In which Sid takes Doris to a Big Band Festival
Sid (being French-ly literate and articulate) is a keen reader of local papers, particularly about the affairs of the villages and small towns and very pleased to find a big band festival. Pertuis is just 32 kilometres from Rians down (get that?) a charming river valley.
The holiday riding is slightly marred by two pieces of reckless driving. In each case a hesitant driver spends some time behind us and traffic builds up. An impatient driver decides to overtake at the very moment the member of the hesitant tendency sees their chance. So we are now three abreast. Not a problem on a straight road. But each of these was into a blind bend on a narrow road. In both cases the oncoming car braked enough to save the body work of all concerned. This has not always been the case, judging by the number of pieces of body work in the ditches.
We are still looking for maps so Doris goes into Carrefour hypermarche. The picture is here to remind us of the small and near invisible shops in Bulgarian towns.
The hotel “Inter-Hotel Le Village Provencal” is on a trading estate and is built with blank walls to the outside, giving some dismay as we check in to it. Inside it is charming, with a pool and courtyard. We hole up with a pate en croute from the traiteur, working on navigation and resting up for the big banding.
We ride over to the Charite and put the bikes into the consigne. The event is all outdoors, the first band has its own stage, handy for the buvette and outdoor catering. Doris loves sausages, Doris loves beer. Merguez frites, biere pression SVP. [I am a cheap date – D – and by the way the tickets were only €10 each too.] We saw an ashtray and raised a glass to Sid’s father who loved jazz (ideally while smoking “stogies”, small cigarillos) and would have really enjoyed this event.
The first act is a five-part band featuring, mysteriously, Sheikh Mo from Dubai on trombone and Paul Smith from Southern Car Club on saxophone. What this really shows you is how hard your brain is always trying to match faces to memories. Usually followed by “and actually he looks nothing like Sheikh Mo”.
The main act, Bolden’s Buddies, a bigger band and more accomplished band, has another stage with raked and numbered seating. Unfortunately they have sold our ‘best seats in the house’ twice. No fuss, we are given two other seats. They are very good, playing Duke Ellington, Jelly Roll Morton and Fats Waller numbers. Lovely harmonies and dynamics. A dancing couple showed off their moves, and they were very good moves if distracting from the main event. It reminded us that social dancing at any opportunity is the French equivalent of the folk dancing we saw often earlier in the trip.
We biked home at 10.30 when Bolden’s Buddies took their break, with our ears full of music and heads full of a great evening. We’ve not stayed out so late for at least 86 days.