I've always believed that the journey into the soul of a city takes you through its food markets. Greengrocers hawking their wares at the top of their voices, the diminutive Vietnamese lady selling you pok choy, the scrumptious meats, delectable cheeses and the smell of warm bread and freshly roasted coffee...the cacophony that ensues as a stall-holder cries out to drum up business and is challenged by his competitor across the aisle, the early-morning hiss and sluice of hoses on concrete floors, the clanging as trolleys are unloaded and later, the energy of buyer-seller banter. You get the picture.
To me, Central Market in Adelaide is truly a slice of heaven, simply because I love the sheer abundance of choices. If you don't like big white onions, buy the small purple ones. Don't like veggies? Buy meat. It is also a great place to people watch and the perfect place to be a shutterbug; there's always interesting activity to shoot. Be forewarned though - Central Market is only open on Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. My host, Mark Gleeson, asks me if I would like to try out the Greek yoghurt with real fruit topping. There awaits a patient group of willing customers. The stall is doing instant salads and there are a couple of dozen dressings to choose from. Pick a colour that turns you on. This market has plenty to choose from for the ready-to-eat fans.
For the main course, head towards the range of stalls with the mouthwatering displays of pastas, pizzas, savoury tarts and more. "We do the cooking so people don't have to worry about it. They just come here, pick it out and we box it up for them," says Laura, a stall owner. Gleeson adds, "It's really wholesome cooking, not your fast food takeaway."
You can complete your market dinner with fruits and cheeses. From the Barossa Valley to France, the choice of cheeses is exhaustive. Gleeson aptly names one new set of stalls 'the wall of cheese'. "Every day there are people coming along and saying we didn't know you existed in the market. They discover us, even though we've been here almost 20 years," he says.
Older European immigrants love the market's regional fare, including the drinkable tangy yoghurt called kefir. A traditional cultured milk drink that probably made its way into Eastern Europe from the Middle East, says the stall owner. He is going by the name and also the number of Turkish and Lebanese shoppers who seek it out.
Next we look in on Helena and family. She's the babushka of the Russian Piroshki stall, next to Zedz's Cafe, where we join other like-minded shoppers seeking out the 'fish of the day'. One former hotel chef consults another behind the refrigerator-counter laden with fresh seafood. Atlantic salmon is the day's special and while the stall's chefs plot its accompaniment, an unscripted gathering - a party of cooks - comes together at an adjacent table.

"Just sit around and talk and eat," says Gleeson. There are dishes from all over the world here, it's just wonderful. My table manners get lost in a haze of mouthwatering fare but I am patiently guided on how to tackle my plate of piroshkis... yes, you can eat them with your fingers. I hear someone say they are the hot dogs of Russia.
In Sydney, host, Marina Albert, recommends the Fish Market for lunch but when we get there it seems like everybody else was recommended to do the same - it's packed. We wander through the expansive enclave filled with lots of fresh seafood brought right in that day. In addition to this, there are vendors who sell wine (and uncork it for you), fresh bread, and fruits and vegetables so you can really have a complete meal right there. You get all the extras too - lemons to squeeze over fish and various dipping sauces.
Discovering what people eat is a great introduction to a city and I think that nowhere is this truer than at the local fish market. Here, I see seven major fish retailers selling everything from shark to Balmain bugs (small crayfish), with hundreds of species in between. The local pelicans are constantly on the prowl for fishy leftovers. There's also a sushi bar, a couple of cheap seafood eateries, a fruit market and a delectable deli.

Located on the waterfront at Piermont, the Sydney Fish Market is the largest of its kind in the Southern Hemisphere and the second largest, for variety, in the world. Eight hundred Australian and 105 overseas suppliers consign seafood to the market on a regular basis. If you are an early riser, (jet lag helps) seafood is auctioned every day starting 5 a.m. It's quite an experience to catch the early morning hustle and bustle as restaurateurs and retailers snap up the day's catch. And there's always coffee and a pastry from one of the stalls to perk you up after. There's so much more than just fish at the Fish Market; the gourmet delicatessens have plenty for those who can't stomach fish at that hour.
Even with the auction over, the Fish Market is still a fun place to browse around and look at swordfish and tuna, live crabs and iridescent trout. It's fascinating to watch as the staff delicately prepares enormous trays of sashimi with translucent salmon. With the harbour at its heart and bound by beaches, the people of Sydney are passionate about the sea - the surfing, yachting, fishing and its harvests. For the choicest fresh fish and seafood, discerning cooks head for the Sydney Fish Market, which is so popular that just before Christmas it remains open around the clock.
The Fish Market is also great if you don't want to spend a lot of money dining in one of Sydney's dearer restaurants. The cutlery is plastic, napkins are paper and plates are made from plastic, but this is fast food at its finest, with quality and freshness assured. We make our selection, stand in line, pay the cashier and then wait for ten minutes or less for our number to be called. Later we are lucky to share a table on the wharf alongside the market…and the view is free.

In Melbourne, Marg Ryding suggests a walk through Queen Victoria market and seriously, I think it's the biggest market I have ever seen, with everything you could wish for, from fruit and vegetables to boomerangs and didgeridoos, Iron Maiden and Jim Morrison tees and, inside the Victorian food section, endless stalls selling olives, gourmet cheeses, Germanic sausages, wine and balsamic vinegar, most of it organic.
Then there is the meat hall and the dairy hall. In all, I spend two hours just walking and looking, in complete awe. I now understand why tourists flock to Aussie markets. For the visitor, a market is an on-the-spot lesson in how people trade, relate to one another, converse and exchange. Besides, how else can you find out what's in season and what you should be ordering for lunch later that day? And all credit to the locals who know how best to keep their markets going and preserve their way of life, by visiting them and using them as often as possible.
The residents of Melbourne go soft at the sight of a tree-ripened cherry, just-picked white corn and organic goat's cheese at this wildly popular market. Queen Victoria Market has existed since 1863 and today it's a place where you can find multicultural fresh food to satisfy every taste bud.
What's brilliant about the market is that the growers, having a ready place for their produce, can experiment with unconventional varieties and because the produce doesn't have far to travel, it is left on the tree or vine until it reaches peak ripeness. From late summer to early autumn as many as 80 different farmers and producers sell triple-washed organic lettuces, biodynamic yoghurt, brook trout, sugar-snap peas, heirloom tomatoes, free-range chickens, homemade pretzels, wood-fired oven focaccia, vegetable-dyed wool and beeswax candles. Milk is sold in glass bottles, the fish is from fresh rivers and streams, and yes, the apples are big and juicy.

On Sundays a wine market appears and cafes and restaurants pop up around the market. More than just seafood and fruits and vegetables, find clothing, baggage, toys, jewellery, new-age products and souvenirs at sinfully low prices. The market takes on a fresh hue.
Seeing all that food makes me hungry, so I settle down for breakfast at one of the many street cafes, not just to eat, but also to eavesdrop on a group of Italian mammas arguing over their 'short blacks' (Aussie for strong coffee), and the German men folk guffawing in between mouthfuls of sauerkraut laden bratwurst. Melbourne appears to do multiculturalism well. As I chomp away, taking in Victorian brownstone buildings and registering the warm antipodean sunshine on the back of my neck, I decide that Oz is sure worth a repeat visit, even if just for its markets.