The lane where the river noise drops away

The workshop sits at the end of a lane where the river noise finally drops away. He has been bending these handles by hand for thirty-one years, and he does not look up when we arrive. There is a rhythm to the work that does not pause for visitors.

The bamboo comes from a grove two hours north. It arrives in long splits, still green, and spends six months drying under the eaves before it is touched. The maker says the colour that comes from waiting is the only colour worth having.

Each basket takes four days. The handles are the hardest part — bent by hand over a wooden form, bound with a cord the maker twists himself, then left to set for a week. There are no shortcuts. The ones made quickly do not hold.

We bought eight. They sold in a day.