I have just got round to putting the final mud pictures on, since Viki thought the blog finished abruptly & she thought we were still in a mess. ( Leave comments, Vik; however am I going to get the notoriety of the 'myboyfriendisatwat' woman otherwise? Or the publishing deal?) Well of course we are still in a mess, this place is huge & ancient, but the grass has grown & the potager is restored. I will post prettier pics soon, but include the final one as it shows the famous pile of rocks, viewed by all visitors who had read about it in earlier Round Robins with gasps of mingled admiration & horror. We truly have dug them & heaved them ourselves, (yes, this is pretty much a royal we but I did do some,) and now the pile is a haunt of lizards.
On July 20th we gave ourselves a break & took a trip to the Vendée with the French class above mine. Marie-Christine has got it into her head that I am a person of culture & despite my absolute refusal to join her 'Civilisations' group to discuss history & politics, ( my French truly isn't up to it,), I am often included in their jollies.
I have to say this person of culture raised an eyebrow at the chosen venue, a sort of historical theme park with grand staged 'Spectacles' instead of rides, called Parc du Grand Fou.
We watched a cod rehash of Gladiator in an impressive amphitheatre & moved on to the Viking village. After happy bronze age people frolicked free of hunger, syphilis or bad dentistry, the V's arrived. One longboat sailed impressively round a bend in the river, (the settings for the spectacles were just that, spectacular,) but then one appeared to slide down a hill rather than round it & another rose from beneath the water. Marie-Christine must have heard Paul murmur in my ear,
"Hmmm, I never knew the Vikings had invented the submarine..", for as we all wandered off to watch 'Falcons Les Phantomes' (this won't let me do an ascii 'o' with a hat), she sidled up to me & said apologetically,
"I don't think this is quite your thing?!" with perfect 'ths'.
However, the Falcon thing was quite stunning, we had never seen so many birds of prey together, including huge vultures & eagles who were set loose from a tethered balloon way up in the sky, & all set skimming above our heads by the handlers. It was jaw-dropping & well-worth the entrance fee & bad food, all on its own.
I'm being unfair; the point of the visit was the evening show, a 'Cinescenie' which is the biggest Son et Lumiere in the world, ( I know, accents, it won't work today,) & this was quite stupendous; I would gladly travel back to see it all again.
We climbed up the side of what felt like a roller coaster, through an entrance hall like the NEC & emerged high up on an enormous grandstand, seating about 10,000 people, over-looking an outdoor 'stage' at least 1/2 a kilometre across. As Darkness fell, we took in the details: a huge lake, behind it a chateau, around were spread woods, a village, lanes, grassy swards, bridges, hovels & distant windmills. The spectacle began as a lone figure with a lantern walked around the setting while a voice set the scene; we were going to see the history of the Vendée. For 2 hours, despite the cold, we watched a cast of 1-2,000 actors, 24 horses, stunning light effects enact a history full of struggle & war. Wonderful set piece followed wonderful set piece, I abandoned my camera.
The finale was optimistic, even a little triumphal, & then the fireworks began. Only a week earlier I'd thought I'd seen the best fireworks ever, but these were even more amazing, they filled the night sky with light & flaming colours, burst after burst, around me everybody gasped, laughed, cheered, one lady wept. I have no pictures of this. If you're visiting the Vendée in the future, go, see.
Sunday, 26 August 2007
Saturday, 4 August 2007
Feux D'Artifices 1
I think I need the 'X' & the 'S', (anyway, there were lots of them, over 2 weekends.)
This is like homework: have I spelt it correctly? Gotta get it posted before we go back to the UK for 2 weeks...
To whom am I handing it in, though? Who is reading this, red pen in hand?
Anyway, the fireworks.
For years we came to France in the summer holidays, expecting to celebrate Bastille Day with cheering, merry French Republicans, but we must always have been in the wrong places. Campsites on the Loire & Ardèche, small villages, central squares in medieval towns were more deserted on the 14th July than normal. Where did the celebrating go on?
In 2005, we heard distant crackling & saw golden showers from our isolated garden, so in 2006 we headed for our local town. We had to queue to get in, at a crossing, as every child under 10 crossed in front of us, dressed in frills, pastels minature suits & ties, spotless socks, each carrying a candle lantern & accompanied by a proud adult, holding their hands as they progressed to the Chateau. There was a fairground set up in the centre, ( not a very big one as it isn't a very big centre.) Stalls full of gaudy gewgaws lined the streets, so we retreated down the steps to our favourite bar. I'm not sure why we prefer this place as we must double the average age, anyway, we got a drink & joined the groups standing in the road, looking up at the chateau waiting for the fireworks.
Well, there were 3. One was red. 2 were gold. Between them they created, oooh, 10 stars & 1 bang? We drank our drink. We went home, yes, waiting first for the 100+ children to cross back over the crossing. All that finery for 3 feu(x) d'Artifice(s) in 10 minutes! They didn't seem too disappointed, but I bloomin' was.
So when a friend from Bergerac said, 'Come to dinner & we'll walk to the old Port to watch the fireworks', I thought, 'Well, it will be nice to go to Bob's for dinner, anyway' And so it was. Afterwards we walked through a warm evening towards the Port. More & more people joined us. The streets were lined with cars, one wheel on the pavement, de rigeur parking but VERy politically incorrect, probably why they do it. When we got to the bridge, there were hundreds of people, excited, chattering, the children carrying those little multi-coloured flashing things that look like neon sparklers... Amazing! We settled on the cobbles of the Port, the place was packed. Before long the PA started, telling us that the Ville & Commune of Bergerac welcomed us to their celebration of le Quatorze, that the theme was 'cinema' & they wished everyone good luck for the coming twelvemonth.
With that began the most amazing firework display I have ever seen. We tried to 'spot the Movie' as clear, loud stereo sound blasted wonderful themes, from Gladiator to Brief Encounter, from James Bond to Top Hat, with perfectly choreographed & coloured rockets, starbursts, wheels, rains & shooting stars crackled & banged across the river. Wonderful.
And afterwards, several thousand people, with no marshalls & few Police in evidence, got themselves & their children from the port, along the narrow streets & alleyways of the old Town, to sit in delightful bars beneath plane trees & eat an ice-cream or drink a beer. A lovely evening, so civilised, so elegant, & I thought with sadness of what happens these days in English town centres....
(to be cont.)
This is like homework: have I spelt it correctly? Gotta get it posted before we go back to the UK for 2 weeks...
To whom am I handing it in, though? Who is reading this, red pen in hand?
Anyway, the fireworks.
For years we came to France in the summer holidays, expecting to celebrate Bastille Day with cheering, merry French Republicans, but we must always have been in the wrong places. Campsites on the Loire & Ardèche, small villages, central squares in medieval towns were more deserted on the 14th July than normal. Where did the celebrating go on?
In 2005, we heard distant crackling & saw golden showers from our isolated garden, so in 2006 we headed for our local town. We had to queue to get in, at a crossing, as every child under 10 crossed in front of us, dressed in frills, pastels minature suits & ties, spotless socks, each carrying a candle lantern & accompanied by a proud adult, holding their hands as they progressed to the Chateau. There was a fairground set up in the centre, ( not a very big one as it isn't a very big centre.) Stalls full of gaudy gewgaws lined the streets, so we retreated down the steps to our favourite bar. I'm not sure why we prefer this place as we must double the average age, anyway, we got a drink & joined the groups standing in the road, looking up at the chateau waiting for the fireworks.
Well, there were 3. One was red. 2 were gold. Between them they created, oooh, 10 stars & 1 bang? We drank our drink. We went home, yes, waiting first for the 100+ children to cross back over the crossing. All that finery for 3 feu(x) d'Artifice(s) in 10 minutes! They didn't seem too disappointed, but I bloomin' was.
So when a friend from Bergerac said, 'Come to dinner & we'll walk to the old Port to watch the fireworks', I thought, 'Well, it will be nice to go to Bob's for dinner, anyway' And so it was. Afterwards we walked through a warm evening towards the Port. More & more people joined us. The streets were lined with cars, one wheel on the pavement, de rigeur parking but VERy politically incorrect, probably why they do it. When we got to the bridge, there were hundreds of people, excited, chattering, the children carrying those little multi-coloured flashing things that look like neon sparklers... Amazing! We settled on the cobbles of the Port, the place was packed. Before long the PA started, telling us that the Ville & Commune of Bergerac welcomed us to their celebration of le Quatorze, that the theme was 'cinema' & they wished everyone good luck for the coming twelvemonth.
With that began the most amazing firework display I have ever seen. We tried to 'spot the Movie' as clear, loud stereo sound blasted wonderful themes, from Gladiator to Brief Encounter, from James Bond to Top Hat, with perfectly choreographed & coloured rockets, starbursts, wheels, rains & shooting stars crackled & banged across the river. Wonderful.
And afterwards, several thousand people, with no marshalls & few Police in evidence, got themselves & their children from the port, along the narrow streets & alleyways of the old Town, to sit in delightful bars beneath plane trees & eat an ice-cream or drink a beer. A lovely evening, so civilised, so elegant, & I thought with sadness of what happens these days in English town centres....
(to be cont.)
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