A Market Day
August 14, 2009
France, because she never suffered bombing raids in the WWII, all her villages, towns and cities were kept intact and retained their characters and charms.
Entering France from Freiburg on the first leg of our summer holiday, we made the wrong turn along Highway A36 and ended up in the middle of nowhere until the little town of Luohans came into view.
It was Monday morning market day and the place was jumping with people and excitement, we could imagine that is what a traditional market town was like before the shopping centres killed them all over the place in the world.
But this little town kept its tradition; the centre of the town is a market street about half a kilometre long and on both sides were market stalls selling all sorts of wares and around the local church square were the fruit and vegetable stands and one can also buy food and local produce there.
Mary bought a white dress, Gyda bought her favourite olives and goat’s cheese and I got my Panama hat for the summer at last. We then went to the bakery shop and bought our stick of fresh and crunch bread and we ate our lunch in the sun. The local Bar only sell drinks but they let you eat your own lunch there. So a glass of wine, a stick of bread, some olives and cheese, they made a delicious lunch on a market day.