decided that it wasn’t worth going any further forward. We retreated to the ground floor, walked through the main area of the market and up onto the roof, walking through the offices of the market, something about how the floor boards had been pulled up reminded me of somewhere in Belgium. From the roof one can abseil into the city’s biggest asset and biggest weakness. We did not venture in.
We hid in the shadows. The street out side is a bit of an informal taxi rank and as we wanted to leave a cabby had pulled up and started to eat his tea. This was one place we didn’t really want to be seen leaving. Whilst its not massive, it’s a nice central explore and I’d like to do a return visit. We heard him fire up his engine, roaring in a way that only London cabs can. He left and so did we.
