Queen Victoria Market: The Pearl of the City

July 2017

It’s an early Sunday morning in September, and the air is the kind of cold that lingers from the night before but is sure to dissipate as the day goes on. Wispy clouds trail overhead and puddles left over from overnight rain reflect the sunlight back into my eyes. Despite the early hour, the market is bustling. Small families push strollers towards piles of vibrant fruit while older couples link hands and wander through the deli isles, and teenagers line up for treats being sold out of charming pastel vans. I stop to buy a cup of chai and marvel as the steam dances in the air.

The scene is not out of a movie, nor a picture book. No, this is the Queen Victoria Market, oftentimes referred to simply as the Vic Market, located just outside the central business district in Melbourne, Australia. The market is cradled by the city, with tall buildings rising around it, but the modern metropolitan feel that permeates the rest of the CBD doesn’t continue within the market itself. In fact, part of the charm of the market, I find, is the vintage feel that hints at its long past and historical significance.

The market was first established in the 19th century and has a long, tumultuous history. Prior to the formation of the Queen Vic Market, Melbourne had two other markets that eventually fell out of favour – the Eastern and Western markets. In addition, much of the land that the Vic Market currently sits on was the site of the Old Melbourne Cemetery. Although some of the bodies were exhumed and reburied when the upper and lower portions of Vic Market were established, over 9000 bodies are estimated to still be entombed beneath the feet of the popular destination.

While some might find that story creepy or off-putting, I would rather think of it as turning a place of death into one of life. The Vic Market of today is such a lively place, with street music and laughter weaving through the air and small children pulling their parent’s hands towards chickens sleeping in their cages. It’s a place that combines the old and the new, with the modern cafeteria feeling right at home next to the art deco embellishments in the deli hall and the shipping container stalls.

Enamoured, I take my paper plate of poffertjes – tiny Dutch buckwheat pancakes topped with powdered sugar and a squeeze of lemon – and make my way up the halls. I see low tables selling potted succulents, huge canvases of oil paintings, and soaps made to look like sugary confections; intricate handmade jewellery, piles and piles of fruit, shelves topped with rounds of cheeses teetering over each other, and glistening meats displayed behind glass. Each new stall is a treasure trove of jewels just waiting to be discovered. It’s true, some of the jewels greatly resemble cheap clutter, but half the joy is in the search.

I wander for nearly an hour, until the sun truly makes itself known and I feel the need to take my scarf off. Nevertheless, as I look for a garbage bin to dump my now-soggy plate, I’m sure that I have not even come close to seeing all the place has to offer. But that’s no surprise. The market itself is huge – it spreads across two city blocks, approximately seven hectares. Known as the largest open-air market in the Southern Hemisphere, the broad expanse of options and relatively low prices attracts thousands of shoppers, both locals and tourists alike.

Feeling a little overheated and suspecting that my observations were at an end, I find myself on a slightly damp seat back at Queen Street Plaza, taking small sips of an overly sweet cup of sugar cane juice. After a while two slightly older women take the seats across from me, and, smiling brightly, ask me where I’m from.

“Oh, I’m from Indonesia,” I say, smiling back at them. “But I go to university here.”

“That’s so great,” one of them replied. “We’re from Sydney, just got in the other day. It’s amazing here.”

I laugh and ask in jest, “Better than Sydney?”

“Of course!” the other exclaims. “Why do you think we’re here?”

Perhaps that is the true magic of the market. Not the buildings, sellers, or even the produce, but the spirit of it all, the atmosphere, that draws in people near or far to gather together and enjoy the day in each other’s company. And that’s worth saving.