When in Rome, do Asda Romans do

My puns are slipping quickly, many apologies.

I called Mr C's family just as the mission started, and it turned out I was a bit too enthusiastic and a list had not yet materialized. Mr C wanted an shop from Asda, so I made it a short bike ride to give some more thinking time. As I arrived there was a sizable, but swiftly moving queue, so I had plenty of time for another call. I was thoroughly impressed by the epic feast of a shopping list: Bertolli butter, rocket, plum tomatoes, cucumber, eggs, double cream, strawberries. As I waited in the queue outside, my first Plane Tree throat tickle of the season made an appearance, which I tried my best to subdue by simply not breathing, to avoid suspicious glances. Turns out, that doesn't work for too long. Once inside, having forgotten quite how enormous Asda is, I slalomed across the ample aisles, making sure to find Mr C the biggest collection of strawbs. Sadly the packaging didn't quite survive the bike ride and some strawberries comically jumped around in my basket, nearly escaping their Eton Mess destiny. I foolishly forgot to take any pictures, so please accept a snap of this colourfully decorated Acton bus stop..