My hatred for crowded areas stems from growing up in Beijing, where the high population density meant that there was no personal space in public spaces. To be fair, that also means that I have quite a high tolerance for cramped settings, as I don’t consider it “cramped” until I’m in constant physical contact with strangers. But when it is that “cramped”, I become one of those nasty human beings with a resting b*tch face. That is why, I don’t go to Borough Market, despite the fact that it is undoubtedly the best food market in London. I don’t go despite all the lovely things it offers – all the fresh produce, innovative craft goods, all the colors, all the smells, all the tastes – I don’t go because these wonderful things hide in the midst of irritating humans jammed together like a rush-hour train carriage.
But I missed it. I craved it. So this weekend, instead of sleeping in, we got up early to go to Borough Market whilst the rest of London was hungover. It was wonderful. And I bought wonderful plums to make this plum pie.