Instead of street markets selling fruit and vegetables, fabric, clothes and bric-a-brac they’re all swapping to street food concessions. This queue of mainly young men was three times as long as in the photo.
When I was a young house surgeon there was a great street market nearby. After admitting a woman with a turkey bone stuck in her throat I had perfect fruit and vegetables from then on.
Extract from my memoir Woman in a White Coat
It was the day after Boxing Day. Everyone was feeling rather fragile, and my ENT registrar was decidedly hung over.
‘Just speak very quietly,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and sit in the surgeons’ lounge.’
My bleep went.
‘It’s Sister in Casualty. I think you’re on call for the ENT department. Can you come over, Dr Waterman?’
A very large elderly woman was sitting in Casualty, holding the hand of an equally elderly, but extremely thin, man. Jack Sprat, I thought.
‘It’s my false teeth, you see,’ she said. ‘They hurt something awful, and as it was just turkey stew I took them out to eat. No need to chew those small bits. My Sadie made it with the leftovers from Christmas Day. I only had a mouthful when something stuck in my throat. I tried gargling with salt water and ate a couple of pieces of dry bread. Nothing helped. I reckon I’ve got a bit of turkey bone stuck in there. It’s no better this morning. Haven’t been able to eat a thing. Sadie’s a bit lazy, like. She should have been more careful, stripping the turkey carcass.’
‘There, there, dear,’ her husband said, patting her fat little hand. ‘Don’t be hard on our Sadie. She tries her best.’
‘Can you walk over with me to the Ear, Nose and Throat department?’ I asked. ‘Or shall I get someone to take you over in a wheelchair.’
‘I’ll be fine, lovey. I’ll just take it nice and slow,’ she said, as she waddled after me, clinging on to her husband’s arm. Continue reading Where are our street markets?