Vide Grenier

Pasted on walls and noticeboards around small towns in rural France are leaflets saying brocante and/or vide grenier with the name of the town and the date. Brocante is a flea market, with professional stall holders. Vide Grenier literally means "empty attic", and is the equivalent of the Aussie garage sale, except that you bring your stuff to a common place - the local soccer ground usually, where both the pros and the amateurs range their stalls. On our first Sunday we are given directions by Veronica on where to go and how to find the markets, and manage to find our way to three, in Pocé-sur-Cisse, Bléré, and St-Martin-le-Beau. Although it is cold, muddy and soggy underfoot after early morning rain, we have a great time poking around in other people's bric-a-brac. During a brief shower we join the rest of the locals at the stall run by whatever the French equivalent of the CWA is, where they sell freshly fried frites and very tasty and equally fresh ham rolls. We enjoy watching a woman dressed in a clown outfit playing a barrel organ, where the tunes are controlled by Jacquard-style punched cardboard which unfolds concertina-like to go through the organ. Even though we are consciously travelling light, we still find opportunities for a bit of retail therapy: two eggcups for the gite to hold the large eggs laid by Veronica's hens, a non-stick lifter, also for the gite, a couple of melamine plates for our picnics, and a very french top for me with a Paris label. In Melbourne I looked in vain for a top I could wear on warm evenings which met my friend Anne's criteria for light travel: "all tops go with all bottoms". The vide grenier top is a bit glamorous and exactly what I had in mind. As with most things at the amateur stalls, it is very cheap - a steal at 2 euro. Vive le vide grenier!