Friday is market day in Gaillac and today as the sun wash shining and the air was warm it was much busier than normal, in fact trying to get a parking space today was interesting to say the least, there arnt that many places to park and all the ones i knew about were full, hmmm where to go, argh i remember there is a parking area at the base of the abby by the river. Off i sped in Kev’s car and today was the day for Kev’s car, roof down music playing and thank god i had it as the roads down to the river bank car park were so narrow, with lots of twist and turns and old french people walking; very slowly in the middle of the raod as they do, you can’t beep them its rude… isn’t it???
So eventually after feeling like i had been on a fair ground ride i found the car park and a space, yes, oh and what a view, it was worth all the twists and turns and the old French people, NCP’s don’t have views like this in Londinium.

Gaillac is so beautiful i do love it and don’t come in enough, today will make up for that.
The market sprawls through the town, let me take you on a little tour.

Lets start in the main square [the old one] which has a central sunken fountain and very pretty it is too. From here the market stalls radiate out, this part of the market is mainly fruit, veg and food and very yummy it all looks.

Now theres a shell suit top to be proud of and you thought shell suits were out of fashion, nah not in France they arnt.
And the kind man is helping with her melons…..

Im not really a tomato person [even though i have 12 varieties growing in my potager at home] but wow these look so tasty.

Same goes for asparagus [i don’t like what it does to your wee] but again it looks so lovely… didn’t buy any mind you.

Arghh here is one of my favourite houses in the old square, i would love to know what lies behind that keyhole.

No market is complete without a huge pan of food, ill have one, the whole one please

I bought a little succulent plant from this stall, its sitting on the table i made near my potager, the girl [her in the background with the Sofie Ellis Bexter fringe] who served me was so polite with a big grin on her face, was probably the awful French i spoke.

There is a covered market area which is reserved for artisans, mainly ones who grow organic and bio foods and plants.
The strawberries were stunning, i tried one or two, so sweet and juicy, like real strawberries not the watery ones you get in the supermarket.

Here you go they take great pride in their stalls, forever titivating their boxes.

A lovely eclectic mix of products all looking fabulous.

Off up to the main town square[ the new one] its had a face lift and it looks very smart, this area of the market has all your basics and essentials, kickers, bras, trusses etc

And then lets pop over the road to the main car park which is not a car park today, mores the pity.
This is my favourite part of the market i call it “Toot ville” why? well you can see for yourself lots of toot, i mean why buy a real plant when you can have on doff these stunning fake ones!!!!!

This stall is amazing, its an extendable lorry full of home bits and bobs, i mean you could spend a day on “The Generation Game” conveyor belt and still not guess everything.

Arggh yes and plastic tubs in every shade of unnatural.

I do love a bit of haberdashery though, but what: no grey linen, in sixty shades of, don’t they know the brits love it.

This last aisle is very special as its reserved for the real artisan traders

Now these men are the real deal, i love these people they look so amazing, i would love to be able to chat to them about their lives, i bet there are so many interesting stories to be told.

This man looks especially interesting, he only has one product for sale some kind of bacon roll thingy, and i bet that linen cloth has never been washed, it probably adds to the taste, hmm think not.
So there you have it market day in Gaillac, well one of them anyway and what did i buy i hear you ask, six celery plants and they are doing fine, all tucked up in my potager and well fed and watered.
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