Paddy's Markets

We're entering the home stretch now as the light rail finally abandons Darling Harbour and swings into the city trundling up Hay Street to my next destination, Paddy's Markets.  The light rail spat me out onto the street directly in front of the eponymous market.  Despite knowing better I decided to go inside.

Paddy's Market was once Sydney's premier fruit and vegetable market supplying both wholesalers and individuals whose hatred of vegetables had reached such a peak that nothing less than the ability to tear them apart with their teeth would satisfy their unreasoning malice.  That has gone for the most part to larger premises out at Flemington which has the twin advantages of being (slightly) closer to the source of most of the produce and situated on land that is considerably cheaper.  In its place is Market City.

How best to describe Market City?  Imagine if you made the mistake of feeding a two dollar shop after midnight.  It's like that.  Stall after stall of tacky, useless crap that only serves a purpose when you have forgotten the birthday of a relative that you dislike but can't ignore.  There are also clothes stalls where you buy the sort of garb that you wear when you want to impress the welfare officers with your poverty and the kind of souvenirs that make the folks back home rather glad that they didn't come with you.  At present you also need to get your temperature taken before they'll let you in.

Once you've struggled past all of the above there is still a small vegetable market out the back selling somewhat dishevelled farm produce.  Some of it was also part eaten although I'm not blaming the vendors for that, I suspect a customer (to use the term broadly) decided to sample the wares before purchase.  Across the road there was a small restaurant whose sign announced "Japanese Dining" but I looked closely and I'm pretty sure there weren't any.

Having exhausted the delights of Market City I emerged blinking into the sunlight and crossed the road (and light rail line) into Chinatown.  Every city in the world seems to have a Chinatown.  Sydney's is quite modest consisting of a couple of streets that parallel Darling Harbour (the light rail hadn't got too far away from it).  Dixon Street is the main drag, it has been converted into pedestrian access only and as you walk along it you can almost think that you're in, pretty much any city with a lot of Chinese restaurants.  There weren't a lot of people about because there aren't at the moment.  I don't think it had anything to do with the specific appeal of Dixon Street per se.

The place is called Chinatown for the same reason there is a suburb in Western Sydney called Blacktown.  I'm pretty sure both these places would have different names if they were being titled today.  Chinatown runs north until it merges with the rest of the city and the CBD a change that can be noticed by the gradual dropping off in Chinese lettering on the shop signs.  I wandered up Dixon Street and down Sussex Street and by that time I was pretty much done with Chinatown.  If you're not hungry and there isn't a festival happening there isn't a lot of point in visiting.  I did notice the occasional Korean restaurant lurking modestly among the Chinese so I've made a mental note to return at some more hunger intensive time.

To make the experience complete I hopped on the other light rail (the bigger, slower, more costly one) at its Chinatown stop and very slowly made my way into the remainder of the city.  Light rail blogs are all very well but I had a dressing gown to buy.