It was overcast this morning as we headed out to Cazals, a village less than half an hour away, to visit the weekly market. The market is one of our favourites, held in the large square at the centre of the village, and it typically has a wide range of stalls — much broader than Daglan’s small market. Aside from the obvious — fruit, vegetables, meat, eggs, sausages — there are flowers, skirts, shoes, slippers, escargots, art, cookware, honey, books and greeting cards.
Actually it was the greeting cards that attracted us to Cazals — we were picking up the last of our order of Christmas cards from Kim, an Englishwoman who sells greeting cards as well as cosmetics. Once we’d made our pick-up, my wife went on to buy a chunk of smoked ham and a large butternut squash for soup, and then we visited a couple of shops around the square.
By 12:15, we were ready for lunch, so we headed to Auberge de la Place, and had a thoroughly pleasant meal, accompanied by a 50-cl bottle of Pomerol that I thought was excellent.
And then it was back to Daglan, along a lovely back-country route that we’ve travelled many times, on our bikes as well as by car, past Campagnac-lès-Quercy. Just before we reached Campagnac, we saw this completely ruined house, with only the pigeonnier standing.
Then we pressed on, because we were determined to finish hanging our framed art, which had arrived from Toronto with the remainder of our goods — including enough clothes to last for the next 14 years — back on November 5. And I’m happy to report that the job is done. A loyal reader, one Doc Jan, may be pleased to know that on the way up the stairs to our new room, where I write this blog, we’ve placed her framed photo of a door in San Gimignano, Italy — taken in September 1997, on the trip that led to the birth of the Wild Forest Pig Contrada. But hey — that’s a whole other story.