Hot Jacket Potatoes!

It's 10am, Saturday morning. We think it's April the 4th, but nobody really knows.

We're currently in Hobart, Tasmania. Tasmania is an isolated little island just south of Melbourne. We took a ferry, overnight, from Port Melbourne. The ferry ride was amazing. We considered asking the Captain if he would turn off the running lights so that we could see the stars without any light whatsoever, but we couldn't find his cabin.

We've been here a few days, in Tazzie, This is our last day in the main city, Hobart, and we are fully planning to make our own little Farmers Market venture overseas, while our friends are fast asleep in the States on Friday night.

We head down to the market, which is located in the Salamanca part of town. It's a breezy day and Hobart cannot decide whether it wants to be warm or cold. Later on, we'll find out that Tazzie/Ozzie is reportedly directly beneath the hole in the ozone layer - this is what a local tells us, so I cannot verify its validity. The sun comes out and I feel like my 3 layers are far too many; the sun goes in and I wish I had my hooded jacket.

We've only got the general direction of the market in mind. Mel and I are walking a few steps behind Walter, trying to figure out the best, and warmest, path to the Market. We get behind a couple, roughly our age, dressed in outfits I might describe as work out clothes. I look at Mel, "They are headed to the market, let's follow them." She gives them a once-over and nods her agreement. At the next corner, though, we run into a few older couples. "Wait, maybe we should follow THEM." She says back to me. I glance over them and insist on following the first couple.

We successfully stalk this couple all the way to the market, and Mel insists that we're going to run into the older couples later. "They just went a different way, I'm sure. This thing is probably enormous."

We'd later find out that she was right: this market is massive.

We walk amongst the first few rows of the market, seeing odd and creepy dolls for sale, whole loaves of bread, silk dresses and much more. Lovely, just lovely, except we want food. Mel and Walt stop at a fudge stand for free samples and I groan inwardly. 8 more days, I tell myself. And I thank Jesus. They saunter down the pathway towards me, our minds refocused on breakfast.

Mel and I have previously discussed whether Ozzie has baked potatoes, because chips (fries) and mashed seem to be the only options at the place we eat. We both see the sign, HOT BAKED SPUDS, at the same time and instantly internally decide that's what we are eating. We head directly towards a happy old man (I swear to you, all these Aussies are so HAPPY. And FRIENDLY!) who is behind the stand. "Are you selling baked potatoes?!" I ask him, grinning ear to ear. He says yes, of course, and so Mel and I decide to split one. We ask for bacon on the side (mind you that their bacon is much more like ham than American Bacon) and so he piles an entire cup down the side of the baked potato. Mel and I are in heaven. "You best be careful, splitting this thing. I've seen people rolling around in the grass, fighting each other for the final bites." I smile back at him and say, "Don't you worry, we'll probably be back." Wally gets in line for a cappucino and Mel and I eat our little bit of American-homemade heaven in the park. Wally walks up with a bratwurst in his hand. So much for the idea of breakfast, I laugh to myself.

We head back towards the market after our eating adventures. I jump in line for a cappucino and Mel orders an afforgato. This is an espresso with a scoop of ice cream thrown on top just for luck. She swears to bring this invention back to the states, whenever we might end up there again. Wally stops at the record stand, as Mel and I head directly back to the olive stand. We meant to make it to the Olive Growers Grove yesterday, but got tied up south of Hobart. We both eat a green olive, which was marinated in nothing less than God's nectar, and close our eyes in intense appreciation. While we both want to buy some of these delectable treats, we remember that we are going to head to the Grove on the way out of town this afternoon, so we abstain for now. We will later be extremely disappointed to find out that they are not open on Saturdays.

We find Walter looking through the Beatles records and then head further south.

"HOT JACKET POTATOES!" I exclaim, reading a sign I see on the side of one of the food trailers. My exclamation sounded like "Holy Crap!" or "Good Golly Miss Molly!" and so Walt and Mel run with it, saying Hot Jacket Potatoes as loud as they can. They deem it Pudgy Cannon's new slogan. "Hot Jacket Potatoes, I'm thirsty!" They crack me up.

We find coconut ice (coconut candy cubes that look like ice cubes) and Fairy Floss (aka Cotton Candy). We walk by the stand for Grandewe Cheesery, only to have the guy behind the stand call out to us, as we met him yesterday. We walk by the Persian food stand and Walter makes eye contact with the cook. "Hey, man, how's it goin?" He yells towards the cook, who recognizes us from dinner and coffee at his diner a few nights before. "We fit in so well here, already knowing the locals..." Walter laughs.

I walk past an Asian guy. He looks like an incredibly wise 30-something year old Chinese guy. His hair is either dreadlocked or dirty, but it's piled into this regal messy bun on top of his head. I nudge Melissa and say, "Oh my Gosh, that is Sonny in a few years." She later finds him on the ground, playing some sort of Chinese musical instrument, and she snaps a picture of him. "Future Sonny." She laughs at me. We're gonna upload that somewhere.

We keep walking and are astounded at the different musicians playing for coins (they have up to $2 coins here) on the sidewalks. There is a 4 string quartet of young 20-somethings; a vibrant group of hippy-trendy 20-somethings playing all sorts of odd things (Mel could probably tell you more), a band that I would deem Mexican from their clothing, but Spanish or Mediterranean from their music; Chinese Future Sonny and his Chinese Pal playing something really awesome; and several other groups. They fascinated us.

We also found the world's smallest pancakes (I think they were about the size of a mini-muffin top). I passed a guy eating raspberries out of a plastic cup with creme on top and I say, mostly to myself, "Did you see that guy's RASPBERRIES." Mel and Walt bellow their laughter as Walter uses his gay (or womanly, as he once tried to call it) voice to say "Did you see that GUY'S RASPBERRIESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" They carry on for a good 10 feet before they go off on some other random tangent. They crack me up.

Melissa stops at a wool shop and tries on a killer hat. It's only 15 AUD, which is about $10-$12 USD. I convince her it's a worthwhile purchase, since we're at Salamanca market, it's cheap, and she has no idea where her other hat is at the moment.

That's one thing that's driving me crazy. I have 4 bags and they all have 150 pockets, so I'm constantly losing something.

But anyway.

So she buys the wool hat, and later describes her newfound adoration for it.

"The bottom half of that guy's face is hot." She says to me out of the side of her mouth. I look at her like she's crazy - I'm pretty sure that's the oddest thing she's ever said, and she says many, many random things. "What! The bottom half?" "Well, he has on sunglasses." I look at her and explain that it's completely find to add the disclaimer... "That guy is hot. I can't see his face because of his glasses, but he seems hot." She laughs and we take off back towards the beginning of the market. We pass yet another book stand and start browsing. Mellie wants to find Grapes of Wrath; Walt and I just browse for anything good. I've talked Mel out of other books already because she asked me not to let her add any weight/reading material until she's finished some of the others.

But then.

I see Sidney Sheldon, IF TOMORROW COMES, which is my favorite book by him. It used to be my favorite fiction book entirely, because it's such a great story. I insist she buys it - it's only $2AUD. She agrees, but tells me that she will be duct taping the front cover. It has terrible 80s-style photography and illustration on the front.

I'm sure there are a few more stops along the way, that I'm forgetting, but these were the highlights of Salamanca.

Best market I've ever been to.

And apparently, contains the hottest guy in Hobart, at least from the bottom of his face.