21/02/09
We have a simple plan for today – shopping and dancing!
We have a lazy morning, well, fairly (which is good because I’m addicted to Twilight now and couldn’t stop reading it last night!), and head for Salamanca Market in Hobart for about noon.
Taken at first glance, the market extends down a street, with stalls of all kinds ranged along the sides. A closer look, diving down into the throng of people, colours, sights, sounds and smells, shows that the market actually extends further than it first appears. It is rather like mixing a summer fair with Camden Lock and putting a big dollop of local culinary excellence in at the last minute! The first stall we notice is a candle stall – huge waxen creations hang and drip from every hook and beam inside the stall. Rainbow chunks vie with stripy splats and stalagmites on the tables and a bundle of ‘wish sticks’ draws you in with their glossy colours. Fortunately for my wallet, my luggage allowance says no and wins the argument.
We have a simple plan for today – shopping and dancing!
We have a lazy morning, well, fairly (which is good because I’m addicted to Twilight now and couldn’t stop reading it last night!), and head for Salamanca Market in Hobart for about noon.
Taken at first glance, the market extends down a street, with stalls of all kinds ranged along the sides. A closer look, diving down into the throng of people, colours, sights, sounds and smells, shows that the market actually extends further than it first appears. It is rather like mixing a summer fair with Camden Lock and putting a big dollop of local culinary excellence in at the last minute! The first stall we notice is a candle stall – huge waxen creations hang and drip from every hook and beam inside the stall. Rainbow chunks vie with stripy splats and stalagmites on the tables and a bundle of ‘wish sticks’ draws you in with their glossy colours. Fortunately for my wallet, my luggage allowance says no and wins the argument.
We head further in, assailed by sights and smells. There are ladies knitting; people selling fruit and vegetables; a local hardwood stall where signs are available for every conceivable eventuality and person; jewellery of dichroic glass and local stones (serpentine, a particular variety found only in Tasmanian mines which bears flecks of purple in the mottled green); honey, particularly of leatherwood and eucalyptus; mead, which is a particularly good one with apples and spices as well as honey; clothes of every sort from local funny tee-shirts to elegant dresses. I nearly buy one of these lovely long silk dresses but decide not to as they’re imports from India and that seems against the spirit of my journey. Hmmm…
There is a pewter stall run by the man who makes all the pieces there; little die cast echidnas, spiders, geckoes, kangaroos, lizards, Devils, dragons, wizards, fairies, chess sets… I drool for a while and we both admire the wares. He even has leather-bound notebooks and mock bladed weapons, like swords and double headed axes. I also feel that I recognise the smell hanging around this part of the market – a light smell of incense, leather, woodwork and smelting.[Mmm… Dress…]
With this realisation this stall makes me feel instantly a geek and at home…
It smells of Maelstrom!
Wandering on we pass more food stalls, some of which smell wonderful; plants; antiques; bric-a-brac; cutlery windchimes; more food…
[Mmm… Dress…]
We stop for a jacket potato and eat it in the park outside Hobart’s parliamentary house, which is a squat, pillared building with neat pale architecture. Apparently it gets scaled a lot by greenies and protesters who find it considerably easier to climb than, say, Westminster! ;)
We pass a few ‘greenies’ around the market – all in the same uniform: barefoot, with dreads, baggy Peruvian trousers and woven raw linen shirts. Most of them have rough linen bags too, and heavy hairbands around their decorated locks. They look rather like hardcore students… Except more tanned and healthier.
[Mmm… Dress…]
Potatoes finished, we wander onwards; this market is practically never ending! There are more stalls, which begin to bewilder me, photographers, cheese sellers (the local ewe’s milk cheese is beautiful – creamy and sweet, with an almost nutty aftertaste, but no bitterness), ice cream stalls, frankfurters, flowers, cards…
[Mmm… Dress… Shut up!]
I give in to the siren call of the silk dress stall and we head back up towards it, pausing to get some pancakes on the way. Not just any pancakes – tiddly little pancakes the size of
a 50c piece, but incredibly tasty and covered in maple syrup and icing sugar… they’re good… Very good! We both end up covered in icing sugar…
Eventually we’re back at the silk dress stall just as they are beginning to close up. Trina and I both pick out hairbands of silk that we like (we’re going to look like greenies now!) but my eye is caught, quite by chance, by a dress buried amongst the others, of delicate mint green flowers and pale cream, with a gold stripe down the middle… The ladies at the stall fuss happily around me, pulling and prodding the dress til it looks perfect… I don’t know what I look like but both they and Trina think it’s mine and that I really ought to have it, plus it makes me feel like some kind of floaty goddess, so I hand over $50 and it’s now happily in its silk bag in my bag…
[Happy sigh]
And we wend our way over to a square behind Salamanca to see if there is any dancing yet… There is a lone iPod sitting on the little cement stage, but no people salsaing yet. We decide to wander off and have a bit of a poke around some other shops and come back in a bit. We wander through a fairy shop (I was expecting something partially Wiccan, partially Goth and a bit unusual, like the Pickled Fairy in Fremantle; what I actually got was a pink fluffy nightmare from the depths of some middle-aged woman’s fevered imagination let loose on what she thought a 6-year-old girl would enjoy… Euch…!) and leave abruptly, then find a blacksmith’s craft store. He is clearly a talented chap, producing stainless steel twists and swirls, organic and celtic, with a very earthy feel to them. He has also produced various fired pieces, which are of various hues of red, depending on how long they have been fired for and how. We both drink in the pretty colours and swirls longingly, before heading back to the square with the ipod again…
When we arrive, there are people dancing there now – Three couples doing la Rueda. We decide to sit this one out but are soon beckoned to join in with the dancing; mostly it is Cuban, but I seem to manage that okay, despite the fact that I do mainly New York (which they don’t seem to do much of here). We join in happily and are whirled about by turns. We even do some Rueda, which is well-led by the guys; I can never remember how to do each bit though don’t think I break the rhythm too badly!
It is warm and sunny as we dance, glorying in the beat and the steps. A light smattering of warm rain tumbles through the sunny sky, cooling us with its delicate touch in the dry air, and a gentle breeze dances around my bare shoulders in the strong sun.
We are both hot and tired after wandering around all day and dancing in the sun, so we decide to make simple pasta and watch films tonight – we get the newest ‘Futurama’ film and ‘The Emperor’s New Groove’. The latter is about a Peruvian emperor who ends up turned into a llama… It’s brilliant, I can’t think why I’ve not seen it before and I will be inflicting it on people on my return. You have been warned.
;)
[Happy sigh]
And we wend our way over to a square behind Salamanca to see if there is any dancing yet… There is a lone iPod sitting on the little cement stage, but no people salsaing yet. We decide to wander off and have a bit of a poke around some other shops and come back in a bit. We wander through a fairy shop (I was expecting something partially Wiccan, partially Goth and a bit unusual, like the Pickled Fairy in Fremantle; what I actually got was a pink fluffy nightmare from the depths of some middle-aged woman’s fevered imagination let loose on what she thought a 6-year-old girl would enjoy… Euch…!) and leave abruptly, then find a blacksmith’s craft store. He is clearly a talented chap, producing stainless steel twists and swirls, organic and celtic, with a very earthy feel to them. He has also produced various fired pieces, which are of various hues of red, depending on how long they have been fired for and how. We both drink in the pretty colours and swirls longingly, before heading back to the square with the ipod again…
When we arrive, there are people dancing there now – Three couples doing la Rueda. We decide to sit this one out but are soon beckoned to join in with the dancing; mostly it is Cuban, but I seem to manage that okay, despite the fact that I do mainly New York (which they don’t seem to do much of here). We join in happily and are whirled about by turns. We even do some Rueda, which is well-led by the guys; I can never remember how to do each bit though don’t think I break the rhythm too badly!
It is warm and sunny as we dance, glorying in the beat and the steps. A light smattering of warm rain tumbles through the sunny sky, cooling us with its delicate touch in the dry air, and a gentle breeze dances around my bare shoulders in the strong sun.
We are both hot and tired after wandering around all day and dancing in the sun, so we decide to make simple pasta and watch films tonight – we get the newest ‘Futurama’ film and ‘The Emperor’s New Groove’. The latter is about a Peruvian emperor who ends up turned into a llama… It’s brilliant, I can’t think why I’ve not seen it before and I will be inflicting it on people on my return. You have been warned.
;)
And finally some salsa, yahayyyy. lol :)
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