282. The village fête

Unstable stands were lined up on each side of the road all along the village main and only street. They were made of wooden trestles and odd bits of wood or folding camping tables. Behind them, the merchants of one day were sitting on kitchen chairs, proudly guarding their bric-à-brac. All this had been brought down form attics or brought up from cellars to be laid under the hot summer sun. All this would have to be taken back up or down the same stairs at the end of the day - minus a few items. Yet it did not matter, people were happy with hopeful smiles on their faces,  as they watched the many passers-by no doubt in need of exactly what the had on display. These were the type of thoughts going through my head as I strolled up the road picking things up here and there, frowning and squinting, pretending to be a renown antiquaire able to spot the hidden treasures from the junk. But out of the blue my studied persona was shattered to pieces when a loud roaring sound made seek refuge in between the stands. I turned to look and remembered the défilé de voitures anciennes on the festivities programme. Surely they were not meant to do this in the middle of the vide-grenier! Maybe this was a lone car looking for all the others? The cacophony of dozens of discordant horns soon filled the air and everyone knew this was not a lone car. They all put their objects down and turned to watch the antique cars clamber up the steep hill. A squeaky clean 2CV in its original blue was beeping its way up followed by a Renault 4L that did not look that out of place in the buzzing village. A Renault 5 Alpine Turbo was furiously roaring away to show it could still make the speed and behind it, a Citroën Ami 6 was ready for competition. A green Triumph arrived and then a Cadillac of some sort which pushed people even closer to the stands. All of these vehicles were driven to the top of the village, many by women I noted and imagined myself driving our vehicle up this road next year. The hill was steep and the engines no doubt perfectly reconditioned were struggling to stop and hill-start in the middle of the crowds and black fumes soon appeared into the still hot air. Other modern vehicles were trying to make their way to the center of the village and this created a bit of confusion with some old versus modern beeping competition. The village traffic came to a stand still for a few minutes and there was so much shouting and bantering I wondered if this was a mishap or a prepared show. There was a peak of pollution and all traffic came to a stand-still. Eventually the person in charge remembered he was in charge of opening the gate for the cars to drive into the grassy field and be admired by all. When everyone was back at picking bits and bobs an other engine was coughing up the hill, gear stick and breaks squeaking and screeching. The vehicle was a sheep-truck from 1921 and could obviously not keep up but was applauded all the way.