Small village, big heart. It’s been beating for 4,500 years, welcoming galant knights and devout pilgrims with hospitality that anticipated the ages. The surviving chapels and medieval wash rooms bear witness to their passing, a situation these souls must eternally regret, for they didn’t live long enough to enjoy what would become Le Val’s triumph, the Friday morning market.

Fresh seasonal food is the essence of the business, with a handful of stalls selling fruit & veg, cheese, rotisserie chicken, honey and olives. Clothing on the corner has some fabulous looking leopard skin pants, which are being considered, although there is never hesitation with olives. The vendor greets me with a cheerful ‘kalamata!’ every week, and who can resist this prelude, and accompaniment, to tipple time at the cafe. The carefully coiffured elders of the al fresco cafe are regulars, as we modestly have become for the summer. Nel, tattooed and trim, holds up two fingers when she see us, and luck finds us a table on the crowded square. Tables grow and contort as friends find each other and shuffle for space. That’s the thing, Friday mornings are a permanent date, if you want to catch up with friends, that’s where you’ll find them. 

Provencal markets are a reason to eat (and drink), to get up early and to go without a list. Almost every town has one, but the guide will never do justice to the ambiance and simple pleasure of being there. Two stalls or twenty, the unexpected will reward your efforts. Last Saturday in Brignoles we were surprised once again by the offerings at the boucher of the ever gracious Ismail. Hooves and heads – who would have thought? 

Markets have a soft caramel magnetism I cannot possibly resist. And who would want to? In Le Val on Friday morning I asked a group of friends if Sean & I could take their photos to give a picture of market life to Australia. There was no hesitation, we signed and laughed our way through conversations about the long friendships around the table and visiting Le Verdon (north of Bras…). It was heartwarming to share such camaraderie – a copy of the photos was not necessary but there was a request as we departed – Bonjour à nos amis d’Australie !