It was my first time in London and, strangely, I was more anxious than delighted. It was performance pressure — the list of must-see gardens, monuments, museums, palaces, abbeys and stores was intimidating. Jostling for space in the same list were childhood heroes: dinosaur discoverer Sir Richard Owen, Newton, Sherlock Holmes, Charles Dickens and many more. Tips on ‘dos and don’ts’ were far too many, but there was one that seemed thorougly comforting: A walk through Borough Market, London’s oldest food market.

While a boat trip down the Thames is part of that things-to-do list for tourists, it is indeed a great way to explore many other parts of London if you’ve had too much of the tube. I took the boat to the stop nearest to Southwark in Central London, where the Borough Market is, the most famous landmark near it being the London Bridge. I didn’t know how ‘big’, literally and figuratively, Borough was until I got there. It was chock-a-block with locals, tourists, farmers and buyers. It was gluttony at first sight.

The present Borough Market, a sprawling entity on the southern end of London Bridge, is a successor to the one that was first mentioned in an official document in 1276. Some claim the Borough goes back to 1014. First launched as a street market on what is now Borough High Street, its prosperity became a cause for concern for other London markets. The main reason behind its popularity was the relative cheapness compared with stalls on the north bank of the river.

In the 1600s, King Charles II issued a charter mapping the market’s limits, extending it from the southern end of London Bridge to the former home of The Tabard, the legendary inn from where the pilgrims set out for Canterbury in Geoffrey Chaucer’s acclaimed work. The market was finally abolished in 1756, but the Southwark Cathedral was given the right to set up one in a new spot. A bunch of Southwark residents raised £6,000 and bought a piece of land south of the Cathedral. Known today as The Triangle, it remains at the heart of the market.

I took the steps near the Cathedral leading down to the market, and for a moment stopped to observe the booming space below. Drawing in a long breath, I plunged into the madness that is Borough Market. It’s only once you settle in that the surroundings make sense to you; the blurred sights and whirlpool of smells materialise into gingerbread cookies, rhubarb crumbles and custard puddings. There are over 100 food stalls here. I started to regret the heavy breakfast I’d tucked into before heading out to the Borough. Nevertheless, the place has a way of inducing one of the prime seven sins, gluttony, and I decided to throw my hands up and dive in.

After sniffing around various stalls of meat pastries and pies, I finally settled on one selling aromatic duck wraps with homemade plum sauce at a stall run by a robust, rosy-cheeked lady with a booming country voice. I queued up for the delicacy, handed over the change and dipped my hot wrap in the juicy maroon sauce. The meat was cooked just right — not very tender, not very chewy — and the sauce sweet and fresh. This was just the tip of the iceberg. As I jostled through the crowds, I found myself in a maze of olives, condiments, cheese, confectioneries and charcuterie. Local customers haggled (with great gusto) over fresh catch from the sea, surveyed mounds of lettuce and celery, and studied giant bread loaves. Tourists clicked photos with farm produce and farmers, and those hungry on the hoof tucked in the free samples on offer.

Despite the throngs I was not pushed around. I strolled past endless rows of juicy tomatoes, giant mushrooms and pumpkins, entrepreneurs giving live food demos for their products, workshops and stalls selling exotic meats such as ostrich and kangaroo. I refreshed myself with a tall glass of watermelon juice, extracted from a fruit that I was allowed to pick. And just a few steps from here I chanced upon my greatest find: Truffles. An entire stretch of the big, uneven, pungent, heavenly pieces of the choicest fungi. I was in gourmet heaven.

I ended the day at Borough with the purchase of my dream souvenir, a bottle of precious (I really mean ‘expensive’) white truffle oil. I knew I had to cradle it carefully and keep it safe all evening, for there was a different ‘London by night’ experience arranged by a friend in town. But the prospect of the oil adding a bit of heaven to my humble kitchen back home was enough to inspire me to the task. For once, I was glad I had taken some touristy advice seriously.

Shikha Tripathi is a writer and photographer based in Binsar

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