Oh, Edinburgh, I am thoroughly enjoying this brief fling we’re having.
We won’t be here long. Maybe another month, maybe two? We don’t know, our lives are sort of a roulette wheel right now. We’ve been here for about three weeks so far, trekking all over the city. We walk everywhere, and every time we head out the door we find a new little corner to explore, a new place to try lunch, a new pub with an interesting history, or a new view that makes us stop and smile.
We were house sitting for the first two weeks, and now we’re renting a flat from a family member on a month-to-month basis. We’re on a budget while we job hunt, so we’re making a lot of our own meals. It’s a lot healthier than stuffing myself with all the fish and chips I can get my hands on, and cheaper than eating out every day, although I love me some fish and chips. Mmmmm. Fish and chips.
Where was I? Oh, yes. The farmer’s market.
Located on Castle Terrace, in the shadow of Edinburgh Castle, it’s about a ten minute walk from both of the apartments we’ve stayed in. The market is set up every Saturday, and we got lucky with a sunny morning on our first weekend in town so we took a stroll to see what we could pick up.
Chocolate? I like this market already!
Lamb and mutton? Maybe not this time, but we did pick up a wild rabbit which later became rabbit soup. Brian couldn’t quite believe that I had never tried rabbit before, just like I can’t believe he doesn’t know who the Brady Bunch are, so he picked one up for me. It was… ok. Tasted a bit like cat food. I think I’ll stick with the chicken next time.
We picked up the normal market items, eggs, veggies and some hand made candy, and browsed around to see what else they had.
There were quite a few stands with hand made items and crafty things, some clothes, lots of meat pies (of which we ate two). It was a nice way to spend a Saturday morning, and I felt good about the local organic produce we got, and the local business people we were supporting. I loved the view of the castle peeking over the top of the market stands, and the friendliness of the vendors.
It really wasn’t all that different from our local farmer’s market in Brazil. Maybe a bit bigger, and with a slightly different variety of goods, but it still had the same feel and serves the same purpose. It also had the common element (for me) of having quite a few mystery items. Or maybe I should say I knew what they were, but not what to call them. I keep forgetting that even though they speak English here, it’s a very different English than the one I grew up with. They don’t have zucchini, they have courgettes. They don’t have rutabagas, they have swedes. They don’t have eggplant, they have aubergines, and did you know uncooked ham is called gammon? Now you do. You’re welcome.
At least a milk shake is called a milk shake. That’s comforting in any language.
On the map: Click here to see this location on our Google Map.