Red and in ya face

Those who are familiar with the 2095 market chickz blog, know that she loves to set herself a challenge when at market.  Red is here, red is loud, red is proud.  How many versions of red could be found not only at one market but in one day?  

"But which market?" does the 2095 chick hear you say?  Well the only clue is this. Part of its name is a primary colour, it's is in the Inner West and it's run on a Saturday in a certain school..oopla! That's more than one clue!

Nick's Orange Grove Markets Orchids

As a photographer the 2095 chick tends to select "things people wouldn't ordinarily see" even more so at markets or when out and about.  

Traditionally she is not one who gets the "ooh" and "ahhh" satisfaction from obsessively capturing leaves and trees.

However there is one particular plant that is almost impossible to resist. It is deceptively simple in its flawlessness & this is somehow magnified once viewed from behind the lens.  

Each Orange Grove market visit, the 2095 chick MUST shoot this amazing flower at all costs, and somehow is able to identify the latest addition to an already amazing collection with no prompting from Nick (dubbed The King of Orchids)

So for my friend Nick my top 10 shots of your beautiful orchids

however given it is me, be assured there will be more of Nick's gorgeous flowers and plants in blogs to come

Chatswood's Hidden Nirvana

Before I start, I must once again preface this blog as being in retrospect with photos having been taken on my (then fairly new) iphone.  Whilst not perfect, it is what it is, and I assure you the experience was exactly that.....perfect!

Also, as it has been a few years since my encounter, there will be additions to this little pocket of glory (note to self: must get back post haste!)

It was a fairly cold winter's day and for once the 2095'er had absolutely no trouble with finding her way to the 2067.  Even better, she knew exactly where the car should be parked AND where to find "the tunnel" (well as we all know it's actually an bridge but hey, i like the word tunnel and it's my blog, so tunnel it is!)

Successfully crossed, it became time find these markets, which shouldn't have been particularly difficult given the HUGE sign attached to the school's perimeter. 

But my navigation prowess was soon put to the test .  For seeing the sign was one thing, actually finding the entry was entirely different circumstance. 

What can I say....been quite a while since the 2095'er set foot on the asphalt.

Enough of the rhetoric!  

Upon finally sourcing and then actually entering the school grounds, I found what can only be termed an organic nirvana in an otherwise frantic traffic intersection.  

Far from the madding crowd, with the gentle sound of birds twittering and the breeze through the camphor laurel trees (who, it must be noted, were toasty warm) I discovered, what I would define, Chatswood's best kept Saturday Secret!

Naturally, first order of the day was to order and then scoff (in no particular order) coffee and one of those bacon & egg rolls (using free range eggs of course!) whose aroma was mouth-wateringly enticing.

Duly sated and sitting at a table placed to embrace the winter sun, I observed quite a few folk using the school as a short-cut. Many of whom appeared to have a somewhat expression of surprise, and were heard to utter "Oh!  I had NO idea this was here".  

Not wanting to sound smug and superior having only just discovered it myself, I set about engaging my companion in a discussion with a tone just loud enough to be heard: "what a fantastic place to buy fresh fruit & veg!" 

Another delightful scene (and apologies for the lack of photographic skills) was spotting Greenpeace setting up "shop".  A most worthy cause and in an organic market?  Marriage made in heaven by my standards.

With that, it became time to meander home with my bag full to the brim of organic goodies.

A toute a l'heur Chatswood Markets and I promise to return soon!

Gladesville's Pocket

Before I start, I have to let you know that the photos and descriptive words contained in this particular blog were from a time way back in 2010 which when the 2095 visited the 2111 post code area on cool winter's day.  And as such, there will be new additions I have not yet been able to capture on digi-film so please forgive OR why not get there and discover for yourselves! (hint hint)

Having not been in this particular region for well over 15 years, coupled with my famous lack of geographical direction, I managed to get lost not once, not twice but three times during which time quite a few expletives had been uttered not just by myself but by my companion!  Had I bothered to see if there was a ferry to this pocket of paradise I would have saved myself quite a bit of trouble and ear-ache.

But it's me and I didn't and as the Italians apparently say "what ya gonna do"

Upon arrival my immediate reaction was "oh! what a funny little place" with an immediate afterthought being "i never even knew about this school".  For, you see, I pride myself in thinking I know everything about every location and every school in every part of Sydney.

While not a complete fool (thought some may beg to differ and yes, there are times when I proudly wear the hat of stoopid), I must admit that on this particular occasion I conceded defeat, took it on the chin like a (wo)man and set exploring this "brave new world".

Opposite the school is a playing field and, & just like Gladys Kravitz I couldn't help myself.  I simply had to have a peek to see which schools were playing their Saturday sport.  And boy wasn't I elated to see my old school colours out there loud and proud....and playing rugby!  I knew that we (as in my school) were and always have been in to world domination in all areas of sport, but RUGBY?!

Don't get me wrong.  I have been a rugger-bugger for eternity but watching those girls running around and doing scrummages & line-outs, was almost too much for the 2095'er to handle.

Tradition states, it should be the girls standing on the side-lines, in whatever looks fantastic (no matter how cold a day it may be), cheering for a game about which they most likely have very little interest, and just waiting/hoping/praying for a glance or acknowledgement from one the boys all muddied and rugby-d up.

With that, I promptly turned around and continued to my original point of destination.  Couldn't quite work out what was going on initially I must confess.  But then it hit me:

Stop

Take a breath

Don't be in such a hurry

Just let yourself be part of the moment

once done, so began probably one of the most enjoyable days the 2095 chick had had in a long long while.

The Chick is well overdue for another jaunt to this little pocket of paradise and in all honesty looking at these photos, it really should be sooner rather than later

Riverside Markets

ps: what's really cool is that these photos were taken on an iphone and having graduated to an EOS1100D, these little babies are not half bad!

Saturdays at Kings Cross

When I first left home and decided to extend my independence my immediate choice was to live in an area that completely defined "cool", hip and total rebellion: the iconic Kings Cross.  Well let's get real.  In the first instance it was Elizabeth Bay, but that was before it became the lush posh plush area it is now.

Little did I know that for the next 10 years or so I would end up living in and around this area and loving every minute of it.  2011 is SUCH an accommodating post code.

Way back in those day, Fitzroy Gardens (which at the time, being completely oblivious to anything other than my social scene, little did I realise that it even had a name!) was merely a short-cut to and from home.

It was  place that if you were lucky and some cool band was in town and staying at The Sebel, you might get a quick glance from them if you happened to accidentally on purpose walk directly in their path on the way to wherever.  But I digress.

Sure, there was the occasional Food & Wine Festival, which naturally I attended and thoroughly enjoyed to be gauged by the level of hang-over the following day (or days in some instances) but that was about it.

It was a dirty, smelly short cut and honestly nothing to get too excited about.

I had stopped going to Paddo markets, basically because it lost what was its genous. It's laid back, whatever happens happens type scene and suddenly gone incredibly up-market to the point that at times you felt that you simply didn't fit in if you weren't a size 0, weren't wearing pearls and didn't have your Prada on.

Being the proud square-peg I had absolutely NO intention of fitting in simply to be accepted, so I went on my merry way and found other means to amuse myself on a Saturday afternoon.

Fast-forward 10 years and a post-code later, I felt it was time to revisit my old home-ground and what I stumbled across was the singularly most earth-moving Oh-my-God moment of that day.

Markets?  Since when were there markets here?  Where on earth had that stinky old short-cut park gone?  Ohhhhhh....it's still here, but it's not a stinky old garden it's an amazing piece of paradise, which evoked such memory recall of me loving to roam the back streets of Darlo and Paddo just to see the architecture and hearing all the jazz emitting from various homes, I simply found myself instantly drawn in to its being.

I LOVE being a tourist in my own city!

So with a little bit of trepidation I took the first step in to what has now become one of my favourite Saturday destinations.  A little bit of street food, a little bit of home baking, a lotta flowers sold by Pat (now if you haven't met Pat before, she is an institution.  A diamond in the rough.  You either love her or hate her.  Took me a while (dang where did that young carefree confidence disappear to!) but gotta love her.  She says it how it is and it's not often you see that these days with everyone determined to be sheep and being so overly PC.

I have over time made some firm friends, one of whom recently relocated back to his home town in Adelaide and there is not a Saturday that goes by that I don't miss our chats, where we would scurry off, find a spot, share a million stories and have a running commentary on the fashion being worn on any given day.  Kings Cross Fashion Police we were!

She never fails to impress

My Mandatory start to the Market Day

THE ABSOLUTE BOMB

Joy Oi

Stunning Gerbera (from Pat of course!)

Two of the nicest guys on the planet and if you're lucky you may get a serenade!

The Wayside's Mascot

And a little fairy doing her weekly shopping

Now you tell me: What's not to love?

Kings Cross Markets

Orange Grove Organic Markets

Each Saturday Orange Grove Public School comes alive with the sound of organic food, hidden delights, entertainment and all round village-vibe which is something that Sydney so sorely requires.

Too often we are bound to the fibre-optics and tend to lose a sense of reality, so to be able to get to a place where people talk, share, laugh, shop and simply enjoy life and all it has to offer, is a blessing.

What impresses me about this particular market is that no matter what the weather the ever-faithful are there not only to satisfy their inner-organic-fix but probably most importantly to support local producers and as Henry (who is but one of the BHP'ers ....the quiet achievers) says "they expect us, they appreciate us, why wouldn't we be here".  A sentiment that should be echoed and deemed a mantra.

Whether it's a food trail you're after or simply taking time out to watch the kids have some fun riding the ponies, jumping on the castle or twirling away to the music, you would be hard pressed to NOT find at least one thing you fall in love with here.

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