Together with friends, Salome and Gerrie, I breakfasted on coffee and pain au chocolat at Arles. Situated at the crossroads of the Rhone and the Roman Via Aurelia, Arles was designated the first city of Provence by Julius Caesar. 
The magnificent more or less intact Roman arena which could seat 10 000 spectators is larger and older than its counterpart in Nimes. I had not expected to find so many fine examples of Roman architecture and engineering in Provence but, of course, it was exactly that in antiquity- Provincia Romana. 
Turning a corner, slowly wandering half-lost down a cobble street, stopping to buy fine serviettes and linens, we came upon the Arles Saturday market. Baskets of lavender.
Pans of steaming paella.
Tubs of carmine strawberries.
Mauve and white streaked bulbs of garlic.
Mounds of cheeses.
Snails bubbling in a tomato flavoured sauce.
Striped melons making a Cezanne-like still life.
Piles of purple and green rough-skinned avocadoes.
Bunches of pink and white radishes.
Artichokes reminiscent of an armadilo's rough plated skin.
And on the other side of the road, delicately embroidered chemises of yesteryear.
Pans of steaming paella.
Tubs of carmine strawberries. 
Mauve and white streaked bulbs of garlic.
Mounds of cheeses.
Snails bubbling in a tomato flavoured sauce.
Striped melons making a Cezanne-like still life.
Piles of purple and green rough-skinned avocadoes.
Bunches of pink and white radishes.
Artichokes reminiscent of an armadilo's rough plated skin.
And on the other side of the road, delicately embroidered chemises of yesteryear.
