On Saturday morning Dan and I made our way to a morning market we had been hearing a lot about. We took the train a few stops and then walked from the Salt River stop. The walk to the market was interesting. This area was pretty run-down. A lot of buildings were boarded up and it had a different feel to it.
Our first indication that we were close to the market was a big group of white people. (I should mention that the crowd at the market was 99.9% white people) We followed them into the area known as the "The Old Biscuit Mill Neighbourhood Market" We were quite surprised at what we found. This was no ordinary farmers market. You could find just about any organically grown, speciality artisan food you dreamed of. You could also drink champagne with your grilled mushroom kebabs or have a pint of beer as you browsed the tables of cupcakes and acai berry drinks. We felt weird about it. I am conflicted because I am naturally drawn to such environments. I love farmers markets, a lot. Everything was really beautiful and colourful. It was evident that people put so much work into the food and vegetables they were selling.
This post isn't meant to be judgemental or completely critical of the market, or of the people sipping their morning coffees and champagne (Dan and I enjoyed a coffee as we walked around). I think for us, it was just a bit shocking and I think it's a good representation of the economic divide that exists in Cape Town and the rest of South Africa. It's tricky business, trying to come to terms with the realities you see everyday while still enjoying yourself as you would anywhere else.