Sitting quaffing beer in the open air on a balmy summer night in Bruges, on the eve of the big fleamarket which is said to be the largest in Europe, we felt contentedly rewarded already and satisfied in that way that confirms you made the right decision to sample the experience.
In the packed cafes and bars around the Koning Albertpark and t’Zand where the massive Zandfeesten event is staged only three times a year, the atmosphere is filled with an electric air of eager anticipation.
The hubub was coming from hundreds of ‘brocanteurs’ who’d arrived in time for next day’s crack-of-dawn start.
Belgium is renowned for its second-hand markets. Tonight, there were English, Flemish, French and Dutch accents all chatting excitedly.
Next day the area would become a hive of frantic wheeling and dealing, the big city centre space crammed with stalls and tents. Overspill activity threads like tentacles through half a dozen side streets to provide further hours of rummaging and bartering.
Meanwhile, the unexpected sideshow treat, from our obliging black-suited mime artiste, has the entire company enthralled.
His routine was simple.
He waited under a tree for a suitable group or couple to pass. Then approaching from behind, he’d gesture with finger raised over his lips for one to keep quiet and pull to the side as he stepped in to take their place.
Linking arms with his new found and unsuspecting partner as he or she continued to chatter away, he’d walk with them until they realised they been hooked up to a total stranger.

Candid Camera

The startled look on their shocked faces and desperate efforts to un-couple themselves, kept us entertained. It was like watching Candid Camera “live”.
We got hooked up too, with a party of the Flemish traders who were quite content to talk in English for our benefit. When they learned that we were fanatical about junk in all its various forms, we were all “talking the same language”.
The bric-a-brac grapevine lets enthusiasts from all over Europe know that this is one to mark in the calendar months in advance.
These are the middle men who handle other people’s cast-offs. Most towns in Belgium have their weekly flea market. It’s a way of life for the entire community to enjoy.
This is Europe’s living theatre of junk. Those who need a big fix, appreciate the event as a spectacle to savour. You jump in and wallow in it.
The previous night, some of the more enthusiastic dealers – ranging from skip scavengers to house clearance experts – had already laid out boxes and tarpaulins to claim the pitch of their choice many hours before business would commence.