The Papaya Lady Knows My Name Now: How One Weekly Market Run Turned a Resort Stay Into a Home
Somewhere between my third Saturday buying mangoes from the same vendor and learning which stall had the good limes, my month-long workation stopped feeling like a trip. Turns out the difference between visiting a place and living in it is about six feet of market table and a regular routine. Here's the case for making the local market your first real errand — plus a checklist for building your own neighborhood rhythm in week one.