Market of Garz Isle

In Book 2 - Gemmy and Sem travel to Garz Isle for the summer. It's part of the 'young citizens' programme' that is supposed to get city kids out into the more rural territories of Garz. You can imagine that neither are that impressed.

Here's a written impression of the market in the town where they're sent to, Gaz City, the capitol of Garz Isle. It has a lot of character as it's a mish-mash of the humanek and Rhe'zan who originally inhabited the island. It makes me think of my visit to the souq in Marrakesh.

I could write these scene impressions forever but I try to keep them to two pages in my writing journal. They're pretty much scaffolding for the book - ie it's just for me to have in my head as I'm taking the characters through the places.

Enjoy the Gaz City market:

"Everything is a hazy yellow - the colour of sun-blinkered sand. Even the air smells of it - sand and heat and ocean breeze and fish - everywhere you go there is an underlying reek of fish. Some places it's more pervasive than others, but it is always there, like a memory.

"There is a large square. In the centre is a parched grand fountain, the statue atop it of some winged god. Most of the buildings are made of adobe and no more than two stories high save for the impressive state house with its third story, large dome and aviary. Their unpainted pale yellow façades hum in the sunlight. Those that are painted are brightly coloured - sky blue, white, buttercup yellow - like play things - sweet shops and bakeries all inviting the customer with their eye.

"Behind the line of respectable shops there is a market street. It is wide enough for a compliment of four elephants to march down side by side. It is crowded with makeshift shop fronts and market stall all selling unique items.There is a well worn path of packed clay that paves the market with a shallow gutter running it's length. It's collected the spoils and spills from the stalls and has a fetid reek that fades into the back of your consciousness the longer you stay. There's no hint of rain, only the a damp warmth that keeps everything coated in a thin film of moisture. It's hot and unpleasantly cramped despite its width, crowds jostling back and forth. It's the type of place you would fear pickpockets if thievers weren't so severely punished.

"The meaters, fishers, weavers and merchants of every type, reputable or not, create a tapestry of sounds and smells as they boost their wares. They stand on guard, swatting constantly at the flies. There are the tiny nits that are harmless but the larger blue flies hover and bite and must be kept at bay.

"Down an alley there is an overhead causeway that connects two buildings. The intersection of the buildings forms a small square of it's own - the wanders close - where sellers peddle charms of shells and polished stone, glass bottles filled with rotten liquids and animal limbs to hang 'round your neck for love or fertility. There's a powerful smell of something sweet - incense - flower petals mixed with the heavy musk of reed bark used to invite benevolent spirits. There are many closes here on this mile long market that encloses the main square. These are where the physics, mercenaries, toxickers and other non-prescriptive services huddle together, each their own unique bloom of scents adding to the already powerful bouquet of the market."

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