I was just one person out of two and a half million visitors who attended the flea market this weekend.This man is a Tuareg from Mali.  Nomadic Berbers, they roam the Sahara of North Africa.  I purchased two small leather boxes from him.Beautiful old linens which remind me of old houses, grandmothers and smells of camphor and lavender.I fell in love with these gorgeous paper weights with a jellyfish imprisoned inside.And every year I pay a visit to the Workers’ Struggle (Lutte Ouvrière) booth, France’s Communist-Trotskyist political party. They’re a friendly, feisty bunch.In Greece as in France, bankers and industrialists have benefited from the debt. It’s up to the capitalists to pay, not the workers!Competitiveness is to take from the pockets of the working class to enrich management. Out of the question!And right next door was the Socialist Party booth with members tucking into the traditional meal of mussels, fries and beer.And that’s it for another year!