Market Day

As I suspected they might, certain aspects of Sydney are starting to work their way into my affections. Oddly enough, a stinky pile of fish was one of those aspects. I went along with my roommate and her father, who is visiting from Russia, to the Sydney Fish Market on Saturday. It was an overcast day, which somehow lent charm to the waterside scene. The white masts of the ships docked in the harbour were barely distinguishable from the grey cloud cover of the sky. The umbrellas on the rows of four-benched tables had done nothing to protect the seats from the rain. This did not stop people from sitting on them. One creative individual even hauled a gigantic cardboard box over and used it to soak up the excess moisture before casting it aside and plonking down on the bench.

We arrived early enough to lay claim to a table. Ellina and I went inside to buy lunch whilst her dad guarded our seats. I was pleased to discover that a buttery, battery, flaky serving of fish and chips was actually as cheap as chips. I have no idea what sort of fish was buried beneath the breading, but it was delicious. I also sampled Ellina’s eel and bought my own marinated octopus. The label should have said marinated octopi, since I found a mass of baby octopi when I opened the plastic container. I was a little bothered by the baby-ness and the chewy-ness of this marine delicacy, but I’m glad I tried it.

The stand selling prepared seafood dishes was next to one of several amazing displays of raw ocean life. There were shellfish, octopus tentacles, prawns, eels, lobsters, live crabs, squid tubes, and cuts of fish I’d never before encountered. No walleye or bass at this fish market. The seaflesh was gathered in mounds of beige, grey white, pink, brown, and purple amongst piles of ice. I wandered amongst the selection, absolutely fascinated. This was definitely something cool about Sydney. Although fish markets exist almost everywhere, I’d never before sought one out. And the offerings here were so exotic!

The seafood wasn’t the only thing being sold fresh on site. A produce market, wine store, cheese counter and bread shop shared the space. Despite the more unusual papaya, passionfruit and bok choy available, I couldn’t resist buying a heinously expensive plastic container of massive, juicy-looking blueberries. I also picked up a variety of kiwi that is less hairy and said to be sweeter than the standard fuzzy fruit. I then ogled the selection of cheeses. Edam, mozzarella, brie, camembert, Roquefort, gorgonzola…I was amazed. And I’m not even that fond of cheese.

I decided that I could certainly get used to making separate stops at shops that specialised in each type of food I wanted to purchase. It may take longer, but it would certainly be far more pleasing than slogging through my local supermarket. ANYTHING would be better than the supermarket. It’s dreary, uniform, and always packed with other grim shoppers wearing glazed expressions. I’m quite willing to spend the extra time to find higher-quality food and a more vibrant atmosphere.

After exploring the food markets, we continued on to a goods market. While Paddy’s Market also sells produce, a large portion of it is given over to merchandise. It’s all packed into a cavernous, concrete warehouse area. And it is indeed packed. Each stall is crammed with as many products as can possibly fit into each square inch of space. It’s all cheap and caters to the tourist market. T-shirts, electronics accessories, jewellery, wigs, stuffed animals, shoes, bags, boomerangs, and anything that can possibly be emblazoned with a Sydney or Australia logo make up the inventory. It’s a screaming display of consumerism, which doesn’t suit me at all. Though I must admit I bought a few less-cheesy souvenirs that I intend to give various people for Christmas.

I was in gift-hunting mode at that point, so I decided to visit the Glebe market located just a few minutes from my house. I enjoyed it for its approach to a market, which was the absolute antithesis of Paddy’s Markets. This market was open-air and featured unique goods that were far from cheap souvenirs. They weren’t cheap, for one thing. But they were reasonably priced and interesting. Jewellery, original screen-printed T-shirts that said nothing about Sydney or kangaroos, soaps, leather journals, used books, clothes, and woodworks were spread on the tables in such a way that each individual item was visible.

There was also a pleasant community feel amongst the vendors. A woman selling wood-framed mirrors was lamenting the fact that her stall looked like shantytown.
“Walk past it! I want to see your reaction,” she ordered her neighbour, who sat behind a tasteful display of jewellery. The woman did as she was told, and both sellers burst into laughter at her surprised face.
“Thanks for nothing!” the mayor of shantytown jokingly yelled after me as I eventually walked away with a purchase from her neighbour’s table, but nothing from her own. Nearby, a bookseller was deeply involved in literary conversation with a browser.

I had a good time shopping in that atmosphere. I’m thrilled to have discovered an alternative to Sydney’s ridiculous number of soulless shopping centres, which I’d rather avoid. Like fish markets, this sort of market is not exclusive to Sydney. I used to browse those in the Portobello Road and Camden when I lived in London. But unlike those, the Glebe markets offer a lot that I would actually buy. Unusually for me, it took some effort to remember my uncertain budget and refrain from purchasing everything I liked. This particular market is unique to Sydney and is something I quite like about the city.

As I left the park that houses the market, I realised how pleased I was to wholly enjoy a few things here. Not to say I haven’t appreciated other things I’ve seen and done so far. I have. But my experience has previously been tempered, even tainted, by my unsuccessful job search and the stress that accompanied it. Perhaps having work helped me to enjoy Sydney more. But at the same time, enjoying Sydney more makes my job search seem more worthwhile. My assignment at Coupon Place ends tomorrow, and I’m ready to renew the hunt for work with renewed energy. I just have to leave enough time to sightsee and keep finding those things that make me want to work here.