As the spring sun thaws the Northern Hemisphere, an ageless ritual unfolds.
People haul out their junk.
Scavengers of the world, rejoice. Flea markets, whether laid out in some Midwestern drive-in movie lot or stuffed into a Moroccan bazaar, are havens for those practiced in the refined art of rummaging through the trivial in search of the reasured. It takes no expert, however, to validate this city's claim to flea market fame. Pros and amateurs My wife, Courtney, and I made for this northwest London haunt on a recent Saturday, the one day of the week when, year-round, the antique shops lining it and a few neighboring streets are supplemented by visiting vendors. In all, more than 1,100 dealers jam a 4-block radius, drawing what Portobello Road veterans say is 1 in 7 tourists visiting London.