Síle and I had to drop her sister and Brother-in-law off in Carcassonne last week and, as we didn’t have any PG’s that night, we decided to head west in the car towards Mirepoix and a bit of exploring.
Somewhere half way between the two towns my eyes lit up, there was a large Brocante shop by the side of the road, we set off in and discovered a treasure trove.
It was run by a young(ish) couple who, unusually for France, were not only interested in us but were prepared to ask questions- well he was-.
The first room had several really handsome Armoires huge beautifully made heavy wardrobes in oak and walnut. I explained to Monsieur that I had already furnished my Chambre d’Hote with Armoires but was curious about the price, it turned that they were all priced between €600 and €300- and that was asking price- basically cheaper than the equivalent from Ikea. M. explained that they were too large for modern villas.
By this stage we had become bosom buddies and I started to explain to him my passion for glass so he brought me triumphantly into the next room which was floor to ceiling with shelves of polished gleaming glass. Then he proudly showed me his most recent finds, a large glass cup and saucer with characteristic bubbles in the glass. “Ah! Biot “says I. Monsieur’s eyes widened a little and he made that marvellous movement with his mouth rather like a fish on dry land which produces a slight pop pop sound and indicates that a Frenchman is impressed. (I can’t reproduce this, even in front of a mirror in the privacy of my bathroom, yet)
This of course made us even closer buddies. (At this stage, I gathered later that Síle and his wife were exchanging glances behind our backs and raising their eyes to heaven- they both knew their men.)
So then I started to gather stuff together, two elegant café glasses from the fin de siècle, a little measured Absinthe carafe, an empty and battered frame, a rather nice cartoon of Jeanne d’Arc being victorious in a battle and (with just €30 left of my mad money) presented these to Monsieur, wondering which I would have to discard.
Monsieur was magnanimous to his new found friend; he charged me €15 for the lot (the carafe alone was well worth that)
Behind our back his wife again raised her eyes to heaven.
Then I gave him our card (in fact I gave him several) and he was again impressed by where we came from. “Ah! Herault-Pop Pop Pop- and then proceeded to give us a little homily on the wines grown there. Unfortunately this is exactly the little homily I give to guests foolish enough to ask about local wines at our table so I began to feel certain impatience.
Eventually we were able to tear ourselves away, me from my new brother, Síle from her new sister-in-exasperation.
It is an endlessly exciting business this brocanting.