Fringe Fun

What better pick-me-up when you've just returned to the Grey Isles after a month in the sunny south of Europe than a spot of festival fun?

The Edinburgh Fringe is officially the world's biggest annual arts and culture festival. We caught the last few days of this summer's Fringe last weekend, and the crowds and the energy were showing no signs of abating.

Edinburgh's population reportedly doubles during the three weeks of the festival, the atmosphere is festive and colour seems to burst from every stone grey facade ... 

Performers line the Royal Mile and surrounding streets, advertising their shows and entertaining the crowds ...

The Fringe is held alongside a jamboree of related festivals (book, music, art, film ...). It began after the end of World War II, as an alternative forum (to the more formal, prestigious Edinburgh International Festival) for less well-known, more off-beat or experimental artists, and has grown into the huge event it is today. 

Better-known performers and works sell out fast, but the fun of the Fringe is in the opportunity to see fresh talent and new ideas in thousands of shows ranging from stand-up comedy to classic revivals, from musicals to puppetry to the avant garde, many hundreds of shows performed for free and in every conceivable space (pubs, shopping malls, tents, attic rooms ...)

... though just walking through the streets is entertainment enough ...

Fancy a spot of public humiliation? This dour-looking gent raising one eyebrow archly at me will gladly place your head in stocks ... 

If that doesn't appeal, Scottish mohican lady with the shapely turn of leg can induct you in the ancient art of spinning ...

Round about the town a bowl of porridge,a kilt or a custom-made set of bagpipes can all be yours ...

Edinburgh was still popping with bright summer colours and flowers ...

but at the same time transitioning to post-festival muted autumn shades ...

... my lassies, lightly negotiating the crowded pavements with joined pinkie fingers

Across town, in elegant Charlotte Square, the Book Festival was a peaceful haven compared with the frenetic artistic energy of the Royal Mile. I joined the massively long queues that were snaking round the square for some of these events, but we were all moved quickly and seamlessly along and I wished I'd been able to get to more ...

When one was gasping for a break from all the intellectual rigour, there were cosy cafés in which to do lunch ...

Peter's Yard, Quartermile, 27 Simpson Loan, Edinburgh EH3 9GG


... and drinks in the Balmoral's plush Bollinger Bar ...

Later on, peering out into the rain for passing taxis at the Balmoral's entrance, after retrospectively perhaps a few chardonnays too many, I found myself riveted by the footwear of the man standing next to me ...

I thought he was an American tourist kilted up as a Scot for the benefit of the Scottish, but it turns out he was the Scottish doorman kilted up as a Scot for the benefit of American tourists - or a tourist like me.

Last impressions of Edinburgh through a rain-spotted car window ...

Le chien Provençal

Le chien Provençal is a veteran frequenter of sidewalk cafés ... accustomed to eyeing the action from underneath the tables with eager interest, or perhaps a look of disdainful boredom ...

He understands that the village fountain is a good place to cool down on a hot summer's day, or have a drink, but never pee  ...

Le chien provencal is a seasoned brocanteur, and knows how useful he can be  for sniffing out the bargains ...

 ... guarding the goods ...

... and even manning the stalls ...

If left at home, on the other hand, le chien Provençal will make himself useful by guarding the village house ...

... while le patron of the village shop can rest assured that le chien will oversee the threshold, looking suitably intimidating ...

(Quel adorable! How could you not love this face?)

And what can be said of le chat Provençal? ...

For heaven's sake, don't tap on the window - you'll wake him up!

Brocante-ing in the south of France

The south of France in the summer is practically synonymous with brocantes, the French version of antique and flea market rolled into one, something I'd really looked forward to ....  the only problem, as I quickly discovered, is getting there - often after driving some distance - before the heaving August crowds descend and it becomes a struggle to park or even move around.

So when a brocante/vide grenier was advertised in our little village of Goult on a Saturday morning, I was thrilled - all I had to do was roll out of bed and walk down the street.

I was in the village square as the church bells were striking 7 am ... in the Place de la Libération (there's one in every single French village it would seem) and extending into all the side streets and alleyways, stall holders were setting up their tables ...

... silverware being laid out on linen-covered tables, a beautiful Provençal boutis casually tossed in a heap on a bush, furniture being unpacked from vans, house wares - some good pieces amongst some junk ...

With only a few customers about at this hour, it was clear that the early birds were going to get the worms ...

... and for this early bird, that meant making a bee-line for the old French linens - monogrammed sheets, pillowcases, table cloths and serviettes, once part of a 19th century bride's trousseau, these have lasted for generations, getting softer with every wash.

Pure linen, rough hemp, or metis (cotton and linen mix) - it was in suitcases, plastic crates, slung over bushes ...

This lady (below, with her husband helping her lay out her linens from crates in the car) had the best selection and became my new best friend. A moment of panic set in when a dealer arrived, a glint in her eye, and started scooping up goods (no you don't, I wanted that!), and I understood why the first rule of the brocante is 'get there early'.

Mission accomplished, feeling good about the small stack of linens at bargain prices now safely in my basket, I could enjoy wandering around the streets, poking about for interesting items, fantasising about how well one could furnish an entire village house with brocante finds...

This is clearly a social affair in France, a weekend hobby, a place for convivial chat with neighbours, for a little polite bargaining, and the fun of hunting for something unique or special. Everywhere I heard people wishing each other at the end of a bit of chat "bon weekend et bonne chine" (chiner - antique bargain hunting) ...

I loved the random and unexpected mix of professional dealers with good quality antiques and individuals selling  their second-hand cast-offs (vide grenier - empty attic) ...

... an old suitcase of nostalgia (feeding the French Johnny Hallyday obsession)  shares space with zinc roosters, Provençal santons (nativity figures) and handwoven tapestries ... and at one stall a man had chaotic stacks and piles of old books and handwritten documents ...

 

These two gents, seasoned brocanteurs, had settled themselves for the morning with comfortable chairs and newspapers, their paintings stacked up against the wall of Goult's 12th century church ...

... perhaps later on they'd enjoy a little companionable pastis in the sunshine?

Summer eating in Provence

Think aioli, bouillabaisse, loup, pistou, gigot d'agneau, ratatouille, tapenade ... and you have Provençal food, known and prepared all over the world. But in Provence it all starts with the open-air food marchés found in every town and village ... these are the stars, the highlight of the food realm.

Here are a few tiny glimpses of the overwhelming variety of fresh, sun-grown and locally-made produce at the Wednesday marché in one of the loveliest of towns in this region - St Remy de Provence - spreading out from the central town square in front of the Mairie ...

It's a full sensory experience, a riot of colours and smells and textures ...

It's art, social event, entertainment and an education all of its own ...

Take it home and enjoy it en famille ...

... or go out and discover what local chefs do with their homegrown bounty ...

Clockwise from top left, a few places we ate fabulously well:  Brasserie les Variétés and Bistrot Découverte - 19 and 32 Boulevard Victor Hugo, 13210 St Rémy de Provence, Du Pain sur la Planche - Route de Cavaillon 84660 Coustellet/Maubec, Les Cuisines du Chateau - Au Pied du Chateau, 84220 Gordes.

Outdoor tables in Lourmarin, Goult, Bonnieux

The chalk blackboard - l'ardoise - is everywhere, because what the chef vous propose aujourd'hui may almost certainly be different demain, depending on what struck his or her fancy at the marché that day.

Bon appetit!