I have a nice little routine forming... every Sunday (if it’s not pouring with rain) as Roddy hits the road by bike, I take myself off to any brocante which happens to be on that day.
As early summer shakes away late spring, brocante signs suddenly seem to pop up everywhere by road sides advertising village names in black capitals on loud fluorescent paper.
There are huge brocantes out here like the many car-boots in the UK, but here, they generall...