Shopping Trolley (Carrito)

This is my carrito (shopping trolley). I'm a big fan.

Of course in Australia (or the UK) I wouldn't have been seen dead with one. There, shopping trolleys are strictly for old ladies. And having said that, my Mum, who would kill me if were to reveal her precise age so I'll just I say you'd find a Seniors' Card if you went rummaging though her purse, still steadfastly refuses to invest in one.

Here in Spain though, it seems just about everyone has one. And they're brilliant.

I use mine especially for a trip to the mercado (market) - and by that I mean the real market, not the SUPERmarket.

I didn't go to the market much when I lived in Madrid. You need to invest a good whack of time to shop there, you see, and I was always too busy. But here in BCN I've had a little more time on my hands.

A trip to the market starts off with a few laps to compare the produce at the different puestos (stalls). If you're new to a market it’s a good idea to use these laps check out which stalls have the most people waiting at them as they're likely to have the best stuff.

Once you've chosen your stall, you need to find your place in the "queue". There's a definite etiquette to this. You must announce your arrival (and your intention not to jump the queue) by clearly asking "¿Quien es la ultima?" ("Who is last in line?").

It's likely you've already worked that out though as that very person will be looking at you with a glare that silently but succinctly says "I'm before you, right?!" This look will not dissolve into a smile until you've asked the question and received the reply "Yo" (me).

¿Quien es la ultima?

This process never fails to give me a chuckle, but it's catching. These days I find myself shooting that same look to whoever joins the throng directly after me as I too wait to hear the reassuring question.

Secure in the knowledge of who is before and who is after you, there's nothing much to do now but wait and then wait some more.

At the carnicería (butcher), it seems everyone has their own particular idea on how they want their meat cut. At the quesería (cheese stall) it’s almost obligatory to try a little of this one or a little of that one before making up one’s mind. And there’s still the frutería (greengrocer) and the charcutería (cold meats stall) to go. Then, for each, you need to factor in time for a quick chat about recent events, the weather or how the grandkids are doing.

Yes, that’s right, the grandkids. You see, generally (and this is where we come back to old ladies), it's me and the abuelas - literally "grandmothers" - at the market.

Not that I mind. I like being amongst the abuelas. You sort of become the centre of attention: a young(ish) MAN shopping at the market is a little novel. Add my thick accent to the mix, and you’ve got a conversation.