I’ve come home. Not to a physical residence but to where my soul needs to be. I am sitting in one of my favourite coffee shops in the middle of the Adelaide Central Markets. I am basking in the familiar smells and the familiar faces that have aged in the last five years since I left for Central Queensland.
Some things have changed, yet many things have not and it is these things that make me feel that I have come home; my warm scones, my perfect cappuccino, the ‘shouty man’ across the way spruiking his gorgeous fresh produce, the calmness in the faces of the consumers, the delight in the faces of the children as they walk along indulging in free samples of exotic fruits and pungent cheeses.
The pumpkins are stacked high, the tea and coffee samples are ready for the taking and in the far distance I can faintly smell Nag Champa burning from the hippy shop. The colours are vibrant, the sounds are glorious, the scones are delicious and the coffee is perfect. I’m home.
I head to the flower stall to pick up a bunch of colour for my mother. This is not the Woolworths selection I am used to; this is bucket after bucket after bucket of hundreds and hundreds of flowers. I had forgotten that so many varieties of flowers even existed!
I continue up and down the aisles awakening my senses, wishing I had more on my list than cauliflower, pumpkin and beetroot. I’m wishing that I had more time before my flight so I can purchase and consume the gorgeous triple brie, fresh farm eggs, freshly baked baguettes or home-made dips, but I don’t, so I leave nearly empty handed, relishing in the time that I did get to spend at one of my favourite places in the world.