After so many years of naive acceptance of Disney's claims that its theme parks are the "Happiest Place on Earth", Gen and I have uncovered the truth. After wandering, by chance, into the Elizabeth Hostel in Melbourne, we discovered, and feel it is our duty to reveal to the public, the truth. And please understand, we come to you, the public, with this information with no agenda or malice of action; we merely feel obliged to clear the lies: Disney's parks are not, in fact, the happiest places on earth.
Gen and I have often wondered if we took our dog, Grizzly Bear, to an all-you-can-eat restaurant, would he eat until the lining of his stomach ruptured, its contents leaked into his body cavity and digested his insides, essentially eating himself to death? I can now say with infallible confidence, having never actually spoken to him about this, that he would undoubtedly do that very thing. How can I know this, you ask? No, I can not speak to animals, and no, I am not any kind of medium.
However, I have been to Queen Victoria's Market.
Nestled unobtrusively in Northern Melbourne at the intersection of Elizabeth and Victoria streets, the market's unassuming exterior belies the enormousness of the entire market...though the word "market" seems to fall short in describing this small metropolis of commercialism. Unlike so many outdoor markets that I'm sure so many of you are familiar with, this market is the paragon of markets; the penultimate example of frivolous commerce. I'm not talking in any childish, my-dad-can-beat-up-you-dad-terms (even though he can, sorry); we're talking about an absolute here: this is the best, the Hulk Hogan of bazaars; the Arnold Schwarzenegger of flea markets.
And now we know how much it must pain the Trix rabbit to watch those little brats munch away incessantly at HIS cereal.
Gen and I are doing our very best to conserve funds here in OZ so that we can do as many activities as we can. But when re-allocating funds into our recreation account, we are forced to remove funds from our foods account, so we were limited in our spending at the market. But we would have undoubtedly traded the most confidential of the government's top secrets for any of the vendors' wares; we even discussed trading one of my thighs for an equal portion of made-from-scratch cream cheese, pesto, and feta-stuffed bell peppers. But, after a lengthy weighing of the options, decided it wasn't worth the mess. But, we did not leave without sampling some of these merchants' goods:
This was some of the best food we've EVER had. Period. All of this, freshly made the morning we bought it, and all if made from the freshest of products; OZ imports very, very little of its food-stuffs, opting, instead to have farms and other in-home sources for everything. So the fish, the fruit, the bread, the vegetables, all of it, is the freshest. And of course, it goes without saying, that once we exhausted the funds we'd set aside for the market, we went back to browse, but more for the free samples offered at every booth. In fact, if a backpacker were so inclined (and short on funds), he could, in theory, go and satiate himself on free samples alone...and so we did.
Oh, and don't think for a minute that this market is limited to food. When I said frivoulous commerce, I meant it. They have everything, from leather products, to food, to toys, to cheeky souvenirs.
This is the kind of place dreams are made of...or perhaps this place is made of dreams...
