A vous de jouer

Setting the alarm for 7:15 as I went to bed at 1 a.m. I did wonder if it had been wise to sign up for a photo marathon in Narbonne today. But I somehow dragged myself out of bed and got there for sign-in at 8:30, grateful for the ample supplies of coffee and brioche provided.

The marathon works by giving the entrants a theme and one and a half hours to find a photo. Then you return, hand over your chosen photo, and get the next theme. There were three themes with a very long lunch break after the first two.

I have to say I was not fizzing with energy to hike around Narbonne looking for creative opportunities, so I was pretty lazy with the first theme, which was about the passage of time/history. A quick window and old stone blip.

Number two was bizarre: a line from Charles Trenet: "Qu'il est laid le débit de l'eau". I had difficulty even understanding what it meant. On consulting the lyric later I found that in context, débit means a shop, not flowing water. So the jury were no doubt mystified by my photo of a rose floating among dead leaves and fag-ends in the canal.

My swift execution of the challenges did leave me plenty of time for lunch and a lie down in the park, which were highly beneficial. The after-lunch theme was "A vous de jouer". A nearby square where a local association had laid out giant board games found itself suddenly besieged by photographers. This was my effort, the only marathon-related photo I was remotely satisfied with.

At the end of the afternoon there was yet more hanging around while the jury collated their opinions, and then they started a slide show of the entries from the 17 participants, with brief comments from the judges. I had to rush off at 5:30 to pick up T and get to Limoux for this evening's concert. So I missed almost all of it except for a disobliging comment about my window photo -- admittedly not the greatest ever. Which meant I had no regrets about not staying longer :) Here's a little album of photos from the day, not all of them on topic.

Oh, the concert. Sadly, here's my one-line review: 
Worst. Concert.Ever.

Young pianist Anthony had to kick off the programme accompanying us in Fauré's Pavane. He was such a bag of nerves that he got totally stuck at one point and had to go back and pick up the thread. This wrecked his confidence, so he messed up his solo as well, which he'd played really well yesterday.

He probably didn't feel so bad once he heard us trying to sing Vaughan Williams' Toward the Unknown Region  though. It's difficult, but we do know it well. We proceeded to get into such a mess in the middle of it that no-one, including our conductor William, could work out how to get out of it. Martine the piano teacher has decades of experience accompanying choirs and even she had to give up trying to help us. We ground to an embarrassing halt and William had to instruct Martine where to pick up from. Embarrassing! We have never gone so wrong in a concert.

And then another hour's drive home ... back on the stroke of midnight having left the house before 8 a.m.