By 11 AM, the crowds are thinning, and the sellers are getting tired. This is the golden hour. They’ll practically pay you to take that box of jigsaw puzzles away.
You leave with a car that smells like a cardboard box and a backseat full of treasures you definitely didn't need. A wooden duck, a single roller skate, and a book on 17th-century plumbing? Yes, please.
A Little Word of Warning
Don’t expect a boutique. Expect a field in London that has been magically transformed into a chaotic bazaar of one person’s trash and another’s absolute joy.
You will get your hands dirty, you will overhear a man describe a teapot as “Killarney pottery, love, very rare,” and you will love every second. It’s not clean. It’s not polished. It’s real.
