Tuesday 3 November 2009


There is an organic market every Saturday in Woodstock. They sell fruit, vegetables, cakes,


fish, meat, wine, cider.

They sell crepes, oysters, gyros, tacos, puffertjes, sausages, burgers.

They sell baby clothes, pretty dresses, jewellery, shoes, art. They sell bric a brac and antiques.

They sell flowers.

And I spent Hallowe’en (which didn’t feel remotely Hallowe’en-y) there. I drank coffee and cider, ate a crepe and a gyro (several hours apart), bought rocket pesto and sweet-potato bread and a yellow dress with red trimming.

The only thing absent from a perfect day was my beautiful basket, bought in the market at Aix. It would have come in very useful for my purchases. Sadly, though, the basket is in Roisin’s cellar.

Other than that, Neighbourgoods is perfect. I think my idea of heaven is a market like this one.


  1. basket not in cellar STOP in pride of place in Neh Neh's room STOP

  2. Message received and understood STOP has GK tried to get in basket yet STOP