brocante

 The light in the cave in the early morning is spectacular, the sunbeams shine straight into the cave mouth through the many paned windows and the glass door blocking it from the outside world. Get up, it is late. Leave the shower for some other day, then brush the teeth and go next door.

The weather is getting cooler, and the coffee pot is waiting. Talk to the owner of the caves, sitting on her couch bed, we will go to a brocante market, a vide grenier market some twenty miles away, to look at the things people have cleared out of their attics and are offering for small money.

It is a long and beautiful drive to the market. The route leads over side roads through the flat landscape of this portion of northern France, finally passing through the regal forests near Blois.

The market is a success, only the queue at the food stall is trying. It is a static line of people, and those behind the counter are just flapping their arms and raising their eyebrows. Something has broken down, it is necessary to wait nearly three quarters of an hour untill some piece of cooking machinery functions as desired. A local dish of tripe in rolls is served, the taste takes some getting used to. As a side dish les pommes frites. 

Bien

The journey home is much faster, despite the many roundabouts on French roads.