Beez Neez now Chy Whella

Tual Market

Big Bear and Pepe Millard

Thu 21 Jul 2016 22:47

Tual Market Bimble

We got up this morning and enjoyed breakfast in the cockpit nothing to do save wait for the Customs officials to arrive. We were half way through a game of backgammon when seven men arrived. Everyone settled with a glass of lemonade, the leader. who was also the youngest (looked about twelve) asked about alcohol and guns. We watched as a few forms were completed, chatted about football and Plymouth, all done and off they went.

We finished our game, did a few chores, ate lunch and went to explore ashore. The ladies at the information desk were very adamant we shouldn’t get the bus to town and only smiled after we promised to use a car both ways for five pounds and promised we wouldn’t get lost. Our driver took us on a tour of important buildings and dropped us at the ferry dock half an hour later – more reassurance that we would “meet him here at four o’clock, I’ll be waiting.” Having managed the souks of Morocco we decided on a straight line for an hour and a return on one street over, surely we could manage that................. The heat of the afternoon, the welcoming smiles and “hello Mister” – to both of us, and we were soon in bimble mode ready to attack the market.

Such a surprise after New Zealand and Australia to be in a third world environment complete with rooster tethered at the ankle.

The market was vaguely arranged by type, pots and pans, tools, fruit, clothes etc.

We got to the end of the first block and carried on.

We were now in beauty salon district and found the bank.

Along the next block. Later, I was told that three of our ladies (walking separately, not as a group) had been abused by one of the local Imams, who snarled and hissed waving his hands in a disgusted manner. Just as well it wasn’t to me or I would probably be wearing an orange suit and trying to speed learn Indonesian. The man should clearly hole himself up for the few days we are here, as we do bring easy money to the town with tours, shopping and the like. Very sad indeed.

At the end of the next block we did our right turn.

On the corner we stepped over a man hole quite big enough to accommodate a man, we saw our first rat. Admiring the new build several crews appeared after emerging from a leisurely lunch.

The boys posed with their guide, Harris and had a random female photo-bomber. (Grant – El Gato, Bruce – Matilda, Richard – Kereru, Michael – Wishful Thinking, Harris, Brian – Hybreasail and Bear).

The girls posed with a random male photo-bomber, with the boys female now nestled firmly in the gang. (Random, Lana - Matilda, Random. Gin – Wishful Thinking, Val – Kereru, Mary – El Gato, Deb – Matilda, Harris, Anne – Hybreasail and Me).

Back to our market bimble, this time with Gin and Michael. The boys bought a lined, long-sleeved, dress batik shirt for a fiver and I bought a shift dress for two pounds, having spent more on a pack of three yellow dusters in Tesco, I was chuffed with my new rig – except for the size. All the ladies here are pint sized and most stall holders had firmly shaken their heads. One took me to the rail on the far right which held dresses sporting the sticker ‘JUMBO’ – not the best word to make a girl feel well with her stature..................

After a few purchases at the fruit and veg section we found a torch shop.

I was watching two children enjoying their afternoon snack when the rooster below demanded to be noticed.

Crowing and strutting his stuff as far as his tether would allow.

Back to our pick up point in one piece we bimbled beyond and explored the fish market. Two youngsters wanted their picture taken.

I happened to be seen taking an interest in the piles of squid when several fishmongers around started waving their palms back and forth in ‘don’t buy that stuff’ fashion, on we went. The flies, we think had been running amok on said squid all day we mused, and the whitebait in the next section.