The Plague Descends Upon Vide Grenier

You expect vide greniers to be packed with treasures, trinkets and trivia. All the villagers (and interlopers from neighboring villages) purge their houses of odds and ends, in the hope of attracting Sunday suckers like us. The one held in Fanjeaux on Sunday was beyond all expectations. A delightful first stop was "the secret room", tables crammed with mixtures of everything from tins of constipation tablets to that missing lid from grandmother's tea pot.

It was hard to break away from buying all the things I will never need or use. But the rhythmic beat of medieval musical instruments lured me outside the little room. A traveling troupe of I'm not quite sure whom or what cleared passage through the narrow streets of Fanjeaux.

Their clothes were ragged, their faces painted near ghoulish, as if the Plague was making a comeback. They did not speak or sing, but stared blankly and demonically as they processed. With the backdrop of the centuries-old buildings, I could have been time traveling.

A charming entertainment addition to a great people-watching event, only to be topped by a superb lunch at La Table Cathar (a shared cassoulet and chevre chaud). I suppose we should have invited these poor starving waifs to have joined us.