Canberra's a city without much going on. It's not interesting, like New York or Boston; it's not terrible, like Syracuse. (No offense, Andrew.) It just kind of is. They built it a hundred years ago to be the capital and it seems it's yet to grow a soul. (Disclaimer: Everyone at the university was wonderful. A bland city doesn't mean bland people.) But the farmers market - daaamn. Appropriately known as Epic after the exhibition grounds where it's held. Place is huge. Di took me there on Saturday before I left for Bali. It's probably a good thing I was leaving town the next day, or I would have bought the place out. It sure doesn't hurt things to live in a climate where you can sell local olives alongside the honey, oranges, and lamb. And Australian truffles? (The fungus kind, as well as the chocolate kind.) Unfortunately no free samples there. If I'd had the chance I would've gotten a few of those kalamatas, a loaf of bread, some salami and tomatoes and one of those fruit tarts and had myself a picnic. As is, the samples made a nice brunch. We picked up some sausages for dinner and a pile of produce. Later one Di poached a pile of quinces we'd bought - fantastic.
In Bali, a farmers market is just called a market. And I didn't go to a real one (not this trip, anyway), but I did go to the night market for cheap dinner. I can't vouch for the produce, but the soursop juice and nasi campur were great. Anyway, moving on.
And now I'm craving another apricot pastry. Damn. Anyway on Thursday I leave ridiculously early to go to Fiordland, which should make for an eventful and photogenic weekend. Here's hoping for good weather and penguins.