Past and present

London has no shortage of historical set-pieces (the Tower of London, Parliament Square, Greenwich), but nowhere does the past feel closer than Smithfield. Sit in the tranquility of West Smithfield (as we did for brunch on Saturday) and you are surrounded by buildings whose purpose would be familiar to our medieval ancestors.

To your north is Smithfield Market. In 1174 the area that became Smithfield was described by William Fitzstephen, clerk to Thomas à Becket, as 'a smooth field where every Friday there is a celebrated rendezvous of fine horses to be sold, and in another quarter are placed vendibles of the peasant, swine with their deep flanks, and cows and oxen of immense bulk.' Ideally suited to the grazing of livestock (then an open space outside the city walls adjacent to the River Fleet), the market evolved organically over the next 150 years, culminating in the City of London gaining market rights under a charter granted by Edward III in 1327. As with the other great wholesale markets (Billingsgate for fish, Spitalfields for vegetables), Smithfield is still managed by the City of London to this day. Unlike the other two, it is still on its original site - albeit in magnificent new buildings designed by Sir Horace Jones in 1866.

Growing up, my best friend's dad was a butcher, working at Smithfield. I rarely saw him. Smithfield is a nocturnal animal, and his working day began at three in the morning, and ended at eleven. While Ian and I played at his house after school, he was generally asleep. I had no idea that he spent his days in one of the only workplaces whose purpose is unchanged in 800 years.

There are, of course, others. Many churches for example; though few have changed as little as St Bartholomew the Great. Look up from your West Smithfield brunch and turn to the East. The half-timbered gatehouse in front of you is tudor (dating from 1595), but its origins are much older. You are looking at the only remaining part of the west wall of St Batholomew's Priory. Like so many of England's priory churches, the building that survives today is a fraction of what was built. The present church of St Bartholomew the Great is simply the choir and crossing of the original church, but it is miraculously unchanged from its foundation in 1123. You may recognise it from Four Weddings and a Funeral or, more recently, T-mobile's wonderful royal wedding spoof.

Next to St Bartholomew the Great is the hospital that shares its name. Like the priory, St Bart's (as it is universally known) was founded by a former courtier of Henry I, a Canon of St Paul's Cathedral called Rahere. Recovering from a fever, he endowed a hospital in gratitude. It is still there, and is the oldest hospital in Britain to still occupy its original site. It grew apart from the priory, and by 1420 the two institutions were entirely separate. None of the original hospital building survives today (perhaps thankfully - an old church may suit modern liturgy, but I'm not sure a twelfth century hospital would suit modern medicine), but the hospital's church, St Bartholomew the Less, retains both 15th century tower and 15th century bells.

Have you finished your brunch yet? Well, order a coffee and, as you sit under the trees, think about what you've seen. The open space you are sitting next to is, in origins, what gave the area its name: "Smooth field", corrupted to Smithfield. Imagine it is 1305. It is a different world. The crowds are gathering for a great public spectacle. The Scottish nationalist William Wallace, against whom the English army has been engaged in battle for nearly ten years, has finally been captured. They did things differently then: the naked Wallace was dragged to Smithfield at the heels of a horse. He was released just opposite where you're sitting, and hanged, drawn and quartered (strangled by hanging but released while he was still alive, castrated, eviscerated and his bowels burnt before him, then beheaded and cut into four parts). His preserved head was placed on London Bridge along with the heads of the brothers, John and Simon Fraser. Truly, London was a very different city.

But, as the crowds disperse, you are left standing in an open space between a priory church, a hospital and a meat market.