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Riches aplenty amid the bric-a-brac

Buying train tickets from Marseille to L’Isle sur la Sorgue, I just know it’s going to be a fun day.

The engaging young woman at the ticket counter offers me a sizeable “youth discount”, because, as she says, eyes twinkling: “It is clear that you are young, monsieur.” “Would you believe I’m only 25,” I ask.

“Non, monsieur,” she smiles prettily. “I would not believe that, although I believe you are young.” I think I’m in love, anyway, and our little flirtation warms the pleasant 80-minute rail trip through appealing Provencal countryside.

L’Isle sur la Sorgue is well known as the brocante (bric-a- brac, antiques and old things) capital of Provence. Built on several islands created by five branches of the River Sorgue, it’s a pocket-sized medieval town of 18,000 people. Some of the river branches are really canals nowadays but, alas, there are no gondolas. However, the combination of water, quaint buildings, huge shady plane trees and ancient waterwheels make it charming.

Bridge on L’Isle sur la Sorgue.

More than 300 “antique” merchants have shops here. Visitors swarm all over the place at weekends, so parking is impossible. On Thursdays and Sundays, there’s a celebrated market, as well as two huge international fairs each year.

From the station, the approach to the town is disappointingly grimy and dusty. Slightly let down, we stop at a tiny cafe next to one of the canalised rivers for coffee and strawberry tarts. Delicious. Locals are downing huge meals and vast quantities of wine and beer. We stroll through a couple of antique and brocante shops, of which there are many, and consider cutting our losses and returning to Marseille.

But then, we turn the corner.

Wow. All of a sudden, like the magic of Disney, the canal becomes a river, with crystal- clear waters, flanked by a gorgeous town square on one side and a sweet little park on the other. A few lovely low bridges criss-cross the river. They’re decorated with hanging baskets, thickly planted with bright geraniums. Cute boutiques and cafes, buskers, happy alfresco diners and picnickers complete the picture.

There are even more antique and brocante sellers on this side of town. Their wares are varied, unusual, beautiful and costly. It’s still rather fascinating, though, as we just don’t see a lot of these wares in Australia. We might linger for a while.

L’Isle sur la Sorgue has a bit of a reputation for overcharging. The writer Peter Mayle, once said: “The only thing you won’t get in L’Isle is a bargain.” Ouch. But it’s so pretty that we don’t really care. Several ancient waterwheels still operate here and there. Dragging huge loads of moss on their frames, they’re really for the benefit of tourists, rather than the formerly thriving silk works, paper mills and woollen mills of the Middle Ages, when there were 70 working waterwheels.

L’Isle sur la Sorgue is renowned for its antique and bric-a-brac shops.

The further into the town we venture, the more medieval it gets. Stumbling on to a small, ancient square lined with tempting boutiques, we weaken and buy some local handicrafts, a Provencal quilt, jewellery and gifts. Nearby, the coolest of cool jazz bands is playing outside a packed bar. Squeezing into a couple of terrace seats, we sit contentedly in the sun, sipping beer, grazing on nuts and olives, while the band entertains us for the next hour or so. It’s pretty special.

Some handmade fig and mascarpone ice-cream helps us to fuel up for the journey back to Marseille. We’re tempted by the prospect of bouillabaisse and mussels in Marseille’s stunning Vieux Port, the old harbour. It’s only two more stops on the Metro from the main Saint-Charles station.

We quickly choose a waterfront eatery. An enormous china bowl with a hearty, steaming broth dominates our table, followed by bread and a large cast-iron pot, crammed full of several varieties of fish, octopus and crustaceans. At the same time, a generous pot full of mussels arrives, with a huge dollop of fries.

Street entertainment in L’Isle sur la Sorgue.

Only then do we remember reading warnings about eating in Vieux Port. Is it authentic? Is it too expensive? Are we just another pair of giddy, naive tourists being cruelly ripped off? We don’t know, but it all seems delicious and good value.

The serves are hearty and we eat far more than is good for us but we love every mouthful. It’s a perfect end to a great day.