You walk between market stalls, eyes darting to and fro (as if watching a tennis match) whilst you try to judge the gourmet produce and watch your step at the same time. It’s a dangerous one-step, stop, two-step, stop, shuffle. You were smart enough to arrive early, but as 10:30am approaches on a Saturday morning the market become an increasingly claustrophobic crush of humanity. Babies squeal, shoppers amble past with bagfuls of vegetables and a galaxy of scents enter your nose as locals and tourists alike hurry to bargain with traders for the finest truffle oils.
Posted on May 8, 2017