To Market, To Market

In honor of tomorrow being Saturday--meaning the day for my weekly trip to the market--I want to give you a little glimpse of the dear little market in Chambéry, for it is that which I shall miss most about life here.  Each little community has its own market on certain days during the week, but the Saturday market in the center of town is by far the best. 

 

You name it, you can buy it at the market.  Of course you can find seafood, meat, bread, cheeses (probably enough different kinds for every day of the year), fruits and vegetables--all fresh--but you can also find fresh pasta, live chickens and ducks, eggs, hats, local wine, mattresses, underwear, watches, books, sewing supplies, flowers, luggage, pots and pans, coffee, local honey, African food and mushrooms galore. 

It seems the whole town comes to the market on Saturday morning, and the cafés are filled with people sipping coffee and visiting with friends.  You see, going to the market is not the same thing as going to the grocery store.  A trip to the market is an event, a time to catch up on weekly gossip and chat with the vendors you have grown to know and trust.  

 

When Saturday morning comes around, I have two options:  rush through the market, taking just enough time to buy the things we need for the week to come, or I can slow down a bit and chat with the man who sells me 5 dozen eggs each week.   

It takes time to get to know people in this fashion, one week a small conversation, the next just a few sentences, but slowly you begin to recognize people and they begin to recognize you. 

There are those who are in a hurry, who don't have time for people.  But there are also those who will take the time to talk to you for several minutes, even with a line of people waiting behind you. 





 
 I love how the market is quiet and calm even when it's full of people.  I love all the colors, shapes and smells of the produce in season.  

I love the cheese.  Okay, not ALL the cheese.  But they always look so impressive that I want to buy some, even if it's not a kind we particularly like.  After all, it's not just food.  It's a tradition.  



Perhaps the market is even more than an event...perhaps it's a way of life.