Sunday market

Such a stunning autumn day. True to its promise at breakfast – looking down the harbour, a suggestion of mist draping the Tararuas – the day unfolded windless and sunny, warm but with a crisp undertone, the whisper of things to come.  The sort of day when minds turn to gardening, and harvesting. And so this morning I decided it really was time I visited the Sunday market in upper Willis Street. It’s one of those things I’ve long been aware of (sometimes, to be sure, as a mild annoyance if trying to drive through town when it’s on) and vaguely intending to do (friends, after all, have said how good it is). And they were right! It was good all right, unexpectedly, surprisingly good. Packed with people, generally young, culturally diverse … a snapshot of the new urban New Zealand perhaps? But also a wonderful range of produce. Not a farmers’ market, exactly … bananas aren’t grown locally, for starters. And maybe it wasn’t all first-grade produce … malformed red peppers, rock melons that didn’t smell of melon, over-ripe plums … but a real market. Lots of squeezing and sniffing of produce. Such fun. So pleased I finally made the effort. I’ll be back. Often.

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