England had begun to taste of Autumn, chestnut leaves starting to curl. But I followed the swallows south to vines and late summer, where road side stalls still displayed boldly painted signs for apricots, melons, peaches.
An early morning market set up beneath pink and white oleander trees, birds cheeping, sun glinting on the salt lagoon just beyond. Still air, the sound of a van pulling up and sliding open its doors to reveal piled banana boxes full of stock, the café on the corner murmuring with sleepy customers over their first coffee. Municipal planters still lush with marigolds, petunias, grasses and cascading leaves. What could be better than the promise of a market in the bright morning.
First purchase from a venerably old Monsieur setting out small items on a lace table cloth: a worn, silvery Jaz alarm clock with feet and a big bell on top, purely decorative. “It doesn’t work very well, would you not prefer one of these?” he asked, pointing to bright red, 1970’s models. “Non, ca va, merci, I prefer to have a lie in!” I replied as I handed over my euros.
Exquisitely worked monogrammes on linen sheets caught my breath. How could I not admire and buy? The wiry, petite woman in her apron was still laying out linen, lace and flat ware. “These are from Ercuis,” she said, “a well-known brand, like Christofle.” I asked the spelling of Ercuis, and the neighbouring stall holder was called over as the three of us mulled phonetic possibilities. I bought a set of cutlery and Madame popped an extra fork, estranged from any partner, into the bag – the fork that I now use every day at home.
On to Pezenas for the rest of the day with many dealers to visit along the avenue de Verdun. I made my way round a warren of a shop with furniture stacked on top of furniture. At least two generations have run this business, and now Papa chats from behind his desk. He wants to tell me all about his grandchildren and his grandchildren’s children. The son looks over to me with a smile, “Mon Papa est bavard”. Then he says very sweetly to his father, “Papa, la dame aime prendre son temps et regarder doucement.” (Papa, the lady likes to take her time and quietly look around……) But Papa responds “Ah, yes, but I like to chat!” They are a delight. I relish these exchanges and vignettes. I buy a walnut side table and two foxed mirrors in glowing giltwood frames. Barry will call by later to collect. Laurent’s shop is next…..
