I would never go on holiday to France and come back with a pig. But I’ll admit I was tempted | Zoe Williams

The animal was no bigger than a pug and, when you scratched it, lay on its side and snorted with joy. Who could ask for more? I went to a market recently in the Cévennes, in southern France. It was piled high with things that in principle I’m interested in, but wouldn’t want to own – giant Victorian scissors, tomatoes in the shape of a heart, 70s airline trays, carafe after carafe for the distribution of Ricard, art deco atomisers and vintage cycling tops. It wasn’t purpose-built entertainmen...

By Zoe Williams