The Sunday Flea Market
On Sunday almost everything closes in Jerez. Of course, that's not counting when everything is closed every day at siesta time. And not counting when everything is closed at night when you come out of the shows. AND not counting when each business owner takes their own special holiday. Also counting numerous holidays celebrating - guess who... well, the Virgin Mary - of course.
I'm thinking there is perhaps room for a business consultant here on how to make money. My first advice would be... TO OPEN UP FOR BUSINESS.
This Sunday, Pat, my dear friend, fellow flamenco junkie, neighbour at home, and now "Sante Patricia" (she has acquired sainthood in my world, as she has taken me under her experienced wing, and is teaching me the ropes) went to the Flea Market that is in the Plaza outside the palace.
The rain had finally let up, and then it shone brightly, drying the soaked streets. Like a fall day in Ontario, the clean brisk wind seemed to clear the air. We met at the clock outside the tapas bar where Juan Jose works, and made our way across town... Pat describing points of historical, or useful interest along the way.
I was expecting the same old junk you find in flea markets at home... but when we climbed the steps up to the plaza...layed out on blankets and tables in the windy sunshine , was tons of wonderful SPANISH JUNK!!!! Great cheesy gold candelabras, rows of wonderful bad paintings of the Madonna, brass hardware from wherever, decorative boxes, cups, plates, a really cool old baby carriage, and car radios....hmmnn LOTS of car radios.
I wasn't quite dry yet, so I bought a black wool poncho for two euros (with which I justified my purchase of a great little black suit - earlier in the week, before I got word from home the Visa was over its limit - this justification of purchases is an important female skill I should probably do seminars in...) and Pat found some jeans for one euro.
Deals found, sun and wind enjoyed, we headed back across the plaza past the Tio Pepe's family's Sherry brewery, then to Pat's apartment (she is here for three months) for some stew she had cooked.
I'm thinking there is perhaps room for a business consultant here on how to make money. My first advice would be... TO OPEN UP FOR BUSINESS.
This Sunday, Pat, my dear friend, fellow flamenco junkie, neighbour at home, and now "Sante Patricia" (she has acquired sainthood in my world, as she has taken me under her experienced wing, and is teaching me the ropes) went to the Flea Market that is in the Plaza outside the palace.
The rain had finally let up, and then it shone brightly, drying the soaked streets. Like a fall day in Ontario, the clean brisk wind seemed to clear the air. We met at the clock outside the tapas bar where Juan Jose works, and made our way across town... Pat describing points of historical, or useful interest along the way.
I was expecting the same old junk you find in flea markets at home... but when we climbed the steps up to the plaza...layed out on blankets and tables in the windy sunshine , was tons of wonderful SPANISH JUNK!!!! Great cheesy gold candelabras, rows of wonderful bad paintings of the Madonna, brass hardware from wherever, decorative boxes, cups, plates, a really cool old baby carriage, and car radios....hmmnn LOTS of car radios.
I wasn't quite dry yet, so I bought a black wool poncho for two euros (with which I justified my purchase of a great little black suit - earlier in the week, before I got word from home the Visa was over its limit - this justification of purchases is an important female skill I should probably do seminars in...) and Pat found some jeans for one euro.
Deals found, sun and wind enjoyed, we headed back across the plaza past the Tio Pepe's family's Sherry brewery, then to Pat's apartment (she is here for three months) for some stew she had cooked.
posted by Edie at 1:51 PM
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