Philobiblon

I was standing this evening at the door of Bloomsbury Waitrose, watching the rain plummet down. It felt like the Bangkok wet season. Water was tumbling off the awnings and overwhelming the drains, reminding me of the mountains of Bali.

I had been trying to buy some asparagus. There was aspargus from Peru. There was asparagus from Thailand. Then when I dug around, on the top shelf, hidden away, there was some asparagus from the UK.

Sometimes it is hard to avoid despair.