Watching the sunshine's light flicker & jump its way across the page of my newspaper on Wednesday morning, propped up against the side of my train carriage, one that was averagely busy considering the planned tube strike that was inspiring a siege mentality in many fellow commuters, I had felt hopeful for the day ahead. Two hours later stood amongst tables of books batting their covers in the wind, a rectangle of relentless rain visible through the shop's open doorway, that brief moment of optimism seemed somewhat misguided. I was, and continue to be, however, grateful for memories of brighter days to sustain me beneath gloomy skies - in particular, it is thoughts of the beautiful crisp, sunny day that Andrew & I enjoyed on Sunday in Battersea, that kept me from losing feeling in my hands.
Vintage VW & old street signs on our way to the sale - Knick-knacks & prints in mismatched frames - Rows & rows of tempting angora & cashmere - Cakes & pasties aplenty
Honestly, casting a weary glance over the week's weather forecast, the two of us weren't hopeful that the rain would hold off for long enough for us to embark on our adventure, forty minutes down the overground line & (-gasp-) south of the river, but it was to clear skies & smiling faces that we awoke on Sunday morning. We made bowls of porridge & cups of tea to sup from while dressing in layers of knitwear & socks & scarves, bundling books for the journey & my fully charged camera into tote bags (empty ones for filling tucked in too - top tip!) & got comfortable in our seats on a train that would eventually wind its way into Clapham Junction. Once there, timing our arrival in accordance to the fifty pence entry come half past one, Andrew & I followed an increasingly familiar, if scenic, route from the station, past rows of pretty terraces that we mused we may well inhabit ourselves some day, under the rattling railway bridges & up onto the stretched length of Battersea Park Road & a surprisingly queue-less school playground where the boot sale is held.
Andrew's cheese & onion delicacy - My vegetable samosa - Sunshine! (promise this striped turtleneck isn't the only top I own) - Andrew in his dream jacket
While many (bloggers particularly) may well impose strict rules of dress (my Doc Martens & vintage fur may well have unintentionally marked me out as the target market for the hoardes of antique brooches & scuffed vinyl sleeves) & conduct (systematic progress stall by stall, not betraying enthusiasm for particular items), Andrew & I have always had a rather more laissez faire approach - me allowing my magpie instincts to lead me towards chintzy costume jewellery & frayed denim on the ends of clothing rails, Andrew eyeing up heaps of woollen jumpers & precariously stacked piles of much-loved hardbacks. It wasn't long before my heart leapt at the sight of a green & blue checked sleeve in the midst of a heaving rack of clothes & I was not-so-subtly motioning for Andrew's attention with raised eyebrows & a few pointed jerks of the head. Even an initially crestfallen discovery of the printed 's' on the label could not distract me from ceaselessly twirling it on its hanger, admiring its deeply pigmented print, heavy cotton feel & simple smock fit. I was smitten & at just eight pounds, I gleefully bundled it into my bag, already imagining the myriad pairings it would suit, with a mustard yellow jumper & knee high socks, polka dot tights & grey knit cardigan.
Buoyed by my bargain, the two of us leisurely ambled from stall to stall, dreamily eyeing up retro casserole dishes & framed butterflies for future flats, thumbing at the cuffs of suede jackets & peering through the lenses of old-fashioned cameras. Our breakfast now far behind us, as is tradition, Andrew bought us a few homemade treats from a Battersea Boot Sale regular, a cheese & onion pasty for him & a couple of veggie samosas for me, taking note that we ought to try the carrot cake on our next visit. Adding to the increasing collection of knitwear we've acquired from SW11, Andrew found a beautiful cream jumper with black spots & heavily ribbed, striped cuffs for a tenner &, of course there is always 'The One That Got Away', is now on the hunt for a lightweight linen jacket like the one he tried on but, sadly, couldn't stretch to the £40 price tag.
- Too cold for anything more than this candid outfit shot in my new old coat - Battersea in the sun - 'Il Molino' - Lovely mosaic typography in the doorway of a local charity shop
Once certain that we had scoured every square inch of the sale, it was towards our favourite local cafe, recommended by Battersea bred blogger Jazmine of Jazzabelle's Diary - thanks Jaz!- 'I'l Molino' that we wandered. Perched on a corner of Battersea Park Road, 'Il Molino' was the perfect retreat from the cold, squeezing through the front door into the warmth of the Italian-run cafe, cluttered with chairs & tables, walls lined with tins of organic beans & produce that features in their sandwiches, smatterings of customers propped up under lampshades with Sunday supplements & steaming cups of fresh coffee. Bags, coats & jumpers piled onto the backs of pine chairs, the two of us, initially & inevitably struck by indecision with a plethora of paninis & lines of loaf cakes reflected in our pupils, plumped for a shared can of limonata, a halved, toasted baguette filled full of mozzerella pearls, baby tomatoes & creamy avocado & two indulgent slices of a moist, moreish banana & toffee cake.
Shiny shoes waiting to cross the road - Open sign - Aforementioned cake - Bar of the cafe looking out onto Sunday strollers
Reluctantly retreating from the warmth after a restorative lunch with a cup of coffee each, Andrew & I walked towards the river in the dusk, Battersea Park's pathways already illuminated by its Narnia-esque streetlamps, bare trees setting stark silouhettes against the darkening sky. According to our habit of almost directionless wandering, it took both of us by surprise to see the glow of Albert Bridge like the draw of a funfair looming ahead of us, radiant & golden, setting the Thames beneath it into almost Caribbean tones of peach pink & lilac. Directly across this unfamiliarly wide stretch of river, the row of buildings reflected in the water reminded me of Amsterdam's picturesque canalside houses, uniformly four or five storeys each with pretty ledges & plenty of windows looking out onto cyclists below. These moments of literal & philosophical reflection can be rare in a great metropolis such as London, so these opportunities to appreciate the ridiculousness of being able to live in such a wonderful place of such varied beauty should be treasured.
Andrew in his new jumper & full of cake - Lopsided lampshade in 'Il Molino' - Beautiful redbrick houses walking towards Battersea Park
All the same, with a return to work at seven o'clock the next morning ahead of me, we eventually & reluctantly wound our way through Sloane Square & to Victoria from where we got the train home to spaghetti & bed, satisfied after a long afternoon, full to the brim with fresh air & fond memories.
It's almost difficult to believe that that day was almost a week ago now but I've plenty to look ahead to both this weekend &, of course, celebrating St. Valentines which will be duly documented (spoiler: it may well include fondue!) this time next week so do check back.
Have you had any boot sale bargains of late?
Speak soon - O.
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