When the sheep came to Saint Remy!

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Faced with yet another French public holiday (the Monday after Whitsunday we gather), we had to plan accordingly. Maybe we should go somewhere a little out of town that may not be so popular and difficult to park in - maybe the Roman ruins at Glanum. We did our due diligence last night and were getting ready to go when neighbour Sami came to the door. He is not only our new best friend, but this point, our only best friend! He had made some mention of moutons or sheep, yesterday, but to Aussies that wasn’t something we found exciting. This morning he was insistent - tres magnifique! En centre ville! Markets, food, be there or be square, basically.

So we changed our plans, as we feel rather accountable to our self appointed tour guide and french tutor, and decided to have a look. We now know there is an exciting little secret passage out from our place that brings us out next to the bakery, and cuts the distance to the square to less than 50 metres, so out we went to find the entire place in carnival mode. People lining the streets, sitting on every raised spot, streets closed for stalls and entertainment and a lovely chanteuse singing her heart out in the middle of the main intersection. We couldn’t hear any of it from our place, even though we are close.

All we knew was that sheep were coming at 11 o'clock. I sat on the church steps while Peter wandered and we both stole some candid shots of gorgeous French enfants and dogs - it was clearly a family festival. Suddenly there was a stirring in the crowd and a sound that I realised was like the thunder of small hooves, and up the road they came: hundreds and then thousands of sheep! Herded by just a few shepherds, they were all jammed together, hell bent on getting to the end of the road and back to some grass, I suspect! Every now and then we saw a black sheep, and towards the end, some goats (clearly no sorting of sheep and goats was going to happen today), and finally a wagon carrying a family dressed like old fashioned farmers. And then it was over, apart from the fresh sheep poo all over the main ring road of the town! I don’t think I have ever applauded sheep before!!

It was a good opportunity to explore another quadrant of the town after wending our way through the market stalls. We succumbed to lemon nougat and I found a present for a grand daughter (four gifts found, only eleven to go!). We ate our croissants from the bakery we now know and wandered. The part we saw had two of the well known musees that we will return to, galleries, boutiques and thousands of people eating outside. Everywhere the plane trees have been shaped to provide the exact right amount of shade over the eating areas and the temperature was just perfect. Sitting in one square we watched some toddlers exploring the fountain until they got saturated. There were cute poppets dancing to the busker's singing and I saw a father throwing his child up into the air and catching her, over and over - why do men do that?!

So what was it all about? I guess it stood for some sort of acknowledgement of the role of farms in the life of the city. On this one day, the sheep take over the road and the farmers are applauded. It is a coming together of rural and urban and a stampede of interdependence. It is arguable that the humans who gathered were as sheeplike as the animals, ourselves included. Whatever, it was a whimsical, unplanned experience that made us smile. The Roman ruins have been there for centuries - they will still be there tomorrow.

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