Minneapolis

Minneapolis is without doubt my favourite city hitherto; the only thing more charming than its manicured suburbs and quirky high streets are the Minnesotans themselves. On our way downtown we drove through Fulton, a neighbourhood so full of colour and character that we felt compelled to stop.

Like a moth to a flame, I was immediately drawn to the eclectic stack of letters and words that were piled up outside Hunt and Gather. Not only is this store a great place to find design on a dime, it’s the place to find antique skis, retro lampshades and the entire wardrobe for the cast of Grease. Whether you have a penchant for pendants or a fondness for fedoras, I guarantee that after an hour in here, even the most voracious vintage hunter will be sated. Unfortunately for Lucan, my servitude to the unique and obscure is without direction, and so it was almost three hours before we left. Nevertheless, it is a testament to meticulous foraging that the jumper I bought has been worn every single day since - and of that, I am very proud.

Nextdoor was a humble little honey store where we were treated to an encyclopaedic description of how its is made, stored and sold across the world. The owner, a shy little fella, was so passionate about his craft that it was almost tangible and most definitely contagious. He encouraged us to try at least eight different flavours before we settled on a jar of hazelnut flavoured goodness. Food shopping is a dangerous game to play when you’re hungry; but then again, shopping of any kind is dangerous when the state is tax-exempt.

Our curiosity got the better of us when we slipped into Vinaigrette, a store specialising in bespoke oils and vinegars. Its splendour distracted us from our grumbling stomachs, but it was the fabulous sales assistant that sustained our intrigue for a solid 90 minutes. After an hour and a half of non-stop laughter, he handed us two free bottles of vinegar and a bottle of oil; with the words “safe travels” written across them. This act of kindness was reciprocated with a thank you, followed by another and many more beyond that as I leant over the counter to give him a hug. We’re now half way through our pear vinegar and already wishing we’d bought a gallon of the stuff. Ahh hindsight...