It’s Brocante Day here in The LPV which basically means that all hell is about to break loose. While us locals tend to go into hiding (or flee for our lives), our streets will be overrun by the 75s (Parisians) the 78s (almost Parisians), Belgians, Swiss and the Dutch, all scouring the stalls for flea market finds (it’s like a turf war).
This year, we’ll be having lunch at Papa’s house, Gregory is cooking (Lord have mercy). But normally when it’s Brocante Day we like to get out of town.
And with that, I bring you this trip down memory lane: (originally posted Aug. 4, 2010)
{no parking}
Sunday was the annual flea market in Le Petit Village. Stalls lined the streets and at 7am, on my walk with Fifty, I saw the first arrival of the Brocante lovers.
(A 7am Sunday arrival into Le Petit Village is hardcore, it’s not like Le Petit Village is ‘in the neighborhood’. We’re kind of hidden on top of a mountain, tucked out of the way of everything else, and not the least bit convenient. These people really must love their Brocante.)
{lots and lots of cars}
{lots and lots of people}
By 10am, the village was packed. We knew that the only way to preserve our sanity was to get out of there. And wouldn’t you know it, there was a perfect place for Brother-in-Law, Honey Jr, The Husband and me to go…
The Pastis party in Ongles. What’s that you say? Pastis party?! It’s crazy talk, I know.
The Husband’s hetero-life-partner, Gatz, practically lives at the bar that was hosting the party, so he was pretty insistent that we go. Not like we needed much arm twisting.
We arrived a little after noon. Gatz had been there for two hours marking his territory…
{reserved for Gatz}
The boy does love his Pastis. Look, I think he’s actually trying to hug it…
{I heart Pastis}
Being more of the sensible, mature types, Brother-in-Law, Honey Jr, The Husband, and me abandoned the crazy Pastis induced shenanigans inside the bar and headed to a table outside to sample the other Provencal delicacy on offer; aioli.
This is a traditional, local dish of cod, green beans, cauliflower, carrots, and boiled eggs, topped off with aioli. I love aioli but if you eat it, don’t plan on any kissing or close contact with other human beings for a few days.
And while we were enjoying our food (and warding off vampires with our breath) the crazy Pastis party people decided to form a conga line for our viewing pleasure…
{feeling hot hot hot}
When they were finished with the conga, they began to throw water on each other. Because that’s what you do after you’ve been drinking Pastis all morning.
Brother-in-Law and Honey Jr were not amused…
But you know what is amusing?
{Honey Jr and I like to dress alike}
cotton candy.
bisou
It's Me, Sara Louise 
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