Day 3, Sunday, was designated a slow, recuperation day. In reality this was our first full day in France that didn’t involve several hours behind the wheel. The crazy french lady had told us where to find the boulangerie, the boucherie and the local supermarket. She had also told us that there was to be a brocante, flea market, in the nearby town of Magnac-Bourg and that she herself would be there. So, after a leisurely breakfast we headed off to Magnac-Bourg in search of the brocante.
However, there was no sign, in fact Magnac-Bourg appeared to be closed apart, that is, for the Hotel des Voyageurs where we partook of a refreshing beer. We asked the hotelier, about the brocante. He, looking suitably mystified, disappeared inside and after consulting with his wife, reappeared to inform us us that there was indeed a brocante. But that it was at Le Chalard, a mere 34k away.
Beers downed, we took ourselves off on a tour of the local countryside which took us past many apple orchards, a lake and Coussac-Bonneval which was duly noted for a future visit. We duly arrived at Le Chalard
and had no trouble finding the brocante as it was spread all over the streets.
They do say that one mans trash is another mans treasure and I was amazed at the sort of stuff that was on sale. As a one time collector of vinyl I was quite interested in the numerous “vintage” records on sale as well as the various traditional wooden handled tools.
We ourselves had a couple of items in mind as we strolled the stalls. The gite was in need of a decent bread knife and also some decent size cups so that we could have a proper cup of tea. We picked up four coffee mugs at a euro each but there was no sign of a bread knife. At one stall, we were offered a wooden block of kitchen knives by a Brit who is now resident in the village. Unfortunately, despite a strong sales pitch, he failed to seal the deal.
This was due to the fact that the bread knife was missing !!!
After an interesting hour or so spent rummaging we decided to head back to the gite where we broke out the beer and, eventually, the wine. The wine took a bit longer to break free as we couldn’t find a bottle opener. All four of us turned the kitchen upside down as we played hunt the bottle opener, searching in total disbelief that a french kitchen would not have one. Eventually we found two, hidden at the back of the cutlery drawer, and we were, at last, able to settle down and imbibe.
Sat outside, under the trees, watching the shadows grow across the fields as the sun set. The temperature in that evening sun was 30 degC.