For example, on the menu tonight is sushi. So I'm off to the fishmonger:
And then we have the fishmonger himself: when I asked if it was okay to take a picture, he not only said yes, he immediately grabbed his tap-hose and sprayed all the fish down 'to make them shiny for you.' The results speak for themselves:
THIS IS WHY WE SHOP HERE.
Then once I sorted the tuna, I had to pick up the veg. Another shop! Isn't this grand? I left the street where the fishmonger is located, though, because it's Fancy Town, all wine shops and bakeries and fancy butchers - which works when you're looking for high-grade fish good enough to eat raw, but outsmarts me for anything else. The green grocers there are all antique-wooden-crate, rustic-sign-board, flower-adorned pretty places that sell a designer selection of faux-organic produce at Victoria Park prices. Closer to home, my local veg shop is all cardboard and plastic, and they have a machete behind the counter to whack open the cassava root, and you'll never spend more than a fiver.
Mircey Fruit: Keepin' It Real, since whatever year that font was in style.
I also had to go to The Tescos, but that's not photogenic or charming, so let's just skate right past and pretend we didn't see it.
And just to make my morning more exciting: there's a row of derelict, abandoned shops right on the corner between our place and Where All the Shops Are, and today I passed a group of local women painting them pretty:
I don't know why This & That and Bankrupt Stock didn't survive. They had some decent wholesale handbags that were not at all of questionable origin.
Okay, back to work! If I hit my editing target early enough, I'm going to take a hot bath before dinner, and that would be my day won.
Big hugs and lots of love,