Markets--of Various Sorts

Bon jour, mes amies,

I experienced some disorientation this morning.  My watch said one time, but the phone and computer insisted it was an hour later.  I wondered if I'd been idiotic enough to set my watch to the wrong time and then didn't notice it for six days.  But that didn't make sense to me.  Then the euro dropped.  I looked on google, and sure enough last night was the transition to daylight savings time in the EU.
It's Sunday in Nice, so I decided to attend the markets.  I started up Avenue Jean Medecin, which is the main shopping street in Nice and also sort of pedestrianized because of the tram lines.  I could have taken the tram to Place Liberation, but it was a straight shot and flat so I walked it licking windows as I went.  The Avenue in question is named for a famous and revered figure in Nice History.  He was the mayor of the city.  Then suddenly he disappeared, only to reemerge in the Western Hemisphere in possession of the city treasury.  I guess that's one way to distinguish oneself enough to get a main street named after one.
Along the way, I encountered some heavily armed military as well as lots of police cars and officers.  I don't know if this is routine on a busy shopping day with crowds of people (Many stores now do open on Sunday in France) or if something was actually up.
Marche Liberation is where the locals come to shop.  It's mostly vegetables and fruits, and they are lovely.  Alas my digestion is too fragile for foreign veg.  I have tried, and the experiment ended badly.  But I like to look anyway.  The stall holders tout the fact that their products are from nearby named places.  This is a big market, and it was crowded and bustling.  The French also like to take their beloved dogs with them shopping.  This pleases me.
I strolled back down the avenue--licking windows as I walked, of course.  I dropped into the fancy shopping mall Nice Etoile to look around and also because by then I needed a toilet.  The mall is very nice, but not that big, and has the usual chains.  Since the ticket machine at the toilet was broken, the attendant waved us all in without us having to pay.  Score!
I also dropped into the big Sephora and helped myself to some perfume. Guerlain Terra Cotta.  Very nice.  And I looked around in case some magical anti aging treatment sat on the shelf.  Nope.
I then walked down to the Med and along the shore--because I could.  That's why.
I turned aside to go to the Cours Saleya Market.  It was packed with both humans and their dogs.  Big knots of tourists blocked the streets, but I persisted. I was after some authentic local food.  I had to wait for it though.  I arrived just as the last portion was sold, and the next portion would arrive by bicycle from the place it was actually made.  But I had the chance to people and dog watch.
Would you like a bite of the Nicoise specialty socca?  Of course, you would!  But since you are not here, I will be your proxy and taste it for you.  Socca is a huge pancake affair made with chickpea flour. It's fried and then slices are scraped up, pepper is added, and then the slices are wrapped in a paper cone.  The bits from around the edge of the socca are dark and crisp.  The bits from the middle are lighter and soft.  All are good!  Now I happen to like chickpeas or garbonzos---after all I eat hummus for breakfast, but this new form is tasty.  It doesn't have a strong or weird flavor, so no one should be afraid to try it.  It tastes like a chickpea pancake, and goes great with rose.
A demain