The final day of the petanque tournament. Scores of visitors descend on our little corner of paradise. After lunch Angus is told to go out and socialize. He doesn't recognize anyone apart from the Belgian lady who ( against all planning regulations ) has converted the garage by the town hall into a bijoux retreat. The Belgian lady has a ferociously bad tempered Pekingese that tries to disrupt the nearest petanque game. The Pekingese gets sworn at. Angus leaves.
Seven o'clock. Time to dismantle the beer tent. A shout of '' Lads ! There's another keg here that we'll need to finish off " echoes from outside the Salle des Fetes. The dismantling is a lengthy process that has not been completed by the time the 'gala' dinner starts.
Last night it was Crazy Ed. Tonight it's 'Wilbur' , a gentleman in his forties wearing a blue ruched sparkly satin shirt, black flares and red patent leather shoes. He, and the two young ladies in blue sequined tank tops and black leggings, start their 'La Fievre du Dimanche Soir' performance at ten. By this stage of the evening the local farmers are in a 'tired and emotional' state. Wilbur wisely sticks to smoochy ballads. The local farmers join in, enthusiastically. Their wives look unimpressed.
And here , for those who remember the early 80's, is a flavour of Wilbur's repertoire , http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=95QoDc_obN8