Chestnuts at dawn

I attended another annual event this weekend. A chestnut festival. Last year as well as munching on chestnuts there was a group of storytellers to provide the entertainment, this year it was a group of 9 French female "Country" dancers. Line dancers to you and me.
When I arrived the dancers were already ensconced at a table, kitted out in their cowboy hats, boots, scarves etc. They were keen.
Last year the venue was full, with kids running about all over the place. This year the crowd was at least halved, but the 3 children who did attend, ran about non-stop for the duration of their stay.
We started with the roasted chestnuts, which were nowhere near as nice as the ones that we ate last year. This year they were dry, some were bad, and some had dead bugs inside them. In addition to the roasted nuts, there were boiled chestnuts. These were difficult to open and even more difficult to eat. The flesh of the nut was reduced to a white paste. Yuck! not to my taste.
There were pancakes and various drinks that you could buy, and there was also a plastic cup of mulled wine for the adults.
The dancers were very keen and after dancing to several of their pre-recorded songs they invited people to join in. I managed to stay in my seat. Having been a "Square dancer" for a year in the mid 90's I know to look down on this inferior form of dancing.
I left at about 10 past midnight, but the dancers were still going strong to their selection of about 10 songs and some local ados had arrived to bulk up the dwindling numbers.
Here is a short video of the dancing, The teeny-tiny lady in the white trousers is the school and town hall cleaner and although she was struggling to keep up, she was having a whale of a time. Good on you Z!

Dancing Queen

The fete was due to continue at 9pm with a procession with majorettes, old cars, marching bands etc but it had been raining almost all day. What to do? I put on my pac-a-mac, slung my camera round my neck and set off into town. Rigsby is not afraid of rain.
As I neared the centre of town I knew that something was wrong. There was traffic coming towards me. Usually the road is blocked off to allow the procession to take place.
It was raining quite heavily as I arrived at the Halle. I sat at a table and drank a couple of beers while some of the bands played under cover of the Halle's new roof.
Finally it was time for l'orchestre Mission to take the stage.
Yesterday there had been a little old lady dancing to the music with the whole floor to herself. She was back again. As the music began a shuffling figure complete with her shopping trolley and clutching a band publicity sheet. She was hot to trot once again.

Dancing with your shopping trolley can be tiring, luckily the wheels makes the transition turns quite smooth.
However she got tired of trundling it about and attempted to park it behind the security barrier, through a convenient gap, which was just not big enough for her to squeeze it through. The lead guitarist was watching her as she switched to plan B and started trying to lift the trolley over the barrier. He gave up playing and came to assist her.

She decided that her dance partner would be safer on the stage, so this is where it ended up.

Now unencumbered, she was able to shuffle about and wave her arms, she even shouted noises into the proffered microphone from time to time
Finally, just like a scene from Mama Mia she was hoisted up onto the stage to join in the band's final song.

So a very successful night for the dancing queen. Thankfully France is full of characters. (and I should know, I'm one!)

Meanwhile the rain was hammering down. The band stopped at 1.30am but the rain didn't so Rigsby paddled home in his new shoes.

Outdoor fireworks

On Friday night at 22:10 I set off walking into town to claim my usual spot to watch the firework display from. The pavements on both sides of the roads had cars parked on them, leaving only the road to walk on. The French tend to park anywhere that there is, or isn't a space.
The display began a few minutes late, which is good for this part of the world, where usually at least a quarter of an hour Ariege lag is added.
It was a perfect evening and the thunder storm rumbling in the distance held off until the early hours of the morning.  
We only have a population of 10,000 but no expense seems to be spared for the annual fete fireworks.
The display was 17 minutes long and it was made up of 14 or so different tableaux. The usual section of fire dripping down the castle walls was not included this year, but the display was as spectacular as ever, with hearts, arrows going through hearts, I am sure that I saw the letter J inside a heart or a circle. All very clever and greatly appreciated by the crowds, lots of "putain"s of admiration.
Here is a video of the finale.

After the display I wandered up to see the fun fair which has taken over all the parking areas in the centre of town. The crowd was too dense to make any progress, so I crossed the main road, weaving between the gridlocked cars, and went to watch the "orchestre" which had wisely been set up under the roofed Halle au Grains. As usual, the musicians and the various singers were very good.
Enough blogging for today. I must get my guitar out and play, or rather, practice. My finger tips are still burning and I am finding out that it is not going to be as easy to learn as I had hoped. Perhaps if I had a music stand....

Ticking away to the big bang

My 2 month summer holiday is nearly over and on Thursday or Friday I will be going back to school, or rather schools. My directrice telephoned me this morning at 9.30am. She phoned the College at 9am and was lucky enough to have the phone answered.
She has found out that 10 of my admin assistant hours will be spent at her school until my contract ends 31 march 2011. My directrice told the lady about the letter that I had received from the college, inviting me to attend a meeting at the College on Thursday morning.
"Why did they send him that letter? This meeting doesn't concern him. But as he has received the letter, he had better attend."
So I am teed up to look a complete plonker on Thursday. My directrice asked which school I would be spending my other 10 hours in. However the Inspectors have not yet decided. Still 2 days is plenty of time, if they send out a letter first class today or tomorrow......
The weather has been good for the last few days, but rain clouds are on the horizon.
The town's annual fete starts on Friday evening with live music and of course the highlight of the year, the 17 minute firework display which is due to kick off at 20:30. and which is well worth coming to see.
I expect that all 4 of my  readers will be dropping in to visit me for the weekend.  Don't forget that the fig festival is on the first weekend in October in a town only 20 minutes away.
A bientot alors.

VIsitors 6 Summer festival

My visitors returned from the coast in time for the start of the town’s summer festival.

We set off into town and watched the start of the Paul orchestra on the stage in the town centre, before heading off into the medieval centre to watch the firework display.

The Canadians were thinking, small town, probably a few Catherine wheels and a couple of rockets.....
The display went on for 20-25 minutes and was in 3 sections. It was much more ambitious than the previous 3 years and there was a new pattern firework in addition to the heart shape pattern of the previous year. There were also fireworks that exploded much higher than previous years.
My favourite vantage point is quite close to the castle which is perched on the rocky hill.
The trajectory of some of the fireworks meant that they must surely fall on top of us, but we were unscathed by the end of the display. We could see sparks bounding off the roofs of the buildings next to us, but none of the bits of shell casing that we found on our way back into town along our route hit us.
J and I were impressed.
We went to the square to watch the Paul Selmer band. They weren’t as tight as they had been last year. I disappeared (that’s not I as in me) to take photos and once he returned we headed homeward.

The evening ended on a sad note. At 2.30am a couple in their late 50’ early 60’s and who were walking home along the pavement (house next to the light blue one, J and I will know the one I mean), when a 25 year old coming into town too fast, as most drivers seem to do, lost control of his car on the bend and ploughed into them, killing them instantly. The young gentleman (from Toulouse) concerned had had a row with his girlfriend who had told him that he was too drunk to drive. He had set off in the car with a mate (who was asleep on the back seat at the time of the accident), and misjudged the bend versus his speed........

This was not the first time that the young man had been caught for drunk driving. Rumour has it that he had no valid licence, probably not even insured.

The papers were expecting him to get at least 10 years. He was tried very quickly, given five years, reduced to 3 years.. You have to understand that he was in a fragile state at the time of the accident, his girlfriend is expecting their child etc..... I believe that the victim’s family are to appeal against the lightness of the sentence.

The youth is said to be upset that he caused the two deaths the poor wee lamb.... Go figure! It’s not just British justice that is barking mad.

Festival of Figs – Mas D’Azil

I was invited by the French family to pay a visit to the above named event. So on Saturday afternoon we set off to the medieval town, winding our way through countryside that is beginning to show the first signs of autumn, following the river which I told you in an earlier post this year takes you through the huge Megalithic portal where ancient peoples lived out their lives, before you pop out again into the sunshine and the beginning of the village.
We parked half on the pavement as many French are wont to do.
Walking into town we passed the warehouse where an eccentric man has his fabuloscope. A collection of his hand made moving sculptures, which I have yet to visit.
There was a new building which is probably related to childcare as it has this rather swish play area and mini-amphitheatre outside. The sides of the building are made from wood panels and I dare say that it is an ecological wonder.

The village square and some other areas had brightly decorated stalls selling a variety of goods. Hand-made hats, wooden furniture, wooden toys, items made from varnished gourds, jewellery, leather goods, mirrors etc etc You could even buy yourself a bow or crossbow and arrows.

Being a festival of figs, there were also stalls selling wines, cheeses, breads, cacaoettes, a flat cake made with maize which looked unappetizing but which is a local speciality. No I didn’t note the name of it I’m afraid, but it is probably called something like mais, I wouldn’t be surprised.
It was warm and sunny, and not too crowded. There was a stall related to the truffle association and a stall where cauldrons (the witches amongst you take note) of fig jam, complete with whole figs, bubbled away.

Later on in the afternoon when we passed by again, the jam was being ladled into glass jars via a siphon ready for immediate purchase. I didn’t see any prices, but at these fairs, “real” food is expensive.
I bought a bottle of sweet white aperitif wine 10.50 euros from the owners of the Domaine Montaut near Pau. It has a very distinctive taste. They don’t pick their grapes until November every year!!! And the grapes are picked by hand, although I suspect that there is more than one hand involved

www.vins-jurancon.fr

There was a wandering band, playing their cornemuses (little bagpipes)

Another group in Catalan? Costume were putting on a dance display and had their own fearsome band.

The festival had a Spanish flavour and there was also a display of flamenco dancing on a makeshift stage outside the church door. This was not a great success however due to microphone trouble. The singing and music would cut out for longish periods due to faulty electrics. A shame for them as they struggled gamefully on.

There was entertainment for the children although we only saw one thing. A circus. This was really some kind of puppet show. Two people played instruments whilst dangling in front of them, their puppet also appeared to play too. It must have been magic.

Here is a behind the scenes view. You see? Smoke and mirrors. Thank God Derren Brown has not yet discovered this kind of technology.

Town festival

The castle with a new turret decoration and the moon. What more could you ask for. Who said "a job"?

The answer is of course, impossibly slim women in tight fitting, skimpy outfits, but of course you can't expect everything.

Welcome to a week's worth of blog entertainment. More of a magazine really.

After the beach holiday it was the town’s festival weekend or more exactly 4 days of fun.
Once again all the town centre carparks were off limits as the travelling fair with its rides, amusements and snack shacks took over. The top car park became a bar and stage area. The Halle au grains also gained a performance stage.
The first evening was the fireworks display, which centred round the castle. We met up with the French family, or rather the mother and the two younger girls. The oldest girl was ill in bed with a bad case of angine. She then went on to get a ruptured apendicitus and was in hospital for a few weeks. She is back home now, but is stick thin. Still these 12 year olds soon bounce back.
Forsaking their usual distant vantage point they joined us up close to the castle. The fireworks lasted about 20 minutes and featured star shapes and heart shapes exploding from the rockets. We then walked into the centre of town for a look at the fair. The place was too packed to move, so we stood and watched two people at a time being catapulted into the air in a small round pod, attached to a frame with bungee ropes.
Next we headed off to the stage to see what the evenings “orchestra” was like. These orchestras must tour France during the summer visiting town fairs. They consist of around 18 people. The band, dancers, singer, singers who also dance, musicians who play and sing etc. The costume changes are numerous and no short, dumpy women, or men appear on the stage. Locals then, they ain’t.
I like to get close the stage. Unfortunately this is also where you tend to get what in unenlightened times would have been called the village idiots. They are a bit of a nuisance but they know how to have a good time, and wrapped in their own private concert they can cover reasonable distances in any random direction.
Tonight was quiet though and the few dispossessed were wobbling about on the spot.
There was a stocky, smallish male singer on stage,

more Freddy Starr than Johnny Halliday, posing and preening on stage. Just smell that "old spice". The family held back as S and I moved forward to worship at his feet. (yeah right). I turned back and motioned them forward. “Are you not scared?” asked the mother, clutching her children to her. I said that I wasn’t and that it was all okay. So we ended up 20 feet or so from the stage. The girls refused to take their hands out of their pockets to clap along and stood very still. Their mother did some intermittent clapping. After 20 minutes the mother had had enough and she left, taking at least one reluctant child with her.
I later found out that she doesn’t like concerts, not that she has ever been to a proper music concert. Shame for the kids though.
We stayed for 40 or so minutes after they had gone. Standing up after midnight can be a strain for us oldies.
We went to see several of the concerts on the following evenings. There was a band singing English/ American songs badly so we did not stop. The following evening there was another mega cast orchestra and they were very slick. But the disposessed were more active. Of course when there are 18 in the group, introductions take longer and when their details include whether or not they are single and that they are music teachers at music schools and have come up through the conservatoire de musique system. (no that does not mean they have speakers in their conservatories at home).

There was also a flaming torch procession one evening. If you were expecting flaming torches however, you would have been disappointed. It was a carnival type procession. Majorettes with glowing batons, marching bands, etc. It went on and on as they did at least 2 big circuits of the centre of town, very slowly. I doubt if many were locals. Towns seem to bus in the entertainment from elsewhere for such things.
Some of the bands had devised clever transport for their drum kits.

There was a small group of about 9 peasants clutching lighted torches, but they looked bored and miserable, so not quite the expected highlight of the evening. I'll call them Les and his miserables.

Still at least the town does try to entertain us and the tourists during the summer, even if they remove car parking for the duration…..

Well that's almost it from this bumper edition. What do you mean "Thank f**k he didn't go and see the world famous trumpet player, or we wouldn't get to bed tonight "??!!!

8 Sept 2008 Monday – Last fair day

We go to see the aperitif concert. This time is a man called Michel Pruvot and his orchestra. The publicity said that we were lucky to have him in our Department, and so we were. He is an accordionist and also does the lead vocals backed by two women (each with a tambourine). and his band. There are some “serious dancers” already dancing to recorded music, when we arrive. It seems to be a greek style line dance, with 3 couples. The lady on the right end, totters on her shoes and always seems to be going in the opposite direction to the others. I am sure that there is a technical explaination for this. She can be seen in the video in the background, wearing a black dress and black clumpy shoes.

The singer is sponsored by some TV channel and we also get flyers for some dance holidays that he will be playing at, including one on a cruise ship, handed out to us. There is also a competition of sorts where you have to put your name, address and the title of the next tune that you would like them to play. There are lots of prizes to be won, including an accordion. Eventually our bits of paper are collected up but the entertainment ends without any prizes being given out. Perhaps that is done at the bal tonight. We never find out as we do not return for the 10pm kickoff.
We sit at a table and drink a beer each to celebrate the end of the fete. We also eat the 12 deep fried doughy strips, called Churros, covered with sugar, that we have bought from one of the fair stalls (3 euros 50). The stall also sold Pommes d'amour, which could well have been toffee apples?

7 Sept 2008 Sunday - Highland fling

Down to the Town hall courtyard for the woodwind orchestra concert. Once again the concert is inside to escape the loud noises outside. The chairs are all higgledy-piggelty and over half the seats are taken. The plant has been moved to the side of the room so there is a better view. Once again there are dogs in the audience and a sprinkling of small children. The children turn out to have the attention of gnats, and one family has to leave when it becomes obvious that their two little boys are not going to sit down or behave.
The orchestra plays a variety of tunes, two of which are by Ralph Vaug han Weeleams. There is also the sailors' hornpipe.
After the concert we head home to prepare for the evening show – The life of Julia. This promises comedy and music. Will it be a play?
We arrive half an hour early, and get a bench seat. The stage is wreathed in smoke. Perhaps they have had a small fire?
The performers take to the stage about 20 minutes later than advertised. Once again there is a brass section, guitarist, drums and keyboard. This is no play, but is really a musical review using the life of a girl called Julia from the age of 12 upwards. As a dancer she travels to many different parts of the world. This gives the female dancers in the troupe, the excuse to appear on stage in many different thongs and feathers, as well as in Russian costume and even what passes for highland dress.

We last out for over an hour before our backsides start to protest at the hardness of the seats. We leave Julia to finish her adventures and wander through the fair, before choosing a restaurant in the old town for something to eat.
I don’t know what it is about today but there is even more dogshit around than usual, and it smells particularly foul. We do not choose the restaurant with a huge, mega-whiffy crap adjacent to the outside tables.

After the meal, we head home and give the evening ball a miss again

2 Sept 2008 Tuesday – Carte Grise

Out early to collect my Carte Gris from the garage, then it is off to the nearby furniture, clothes, shoes, and DIY stores.
Then back for lunch.
Next it is in to town. The bread shop is still en siesta, so we wander round and go to my bank so that my account manager can take a copy of my carte gris for my car insurance policy. She has heard from my UK insurance company so all is well.
The town is getting ready for a big fete which will last several days. There will be a fair, music (choir performance included), entertainments, balls with aperitifs. The castle will be closed to the public on the 5th so that the fireworks can be prepared for the display later that evening.
There are a few big vans parked in the central parking area, but no sign of the delights that they contain. There is a small section of staged seating in another of the parking areas. Where is everyone going to park on the days of feasting?
Towns and villages round about also seem about to go into overdrive feastwise. Where to go, what to see?...

We have see fresh posters advertising the Doreen singer who didn’t show up last time. The venue is the same, only the time of performance is missing….
We stay in.