Garage Sale # 2

Sunday, dimanche .... another beautiful day in paradise. Once again my beautiful hosts extended their kindness to me. We visited another mountain-top home, belonging to Hervé and Marthe. It usual for people to escape to week-end retreats.

 Marthe and I set off to meet Hervé, whom had already stayed the night at their gorgeous mountain hideaway. He rang Marthe to inform her of a garage sale in the local town. Somehow, they both had picked up on the vibe that I get a kick out of garage sales. "How could that be?"

These countryside village garage sales are called: " vide-grenier". This literally translates as empty barn/granary. It is fascinating to view the contents of people's belongings; giving a revealing indication of lifestyle, preferences and family life in southern France.

I must have had a TOURIST beacon pulsating on my head. When I wanted to purchase a real, used horseshoe, for GOOD LUCK, of course, the 2 Euro price-tag was met with a vehement waggling of the finger to the vendor from Marthe. She told me that she has tossed out countless used horse shoes. They are worth next -to -nothing.

I picked up a few interesting bits and bobs, but I could sense that Marthe was keen to get moving. One of more interesting purchases was an old, wooden walking frame. It had decades of usage imbued into it's soft but durable wood. I joked with the vendor that it was not because I am old that i wanted it; it was for helping me navigate my mountain walks.

The local village was excruciatingly picturesque.

I had an experience that I will never forget.

We passed a stall where a very old gentleman was seated. I admired and clucked over an old wind-up gramophone. You know, just like the iconic picture of a dog sitting in front of the conically-shaped speaker. It vibrated a rich texture of ancient dignity. Then, I realised that this stall had many gramophones with similar qualities of ancient dignity. I was silenced as my eyes feasted on a magnificent sight to behold. The kind man sensed my reverence. He asked if I wanted to video and record a gramophone in action. "Er..... yes, please!"

He rigorously spent at least a minute winding up the handle in order for the beautiful beast to perform. It was then that I had a vigorous flashback of the gramophone stored in Dad's garage when I was very young. It's magical virtues were transported back to me through a distant unused memory file. When the music began to play my senses were on overload!!! The scratchy, echo -sound of the traditional music envelopped me in a cocoon of childhood memories. As I videoed the event, my eyes were overflowing with genuine and pure esctasy. Bugger in the rich culture of the past, but experienced and relived in the present. Oh la la.

Because it is in video format, I am about to try and embed it into the blog. If it doesn't work, then i will have to wait to share it with you, when i have an english speaking technical advisor to help me out.

Bummer. No luck.

Tant pis! (You get the drift of what I said.)