Friday mornings in Cassis turn the village square into a living thing - breathing, fragrant, full of color, sound and scent. It is market day in this harbor village.
I arrived empty-handed, basket swinging, not looking for anything in particular. That is the beauty of a Provençal market; the pleasure is in the wandering. A swirl of scent met me first…figs warmed by the sun, anchovies from a stall near the fountain, dried lavender in bunches tied with twine. Beyond the stalls, the masts in the harbor ticked softly against the wind. Cassis manages something rare: a market whose backdrop could be a painting.
I stopped at a stand tucked between the olive oil vendor and a woman selling linen dresses. His was a table scattered with vintage matchbox cars. The man behind it wore a straw hat that had seen better days. He picked one up, a small cream MGA, and turned it over in his hands with care, as if it were a delicate thing. My husband has an affection for classic cars, and that little model stopped me in my tracks.
“It’s from the sixties,” the man told me, his fingers tracing its lines. He spoke about these cars the way some people talk about family heirlooms, with tenderness, reverence. A row of tiny metal history lessons lay in front of him. “Each one has a story,” he said, and I believed him. I slipped the little MGA into my basket, nestled between a lemon tart and a bouquet of basil, and carried on.
The heart of the market is always the produce. The vegetable stands in Cassis look like they’ve been painted into place. Tomatoes glisten, zucchinis still dusted with the earth they grew in. There’s a particular light in Cassis that seems to make everything more vivid, as if the sea reflects it back and gilds the edges.
Markets like this are less about groceries than they are about gathering fragments of a place. A tomato is never just a tomato here, it’s from the farmer up in the hills, picked before sunrise. The cheese comes with a conversation, the linen with a shrug and a smile. By the time I reached the end of the stalls, the morning had given me much more than a few beautiful things to bring home.
By late morning, the crowd thickens and the sound swells…the voices of vendors blend with the sharp cry of gulls overhead and the occasional motorcycle weaving through the narrow streets. Along the harbor, the fishermen pull their boats directly up to port and unload their nets. The fish still flop around in the bins as they sell to the passersby. The sea glimmers just beyond, reminding you how close it is. Cassis is unusual in this way, the market doesn’t feel like an inland village fête; it breathes with the Mediterranean.
At the port, the café terraces are always humming. I found a table shaded by an awning in the port, set the basket at my feet, and ordered a coffee. From there, the scene unfolded easily: the last of the market stalls catching the breeze, people carrying flowers and straw bags, the cliff of Cap Canaille rising beyond the masts.
FIELD NOTES
When to Go: The market takes place every Friday morning, year-round. Arrive early, around 8:30am, before the village fills and the summer sun gets strong. By 11 a.m., the square is bustling.
Where: The market is centered on Place Baragnon, just a short stroll from the harbor. It spreads along shaded streets lined with plane trees, so there’s always a sliver of dappled light.
What to Look For:
- Seasonal produce — heirloom tomatoes, peaches, figs, fresh herbs, courgettes.
- Artisan goods — olive oils, soaps, baskets, linen clothing, straw hats.
- Vintage finds — the little stand with matchbox cars is easy to miss but worth the stop.
- Local flavors — tapenade, anchovies, fougasse, and tarts that taste of summer.
After the Market: Follow the slope down to the port. A terrace table at a café beneath the plane trees is the perfect place to watch the market slowly dissolve as the village slips toward lunchtime.
Insider Tip: Bring a basket or tote and wander without a list. The best things at the Cassis market are often the ones you didn’t plan to find.
