Sales and trollies

Ste Alix

Misty likes to get as close as she can to me when I'm writing the blog!!! If she was any closer she would be sitting on the keyboard.

I am always saying how things are much slower over here. We used to get so irritated standing in the check out queue at Sainsbury's near Guildford but now we just accept that on certain days and at certain times queues are inevitable.

The sales started in France today. The timing of sales in France is set by the government (bless them). There are only two sales periods in France, one in winter and one in summer, each lasting about 4 - 5 weeks. So there is none of the discounting all year round to compete with your neighbour's shop that happens in the UK where someone always seems to have a sale. We popped into our local furniture and electrical store to buy a new printer/scanner. There was nothing wrong with our printer but we did need a scanner and picked up a bargain in the sales. The queue was long at the checkout and it was interesting to browse what everyone else is buying. The young couple in front of us had picked up some bright pink voile curtains and something I couldn't quite make out, also in shocking pink - it looked like a very long fringe!

That was nothing though compared to the trollies in the hypermarket.

The sales had started in there too and bedding and towels were going down a storm. We had only popped in for some bread, milk and potatoes which gave us much more time to browse other people's trollies while we were in the slowest queue (why do we always manage to pick that one?).

The couple who had bought the shocking pink items in the previous shop were there buying disposable nappies and bathtowels. The elderly lady behind them had her obligatory brown barrel of the cheapest wine, a dozen bottles of water and a bag of leeks while the lady directly behind us had her week's shopping, the trolley piled high with vegetables, dairy goods, tinned goods and meat.

It was the couple in front of us who really intrigued us. He was about our age and she was very much younger, from their conversation (yes I'm a dreadful eavesdropper as well as a trolley peeper) they were not a 'couple' but worked together.

Onto the conveyor belt they piled box after box of long-life, ready prepared convenience meals, all ready for the microwave. Boeuf bourgignon, gratin dauphinoise, chicken in pesto sauce, the boxes piled higher and higher. They must have completely emptied the shelves. Following these were syrups of every colour - the French have syrups instead of our orange or lemon squash, there were bright red ones, bright green ones and a blue one (?). Tins of sardines followed on behind, three bottles of sunflower oil, several tins of pâté, a dozen packets of butter and, finally, 48 toilet rolls of the cheap and ghastly pink type so loved by the French.

I've never seen a trolley like it. The French are very proud of their cooking skills and, although convenience foods are widely available, I have never seen people buy more than the odd one or two, obviously preferring to use fresh ingredients on a daily basis. We ourselves are very proud of the fact that we haven't had a 'ready meal' since we left the UK.

Who, we wondered, were going to be the unfortunate recipients of these epicurean (?) delights? Hopefully not a school. Staff in a works canteen would surely refuse point blank to eat them.

Sadly we were never to find out but we were amazed when the gentleman handed a card to the checkout lady, she typed in some numbers and they both walked out without handing over a penny.

That's the sort of shopping I would like to do - but for my own choice of consumables, thank you.