Treguier returns to its mediaevel roots (see Ad Lib 135) on Market Day. Its streets thronged with hawkers and travellers. Bargains are demonstratively struck. Vendors loudly tout their wares; and their customers respond with equal vehemence.
One seller is momentarily taken aback, by an unusually argumentative client. Seemingly bent on setting the world to rights, rather than on making a purchase.
By and large, would be patrons are keen to make a purchase. Perhaps after savouring a small sample of the goods on offer. Then to move on swiftly.
Along this modern day pilgrim's trail. Which fans out across the flat land atop the riverbank. . . .
. . . .and scrambles up steep cobbled streets. With stallholders seizing the opportunity, of any lull in their brisk trade, for a swift lunchtime snack.
At the hill's summit, two flamenco guitarists strike up. Sitting on the stone flags before the cathedral door. Weaving intricate melodies, tapping toes, eyes locked. Together elevated to a higher musical space.
An appreciative audience soon forms. Some circle the duo, applauding between numbers. Cobbles defeat several who would dance. Still others, soak up the rhythmic feel-good aura subliminally. Whilst setting about the serious business of shopping, Wicker baskets at the ready.
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