Before we moved to Mallorca, all our food shopping was done at the local Sainsbury's. One clean sweep through the aisles on a Saturday morning and we were sorted until the next weekend. Working long hours at the Beeb during the week, I didn't want to spend my Saturdays scouring markets or individual food shops for the weekly necessities.
Since moving to the island, though, we've discovered the pleasure of buying our fresh produce in the small shops and market in our nearest town, Manacor. We've found an excellent butcher, the best bakery for ensaïmadas and delicious wholemeal croissants, and know where to buy the most succulent prawns. We potter around the market staking out the fresh fruit and vegetables (most of which are locally grown) and generally have a jolly time, bantering with the traders in our version of Spanish.
As our Saturday morning shopping trip progresses, The Boss begins to take on the appearance of an overburdened donkey (minus the hairy ears), with bulging straw baskets hanging from each shoulder. Being a true gentleman, he refuses to let me share the load, but always has a whinge about having to carry the stuff. But his reaction when I suggested a possible solution? No way was he going to use one of those shopping trolley things.
Granted, I wouldn't personally have been seen with one on the streets of Oxfordshire - even if I'd been heavily disguised - but I look around any Mallorcan town or village and there are plenty of women (and men) of all ages using them. There's no apparent stigma to them here - and why should there be when they make shopping easier and less tiring? In fact, they could almost be seen as something of a status symbol - saying far more about you than a clutch of splitting Mercadona carrier bags. And, on that note, they're also better for the environment! (See my chum Vicki's blog Married With Children Mallorca for her stance on plastic carrier bags).
Like cars, there's a range to suit all tastes and budgets: choice of fabrics; two or four-wheeled; some with brakes; some with optional thermal side pockets - perfect when shopping for fish or a secret stash of Magnums.
Perhaps the Rolls Royce of shopping trolleys is the Rolser. Say it quickly and "Mine's a Rolser" has something of a ring about it, don't you think? Unlike cars, you don't need a licence, though experience suggests that some trolley-owning folks could use a few 'driving' lessons.
So, in the interests of becoming more like Mallorcans, we might just invest in a shopping trolley.
Clear a path . . . coming through!
Copyright Jan Edwards 2008
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1 comment:
I've read it, I agree with it, but there's still that little voice in my head (and it's my mother's, actually)saying "Never, never" because they are for Old People. she died aged 79, still struggling with the shopping bag. D xx
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