Les Marolles with Jérôme

He goes there every day. Without fail. But it’s nowhere near his home, nor is it on his path. He doesn’t really go there for the bargains, just for the childlike pleasure of treasure hunting and for the love of mysterious objects with unknown uses. One day, he came across a pharmacist’s mould for making suppositories – that was a real enigma!
He tells me that even though the atmosphere is different from one day to the next, the ritual remains unchanged. The lorries arrive at 7 a.m. and by 8 a.m. everyone is unloading. At 9 a.m., the police blow their whistles to signal it’s time for the lorries to move off to their parking spaces. According to Jérôme, you have to be there at 8am; that’s when the most interesting stuff is put out, and it gets snapped up instantly. He gets a bit annoyed to hear that stolen items are often found for sale at the market. Most of what is sold here has been collected from house clearances after someone has died. Years of family memorabilia in boxes laid out on the pavement. Lovers of niche objects scour them for that rare pearl. Jérôme has a passion for old tools, those that still work after years of use. This morning he spent a good twenty minutes discussing the subject with Mohammed, whose stand is a compendium of marvels of this kind laid out in a meticulous display. They compare their best finds of tools that I’d be hard pressed to guess the use of. But they know what they’re for and admire them as if they were great works of art.
He tells me to come back again, that I’ll get a taste for it. I’m sure I will, especially given that I’ve finally found the perfect rug; one that I’ve been searching for for months.