Shopping on the last Saturday before Christmas in a country where it is celebrated is always a trip. When I was first in the States I used to go to the mall at 11pm on Christmas eve just to watch (and join) the last minute frenzy. At a certain point it ceased to be a competition for prized and sought-after gifts and became a community of people who just. needed. to. get. something. A strange camaraderie descended. People asked if anyone had seen fur-lined slippers or where festive sweaters might be and everyone jumped in to help and make suggestions for alternatives as appropriate. People sought inspiration in other people’s baskets and impatience was replaced with conversations about who was visiting for Christmas and why they were at the mall at midnight. For a single, homesick graduate student, this strange dynamic became Christmas, and I am sad that Amazon Prime and all the other rapid delivery services have replaced that late-night community (perhaps the cashiers are not).
On December 20th in Cordes-sur-Ciel there was no such panic. The market was busy and there was a fish man I had never seen with a good assortment of oysters and moules (which I purchased for supper). He said he would be back on Wednesday. There were more Christmassy things and even someone selling truffles, and the foie gras stall was doing brisk trade, but there seemed to be a general calm amidst the decorations and there seemed to be plenty of everything as far as I could see. Certainly fruit and vegetables were in good supply.
By the following Wednesday’s little market in Les Cabannes, at the bottom of the hill, there did seem to be a run. Nothing at all left on the fish stand by 10:30 (I wanted more moules), and no fancy bread. Cheese was plenty, and vegetables, and the wine person was doing a brisk trade, but nowhere near the frenzy of August.
E.Lecerc in Gaillac was a little more interesting on Saturday afternoon. The road to the supermarket was a slow moving jam for the last mile, and the parking lot had clearly been full a little earlier, with cars still parked in odd places around the edges of the lot. I got a spot and a cart and prepared to do battle. The carts are too wide for the aisles at the best of times, but with whole families dragging behind each cart there was no “quick grabbing a few things.” And then there was Santa Claus and the various mini marching bands and majorettes that paraded through the store at regular intervals. It was all very festive, but they mostly just blocked our ability to get around without providing that sense of community and festive spirit of the 1990s mall.
I couldn’t get a good shot of the baton swirlers and and pom pom wavers, and then Santa insisted I take a selfie with him. Clearly it was time to go
