Happee Monkee

We’ve been going to the farmers markets three weeks in a row now. First Caulfied, then Boroondara and now Ballarat. You can’t keep me away from markets. Slow food is in my genes. I’ve been soaked in market butter if there’s such a thing.

Back home in Malaysia, I would tag along with Mom to shop at the wet markets. It’s a very ‘aunty’ thing to do. It’s noisy. Busy. Crowded. And always, stank of all things combined – raw meat, fresh fish, vegetables and some fermented stuff. Sellers and buyers yelling over prices. It’s both curious and fascinating. Mom would let me pick a bag of potatoes or onions, whichever she needed, while she bargained with the storekeeper. I was about five and I didn’t start out as a good potato picker but I did learn in the end.

Thank god it’s more civil here. Different sort of things (it’s sometimes difficult to find a particular ingredient if you’re cooking a Malaysian dish) but no less delightful. G’s dad, M. is a great cook even though he claims he isn’t. He’s too takes great care with his shopping. We have such a good time with grocery shopping. It’s not fashionable. But I shamelessly find it more enjoyable than buying a new dress.

We didn’t go all the way to Ballarat for the farmers market of course. What? Drive 1.5 hours from Melbourne just to stalk yet another market? I don’t think so. We were up there for a relaxing weekend. Just G., M and me. No chores. No running around like mad chooks. No thinking about work. Just taking time off and doing whatever we fancied.

The Ballarat Lakeside Farmers Market featured about 50 stores with the lovely Lake Wendouree in the background. We had a stroll around the lake and believe me I was snappy happy. It was simply beautiful. No. Wait. I correct myself. It was absolutely gorgeous….

It was blue skies for a bit and then it got a little nippy but nothing a hot cup of latte couldn’t fix. The farmers market in Ballarat was right opposite the Botanical Gardens and even though it was winter, I found some of the most fabulous growth … well, spurting with life.

We spent Sunday lazing in bed, cooking pancakes and exploring the mansion we stayed in. The mansion is a 55-acres property which was formerly a boys home from World War I to 1981. There’s a lot more history to the blue-stone building and you can read the rest of it here if you’re interested.

I was rather interested in the surroundings and poke my nose in everything. The boys waited very patiently for me as I snapped away. G. showed me something quite curious with a plant we found. He removed the stalk off the seed and crumbled it. As he separated the pods, the wind blew and it floated off.

There were plenty to do at the resort but we didn’t have time to. The cold and walk around the lake made me hungry (even after pancakes!) and we headed off shortly for lunch. But there’s much to do if you have kids.

All it all, it was a great weekend away from Melbourne. Nothing too exhausting or happening. I know, I know, I must be getting old. But you know what? If it’s really the case, I welcome it with open arms.