Otavalo is famous for having the one of the largest markets in South America. I went there to see the market and I intentionally went there during a weekday so that I wouldn’t have to deal with what I thought would be a huge crowd. I was right. There was no huge crowd. The market only comprised the central square. There weren’t a lot of buyers. I had been told that the market branches out on weekends to encompass the side streets for blocks and blocks and blocks. That isn’t the case during the week. I didn’t go to buy, I just went to see the town and get a feel for the market. If you want the full impact of the Otavalo Market, you need to go on Saturday. For more information click here.
I probably should tell you that America may be blessed in many areas, but it is sadly lacking in the variety of fruits and vegetables that God put on this planet. Places like Bogota, however, have been endowed with God’s abundant harvest. When we hit the market with Mike, the guide for Bogota Bike Tours, he started picking out and cutting up a variety of the local fruits for all of us to see and sample. It was great, if a little sticky. Mike even has a web page that talks about some of the fruit in much better detail than I could. It has lots of great pictures and and the names that I can not pronounce of some of the wonderful fruits that we ate. Go see Mike’s pictures here.
It was insanity intensified. It was the Sunday Market in Kuching. I’ve seen some big markets in my day. Really big ones. The one in Kuching was so big that I didn’t even try to find the end of it. I just wandered around aimlessly for a couple of hours and then called it quits. It’s to bad I didn’t need anything. There were some serious bargains to be had, I’m sure.
Every night they shut down the main drag to traffic and turn it into a pedestrian-only night market. With who-knows-how-many tourists hitting the city every year and a new crop of them arriving daily, the night market was a success. I’m not sure what happens during the monsoon season.
In my opinion, this was the best thing about the night market in Luang Prabang. Forget the cheesy souvenirs. Forget the t-shirts. Forget the elephant slippers and the jewelry. Right here is what’s happening at the night market. Food, and lots of it. Fresh food and, boy, did it look yummy. I didn’t have time to eat of a lot of it, but what I did try was great.
We stopped the bus on the way to Vang Vieng from Vientiane. The most interesting thing was that the roadside was covered with fish markets, one right after another. You’d think that they would try to differentiate themselves in some way, but, no, they were all almost identical in what they sold and how they presented it. That seems to be the norm in much of the under-developed world. I guess they think that if one fish stall is good, ten are even better.
It was my first dinner in Kuala Lumpur for 2011. It happened at the Central Market. It’s a simple meal of sugar cane juice, rice and some curry sauce. It set me back $1.
It’s the Central Market. I go there a lot to eat while I’m in Kuala LUmpur. They have a food court on the 2nd floor that has lots of cheap dining options and free wi-fi. My kinda’ place.
It’s my old friend KL Sentral. It’s the central transportation hub in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Here is where you can catch a train or the subway or a bus or a shuttle to the airport. I’m headed one stop north to Pasar Seni, the Cental Market where I like to stay in a cheap hotel full of backpackers. Unfortunately, my friend Mr. Lee sold the hotel this year. I wish him luck in his new endeavors.
I went to the Delhi Tourism office at about 8 AM to take the morning tour and what did I see spread out at for blocks in front of their office? A raging flower market. Not just any old flower market, this one was huge. I was told that it happens every day starting at 4 AM. The activity was mind-boggling. The trash was overwhelming. It was impossible to walk. I had to be extra careful not to step on or get too close to any of the stray animals and risk getting bitten, kicked, butted or otherwise injured. Only in India can the beauty of a million flowers be ruined by the insanity of a market.