golborne road market
street photography
with my neighbourh graham
He still visits markets constantly, often a different one every day, browsing, buying, talking to dealers, picking things up and turning them over in his hands.
Graham is retired now, but he spent most of his life as an antique dealer, and retirement hasn’t taken him far from that world.
“If you ever want to buy silver, tell me first. I’ll tell you if the price is fair.”
I have never heard Graham speak badly of anyone. He won’t tell me not to trust someone.
The closest he gets is something along the lines of: “I might have another look around before buying that.”
He knows what is worth looking at, what is worth buying, and who is worth buying from.
As a result, he seems to know an improbable amount about the city — its buildings, corners, old businesses, odd details and stories — and, fortunately for me, he is always delighted to tell them.
“He’s a good dealer. Always has nice things. Fair prices.”
Antiques, however, are only one of the many lives Graham seems to have had. He has been a restorer, a civil servant, a university lecturer and a guide for American visitors wanting to discover London.
I’ve followed him around a few markets by now, as well as on several other wanderings through London.
These photographs are from our latest expedition to Golborne Road Market.
By the time we were getting towards the top of Portobello Road, I spotted a man I would later learn was called Alberto.
He looked like the real thing. Proper old-school rocker. Black boots, black skinny jeans, a T-shirt and a denim waistcoat, which I later heard him happily remark he could finally wear again now that the heat had eased off. Silver chains hanging everywhere, necklaces, several rings on almost every finger, a serious mane of hair and thick black sideburns running halfway down his face.
I immediately thought: I have to photograph this man.
So I walked up to him and asked, “Excuse me, can I take a picture of you?”
“No.”
He was nice about it. He could easily have been rude, but he just smiled and said no.
Fair enough.
Graham and I carried on up the road, stopping every few meters as usual. Saying hello to people, looking through things, picking things up, chatting to one dealer and then another.
Eventually we reached the stall of a man whose name I can’t remember. He had a wonderful moustache and was sitting there very peacefully amongst his antiques.
He and Graham exchanged one of those very understated greetings people give when seeing each other is completely unsurprising. Not exactly an enthusiastic reunion, more like the “morning” you give a colleague you see every day at work.
He had a friendly face, so I asked if I could take his picture.
“Of course,” he said, smiling.
And then, very conveniently, he went straight back to what he was doing and behaved as though I wasn’t there.
I took the first photograph.
And then Alberto reappeared.
He had been making his way up the street too, completely at home there, stopping at stalls and greeting people as he went.
So I couldn’t resist.
“See? Some people are nicer. They let me take their picture.”
Alberto looked over at his friend.
“You don’t mind her taking your picture?”
“Of course not,” came the answer.
I gave Alberto a look that basically said: well, come on then.
He gave in.
“If it’s with him, I’m in.”
Afterwards he introduced himself properly, made a few slightly cheeky comments, and asked if I would send him the photograph by email. He told me he plays in bars around Camden and promised to reply with the names of the places, so I could come and photograph him there.
Apparently, he’ll be very expressive for me so I can get some great shots.
So perhaps, one of these days, here will be photographs of Alberto in action.
July 2026
