For several years now, my favorite microtouristic destination has been the Salon International de l’Agriculture, the enormous show that each spring brings the farmers of France together under the eight roofs of the Porte de Versailles convention center, accompanied by nearly four thousand of their bovine, ovine, caprine, porcine, equine, asinine, and canine companions. (The weight of the manure generated, almost three hundred tons, is equivalent to that of the steamship in “Fitzcarraldo.”) The Salon is about the bounty of la France profonde. Anything passably earthy goes. And, so, in addition to the éleveurs (animal farmers), there are agriculteurs (farmers in general), knife-makers, beekeepers, hot-tub venders, insurance agents, representatives of feed conglomerates, backhoe salesmen.

