Man, what a day! I swear, Roquemaure is wild. I woke up, sun shining, birds chirping, thought it’d be chill. Nope! Not even close.
First off, I’m a swineherd, right? So, I’m used to the smell of pigs. But today? Ugh, I got a whiff of something else. Like, what’s that? I’m walking down Rue de la République, and bam! A skunk? A trash fire? Who knows! Just my luck, right?
So, I’m trying to get to the market. Gotta sell some of my best pork. You know, the good stuff. But the streets are packed! I mean, it’s like a parade of tourists. They’re all snapping pics of the old church, Église Saint-Pierre. I’m like, “Hey, I got some fine swine here!” But they’re too busy posing.
Then, I bump into this guy. Total jerk. He’s got a fancy camera, acting all high and mighty. I’m like, “Dude, you’re in my way!” He just rolls his eyes. Ugh! I wanted to shove him into the Rhône. Seriously, who does he think he is?
Finally, I make it to the market. It’s buzzing! People everywhere, shouting, haggling. I set up my stall on Rue des Écoles. My pork is looking good, I’m feeling good. Then, this lady comes up. She’s all smiles, right? But then she asks if my pigs are free-range. I’m like, “Lady, they’re practically my family!”
But she’s not buying it. She wants organic, gluten-free, whatever that means. I’m just trying to sell some meat here! I mean, come on!
Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, really rain. I’m scrambling to cover my stuff. My pork! My beautiful pork! I’m yelling, “Get under the awning!” But no one listens. They’re all running around like headless chickens.
And then, guess what? I slip on some mud. Yup, right in front of everyone. I’m on the ground, covered in muck. I hear laughter. Great, just great. I’m the swineherd who became a pig.
But then, this kid comes up. He’s got a big ol’ grin. “You’re funny, mister!” he says. And I can’t help but laugh. Kids, man. They see the world differently.
After the rain, the sun comes out. It’s like Roquemaure is saying, “Hey, don’t be a grump!” I look around, and the streets are glistening. The Rhône is sparkling. I feel a bit better.
I pack up my stall, but I sold a decent amount. Not bad for a day full of chaos. I stroll down Rue de la Liberté, feeling a bit lighter. I stop by a café, grab a coffee. The barista knows me. “You look like you need this,” she says, handing me a cup.
I sit outside, watching the world go by. The old men are playing pétanque, the kids are laughing, and I’m just there, sipping my coffee. Life’s not so bad, right?
So yeah, Roquemaure, you’re a trip. Full of surprises, laughter, and a bit of mud. I’ll take it. Just another day in the life of a swineherd.