You hit the Fontvieille market in the morning. You come across a few vendors selling old/antique metal boules, but only in sets of two, not three, so you're really not interested, in spite of some interesting patterns. Then you come across some really antique boules, made in the early 1900s -- call them 100 years old. They have an outer skin of scales and an inner core of wood. There was a boule thrown so many times it was misshapen with use. You decide to "think" about a purchase, but let it go. During the course of the day you pass the market a few more times, think about buying the boules and don't. Finally, out by the pool, at 5 p.m., you start kicking yourself for not scoring les boules: they are cool, you'll never see a pair like that again, the market is probably over, etc., . . ..
Pissed at yourself, you say fuck it, get in the car and drive to Fontvieille encore. It's now 6 p.m. and you know the guy has packed up and left. You are half right: he is packed, but he hasn't left. You buy the pair for 50 euros, in mint condition, still perfectly round.
Snake skin found by Phillipe.
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