Well, it appears that Saint Martin really is a saint after all. Without the festival that bears his name, I’d actually have to write something clever today. Finders, I’m just too tired. I’ve been averaging about 4 hours sleep a night for over 9 weeks straight. So, if it’s a clever story you’re after, you’re shit out of luck. But if it’s cultural exchange you’re seeking, well, today’s your lucky jour. Without further delay, more from the Foire de Saint-Martin.
As I told you, giant slabs of meat were not the only points of deliciousness …
And while marinated olives, specialty nougats (Mom, I know you’re drooling), spicy gingerbreads and sugared honey cakes called Nonnettes (words cannot describe) are, as almost everyone will agree, reason enough to give thanks to any saint, what I really love about these fairs are the people.
A young woman making tartes—tattoos meet tradition …
Vevey’s revered Chicken Man who speaks any language you like, has raised roasting poulet to high art, makes a porc Chinoise to die for and, on occasions like this, tosses plates of sticky ribs and frites …
And then there’s the oyster guy, for those who like to eat on the wild side …
I tend to get stuck on the food at these events, but there is always something for every taste, from jewelry to books to every kind of knick-knack and bric-a-brac. The one thing that always grabs me are les foulards.
Oh if only I had a paycheck, every one of those would have been draped around my ridiculously long neck. But who has time to be distracted by pretty scarves when there are “T-Shirts Americains” to be had …
Don’t laugh, these babies were selling at 49 bucks a pop. To whom remains a mystery. Americans, I weep for you.
What a time this was and what a way to fall in love with a town. It’s less about the goods on display and more about experiencing something wonderful and unexpected. Like haphazardly pointing your phone at a crowd and not realizing until days later what was inadvertently captured …
Whoever you are, you two, my sentiments exactly.
I want that first scarf on the extreme right of the photo. Can you put it on layaway for me?
3rd from the left for me please !
Awwww….that last picture is epic.
And I’m pretty sure that those T-shirts are from China.
I’m pretty sure whoever labelled those shirts as “American” has never set foot on your shores ;)
Though they might have seen Facebook pages for teenagers and Fantasy Conventions…
I have to admit I owned a fairy t-shirt or two when I was oh so young and stylish. I think it was around the time when long hair and a brooding scowl were sexy.
Specialty nougats. You can pity we poor Americans for not having those, instead.
I’m interested in the tattoos, too. The trend seems to be densely-inked arm and wrist bands, rather than individual images. Wonder if that’s a cultural thing, an age thing, or just a coincidence?
Hel-LO Oyster Guy! ahem.
What a way to fall in love with a town, indeed. Some of my favorite memories of when I lived in Germany are of the little town festivals for this or that. Heaven.
Once again I’ve turned this terrible color—“green with envy”, I think they call it–ha ha.
Enjoy ;o)
I am pretty sure that you ought to be considering a career in photography and travel magazines!
And I even took some of these! But really, Neil is the photographer in this marriage.
Wonderful photos – thanks for bringing this festival to us. I feel like I was there, almost – without gaining an ounce :)
Gorgeous cheeses. Do you say out of the frying pan and into the ?