Not the Fruit Market

Feeder Road, Bristol.

"I want to make some strawberry jam." Announced Ms T. Excellent I thought, I like strawberry jam, it won't involve me, and I can go off to do my own thing.

"Let's go to a pick your own." Ms T suggested.

"Oh." I responded as I realised that it did involve me. "I will have a look on the internet to see where's close." This was in the hope that I could buy some time to come up with an excuse. I didn’t fancy walking around a field with a dog for hours while Ms T picked some fruit.

“The closest to Bristol is a farm near Chew Valley Lake.” I helpfully proposed, “But Oh dear, it looks like it’s a little too early in the season. Why don’t we walk down to the Fruit Market instead?” I was very pleased with myself, I like walking around St Phillips, there are many photo opportunities and I have never taken any images of the fruit market.

“Ok then, lets go.” said Ms T and off we went. It was a long walk to Bristol Fruit Market, but a pleasant one in good company. There were indeed many opportunities for today’s Blip.

On arrival we noticed a sign that said, “Members of the public not allowed on site”. I was sure this was wrong as I know many friends who have visited the site. Ms T went to talk to the security guard and came back and told me that we could enter, but only with a high vis vest.

“I asked if I could borrow the guard’s jacket, but he said no. Lets go.” Ms T said slightly disappointedly.

“Why don’t you buy one?” I suggested.

“They don’t have any.” She replied.

I know Ms T well and I know that she can sometimes be economical with the truth when it comes to spending money.

“Go and buy one,” I said pointing at the large sign telling visitors that jackets are for sale for £5, “I haven’t walked this far to go home empty handed.”

Ms T bought a jacket and entered the building. I waited outside with the dog. I rarely go into shops these days, I always seem to be waiting outside with the dog. Fifteen minutes later Ms T returned looking very pleased with herself.

“Look, this only cost £6!” she said happily.

“What the ****!” I said with an incensed grin on my face. “How the hell are we going to get home?”

In her hands Ms T held an enormous box. Inside were twenty punnets of strawberries.  After a brief negotiation we decided the best course of action would be to get a train home. There would still be some walking, but the train would take the strain (the hills would be avoided too).

I didn’t get any images of Bristol Fruit Market, but hopefully I will have home made strawberry jam on my toast tomorrow morning. Instead here’s an image of a tunnel that goes under Temple Meads train station. I should also point out that this is my version of events, I’m sure if you asked Ms T she would tell you a different story.