Deadly Flower Market

My French flatmate and I embarked this morning on a quest to find the elusive and dangerous flower market of Columbia Road. Last week, I searched for this market and failed miserably, returning home delirious and severely dehydrated after a determined twenty-six hour jaunt through the city, searching in vain for the mysterious flower market of Columbia Road. I remember only bits and pieces; my friends tell me they found me on Monday morning sprawled on the steps outside the flat, foaming at the mouth and whispering, “But they have lilacs!” over and over again. Last week’s trip was a harrowing one and I was wary to embark on another ill-fated flower quest. But, as my friend said, “I am a physicist and you are an engineer. What could go wrong?” What indeed.

We headed out of the flat at the seemingly-innocuous time of eleven thirty in the morning, taking the underground to Moorgate. Antoine was under the impression Columbia Street was just to the south of the Old Street tube station, so we walked from Moorgate, hoping to spot it on the way. We asked a street sweeper on the way if we were in the right area. He got a far-off look in his one functional eye. “The flower market, you say?” and he shuddered. “You don’t want to go to the flower market. If you value your lives, STAY AWAY FROM THE FLOWER MARKET!” he screeched, and then died on the spot. Actually, he said, “You guys should go down that street, you’re pretty far from the flower market.” We scoffed and continued on our chosen path. We got to where we supposed the market would be, but found nothing but a blood-soaked knife and a rose petal. (Not really. Are you confused by my story yet? I’ll try to stick to the facts. The real story isn't very exciting though.) Anyway, it ended up that the flower market Antoine had found online was actually just a flower shop, which we found! Hooray! And it was closed on Sundays. We did see a stencil graffiti painting by a famous artist named Banksy on a building in the area though, which was fun.

So, we ended up walking toward Liverpool Street, arriving there and instantly stumbling into the largest street market in London, the Petticoat Lane Sunday Market. It stretched for four or five blocks and was very crowded. We asked directions to the flower market from one of the vendors, trying to sound very masculine, and he pointed us in some odd direction. So we wandered for a while longer, and some stuff happened, and we found another market that wasn’t the flower market, and then we found the flower market! Hooray! The real one!

It was really more of a plant market. I bought a cherry tomato plant because it looks like it grows gumballs. I’ve included a picture of it and one of the original flower store we found, and one of the actual flower market. And one of Banksy’s art.

The markets were exciting today. There is a road near Queen Mary known as Brick Lane where we spent some wandering time today. Ethnic restaurants line the thin street on both sides, and the area is rich with art galleries and trendy fashion shops. Apparently the East End of London, where I live, has always been a hotspot for aspiring artists because it has always been one of the poorer districts in London. It is an interesting atmosphere.

So the day ended happily, and now I have a nice new gumball tree for my room. The End. Or is it!? Yes, it is.