Yungaburra Markets

It's not often that my brilliant idea to go to Yungaburra markets actually gets us there. It's usually because I've got the day or the week wrong, or forgotten that we're going somewhere else, but yesterday the market gods and I were in perfect harmony for once.

The sun was shining, so we followed the advice of our Innisfail friends and wore just about all of the clothes we own. They're of the opinion that anywhere on the Atherton Tablelands will always be at least five degrees colder than here in Innisfail, and it was advice we did well to follow. The sun may have been out but there was an icy wind whistling through the stalls.

It was pretty easy to pick the locals. For the most part they were the ones rugged up in ski-jackets and ugg boots. The tourists  were easy to spot too, blue skinned and shivering, they were the ones warming themselves in the steam from their over-priced coffees. Occasionally, we'd spot that Queensland oddity, the barefoot man, clad in shorts, singlet and a beanie - to keep out the cold.

For me, a trip to the markets always seems to have the thrill of a treasure hunt; I don't know what's there but I suspect it's something good and it's out there somewhere, I just have to find it. It may be an interesting book at the second-hand stall, a spicy pastry triangle to tempt the taste buds and/or spill down my shirt or the latest nut cracker/torch/socket set/pocket knife gadget, all have to be checked out. 

Cyndi found her treasure at a stall that was just closing for the day, a purple skirt for a dollar. She was the only successful treasure hunter yesterday, I found nothing. No repeat of the cappuccino ice-cream discovered at Port Douglas markets, or the $8 autobiography of an Australian prisoner of war who'd worked on the Thai-Burma railway, found at Rusty's market a week after getting back from Hellfire Pass in Thailand. 

I did consider buying a couple of books at the book stall but figured I'd never have the time to read them, something I find quite ironic. I thought going to uni would mean lots of reading, and I guess to a certain extent it does, though it's more skimming to gather information than reading for pleasure. Still, by the time I finish my degree in a few year's time, I'll have a couple of Lee Child or Stuart McBride novels to catch up on. By my calculations, there'll also be around 250 new James Patterson novels on the shelves by then too.