Summary
WITHOUT for a second wishing any of the poor stallholders who lost their livelihood on the Camden Lock fire to feel aggrieved, I can't help being a bit ambivalent about the conflagration. For those of us who grew up in north London, in the 1970s, the Lock was a hippy-dippy kind of a place, where longhairs flogged mung bean stews and knocked-off army surplus in an old parking lot.
The only drugs in evidence were the odd cube of giggly Oxo.See the full content of this document
Extract
Camden's Premier Tat Mart
In recent years the stre...
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