Angel

On my way home today, I noticed a banner advertising a weekend "French market" across from Angel station, so I decided to have a peek. The market was teeny tiny, and although the crêpes smelled delicious (with a queue that showed I wasn't the only one who approved of the aroma), the inclusion of leather belts and wallets amongst the goods for sale lent the market more of a tatty feel than the artisan ambiance that the banner suggested. Still, the stalls added some temporary personality to the impersonal outdoor mall that surrounds it. Although I've walked through the mall many times, usually on my way to the Sainsbury's directly behind it, I don't think I've used any of the businesses within the complex in the time we've lived nearby. Oh, wait, that's not entirely true--we visited the Vue cinemas on the upper level for the first time earlier in the week to see a freebie screening of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly--I read the book when it came out ten years ago and was impressed with the way the heartwrenching story translated into film--well worth seeing. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the market:

The sight that towered over the market's cheesemonger is now so familiar to me that I barely give it any thought, but I still remember my first thought about it, which was that it really pushed the boundaries of cheesiness! Although the mall is called N1, after the postcode in which it resides, it makes the most (too much) of its association with nearby Angel station, with a giant suspended halo at one end and this sculpture at the other end:

Subtle, no?