Yes, we headed to Le Muy for the markets. Of course.

I’ve included another map to help you work out where we are. If we kept going south, Mick said we could reach St Tropez. Possibly another hour’s drive. But, we never intend doing that. We will stick to the much smaller towns and villages in Provence.

Le Muy is famous for being one of the first towns to be liberated in August 1944, when the Allies invaded Southern France.

Unfortunately, the Le Muy Markets were a big disappointment.

They certainly were big – the biggest we’ve been to so far with well over 100 stalls, but most of them were selling clothing, hats and underwear. About 10% of the stalls were selling produce.

Anyone for garlic?

Mick was very happy to part with €6.50 for a bottle of a locally made red.

The grower explained that the red was made from 50% Carignan grapes and 50% Mourvèdre grapes. Both varieties are also widely grown in Languedoc- Roussillon where Mick fell in love with big French reds.

Mick laughed at me for getting conned into buying a vegetable peeler. But the Frenchman demonstrating it was very persuasive. I parted with €10 for this.

In front of the church square there was a lot of commotion. The priest was waiting to enter the church for Mass, when some music started up and a small number of people dressed in costumes started to dance.

Mick and I could not understand what was going on at all.

After morning tea, including munching on a fresh baguette, we headed to Château d’Esclans. Our host family had suggested this as a great stop.

It was very fancy. And very expensive. Note my shock as I checked out prices for €90+ per bottle.

We didn’t buy anything here. Rosé is obviously what this place is famous for and although we’ll both drink rosé, it’s not our preferred drink. Especially at the prices they were asking.

It was very foggy or smokey all day today – we could not work out which. We could not see Seillans from our backyard.

We had one extra job this evening. That was to deliver a dozen eggs to neighbours of our host family.

Each Sunday, the son delivers them a dozen eggs – it’s his pocket money. The walk was pretty steep and we enjoyed a swim when we got home, along with a cloudy cider Mick had bought a few days ago.

We may have a rest day tomorrow.

We’ll wait and see.