Market Day (Volume 1)

The alarm sounds early, you roll over and remember that you are not home. Where are you? You peer out the window and see darkness...you are up before the sun. As you brush your teeth it occurs to you that you are still on the road, still traveling, still seeing the world. Double loop your shoestrings, out the door in record time, not a minute lose. Today is the big day. You are excited....that brand of excitement that fires in some unknown place inside, the kind that adds tempo to your dreams and gets you out of bed after a fitful night. You are excited because today you shop the world. Today is market day.

The smells hit you first, to follow your nose would be impossible. The air is churning with a thousand scents: fresh baked bread, a waft of broth, a line of incense, then sweet fruit, now vanilla, smoked meat, ginger, roasted coffee. Coffee!....must find coffee!...and today you can be choosy. Today you can go anywhere.

Turn on Via Isonzo, nothing seems open. Find a local and follow. Just ahead a bike messenger ducks into a shop. Presto! A hanging bells rings as you step into Il Gelateria Firenze. The courier is already done with his espresso and out the door. Order a cappuccino and chocolate croissant, shoot the coffee, slam the pastry, one euro twenty and you are off in less than five minutes. When in Rome. Actually, Florence.

You are awake now, ready to conquer. What do you need? Not a thing. What do you want? Whatever catches your eye. A dangerous recipe. Today you have no worries, no plans and the markets of the world are all just a street away. Ciao! to the barista. Out the door and onto the cobblestone of the Buenos Aires Antique market. Old lamps catch your eye next to tables of century-old plates. And bells....why do you need a bell? Because its Argentine! You can see artwork over on Estados Unidos past the tango dancers. The pastry cart selling dulce de leche has a spell on you that only a perfect Alfajor can break.

Convulsing from a sugar high you decide to start slow to avoid hypergluco-de-leche seizures. You take a stroll down Hongdae Flea Market for a look at artwork of the far east. Seoul's shelves team more electronics than artisan goods but the ardent seeker is well rewarded. Down Hongdae way Samsung gives way to Samgyupsal and the softer creative side of Korea shines. A quaint potters guild sells square plates with cracked glaze in earth colors that would go perfect with the placemats you are know you are going to buy later. You love your plates but carrying them monopolizes your free hand reserved for snacking at street stalls. Passing the skewers and live octopus stands, you restrain...time to find a bag.