The Chinese, apparently, do their shopping daily, from the markets.
A Chinese market is different to any other market I’ve ever seen. Meat is cut out in the open (no fridges) your seafood meal swims around in front of you, and your chicken dinner meets you before you decide that this one looks nice and plump and healthy, just perfect for tonight’s butter chicken. And then you carefully watch it weighed and killed. You must get a good deal. Pick your eggs yourself (no cartons, just a plastic bag, be careful) from extremely large stacks, and choose your mushrooms carefully. Oh, and the people at the stalls will peel your potatoes if you want, for you, no extra charge.
My sister Rachel buying mushrooms. There are more different kinds than I thought possible for mushrooms.
The meat section stinks. Ick! However, carnivores can’t be choosers, so you hold your nose and buy on. 
Poor ducks (and what that other meat once was) Dinner, anyone?
I’m definitely a tourist to take photos of the eggs. The red stamped characters do look good on a white egg, and black and white looks almost stunning. I suppose the elaborate strokes mean nothing more than “Sunny Farm Eggs”.
So now you see (a little) why Chinese markets are so interesting. A great experience. Would I want to do it every day? No.
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