Food..Food and more Food

French markets in small villages are a true experience. Uta and Alain took us there and told us that this is the way they see the families from the mountains that come down once a week. Everyone was saying hello to Uta and Alain with two kisses, one on each cheek. The children and the puppies were all playing off to the side and everyone walked around the market with baskets buying anything and everything.

Markets are not all about food, we bought a pocket knife and Uta bought some new clothes for Theo. Markets sell everything, even pets.

One of my favorite memories will be at the market. Joe went off to buy dried sausage and the fellow was speaking french to joe pointing to the different meats and making him try each piece. There was an old lady picking out some produce and a crowd around a stand that was selling every spice you can think of. I could smell the paprika from where I was standing. To the right of me, were two people buying cheese from the Frommage (cheese) stand. They had about 60 different types of cheese. Finally, right beside me was a butcher selling his meat and right underneath the meat slicer was the fattest golden retriever you ever did see hoping that some meat would fall from the slicer and into his mouth.

We did remarkably well maneuvering around the market. Joe finally got a sausage, and we went on to continue to fill our packs with more picnic supplies for the train ride.

The result: