All the News Fit to Print

The NY Times ran the article. As well as msn, the splash page even. I figured it must be true. “One of the best flea markets in America is at Treasure Island, just moments away from downtown San Francisco, Sundays only. 6 am – 4 pm. But arrive early, as many vendors leave by 2 pm.”

I dreamed of the gems I would find. It was the “Sunday activity” for my parents’ visit. We’d explore together, amazed at the treasures we’d unearth. We aimed to leave the city by 7 am – eager not to miss any bargains. Heavy fog enshrouded the island, giving it a mystical feel. We drove to the address. Not a soul stirred. No flea market, no cars, no people, no sign of life whatsoever. We continued around the small island. It was practically deserted. After circling the island twice, I had a deja vu of searching for the woodworking village while in Korea. Here I have the advantage of speaking the language, which didn’t really help, as I left the island just as befuddled as ever. No flea market, no activity, no riches to be discovered.

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