To buy a fat pig
Saturday, September 28
Markets in Nice and Barcelona
After our busy day in Eze and Monaco, we had a welcome free morning in Nice before we had to catch our flight to Barcelona. Judy, Tori and I headed out the door, around the corner, and down the street to go to the market. This market is known to many as a Flower Market, and that’s perhaps what most tourists actually buy when they’re there. But it’s so much more. In the first place, it’s a real market for locals who want to buy fresh food, not something set up for tourists. At least, it was originally. The set-up has changed some since 1985 when we first went there, so no one was cooking socca (flat cakes of chickpea flour and olive oil) atop an empty drum with a charcoal fire inside. But I did see what looked like the back half of a tuna at one stand. I remember watching people buy fresh tuna steaks in the Nice market, sliced right off a fish about that size. I was glad to see that was still possible. Talk about fresh seafood!
Now the market set-up more closely resembles Pepper Place market in Birmingham, with neat rows of stands where we saw attractive displays of flowers, odds and ends, fruit-bearing olive trees in pots, and all sorts of items that were clearly meant for the tourist trade. Most of the individual sellers were there with local produce and other food items, though, and that hasn’t changed for decades, I’m sure. We saw a display or two of heritage tomatoes that could have been seen at Pepper Place, we saw enough local cheeses to make my mouth water, and many different types of olives and mushrooms. You can get a much better idea of the range of items on sale in the market in Nice by visiting this page of photographs. It’s amazing how much the fresh food attracted our senses and our lenses, when we weren’t hungry at all. We took a lot of photos there, and you can see them on the photo page for Nice and Monaco.
Just a block away from the main market, there were additional tables and booths set up in the Cours Saleya, next to the restaurant where we had eaten the night before. One of the more entertaining tables had a general miscellany, including a few bells and what appeared to be the contents of a your favorite uncle’s tool chest. That table was next to one manned by a small group of what I can only describe as “little old ladies,” selling crèches of every size.
After we all spent a little time at the market, we were driven to the airport in time to stand in line and wait for our flight to Barcelona. After we arrived, we got to the Hotel Principal, where we found the WiFi password was “Principal8.” There was a harmonium in the second lobby, but I didn’t see if it actually had a “Principal 8” on it. When we got to our rooms, we discovered that this time, KC and Mark had a room with a mini-balcony next to our mini-balcony. Too cute for words: our little fenced off balconies were at least four inches higher than the surface of the patio they fronted. I think they were meant to keep us off the thick glass panels set into the patio—put there to allow light into the dining below.
After spending maybe 10 minutes checking out the room, we headed out for Las Ramblas. Far too many people in one place for some of us. It was fun to stop along the way and buy a few souvenirs. Fun things like “penis peppers” for some friends. I do wonder what those will look like when they grow, and what the neighbor will say when they see them growing in the front flower beds. We headed for one of our goals: a market a kilometer long street absolutely crowded with booths and tourists like us. This was La Boqueria, the large indoor food market that has been there in Barcelona for centuries. This was without doubt one of the largest indoor food markets I’ve ever seen, and the variety of meats, vegetables, fruits, cheeses, and just about anything edible was staggering. And the whole thing was wall to wall people, some actually shopping, and a few (like us) just gawking. And it went on and on.
And on and on.
And on. All indoors. I think the only comparable place Judy and I have visited was in Istanbul. In fact, there’s no doubt in my mind. I’m inclined to ask a rhetorical question here: Is there anything else to compare to those two places? Enormous indoor markets, with enough booths, vendors, and (no doubt) the occasional malefactor to scare most tourists who know not what they’re doing? Maybe. I doubt it, but I must admit my experience is limited. You can check out the pictures we made that afternoon on the Barcelona photo page.
Anyway, we made one other detour, into the Eglesia de Betiem. Mark and I rarely miss the chance to look into a church of course, and this one had some really beautiful chapels, a lovely Madonna and Child, and, unfortunately, a rather nondescript organ in the gallery. Looking back, that was perhaps the best part of our walk. Really a nice quiet time, sorely needed after such a busy travel day.
Eventually we found a place for our first meal in Spain, where it was inevitable that we tried tapas, a local wine, and a Spanish beer. After reading travel guides and watching more than a few videos of tapas bars, this was just a little disappointing in its atmosphere. We got lots of food, but it was all crowded onto the table at one time. Sort of reminded me of going to one of those really wretched Chinese buffet places, the ones where they have a table of chocolate pudding and Vanilla wafers for dessert. But I have to say, the food was good, and so was the wine. Another pleasant end to a day filled with new experiences..