Sarlat's Saturday Market in Southwestern France

After what feels like far too long, I am back in the land of Neandertals, Cro-Magnon, truffles, troubadours, and life closely lived in connection with the land, waterways, and sky. The market sets up below my window over one of two market squares. First arrived the fish seller at 5:30 AM to arrange her fish as florists arrange gorgeous bouquets. I can see that dourade, flounder, trout, scallops, mussels and oysters are a part of the sparkling fresh display.

A huge storm just washed through early this morning. While for the fish seller the challenge wasn't as great, as the fish were already wet, the bread baker had more of a time keeping his oven fresh goods dry. He succeeded and both vendors were able to greet, while still setting up, old time customers, locals in their 70s to 90s, who like to hit the market before the great crowds of visitors arrive to take in one of France's most beautiful markets. An elderly man in his 80s arrived with his umbrella and his little woven basket hung on one arm and bought some trout. Another in his 70s came with his shopping bag and picked up a few loaves of rustic bread. 

Long ago as an anthropologist I learned that markets will tell you a lot about the personality of the community in which they unfold week after week. Markets will tell you how they treat each other. They will tell you how they welcome outsiders. They will tell you how well they live the day to day. And if you are lucky and return again and again, they will tell you deep stories of remarkable lives that unfold lyrically and engagingly in their usual 25 mile radius.

This market reflects kindness to each other, a warm welcome to the visitor, whether s/he visits only once or is a repeat fan like myself. It reflects a deep connection to the land and the seasons, to locally grown and organic and locally crafted foods. And it offers rich, engaging stories, some of which I have been lucky enough to write about in my forthcoming travel memoir, Cafe Oc. For the latter, stay tuned, it should be out soon and I'll announce it here (You can learn more from my talk about it on YouTube though!). For the former, let your imagination come here and soak up the colors and smells, and the addictive laughter of the woman who sells goat cheese from Rocamadour, the saucy banter of the fish seller, the steady low key warmth of the bread baker, the bright warmth of the strawberry seller, and the Occitan garden talk of the lettuce seller and her husband with just picked greens from their kitchen garden. 


Ah, and now all the merchants have gathered at the bread baker's stand and are enjoying a traditional breakfast of foie gras, cheese, bread, and red wine, each ingredient contributed from each vendor's stand. Add savoring life to the market's personality. I have one week in this sublime spot and then I move a few miles south to begin the dig season with work at the Neandertal site of La Ferrassie for the rest of the summer. That is a related adventure. I may not get to see the weekly market set up under my window but I will get to the roots of the original inhabitants in this food rich land and gain better insights into why they too were drawn here. (I will write about that in my forthcoming book, Cafe Neanderthal).

May we all be reminded and bring into our lives again and again what these markets sustain: community, life with the land and each other and all creatures, and a daily balance that speaks of deep well being and real wealth.