Usually when people travel, they want to see historic landmarks and cultural attractions. I do that too, but afterwards I find myself drawn to more mundane destinations.
I usually end up spending time in very pedestrian supermarkets. I can’t seem to help myself. One minute I’m admiring the sights and colours of a new country; the next, I’m making a detour into a fluorescent-lit convenience store checking out their range of toothpaste and how much potato chips cost in their currency.
To me, it’s very interesting to see what others eat and how others live. You learn a lot from grocery stores about people’s diets and snacks.
How are the meats displayed and packaged? What kind of seafood and fish are readily available? What are those vegetables that I’ve never seen before?
I also find it paradoxically comforting and depressing to see the same goods show up on the shelf of a suburban Sydney supermarket and a corner shop in the heart of Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.
The same preference the world over for the same cheap chocolate bars is maybe a subtle sign that we are all the same and we should get along better. However, when I see a wall of plastic 1.5-litre bottles of Coke in the middle of Morocco and in northernmost Sweden, it’s an annoying reminder of how ubiquitous retail imperialism is.
As I stroll down grocery aisles, it’s fascinating to do price comparisons. I’m mentally converting the cost of cans of tuna, loaves of bread, minced meats and chicken legs, to check against Hong Kong prices.
In Western countries where abundance is often as significant as freshness, a real eye-opener for many Asian visitors are places like Costco, where spaghetti sauce comes in 6lb (2.8kg) jars and sirloin steaks are found in packs of a dozen.
The real jaw-dropper for some Asian mothers is when they come face to face with a monolith of toilet paper in 48-roll packs.
Inevitably, I do end up making purchases that might seem random and ridiculous, but they were some of my most satisfying souvenir buys. Halloumi cheese is not as common and is rather expensive here in Hong Kong, but in the dairy section of a really big Coles supermarket in Sydney, vacuum-sealed 1kg blocks were cheap and plentiful – and I had the luggage space.
From Spain and Italy, I’ve brought home loads of chorizo, olive oil, sun-dried tomatoes, and even wild rosemary I clipped from a yard. In Korea, I loaded up on discounted face wash and dried potato noodles.
Most recently, returning on a night flight from Vietnam, I stashed my favourite banh mi sandwich from Ho Chi Minh City in my backpack, to eat for dinner when I arrived home after 10pm. To me, that is way more memorable than a tourist T-shirt or cheap trinket from local hawkers.
Of course, I also love browsing farmers’ markets – or for the sake of semantics, wet markets, in Asian countries. It’s just frustrating you can’t possibly buy so much fresh produce to consume or cook during a short trip.
Even though we have few import restrictions or curbs, I’m not crazy enough to carry enormous bags of vegetables and fruit onto a plane. Although I have seen “aunties” do that.
What I do have, also from my Ho Chi Minh trip, is a lot of Vietnamese cha lua sausage if anyone would like some.
