After a couple of gelatos, we started the trek back up to our house when Stace’s bike pedal fell off. She told me to go ahead, that she was happy to walk her bike back up the hill. So I biked off, passing locals on their afternoon walks and a garage sale where the proprietors yelled out “buon giorno!”
I waited twenty minutes or so for Stace to meet up with me at the town cemetery. When she didn’t show, I started to worry that she had been hit by a car and was lying dead at the bottom of the hill. I started to bike back down the hill, only to find her at the garage sale, glass of wine in hand, while two guys tried to fix her bike.
The garage sale turned out to be a treasure trove. Valentin, the owner of the house, had been an antiques dealer in the south of France and used his garage sales to get rid of old inventory. His friends stopped in and added to his merchandise.
I left with a pair of boots, a crocheted bag, suspenders for my dad, and this vase. Oh, how I love this vase.