I love markets. Here in Seattle, Pike Place Market is where I go when I am feeling stressed or just in need of a little motivation.
In Tel Aviv, the Carmel market is where my passion for life is ignited.
The night before I went to the market, I tossed and turned in bed, imagining what I would find. I dreamt of the endless piles of candy. The piles make you want to jump in the candy and roll around. I dreamt of the plastic cups filled with freshly squeezed pomegranate juice. I dreamt of the lady who stands around filling your bags with freshly baked pita. Then I woke up, fed the baby and ran to the market.
It was 8 am. I had candy for breakfast. I had fresh roasted nuts. I walked through the market and let the scents of the foods take me away. I took pictures. I forgot all my jet lag, my stress, my tiredness. I immersed in the colors, the foods, the fruit, the vegetables. No guilt here, I tasted everything and for a few hours I was happier than Willy Wonka.
I was in foodie heaven and I wasn’t ready to come back to earth.