“If you’re looking for an unemployed person, it’s him,” chuckles a man in fatigues. “Are you stupid or what? “, replies Allan Seux, 44 years old, Blues jersey, three children and holder of a CAP in landscaper. Around him are his aunt’s miniature dolphins, posters of unicorns, and recovered and refinished Formica furniture. But also small household appliances, won with his wife in the Nivernais lotteries. “I’ll make you this new crepe maker for 20 bucks. It’s worth double that. I have some Senseo in stock, if you’re interested. »
Sunday September 24, Allan is on his second garage sale. The first brought him 300 euros. “I also cut wood for my father-in-law, for a ticket. To pay the rent, fill the fridge and hope to return to the campsite next summer, we have to do our best. »
Gimouille, in Nièvre, 480 inhabitants, halfway between Nevers and the Magny-Cours circuit, is a peaceful village with a Romanesque church, pretty stone houses, a large decaying housing estate and an old gas depot classified as Seveso. The first bakery is 8 kilometers away. The car is essential. “We have buses that pass, but Gémoliens don’t use them and have never been attracted to carpooling. So when gasoline reaches 2 euros, they suffer,” says the mayor, Alain Bourcier, present from dawn to greet the first exhibitors.
“Out of 1,000 euros per month, I spend 300 on fuel”
Allan whispers: “I don’t have a license. My wife, yes, and she is the one who drives our children to their medical appointments every week. It’s sometimes in Nevers, often in Clermont-Ferrand, and then it takes the day. One is deaf, the other is diabetic and his insulin pump still causes us torment. »
Thanks to his Pôle emploi advisor, Allan will start training as a market gardener. Not that the sector is recruiting but… “As we have a large plot of land, we will be able to cultivate and eat properly. And then I’m going to take my fishing license”. Gimouille is also at the fish-rich confluence of the Loire and the Allier.
Silvia Dos Santos, 48, spread out crockery, Swiss army knives and religious objects in front of their gray Mercedes van. Her husband watches from the sidelines. At 57, this former operations director of a transport company is recovering from burn-out. “We had a shortage of drivers. I got yelled at all the time for that. It was becoming unbearable. » His wife is a carer for children with disabilities in Bourges, on a permanent contract, twenty-seven hours a week: “I earn almost 1,000 euros per month and I spend 300 on fuel. You realize ? The other day, I told one of my managers that he had a woman in front of him who was going to the solidarity grocery store and, clearly, he didn’t give a damn. »
You have 45.79% of this article left to read. The rest is reserved for subscribers.