There is a Farmers’ Market by my university open every Thursday. I always see the signs and people headed in that direction, but for some reason I have never bothered to take a peak for myself. Today I had an hour to kill before my lecture, so I decided to go venture into the unknown and let my nose be my guide.
The market had over 20 stalls, cooking and selling all different flavours and cultures of food and beverages galore. It seemed to go on for ever, each stall differing to the one before it, offering something unique to the mix. From fresh fish to Italian ice cream, crumbly quiches to Asian noodle dishes, homemade oven-cooked pizza to crêpes dripping with chocolate, the range was varied and exciting.
Usually I would walk to class without paying much attention to the stimuli around me, but the smells were so strong…
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