COLUMBIA MARKET
SIR,—Columbia Market, that impossible coil of old iron, sooty stonework and misshapen pin' must be retained. Why? No coster would flog bage beneath its battered portals and the 'cloi walk.' Such a foul use of two gentle words.
This eyesore that shades factories, air and must rank with the other monstrosities—Buckiir Palace, Tower Bridge and the Daily Express bu. As an LCC storehouse for barrels and 'add, earns short respite, but when the ladders depal the barrels and blow it up.
Mr. Betjeman has the astonishing gift of i beauty in a junk yard, yet he blinds his senses to modern building around Columbia Road wh kind to the eye. Mr. Betjeman saw Columbia N from his little railway carriage window. Enc Arise, Mr. B., dispense your carriage and app on foot from the other two sides. That mist collection of bits and pieces, knots and wri slabs and holes, those tortuous birds' nests en in dry rot. . . .—Yours faithfully,
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