Sitting here looking at the photographs I’ve taken of Granby Street Market today, colour intensified like my memories, I’m struck by how ordinary this can all seem now it happens every month. But also how it’s definitely not ordinary at all.
Every month now, more or less, I come here for the social life. Not with the intensity of my own fully involved Granby years these days, but for the social life. To wander round or sit talking with friends from here and from all over Liverpool. Of how they’re doing in themselves and their places, of what’s going on and what they’ve got coming up, of where else we’ve each been and what else we’re up to. Plus of course the wider talk of life on the planet and ‘have you eaten yet?’
I love seeing everyone when I come here. It’s the only big social thing I do now, preferring mostly to meet my friends in ones and twos on walks or in quieter places. Even here most conversations will end with ‘I’ll message you’ and we’ll meet again somewhere where we can talk even more.
Still I can’t imagine a time when I won’t be coming to Granby. For these happenstance meetings that always happen of course, but also because it’s Granby. And it took a lot of this sort of talking, over many years, for so many of us to get Granby to how it’s doing today. Which is not ordinary at all.
The road closed then, as much a party as a market, the ritual wonder of a place and its people celebrating themselves and what they’re doing. Well done Theresa, well done Joe, well done everyone. Perfection this good is not easy.
Granby Street Market, a regular and beloved astonishment x.
First Saturday of every month. Of the people, by the people, for the people.