How to make friends at the Saturday Market...

Saturday dawned fair. It was the perfect day for going to the market . Lodève is a sleepy town, but on Saturdays it wakes up, as the market holders set up their stalls. In summer this extends over a good many streets, and extra stalls appear, mainly to attract tourists. There is also an excellent plant stall, where we go to buy young lettuce, spinach plants and the like to plant in our potager(veg garden) But in winter, which is when we usually prefer to go , the market retracts, and sells mainly fruit and veg. ,bread, charcuterie and fish. Throughout the year oysters and mussels from Bouzigues are also on sale. This is where people go, hoping to bump into friends too. It is a very important part of French life. But today it felt a little sad, as many of our old friends have moved on.

We had actually come with a specific task in mind. I needed some garlic for the kitchen, and the market is the only place we know where we can buy a special garlic known as Rose du Tarn. This has a lovely mauve tinge, and the flesh is firm and white. Unlike supermarket bought garlic, it stays in good condition for a number of months, although we were advised to wrap it in newspaper and store it in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator. We found 500g and 1kg tresses of this exactly where we expected to, on the olive vendors stall, amidst huge bowls displaying olives of every type and flavour: chili; garlic; stuffed with anchovies or pimento; green or black, and even more. They also sell nuts, and dried fruits such as figs and dates.

While we were there, I also decided to stock up with fruit . It seemed a little expensive here , much to my surprise, but it was worth it to find my favourite variety of pears, the delicious 'Louise Bonne.' I bought a kilo of these. I also needed a pineapple. They did look nice, if different from my usual variety from the Côte d'Ivoire. These were from Togo, both longer and slimmer, with tall sprouting leaves. But they were also three times the price I would normally pay. I decided to give one a try, and I have not been disappointed. It was sweet and firm.

But the best thing about this pineapple, I would discover as we walked back over the river to where we had parked our car . On the way we passed a young saxophone player, whose cool playing seemed to carry throughout the market. Our basket was heavily laden by now , so B. offered to carry it, while I carried our large pineapple, rather like a severed head, grasped by the hair. And as I did so , people stopped to admire it, and we exchanged a few friendly words. "Hey, this is great ," I said, after our third friendly interaction. After all, we don't talk to too many people up in the forest.

"Buy a pineapple and make friends." I suggested.

"It's even better than a dog ," said B.