Charles T. enjoying street life outside his shop

I didn’t bring any food to eat while I was at my market stall in The Shambles today. While there was a lull in customers I went to a nearby cafe where I’d recently been enjoying their special breakfast bap offering. I was disappointed to find the cafe closed so went back to get suggestions from Helena who is the fount of all good knowledge about the town.  On the way I noticed Charles T. chatting outside his shop to John M., the former owner of a long established cafe/restaurant close to The Shambles.

When another break arrived I headed off to Helena’s recommendation for food. As I neared the bookshop I saw that Charles T. was now sitting in a chair in front of his shop, and I thought it would make a good blip scene with him there. I walked over and we had a quick chat and I asked him if he would let me take a picture. He kindly agreed so I walked backwards with my prime lens to set the scene. 

Charles and I met years ago when Helena worked for him in this and his other children’s bookshop, which he has subsequently closed. It so happens that he and I went to the same school in the middle of Surrey back in the 1960s. We hardly knew each other then, and only see each other occasionally now. For many years his bookshop has been an important independent business at the heart of the town centre. A little later a customer at my stall, who was holidaying in Stroud from Lincolnshire, said how much he liked the town. When I asked what in particular he liked, he offered the comment that ‘It has got so many good independent shops’. I agree.

After this interlude with Charles, I suddenly had a bright idea of a shop, the Kendrick Street Deli, which had previously made me very good sandwiches. I was the only customer when I arrived and I chatted to the owner who was really helpful and he made me a fabulous chunky mix of cheese, salad and ham in tasty brown bread from a well known local bakery, which I ate when I got back to the market. 

I enjoyed the day, met a lot of interesting people and sold a print of the steam engine ’Flying Scotsman near Stroud’ to a boy who was about 8 years old. He asked his dad if he could have it as his birthday present to hang on his bedroom wall. I was delighted.