The markets on Bell and Church Streets were my locals for all the years I lived in Little Venice, which numbered about 12. And oh- what fun I used to have there. And all for free, which was fine, as I had no money. This sleepy panoply of stalls and shops held such magic, such power that, once touched, your life was forever transformed.
Nothing was ever staccato or abrupt. There was never the feeling of having to get on with things: each shopkeeper or stall owner engaging in a good old-fashioned `natter`. I began to refer to these peregrinations as `walkabout`: at first resenting the time spent, but soon giving way to the seduction of a kind of life which revealed itself in this manner. At worst it was an education. At best it was a joy.
Remarkable about this market is the element of surprise: you simply never know what you will find at the stalls or in the shops, and should not be put off by surface jumble. A bit of hunting reveals some of the most extraordinary finds.
Having been away for a few years, I was keen to visit my old haunts to see what had changed and what was the same.
Tim Meaker, who has run the Archive Bookstore for the past 25 years, told me the fabulous military bookshopw hich occupied the lower ground floor of the building next door, has gone and so too the bike shop which was there for ages; and that the lady who sold watercolours of local scenes depicting Paddington and Little Venice, has sold up and gone back to Ely.
According to Tim, the Bell Street market is feeling the pinch from the very up-market Paddington Waterside Development and traders are being forced out of business having been `inspected` to death. it will not be long, he opines, before the market is closed down altogether. The issue is currently in debate and I am asked to do my bit in support. Gladly, Tim, gladly.
The Bell sTreet cafe is gone; but the Italian cafe remains and there are two new Arab coffee bars which charge twice the price and are not as nice.
Stephen Foster`s book shop remains one of the finest in London, run by the same owner for donkey`s years and proffering such rarities as a Russian Baedeker and a 17thc Camden Britannica. I remember someone whom I was taking around the market actually being able to pick up a rare 18thc `city` St. Petersbury Baedeker worth £300.
Just around the corner from the book shop is Cosway Street, previously disreputable, now merely drab: with its surviving terrace of artisan cottages. Marie Belloc-Lowndes used the area as the scary setting for `The Lodger`, which Hitchcock transposed to Bloomsbury. Fronting the street is Hardwick`s magnificent Christchurch, where, in centuries past, work fairs used to be held in the forecourt, and which for many years was empty and then was home to a small publishing firm before becoming the head office for one of the world`s laargest shipbroking and shipping firms. The interior, one of the finest Georgian interiors in London, is incongruous with the venue. But the staff appear respectfully appreciative of their resplendent surroundings.
People forget that Lisson Grove was originally home to the St. Johns Wood artist colony and on Rossmore Road, near Sylvia Young`s theatre academy, there is a heritage plaque commemorating the red brick residence of painter Benjamin Haydon ((1786-1846) and sculptor Charles Rossi (1762-1839).
Always good for a coffee, a lager or a G&T, the Perseverance pub on Shroton Street has not suffered any exterior changes, but the place did change owners a few years ago and the wonderful local photos have gtiven way to star shots of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin.
The story goes that as a Camden councillor George Bernard Shaw was responsible for introducing public lavatories into his borough and this was adapted by other local authorities. The Church Street loo in a sort of Wendy house is worth noting but the tiled panorama of street market life has been removed when the interior was re-fit whilst I was away. Sad that.
Sahw`s connection with this market relates not to the loos, however, but to Ranston Street, previously Charles Street, where around the turn of the century a row of tumbledown cottages was demolished. Still a rather shabby row of houses, sheltering the poor and lower middle-class, Ranston harks to its past with lots of red brick and unique cobbled thoroughfare. Apparently, a girl living in one of the tumbledown cottages was `bought` into service by the editor of `The Pall Mall Gazette` as an experiment to ascertain if it were possbile? Having got wind of the circumstances, Shaw appropriated the plot, cleaned it up and rendered it as the basis of `Pygmalion`.
The ps of the story, however, is that the current flower girl (or woman) running the stall outside Tesco on Church Street is anything but timid, and on many occasions cursed out my pedigree Springer for whimpering or barking in my absence.
Meandering along Lisson Grove I note the disappearance of the Chesterfield sofa shop. All that remains is the sign, which is rather funny, since the new place specializes in lighting fixtures. What a rare little place the old shop was: displaying those wonderful button leather sofas which belong in a Sherlock Holmes drawing room or perhaps a James Bond film. The man who used to run it always had a tale to tell, but, according to gossip, had had enough and a few years ago sold up and returned to Australia.
The tale of this whole area and the growth of the markets due to the coming of the railroad is on display in the rear and Harewood Avenue end of Marylebone station (which is as it was and doubled as Liverpool Lime Street in `A Hard Day`s Night`) The representative photo display, sadly reduced in size since last I viewed, still has one great photo of the docking platform (now flats) where cargo was unloaded and which cart horses transported to market.
The old station hasn`t lost its character, despite the introduction of food kiosks (the cheese shop is a decent addition) and you can still see much of the original structure in the brick work and wooden fittings whilst viewing the photos. And the old station pub has changed in a bit in over one hundred years.
Saturday really is the day to catch the market at its most buoyant; but even on a sleepy Thursday afternoon at 4pm its charm is seductive.
The Gallery of Antique Costumes and Textiles with its terra cotta file floor gives the feeling that you have entered the cave of Ali Baba and the charm (plus expertise) of the staff does not go amiss. Specializing in everything from clothes to coats to curtains to spreads and most of the stock is French, English or American and from the 20s, 30s or 40s. A particularly lovely piece of cut silk velvet catches my eye and I am told the cost is around £400.
Amusing is the recollection that this shop, a fixture on Church Street for 20 years, actually began life as one of the arcades in Alfies, just across the street.
Like a trip to a fun fair, a gambol through Alfies is a chocolate box fantasy come true. Housing in the Victorian Jordans department store, Alfies, which opened in 1976, is the largest arcade in the country proferring three floors of nostalgic art, antiques, vintage fashion and 20thc design. Over 200 stalls abound.
A favourite stall has been the display of kitchenalia occupying the entire lower ground floor and having the most comprehensive range of post-war artefacts I have seen anywhere. Alas, the owner pakced up and left, and whilst there is some kitchenalia on the upper floors, the lower ground (a wonderful venue for this stuff) is currently being renovated.
Also gone is the fabulous popular memorabilia stand which combined autographs of Napoleon with Beatles gear at some of the lowest prices in London. The owner Paul was a real trasure and often took stuff on consignment to see what he could do for you.
But the vintage clothing stalls remains with its array of antique textiles and is well worth a browse just to get a smile from the owner who resembles Mike Nichols in his prime.
Patricia Harvey`s Jack Russell, Alfie, now age 7, used to bark at my Springer Whitlock, and still patrols the street vigilantly. The last I saw he was tucking into an unfinished sandwich which someone had thrown onto the pavement.
Antique shops proliferate on Church Street and whilst a couple have given way to new owners, the majority have been in the same hands for over a decade, maybe longer. Most are yonks cheaper than Kensington Church Street, such as North West 8 which is selling for a fraction of the cost an apothecary chest from a Norfolk chemist shop.
Beverley has some lovely Coalport whilst Just Desks has a rolltop Edwardian keyhole for £2,000 which looks too big for your flat but which, according to the owner, can be made detachable and therefore easily transportable.
Just before reaching |Joel and Son i pass the Church Street library where the Old West London Theatre once stood and where Charlie Chaplin made a debut in a small part in 1904.
On Church Street since 1980, Joel and Son is probably the market`s best-kept secret. The owners, still visible on the shop floor, are scrupulously courteous and give perhaps the best deals on fabric in town. The day I wandered by they had just sold a lovely piece of raw silk for £14 to one very happy customer.
It is not uncommon to see any number of famous faces dashing out of the shop with a bolt of Ungaro or Dior fabric under their arm.
A foggy day in London town- maybe. But the Church and Bell Streets markets are still bright, breezy and have lost none of their charm.
Sandra Shevey runs walks around London`s surviving cockney markets. In addition to the Bell and Church Street market, she covers 4 other. Info at sandra_shevey@yahoo.com
