For most of the year the little market sells radishes and cheese. Then, from June to August it swells with exotic arrivals. Tunisian bag men, Moroccan leather goods sellers and the gentlemen from Chad with their carved wooden masks. The fact that they return every year must indicate the presence of buyers. Interestingly, the Peruvian pan pipe men have moved on. Their place taken by an exotic lady in a fez and a bright red house coat who reads palms. She charges €5 for a palm reading, €10 for a 'consultation'. Her hand painted sign promises '' All will be revealed " .
Still no sign of the old farmer. 15 days since he set off for Belarus. We'll wait until mid-week before worrying. His Christmas star still comes on at ten and goes off at two.
Bob and Sophie chase lizards, go fishing in the stream, doze in the cherry orchard and bark at pilgrims ( a lot of them today including three identically dressed American ladies in knee length grey shorts, seersucker shirts, and walking poles who infuriate Sophie by stopping to say hello)
* A Rudyard Kipling poem about France quoted by the Queen, in French, at a dinner in Paris during her state visit.