In the background of this snap sits Mount Ventoux. Although I was pretty close to it today, the colour of the little you can see, and those dark foreboding clouds above, give some idea of the weather. I was in the town of Carpentras in the Vaucluse where the mistral was howling around like an angry lion. The journey there was a bit scary: I’m now driving around in a Twingo which, apart from permanently displaying an illuminated spanner on the dashboard, seems to find it difficult to keep its wheels on the ground when journeying alongside the Rhone. So why take the trouble …

… someone here might have the answer. Sunday in Carpentras is brocante day. To be fair, this one was half the size of those seen in the summer, and most of the vendors were hiding in their vans. To begin with, the prices were exorbitant: I’ve noticed that at this time of year, many marketeers take the view that it’s better to get top dollar with so few people around. Consequently, people walk away empty-handed in amazement at the audacity of being demanded 30 euro for a small photograph that would need reframing, or 25 euro for a battered old tin. Surely it would be better to reduce the prices and not have to take all the junk home again.

And this is the philosophy of Michel who I found almost at the end of the market. You have to have a good old firkle amongst all the stuff, and not mind his cheerful banter and repetitive demands of whether I speak German. No, and neither do you Michel. Why would we when we can manage perfectly well in Franglais?

I found some nice treasure on his stall and beat him down with such skill that he asked me whether whether I was a marchand (trader) in England. I told him about my renovations and he agreed to have his photo on my blog. Voila. Maybe I’ll show you some of my purchases later.

Not being in a particular rush to get back in the Twingo, I decided to have a look around the town – you can only get so cold and windswept, after which it doesn’t seem to matter. At the end of the market stands this really impressive memorial to those that died in WW1. You have to hand it to the French, they don’t spare the horses when it comes to remembering the lost ones.

And after that, I chose to venture up this street. Well, who wouldn’t want to experience all that colour on such a drab day? I had no idea where I was going but it didn’t really matter. As ever, there was something to see wherever you look.

For example, down a little side street, I found this suggestion hanging outside a tenement building: ‘don’t forget to be incredible every day’. Well, I do my best but of course it’s all in the eye and opinion of the beholder. Further, if it means I look like the person hanging outside next door’s window, I might ignore the advice.

See what I mean?

This was the door to the seventeenth century convent of the Carmelite nuns which, apparently, was destroyed in1930. The Carmelites were founded in12th century Israel as followers of the prophet Elijah. I didn’t find out much about their time in Carpentras, but I did learn that in 1993, Pope Jean Paul 11 instructed fourteen of them to vacate the convent they’d established on the site of the death camp at Auschwitz. Further, they were to take the cross they’d erected with them, thus ending the tensions between Roman Catholics and the wider Jewish community in Poland. Do you remember yesterday when I wrote about St Trophimus and the problems between Gentiles and Jews? I think I said ‘same old’.

Speaking of Trophimus, here’s the Saint-Siffrein cathedral which was begun in 1405 but took over 100 years to complete. Well, you know what they say about French builders. It stands on the site of three previous churches so clearly sacred ground. Actually, you can’t get in it today as it’s pretty much surrounded on three sides by scaffolding and other building detritus. I suppose they’re having a refurb.

Nobody knows much about Saint Siffrein, who was the first bishop of Carpentras at the beginning of the seventh century. A person would at least want to know what he did to warrant a sainthood. Anyway, what reminds me of Trophimus is that in exactly the same year that Arles cathedral was decommissioned (1801), the cathedral in Carpentras suffered a similar fate: the bishopric moved to Avignon, and the ‘cathedral’ became a church. It certainly wasn’t a great year for ecclesiastical buildings.

And talking of decommissioned buildings, I passed this lovely old place on the way to nowhere in particular and took a snap as I thought it looked a bit French(!).

Well, I suppose you’re waiting with baited breath to see what I bought at the brocante?

I didn’t pay 25 euro for my tin in which I intend to put dried flowers – I parted with 4 euro. And bargain of the day has to be these antique binoculars. I have a lovely view from my new extension at home and hope to make these a bit of a statement piece, especially as one pair actually works. Michel wanted 20 euro each but I got away with 15 euro for the two. You never know what you might find on a windy Sunday.