Wednesday, 28 May 2014

Bucolic car boot sale

Or as we say here: Vide Grenier — emptying one's attic.
Compared to the Boot sales I remember from the UK days, most V.Gs are set in small villages, usually on sunny days, where you can wander, perusing the usual glut of hastily bought and subsequently dumped Get Fit equipment, clothes, shoes, fois gras funnels, records, video cassettes that nobody wants, terrible paintings, plants, kittens, jam, etc etc.
The last V.G I went to before departing back to the UK for a few days (where I didn't go to a car boot sale — not for the want of trying) was in the grounds of a local church edifice: the Basilique Notre Dame de Marcheille      
I paused on walking across the grass, stunned at the tranquility of the sight before me; each stall of utter crap transformed momentarily in the morning sun to a lost scene of pastoral beauty as happy peasants traded their goods for a few rustic coins, and the purchasers wandered contentedly back to their donkeys (large 4x4s).


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