Hubby and I had this trip planned for weeks, it’s part of our resolution to have a number of trips scheduled in the diary so that we have fun stuff to look forward to. What I thought would be a frolic around the Côte d’Azur turned out to be quite a different story.
3 weeks’ before our travel date, I was rather shocked to be rushed to hospital to have my appendix whipped out. I won’t bore you with the details but I must say that my main concern (after getting out of there alive) was whether or not I would be able to take this trip. The good news was that the medics gave me a cautious “yes”, subject to me taking it easy.
I was particularly excited about a photography tour of the flower market that I had booked. It involved spending 90 minutes with a professional photographer who would ensure that I would “walk away from the tour with a better understanding of terms like “f-stop” “aperture” “shutter speed” and “ISO”.”. Now I have no idea what any of those things mean, so this could only be a good thing – right? Since hubby gifted me a “point and shoot” camera, this is exactly what I have done – point and shoot. The only functions that I have recently become friends with are my panoramic function as well as some scene modes – “food” being my favourite!
Having received neither a confirmation nor a cancellation from the tour company, I decided to turn up anyway. 9am at the Nice Opéra House to begin our photographic tour of the famous flower market in Nice Old Town.
I was really hoping to share some sort of photographic renaissance with you, but alas, it’s my usual standard of amateur snaps – I just hope that they don’t disappoint. . .
Just what is it about a French market that attracts and intrigues me in equal measure? I love the romanticism of leaving the house on market day, wicker basket draped on my arm and being inspired to create dishes from whatever produce is available that day. My food would follow the seasons and I would have a colourful diet rich in fresh fruits and vegetables.
What I also love are the mismatched shapes and sizes. Where are those EU quangos who measure the size and straightness of a butternut squash? Nowhere to be seen here (and long may that be the case).
Why don’t I see white asparagus and purple artichokes at the greengrocers in Staines-upon-Thames? I’m not really sure I’d know what to do with them, but I’d love the challenge.
Let me leave you with some pictures.