Where I Write in London #2 Camden Town
Welcome to Where I Write in London, a blog where I take my laptop somewhere new and report back. The coffee (or wine), the atmosphere, the distractions—I'll cover it all. Come along and grab a seat.
#2 Camden Town
About a fifteen-minute walk from home, Camden Town is Primrose Hill's younger sister who dropped out, joined a band, got herself tattooed and pierced, dated someone inappropriate, and now sells jewellery out of a van.
I went on a Saturday, which was both brave and stupid. Camden on a sunny weekend is not a place that encourages concentration but it certainly gives me inspiration. It's packed — tourists with phones out, locals weaving between them, people busking, and the smell of about thirty different cuisines hitting you at once.
Camden Market is where cravings go to get confused. You can have Ethiopian, Korean, Argentine, Jamaican, Venezuelan, Japanese, and a full English within about twenty metres of each other. The stalls are piled high, people are eating on their feet, and the decision paralysis is real.
And then there's everything else they're selling. Vintage band t-shirts, leather jackets in every colour. Chunky silver rings laid out on velvet, incense, crystals, journals, souvenirs, prints of London landmarks drawn entirely in cats. A stall dedicated to nothing but hot sauce. Then there's the super random stuff. A taxidermied crow, a neon sign that says "My Buffalo," and a brass doorknob shaped like a hand. Someone must be buying this. I just don't know who.
People Watching
Most areas in London have a type, but Camden has every type. Within ten minutes of sitting down I saw a man in six inch platforms walking a greyhound, a tourist posing with a giant inflatable alien, someone filming themselves eating a burrito the size of their head, a busker absolutely nailing Stevie Wonder, and a man carrying a full-sized fetish-clad mannequin through the crowd. Everyone here looks like they're in the middle of a story.
The Overheard Things
"Mate, that's not vintage, that's just junk."
"The guy said it was one of a kind, but I've seen six of them already."
"I don't know what I just ate but I want more of it."
"Do you think that pigeon is following us? I think it's following us."
"Check your pockets. Check them now. I'm not joking, my phone is gone."
The Writing Part
I spent my first two hours writing by the canal, putting finishing touches on Captain’s Orders, book 3 in The Maiden Voyage Series. Step away from the market and you'll find the canal, and suddenly everything slows down. Narrowboats are lined up along the water, painted in mustard yellow, deep red, and blue, one covered entirely in flowers. People sit along the towpath eating whatever they grabbed from the stalls, legs dangling over the edge.
Then I moved to a coffee shop in the middle of it all and got an idea for another romcom, so I spent the following two hours jotting down ideas until the battery on my Mac ran low. I don’t want to give anything away yet, but I will give you the title: Sloane Archer Gets What She Deserves. I’m already having a lot of fun with this, and ooooh, she totally gets what she deserves!
Practical notes
If you want the full experience, go on a Saturday. Find a spot along the canal or pick a coffee shop on a side street away from the market. Yes, it’s crowded but there are so many bars and coffee shops that you will find a spot that works for you. Eat first because you won’t be able to concentrate with those smells. Oh, and watch your wallet and your phone. Pickpockets love it here as much as you will.
Next time, I'll take you somewhere different!