The market action spreads out

Believing that yesterday’s vide grenier — that’s garage sale in North America, and car boot sale in the U.K. — would begin at 9 a.m., we decided to set our alarm and get up at 7 a.m. We figured that we’d have plenty of time for breakfast and showers, before having to set up our table for the event.

Ha! Were we ever wrong about that.

My wife Jan was awake before the alarm, and so at about 6:45 she got out of bed and looked out the kitchen window. “Yikes!” she hollered (or words to that effect), “Someone’s already set up their stuff right across the street from our house.”

So that was our introduction to the world of vide grenier dealers — professionals or semi-professionals who make it their business to buy old household goods, books, toys, artwork, clothing, signs and much else, and then try to sell it on to others at these special markets.

For instance, all the stuff across from us had been set up by an experienced Dutch woman, who turned out to be quite friendly, and willing to share some of her knowledge of selling second-hand goods. A French man, driving quite a huge van, had unloaded his wares right at the end of our quartier — the Place de la Fontaine — and had surrounded the natural spring with all kinds of goods. By 7 a.m., he was already set up and was pacing up and down the streets.

Apparently this is quite normal. What was different is that the organizers had, quite cleverly, decided to spread out the vide grenier tables throughout the village, rather than concentrating them in a place like the parking lot of the salle des fêtes, or community hall. The goal was to encourage tourists and other shoppers to walk through Daglan and explore. And you know what? It worked.

Admittedly, things got a bit tight, because of Daglan’s narrow streets. For instance, here’s a car making its way carefully along the street immediately in front of our steps, negotiating between our house and the Dutch woman’s goods:

Squeezing through the street, between our house and a seller’s goods.

What worked especially well, I thought, was that the various vide grenier tables flowed out in lines from the village’s central square, where Daglan’s weekly Sunday market was taking place. This meant that tourists and local shoppers could visit the bakery and the convenience store, buy vegetables and other goods in the central market, and then explore the vide grenier tables for bargains. Here’s a view looking up our street towards the main square, where tables were already well set up before 8 a.m.:

Tables are being stocked with goods, on the road up to the main square.

Here’s a closer look at some of the stalls, at the point where our street meets the main square:

A variety of tables are set up near the main square.

Naturally there was a lot of junk, but also some interesting bargains. For instance, here’s a fairly nice table-and-chair set, with two of those old fashioned insect sprayers sitting atop the table:

A lovely table — complete with old insect sprayers.

Extending further out from Daglan’s main square, there were tables set up in front of the main entrance to the church, like these:

Tables set up in front of Daglan’s church.

And there were tables beside the church, like this arrangement of stands that had attracted two eager, early-morning shoppers:

Two shoppers examine the goods on tables behind the church.

As for our immediate area, we finally did get set up before 9 a.m., although we had to forget about taking showers and get dressed quickly. We were even ready when a friend of ours dropped off her daughter, who’s not quite three years old; we had agreed to baby sit for the morning.

I can’t say that business was exactly brisk, but we did manage to sell a number of items, including a portable radio, two lamps, several empty photo albums, two prints, and a few of Jan’s retired dresses. Sitting in the sun gave me a chance to work on my tan, and we did enjoy talking with people — mostly in French, but also in English — including some Daglan residents we don’t normally see.

The excitement picked up a bit in the late morning when some loud music came blasting down our street. It turned out that the music was coming from inside the cart of this rather large clown:

Music was blaring from the clown’s cart.

Aside from goofing around and making noise, the clown also had a collection of balloons that he would twist into various shapes on demand. Here he is, interacting with the little crowd in front of our house:

Keeping the shoppers entertained.

Eventually Jan gave in, and paid the clown to make a flower out of balloons for the jeune fille we were babysitting.

By about 1:30 in the afternoon, we had had enough, and were ready to close up shop for lunch. (For dessert, Jan had bought fresh strawberries in the market.) Of course we could have tried again in the afternoon, but decided it would be more restful, not to mention cooler, to stay indoors. Besides, we had made more than 70 euros!

Notes from our village — 15/06/2013

Today’s posting is simply a collection of short observations on life in the heart of the GDA, or Greater Daglan Area.

The world in the GDA. One of the most enjoyable aspects of our move to France from Canada has been the chance to meet so many people and make so many friends from all over the world. Last night, for instance, we enjoyed a beautiful outdoor dinner on the hilltop patio of friends who have a lovely home just half an hour south of us; but in fact, they divide their time between France and the Middle East, where their business is centred, and they’ve lived all over the world. With us last night were four more friends of theirs. One couple has lived in France for more than 40 years, and now spends six months of the year in this country, and six months in the south of Spain. The other couple are from New Zealand, and have been travelling around Europe for the past two months — driving through France, Switzerland, Italy, Gibraltar, Spain, Portugal and Andorra. No shortage of wine with dinner, and no shortage of topics to discuss.

Garbage wars. The authorities here are pretty serious about recycling, but it’s a bit of an uphill struggle. I’m not sure what’s so difficult, but many people — residents? vacationers? — can’t seem to figure out which materials go in which bins at the déchètterie, or garbage dump, no matter how clearly the bins are marked. I’ve seen large cardboard boxes (obviously meant for recycling) stuffed into the bins reserved for garbage, and old wooden chairs dumped into the recycling bins. The solution seems to be continual education. So yesterday there was a truck from SICTOM, the agency that handles our area’s garbage and recycling, stationed in the parking lot of Daglan’s salle des fêtes, or village hall. (It’s not easy finding out what SICTOM actually stands for, but I did eventually nail it. It’s the very catchy Syndicat Intercommunal de Collecte et de Traitement des Ordures Ménàgeres. So there!) In the truck was an attractive young woman handing out free rolls of yellow plastic bags (for items destined for recycling) and black bags (for ordinary garbage). She also provided each of us with a brochure that attempts, once again, to explain where glass bottles, newspapers and magazines, recyclable packaging, and ordinary garbage should be put. The cover line says “Trier, c’est pas sorcier!“, which the brochure translates as “You do not have to be a wizard to separate your rubbish!” A catchier version might be: “Sorting garbage? It’s not rocket science!” But in fact, for many people, it seems to be.

In any case, the stack of bags I received (four hefty rolls of each type) should last us quite a while. Here’s a look at the bags, plus the brochure:

Yellow for recycling, black bags for garbage.

The travelling vide grenier. In North America, it’s the garage sale; in Britain, it’s the car boot sale. But in France, the open-air sale of unwanted household goods is called the vide grenier, which suggests emptying the attic. In any case, a vide grenier is seen as a real event in rural communities, and Daglan is having one tomorrow — but with a difference. To be eligible to put up a table, each participant has to pay an entry fee, which will be used as a donation to benefit school children here. The big twist is that rather than having the vide grenier tables clustered in one spot, they will be spread throughout Daglan, in front of various homes. The idea is to encourage visitors to wander through our village, admire the houses, and meet people. Good idea, we thought, so my wife Jan and I are planning to put up a table. Y’all come!

Sure signs of summer

My wife and I like to keep cut flowers in the house, sometimes on our dining table, sometimes on the mantel, and sometimes on both. It’s not always possible, because the selection in local markets ranges from magnificent to mangy, depending on the season.

We had a good run of tulips earlier in the year, but they are no longer available. And yesterday we tossed out a bunch of carnations that had been on the dining table more than a week, and were looking pretty sad.

But today, at the Carrefour supermarket in Gourdon, I found some of our favourites — sunflowers. These seem like a sure sign of summer, and that fits with the weather forecast that’s calling for 30 degrees Celsius (that’s 86 degrees American) on Sunday.

And here they are, in close-up, on our table:

Sunflowers add some life to the dining table.

We’re big enough fans of sunflowers that, several years ago when we lived in Toronto, we commissioned a painting of the Tuscan town of San Gimignano and asked the artist to make sure there were lots of these flowers (tournesols in French, girasoli in Italian) in the foreground.

She complied, and our large painting of the Tuscan town now hangs on a wall in our Daglan home. So with the vase of sunflowers in the foreground, this is the current view from our dining table, looking towards the field of flowers in our painting:

Cut flowers, with painted flowers in the background.

Now let’s hope that we’ll start seeing sunflowers in the fields around the Greater Daglan Area soon — and also that the bright, sunny and warm weather sticks with us.

To Belvès by stages: Bike Route No. 1

Recently we were chatting with an English couple who have just bought a house in Daglan, and who are starting to explore the Greater Daglan Area (GDA) by going on walks and taking bike rides. When they said they were interested in bike routes with “a destination,” I had a brainwave: In Radio Free Daglan, I’ll describe and show off a variety of bike routes that my wife and I enjoy. But before I reveal details of the first route in this occasional series, let me deal with a few questions that I’m sure are already troubling you:

What’s with biking in the GDA? The simple answer is that the GDA (parts of which go under the name of Périgord Noir) is a wonderful place for biking, whether you’re an occasional recreational rider or a serious cyclist. Roads are good, scenery is lovely, traffic is relatively light, and there’s a great variety of routes; you can choose from flat trips to rolling hills to steep climbs. Renting bikes is easy (the Bike Bus will deliver them to your door) and you can plan your ride so that you wind up somewhere nice for a coffee, a drink, or a lunch. (Caution: Exposure to the GDA can be a life-changing experience. Our bike trip to the Dordogne and Lot départements in 1998 is the reason that my wife Jan and I wound up moving to Daglan.)

I don’t bike, so why should I care? Don’t worry, because my pieces on cycling won’t be too technical and certainly won’t include boring maps. There will be lots of photos and descriptions of countryside and villages and restaurants, so you can follow along even if you despise biking and plan to drive everywhere once you’re in the GDA.

What if I’m not visiting the GDA right away? How can I use the information? It’s easy. There is a “Search” box in the upper right of each Radio Free Daglan posting, and the function works beautifully. So if you’re planning a visit here in 2014 or 2015, just enter “Biking” or “Bike Route” in the box, press Enter, and you’ll be directed to all the Bike Route postings I’ll have written by then.

Now let’s get started, by following a ride that Jan and I did yesterday morning — beginning under skies that were a bit grey and threatening, but which cleared up beautifully by 10 a.m. Our destination was Belvès, about 22 kilometres from Daglan, which would be a round trip of 44 kilometres. However, I’ll break down the ride into stages, so that you can decide what distance would suit you.

Leaving Daglan, we headed out to the village to the south and west of us, which is Saint Pompon. It’s just about five kilometres from Daglan, so if you’re looking for an easy 10-kilometre trip (out and back), this would be it. The two-lane road is flat and the traffic is never too heavy. Generally you’ll be travelling past woods and small garden plots, and eventually you’ll come to the village. Here’s how Saint Pompon looks as you arrive:

Your view as you enter Saint Pompon.

There are a few places in Saint Pompon to stop for a drink or a coffee, and if you want an informal lunch you could choose L’Envie des Mets. Before you go, do make a reservation, because the restaurant can be extremely busy, especially in good weather; the phone number is 05-53-31-94-01. Note that it’s closed on Sundays and Mondays.

If you’d like to keep going, as we did, just continue through the village. You’ll find that the road starts a very gentle climb for a couple of kilometres, until you see the turn-off for the hamlet of  Saint Laurent la Vallée. This hamlet is about 10 kilometres from Daglan, so the round-trip will give you a nice 20-kilometre ride, with a long (but quite manageable) climb, and then a wonderfully smooth downhill coast on the way home. You can’t miss the turn-off , because it’s clearly marked, like this:

You can’t miss the sign for the turn to Saint Laurent la Vallée.

Once you’ve made the turn, you’ll find that you’re on a long hill, with scrubby woods on your right and agricultural fields on your left. Eventually you’ll reach Saint Laurent, and that’s where you can stop for a coffee (as we did on Wednesday morning) or a lunch. The place to go is Le P’tit Bistro, which GDA veterans will recognize as the old Lou Cigalou. It’s a place for hearty, multi-course but amazingly inexpensive lunches, so bring your appetite if you’re lunching.

The entrance to the bistro in Saint Laurent la Vallée.

Right across the street from the bistro is an area for seating under the trees, so if the sun is too hot you can relax in the shade before setting off — either back to Daglan, or onwards to Belvès, as we did. Here’s the shady area:

Here’s where you can sit in the shade, outside Le P’tit Bistro.

Our ultimate goal, of course, was to reach Belvés, so we headed west out of Saint Laurent (the signs are easy to follow). There is a slight decline as you leave the hamlet, but it lasts barely a kilometre; then you begin a long climb to the height of land that lies between Saint Laurent and Belvès. In fine French tradition, the climb is made much easier because of gentle curves and lots of switchbacks.  (This is in sharp contrast to our experience in Tuscany, where the road-builder’s motto is “Climb every mountain — straight up.”)

You’ll know when you reach the height of land, because the road begins to flatten out. At this point, Jan and I stopped to admire the views.

On our left, there was this interested group of spectators:

These ladies were on our left, at the height of land between Belvès and Saint Laurent la Vallée.

And to our right, the land fell away into a series of small dips and valleys, dotted with trees and more small herds of cattle. In the distance there are yet more hills. Here is Jan, surveying the scenery:

Jan is checking out the view.

And here’s another view of the landscape that you’ll see from this vantage point:

Here’s another view of the landscape.

So now we’re at the top, and ready for the descent to Belvès. And what a descent it is — first, a rapid series of turns as the road heads down, and then a very long and winding road that dips downwards so consistently (but gently) that you probably can coast for several kilometres. Here’s a look at just one section of the road as you head down:

The road continues down and down, and on and on.

Once the road flattens out, you’ll know that you’re near the base of the hill on which Belvès is perched. At the miniscule hamlet of Vaurez, you’ll find this collection of iron statues, which always intrigue me:

An odd collection of iron statues.

Up ahead, and up above, is Belvès itself. Jan and I have made the climb up the Belvès hill many times, and it’s worth the effort, because the village is historic, picturesque and interesting — and a good destination for lunch. (Our standby restaurant is Le Home; nothing too fancy, but generally quite good. However, there are several other restaurants and cafés to try.)

Yesterday morning, however, we were facing a deadline, because we needed to be back in Daglan by the time the weekly fish truck arrived. So we turned around in Vaurez, and had to be content with this view of Belvès:

Looking like a town in Tuscany, Belvès is perched on a hill.

On the way back to Daglan, I stopped several times for photo opps. Here’s a view of the road heading back to Saint Laurent la Vallée, with farmers’ fields on the right (in this case, newly planted with corn):

A typical view of farmers’ fields beside the road.

The scenery along the way is not just farmland and herds of cows; there is also a lot of forest hugging the road. Here’s one view:

You’ll pass through woods like these along the way.

And then as I began the long descent to Saint Laurent, I came across this cherry tree growing right beside the road:

This cherry tree beside the road was full of ripe fruit.

The tree was full of ripe fruit, and several of the cherries were actually calling out my name. (No, seriously, they were.) So naturally I had to try several, and they were delicious. These particular cuties were some of my favourites;

The cherries looked perfect for picking — so I did.

With my energy levels restored, I continued on to Saint Laurent, and was stopped by the sudden need to photograph this lovely flower garden, right beside the road:

A lovely flower garden in Saint Laurent la Vallée.

Another great sight, at the front left of the flower garden, was this patch of raspberries. Because it was very close to a house, I thought that I should refrain from stuffing my face with the berries, and so I moved on. But they really looked tempting:

The raspberries were ripe — but too close to the house.

And now we’re near the end of our ride. We’ve passed through Saint Laurent, and we’re on the long downhill glide that leads to the road that takes us through Saint Pompon and onward to Daglan. Here’s a look at the downhill road that’s just made for coasting:

You can coast most of the way down from Saint Laurent la Vallée.

Aside from the exercise and the nice views, I did benefit from an insight that I’ll have to pursue. It struck me that (a) cherries are ripe and (b) so are raspberries. Knowing that at Daglan’s Le Petit Paris restaurant, Chef is very clever at using seasonal fruit just as it reaches the markets, I figured that Jan and I should begin planning our next visit to the restaurant for lunch.

But that was for another day. When we got home, Jan made a delicious lunch of sautéed fresh cod (from the fish truck), served with sorrel sauce, saffron rice, and broccoli. It was worth the ride to Belvès.

Our (too) quiet Sunday market

By this point in the year, it seems to us, the Greater Daglan Area should be a bit livelier — with more tourists wandering around, shopping, sightseeing, dining out, and of course clogging the roads. But probably because of Europe’s rainy and cool spring, it seems that fewer visitors are headed to the département of the Dordogne, at least so far.

In fact, English friends of ours who have a holiday home in Daglan recently opted to cancel their vacation here and instead spend the time on a sunnier Spanish island. As it turned out, that was a wise decision; during the week they had planned to be here, it rained almost every day.

This morning dawned a bit grey and cloudy, although at least it wasn’t raining. So my wife Jan and I walked up our street to the market that takes place each Sunday in the village’s main square. While the number of stalls has certainly increased since the low point of this winter, the market itself still isn’t buzzing. Have a look:

A few shoppers at Daglan’s Sunday market.

These days, the stalwarts are all in place — vendors of local wine, local goat cheese, roasted chickens, walnuts, honey and of course vegetables. Here’s a look at a row of the vegetables on sale:

A long row of fruits and vegetables.

One of our specific goals for this morning was to buy two red geraniums for the flower bed in front of our house. As it turned out, there was lots of choice, because the nice young woman who sells flowers and other plants had a good selection. Here’s her collection:

We bought two geranium plants from the flower vendor.

Having bought our plants, it was time to move on. This is the time of year when strawberries are abundant, and the woman who sells them in our market had several varieties on offer. We chose a container of the Mara des bois (the berries you’ll see at the top of the photo below), and thought they were delicious as our dessert after lunch today (with whipped cream, of course). Here’s the vendor making change for a customer:

Several varieties available, and we chose Mara des bois.

The season for green asparagus is just about over, but the young man selling asparagus still had a few bunches of the green stalks, as well as a good selection of white asparagus, which are graded by the diameter of the stalk. (We wound up buying a bunch of each — with the green asparagus slated to be our vegetable for a lunch during the week, and the white variety to be served as dinner tonight.) Here’s a customer picking up her order:

We bought both kinds — green and white.

With our shopping done, we decided that we’d better hurry up and get some exercise while the rain was holding off. So Jan headed off on a walk, and I hopped on my bike for a short ride. And then — what do you know? — it was time for lunch.

Just foaling around — the colt

In yesterday’s posting I introduced you to a pretty young filly and her mom, both residing in a field that’s part of a horse farm on the outskirts of Daglan. Now let’s meet their neighbours and apparent best friends, another mare and her foal, which turned out to be a colt (to be clear, that’s a young male horse).

They were a bit less adventuresome than the mare-and-filly combination, but eventually they walked over to the fence where my wife Jan and I were standing. Here they come:

The second mare walks to us, with her foal following.

Jan managed to really catch the mare’s interest by holding out a handful of grass that she’d plucked up, and the mare was quite happy to munch away on it. Here she is, with her foal tucked in behind her:

The mare is chomping on some grass that Jan offered.

Finally the foal decided to come out into the open, giving us a view that confirmed it was a he, and not a she (the evidence is not easy to see in this photo, but take my word for it):

Here’s the little guy, standing proudly (but not too far from his mother).

And then the little colt decided to get downright frisky, shaking its head and flicking its tail as if to say: “That’s enough, folks, now get back in your car.”

Our colt is looking just a bit cranky at this point.

And that’s exactly what we did. The day was sunny and bright, a welcome relief from our rainy spring, so there were lots of other sights to see and enjoy– and off we went.

Just foaling around — the filly

Heading north from Daglan, as you go towards Saint Cybranet and just before you reach the Stade Municipal (home of Daglan rugby), there’s a horse farm that’s often worth a look. Especially when there are foals in the fields.

For the past several weeks, my wife Jan and I have noticed that the fields held two very young foals, but we didn’t want to get too close for fear of spooking them. But earlier this week, we pulled into the drive that runs beside a long fence, and got out of the car for a closer look.

At first there was no action — the horses seemed decidedly nervous about us and stayed well away. But then one of the mares walked slowly over to us, and we were able to take the photos you’re about to see. There is no particular narrative arc to this posting; I just think the mares are good looking, and the foals are adorable.

Here’s an overview of the field with the two mares and their foals. Both of the foals, by the way, are still nursing, which is why the foal in the foreground is trying to reach underneath her mother:

In the field: Two mares, two foals

Finally we attract the attention of one of the mares, and she leads the way over to see us at the fence. Her foal is tucked in behind her:

Mom in the lead, with the filly trailing behind.

Now they are close, and we can see that the little one is a filly. Meanwhile the other mare and her foal remain away in the distance:

The filly comes up behind her Mom.

Finally, here’s the proud mother and her little filly. Lovely, aren’t they?

A proud mare, and her little one.

Tomorrow we’ll take a look at the other foal, which turned out to be a colt.