Pulling into the car park feels like landing a jumbo jet on a very well-lined runway. You’ll see people circling for a spot like sharks, but with less bite and more anxiety about their frozen peas thawing.
Once you’ve conquered the parking, you face the entrance. It’s a yawning mouth of automatic doors that sucks you in with the promise of Clubcard prices. Beware the entrance foyer: it’s always stocked with seasonal tat—pumpkins in October, chocolate Santa’s in November, and that weird inflatable unicorn that nobody asked for.
The Produce Section: Where Dreams Are Sorted by Price
First stop: the fruit and veg. Now, this isn't your granddad’s greengrocer. The sheer scale is shocking. You can buy a pineapple that looks like it’s been working out and a bag of avocados that are either perfect for today or will turn into rock-hard cricket balls by tomorrow.
I once saw a man negotiating with a cauliflower, picking it up, sniffing it, then putting it back as if it had insulted his mother. The lighting here is aggressively optimistic, making even a sad parsnip look like a celebrity. Remember, the “reduced” section is always a chaotic free-for-all, like a Black Friday sale for bruised bananas.
