The petanquistes dinner dance was a lively affair. A hundred or so diners crammed into the Village Hall for Foie Gras, Toulouse sausage and ice cream. The teenage garagiste and three of his mates provided live music. What the teenagers lacked in skill they compensated for in enthusiasm. The music finished at five. Angus drifted in and out of sleep as the arrhythmic bass beat drifted across the village green to The Rickety Old Farmhouse.
Bob woke as the last revellers departed. The slamming of car doors, revving of engines and beeping of horns told him there was something going on. He kindly alerted us to this fact by emitting a PON howl.
The finals of the petanque competition are due to be held this ( Sunday ) afternoon. Heaven alone knows what state the petanque players will be in.