Mossman Market

Heather, Tiyana and I took the day off to visit Mossman, which is back across the ferry. We had some serious food shopping to do as we had found, in this land of tropical fruit, none was for sale in the Rainforest settlements. Also I needed some anti-hystamine tablets as I had been bitten on the knee whilst weeding a few days before by something and my leg was starting to swell painfully with some interesting colours.
The journey through the winding road (very like that leading from Cockermouth to Buttermere but with a lot more trees) was made interesting with our minute by minute expectation of seeing an actual cassowary. This did not happen. However, there was quite a large crocodile hauled out by the ferry on the Daintree River so we did not feel too short-changed.
Land around Mossman has been cleared of forest for sugar cane but as we entered the town we were charmed to see the Saturday market in full swing under some of the biggest rainforest trees we had ever seen. As they had had no competition for perhaps 100 years they had spread and branched casting a monumental shade. The stalls were as dwarfed as if they had been erected in a living cathedral and the historic church (selling tea and homemade cakes) could have been a side chapel. Every branch of the trees was covered in a lush green sward of epiphytes. They are magnificent!
The market was small and jovial with local people all selling and buying lots of local produce, fruit and veg and handicrafts. There were end of season mangoes, 'Going cheap' Lady's finger plantains, chunky yellow and splitting along the seams, ripe wrinkled Passionfruit and some enormous Jackfruit, spiny as pangolins, none of which I could resist. (I regreted the last purchase over the following week as its malodorous ripening knew no barriers.) After loading the car we returned to the French crepe booth, to discuss our meal - any filling from fraise to camembert, grenadillo to shrimps - with its fiercely French chef, not only dressed in the part in striped shirt and beret but also with an accent straight from Montmartre. He was with Continental astuteness pitched next to the laconic Australian expresso coffee lady, so we had an entertaining, tasteful and multicultural lunch.
Regretably, we were then too late to go and explore the famous Mossman Gorge behind the town but it makes a good excuse for another visit - probably on another Saturday.