The summer holidays can be something of a test of endurance for people who live alone in France; not only do most clubs close, but it’s often too hot to go out anyway. I know quite a few people who feel very isolated at this time of year. There are lots of village fêtes, but these are often just an excuse for binge drinking, so not interesting to go to alone.
Once Gemma, Chris and Elliott had left, I only had two weeks to survive before the patchwork, painting and book clubs would open again, but I was delighted when Beatrice called to ask if I fancied going to a village fête with her. She explained that it wasn’t an ordinary fête, there’d be lots of different, artistic acts to see, all performed by pairs of people, hence the name “Les paires des Landes”.
There were all sorts of acts, from “opera” with programmable ducks, to hilarious ghost stories, supposedly for children, but here, at least, I could understand every word. A couple of women danced with and around a cello and a violin and later, in the same space, two young men did an amazing gymnastics/acrobatics performance into which they managed to inject plenty of humour. What I think was a parody on a Moliere play proved more difficult for me to understand, but Beatrice wasn’t interested in it, and I was relieved when we didn’t stay long at that one. Later she went to watch some French cabaret, while I preferred to stay and listen to a jazz duo.
It was a good day out, worth the effort of getting there. The following week the cycle club held its annual ” journée vélo marche”, when they cycle to a location, then change from cycling to walking shoes, go for a walk and have a picnic, then cycle home. I met them at Gourbera, from where we did a lovely 10km walk through the forest, finishing at a picnic spot. There weren’t many participants, but everyone there made me feel very welcome, it was almost as though I’d never been away.
The next weekend, the band was booked to play at Trois Villes, Adrian’s village, but he was getting bad vibes about it and was worried that we might be as welcome as we were at Argelos, something none of us ever wants to repeat. Ade spoke to various people in the village and we took the decision to cancel. He went to the event and said he was sure we’d made the right decision, as many of the older villagers wouldn’t even tolerate French music being played over a sound system.
Last weekend, being the first weekend in September, was filled with “forums d’associations”; each town and village hosts one of these events, when each association, or club, is allotted a table, sometimes in a sports hall, sometimes in an outdoor public area, to inform the public of their existence and to try to boost membership. Most stands are filled with flyers and other stuff to demonstrate what the club is about. I helped man the stand of the painting club in St. Paul; our stall was rubbish to look at, as the president had forgotten to bring the banner, any cards or flyers, and had only brought one, very dark painting. I don’t know if we signed anyone up, but I found a Pilates class, thanks to the stall next door, that I’ll give a try.
In the afternoon I helped at the patchwork club stand in Seignosse; lots of quilts covered the table and a “grille” (can’t think of the name in English) behind it. A big improvement on the morning’s effort!
So now, “la rentrée”, (the reopening of the schools) is over, people are back at work and school, temperatures have dropped and it’s comfortable to go out in the daytime and sleep at night. Life has returned to its normal rhythm.
