Thursday, June 16, 2016
Ten minutes before the concert starts the musicians head out of the gate. They are followed along the lane by the French teacher and the Parisian lady.
There are forty people in the church when the musicians arrive.
At 6.30 another ninety folk show up. More chairs have to be brought over from the Salle des Fetes. These are set out, irregularly, in the nave. Monsieur Bozo, the drainage engineer, his wife and the extended Bozo clan, are among the late arrivals. Everyone stands up and kisses the new arrivals.
The little lady with the purple hat who is handling ticket sales from the plastic table by the porch door finds taking the money and handing out the programmes to be one challenge too many. The mayors wife is called on to help.
Half an hour after the published start time the concert begins. The mayors inaudible words of introduction drowned out by the seven pm bells. Madame Bay, dressed in what from a distance might be mistaken for shiny silk turqoise pyjamas, makes a late entrance. Tonight she is accessorized with white high heels and a pair of glittery spectacles with enormous frames. Lest anyone be in any doubt that this is a 'sophisticated' evening Sandrine, Madame Bays hairdresser daughter, has dyed her mothers hair blueish-green to match the pyjamas.
Bob watches the comings and goings from his stump seat. On our return Sophie, who has had to wait for dinner due to no less than seven encores, gives us a look that makes it abundantly clear we are uncaring dog owners.