Mercado de la Esperanza

Icono Español. Icon Spanish Situada detrás del ayuntamiento, con presencia habitual de viandantes y vehículos que transitan su contorno acotado por carreteras hábiles, está el Mercado de la Esperanza. Al cobijo del singular edifico de piedra y metal que contiene los comercios habita una pequeña plaza ocupada por las mañanas con puestos ambulantes, prolongación del mercado. Varios días a la semana las calles aledañas son invadidas por otros puestos de flores, plantas, cuadros y menaje del hogar.

Un paso tras otro conducían a Pedro hacia la plaza. Acompañado por su madre, la ciudad no parecía tan grande desde sus 7 años. Una amalgama de personas, productos y tenderetes ocultaba las baldosas de la calle Los Escalantes. El bullicio matutino cruzaba conversaciones privadas con proveedores y profesionales que anunciaban su producto entre chascarrillos, sonrisas y la mirada curiosa de un niño. Marta agarro a su hijo con fuerza y le dijo “no te separes de mí y no toques nada”. Caminando a paso ligero se dirigieron a la entrada.

El Sol que iluminaba la calle, lucia el edificio de piedra y la cristalera de la segunda planta disparaba fugaces reflejos del astro. La entrada a la plaza sustituyó la luz natural por la luz filtrante de los focos del interior. La atmósfera estaba teñida de colores y formas sombreadas que ambientaban el lugar. Las pescaderas ordenaban el producto, limpiaban los peces e iban atendiendo a los clientes. Cabrachos rojizos y de peculiar aspecto completaban el muestrario de sardinas, salmonetes y bocartes que tenia el puesto número dos a la entrada del recinto. Marta cruzaba con andar sereno hacia su puesto de confianza, ojeando la mercancía. Los ojos del niño alumbraban allá donde la madre mirase…

Hope Market

Icono Inglés. Icon English Placed behind the town hall, with habitual presence of pedestrian and vehicles that circulate its contour annotated by skilful roads, is the Market of the Hope. To the shelter of the singular building of stone and metal that contains the stalls there is an small square occupied in the mornings with ambulant shops, prolongation of the market. Several days a week the bordering streets are invaded by other flower stands, plants, pictures and furniture of the home.

One step after other were leading Pedro towards the marketplace. Accompanied by his mother, the city did not seem to be so big from his 7 years. An amalgam of persons, products and stands was concealing the tiles of the street Los Escalantes. The morning hustle was crossing private conversations with suppliers and professionals who were announcing the product between funny stories, smiles and the curious look of a child. Marta strongly caught his son and said to him “you do not separate of me and do not touch anything “. Walking quickly they went at the entry.

The Sun that was illuminating the street, shined the building of stone and the windows of the second floor was shooting fleeting reflections of the star. The entry to the square replaced the natural light with the filtering light of the lightbulbs that were inside. The atmosphere was dyed of colors and shaded forms that were setting the place. The fishmongers were arranging the product, cleaning the fish and attending to the clients. Reddish scorpion fishes with peculiar aspect were completing the sample of sardines, red mullets and anchovies that had the stand number two at the entry of the enclosure. Marta was crossing, serenely towards his stall of confidence, and seeing the goods. The eyes of the child were lighting there where the mother was looking…

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