Friday July 16th.
We let the kids sleep and we go into Uzes for morning coffee and so that the sisters can see The Medieval Garden. I catch up with some work and we shop for lunch. I’m making a salad Nicoise since Nice is the next place the kids are going to. It’s a triumph. The tuna is gorgeous - the eggs just hard enough. The green beans are fresh and tiny, the black olives are marinated in hers and garlic and the potatoes are yellow and waxy. YUM. Beer and wine and a crusty loaf….it’s simple but perfect and we have Savarins de fruit for dessert. In OZ we call them Rhum babas and they are deliciously decadent. I know it will mess with my blood sugars but, oh God, it tastes soooo good.
Tension flares again when the afternoon plans seem to fall in a heap. Tony is annoyed that he’s missing The Tour de France and plans for him to take both oldies and youngies to the Pont Du gard and then come back to pick me up seem suddenly not to suit him. I stay home. There is to be a tapas food market and live music….but I would rather miss it than be eaten up with frustration.
At 7.30 they return…. The food stalls that were to have been operating from 6pm are only just being put up….the music hasn’t eventuated, and they’re all hot and exhausted. Worst of all, Margaret just isn’t up to the concert (or perhaps has had enough of B for the day.) We leave her to play gooseberry to Katie and Sam’s romantic evening. They’re great kids and don’t seem to mind too much.
Tony, B and I head for Ales and the big band concert - and the air conditioning isn’t the only thing chilling the car. But it’s a spectacular sunset with the sky a rosy gold and the hills looking like various shades of grey paper cut out and glued against the sky - a collage of Universal beauty. Just magic.
The concert starts at 9.30pm. The setting is spectacular….a wonderful 14th century building towering above the stage and auditorium in a beautiful park. The programme is a tribute to Glen Miller and Duke Ellington…. So how bad can it be? Well…. It’s MERDE, Merde, merde! So awful it’s funny. The band leader drones on from his notes on Glen Miller, clearly copied from Le Wikipedia! The instruments are out of tune with each other, the drummer can’t keep tempo so each number gets exponentially faster, and - with no clarinet lead and two AWFUL trombone players- the sound is nothing like Glenn Miller. But the piece de resistance is when “Henri” is introduced…. A chanseur with a tribute to Frank Sinatra….singing Billy Joel’s Just The Way You are in the style of Elvis Presley!!! WTF????? This isn’t just bad- it is gobsmackingly, hilariously AWFUL and we are in hysterics, trying to hide muffled laughter. It’s clear Henri has attempted to learn the lyrics in English from the record, without having a clue what they mean. Coupled with the Elvis impersonation, it’s difficult to interpret what he’s singing….but these are some of the words we heard
Dumbo chain ring, tribal pee pee
Mumble mumble darn de floor.
Tony reaches for my hand and pulls my head down into his shoulder to muffle my laughter….B has turned her hearing aids OFF - and we desperately look for ways to get out. But not before we are treated to an Andrews sisters medley sung by Natalie and Henri - in which they implore “Buy beer, Mister Shane”.
That’s it!!! We scramble past the legs of people, knocking chairs as we go, and get out before the end….The Duke Ellington tribute never eventuates ( thank God) and as we reach the car we can hear that the band has moved on to decimate Perez Prado and the crowd is loving it!!!
When we get home we discover Margaret got a second wind and has been playing cards with the kids and drinking champagne and has only just gone to bed. Katie and Sam are happily playing blackjack, B disappears muttering to herself, and I go to bed and sleep in Beloved’s arms once more.
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