To market, to market

So one of my favourite things so far about Paris are the weekend food markets. They are hilarious. They are busy and bright with all the produce sellers calling out to you trying to get you to try their wares. And the taste is unbelievable. I had completely forgotten how a real tomato or cucumber should taste- I've become so accustomed to the long stored, over-chilled supermarket varieties.
And so cheap! I got two kilos of fresh figs for less than the price of one fig in Australia and in NZ you are hard pushed even to find one for sale anywhere. It is so so fun and I can't wait for the next time I can go. And the people are so lovely. I was 80 cents short for one stall and he said to me - nevermind, just pay me next time you come. How trusting is that! We follow our market trip with a stop at the boulangerie to pick up some delicious fresh bread and maybe a treat - a perfect french weekend morning. This is is what makes the trials of your day-to-day life learning the french way to do things worth it.