The food is FRESH!

We (I) were looking forward to the fresh food; the Mediterranean diet. I knew I would have to get used to olives and sardines and such, but I was excited for fresh produce and eggs and cream from those cows with bells around their necks roaming in nearby grassy pastures.

As you can see, there is a lot of yummy produce, most grown just 15 miles from here, although we did buy some packaged green beans when we first got here from Kenya (France's Mexico). People sell jams and jellies in recycled jars (it's delicious!), and fresh honey with a dozen flavors. On the right, above, is the spice table with the most delectable smells, and the most creative varieties, of spices I've ever seen. Geoff tried to learn as much as he could about olive oils and vinegars. We learned never to buy olive oil without trying it first, and they encouraged us to bring our own spoon sampling. There are garden areas with everything from roses to bougainvillea plants, and pizza stands. As you head inside there are olive stands, candied fruits, cheeses galour, and fish of all sizes. But then...there is the butcher...

On our first visit last week I was walking in anxious to see our new fresh food market when I spied black eyes staring out of the case. A "black-eyed" rabbit was laid out to show it's full-length, eyes in tack, teeth looking like he was caught nibbling on Mr. McGreggor's lettuce...just skinned. I quickly turned away in disgust only to see the front half of a pig, again in perfect form, skinned, displayed proudly on the top of the case. Just then I saw Geoff ordering bacon and the guy grabbed a whole slab of something fleshy to take back to the slicer. Oh my heavens! And then I turned just in time to see a fridge open and a cow hanging by it's hind legs...it's cute little bell probably still laying in the grass! Where were the nicely packaged, no rib meat, chicken breasts?! I was nauseous for days, and haven't eaten much meat since. Today was better. No black-eyed rabbit in the case. There was a pig's head (above right), and they chicken (left) was adorned with it's feathery head and tail for show. I spent more time at the cream and yogurt area, and pretended that those butcher areas didn't totally gross me out. But then I heard a holler and some commotion and down the aisle came a bloodied butcher carrying a cow, to replace the used up one that was in the fridge last week. Gross. I tried to grab my camera and take a picture, and got a last glimpse (it disappeared during posting...I'll add it later). A few older french guys cheered after. Geoff told me they were yelling, "You got it!", and "Watch out for the crazy cow!"

We went and found a public drinking fountain to rehydrate (the girls were pretty funny trying to figure out the right pose for maximum intake...what good sports!), and then went to catch a bus since we had a lot of heavy bottles of oils and vinegars and jams and fresh honey.

It is only about 80 degrees, but with humidity, and sitting on a bench waiting for a bus...it got hot. We waited for about 30 minutes before we realized we were either at the wrong place, had missed it, or the bus driver was stopping for his two hour lunch break.

So we packed up our stroller and decided to hike home, through old town. The skinny passageways are bumpy and curvy and full of steps, and I felt like a pioneer pushing a handcart over the rocky mountains. At times I would look back to see if angels were pushing me...but they weren't, and I had a moment of total disillusionment. Wasn't this supposed to be restful and relaxing? Weren't the daily trips to the market supposed to be idyllic? I really missed my minivan with its electric door opener at that moment. But if I had that I wouldn't be here. And I am here. And, I'm glad we're here.