Sunday 8 August 2010

French Life The Village Brocante

Yesterday was Champnier's brocante day. Each village has one "boot fair" per year and this is used as a fundraiser for the various village associations.
My brocante started on Saturday when I thought it was too good an opportunity to miss and so armed with A3 laminated ads, extolling the virtues of our new venture, went to strap them to posts and trees around the brocante site.
I had only put one up when I was stopped by two gents ( one the assistant mayor) telling me that this was a no no and that I was taking money from their buvette ( a stand selling drinks and food on the day) In a conversation in two languages, neither really understanding the other, I explained I was looking to grow the business of their village for the next year, not to take their beer sales on the day. A compromise was reached ( I think!!) I was allowed a sign stating Bar Ouvert for cars to see but no posters that could be read on foot.
J. concerned that I had blown the goodwill of the village went to see the gents as soon as I arrived back and the compromise was agreed with no harm done. I can do marketing but I dont think I will ever be a candidate for a CD number plate

Sunday was a hot sunny day (as most are!!) and the field starting filling at 7am with people selling their wares. Moira has already described a brocante so I wont repeat.
The brocante lasts all day with stalls closing down about 5pm. The village was very busy and our cafe had a great day (first wine sold at 10am, first cognac at half past)
The evening highlighted a huge difference in the culture of our two countries. The village had arranged a Moule Frite evening in the school playground. Ten euros a person including an aperitif, cake and coffee. The moules werent great, we all sat on benches drinking beer that was more expensive than we sell and in plastic cups but the place was packed. Old and young, rich and poor were there. Lots of noise, lots of kissing and handshaking, lots of beer and no trouble. No sign of any gendarme or officious prats in yellow jackets. It was just a great night of community.




As the stunning sunset disappeared, the village walk started, a tour of the village (this takes 10 minutes at a slow pace) behind children carrying lanterns and flaming torches.






It was great except for one thing. I hadnt realised where the walk went and as we passed the bar all I could think of was " why hadnt I left the outside lights on?
The walk to us to the petanque pitch where we were treated to a firework display of high quality and then it was back to the bar, more hand shaking before retiring just before midnight.

we look forward to next year's

1 comment:

  1. Hey guys, you have an expectant audience out here wondering what has happened. Did you survive the first week. What do the locals think of your cooking? We need to know these things. Hope all has gone well for you both and the routine of the Cafe is settling into a good business.

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