Being a "foodie" is a delightful infatuation that can lead to all sorts of unexpected situations. And so it was that I found myself at 4:30 on a dark and drizzly summer morning in Paris, waiting for a bus to take me to a market.
Most rational individuals would not wrench themselves out of bed at such an hour for a trip to the market. But this was no ordinary market. I had signed up for a tour of Rungis, the largest fresh food market in the world.
Rungis, on the outskirts of Paris, is a wholesale food market - to the trade only. Previously located in central Paris in an area still called Les Halles, it was moved in the early 1970s to ease congestion in the city.
The market covers 573 acres, an area larger than Monaco. It welcomes 26,000 cars every day and nourishes one-fifth of the French population. Meat, fruit, vegetables, fish, and flowers converge here from across France, Europe, and the world before scattering to supermarket aisles or the finest Paris restaurants.
"Rungis is a real town in itself," said Michel Lartigue, our tour guide, as I got into the minibus with a dozen other sleepy tourists. "As well as all the food halls, there are banks, post offices, hairdressers, hotels, restaurants - you name it."
A short while later, we drove into Rungis. Hangars, streets, and lines of cars and trucks stretched as far as the eye could see. Wearing mandatory white overalls and hairnets provided by Michel, we stopped first at the fish market in a vast, recently built air-conditioned hall.
A typical day at the market starts at 2 a.m., which accounted for our early departure. The fish market opens before the others to ensure that the fish is as fresh as possible.
It was only 5:30 a.m. when we arrived, but the vendors were already winding down, pouring crushed ice on leftover seafood - squid, sardines, whole tuna, more fish than I could identify - before putting them in boxes for storage.
After a quick tour, we moved on to the poultry market in an older hall with an impressive arched ceiling made of wood. Here, a warm light glowed on the morning's activity as vendors, mostly men in dirty white aprons, bustled around their stalls, offering plucked chickens, pheasants, guinea fowl, and even foie gras for sale.