Parched

I had a colourful day today, but all I have for you is this photo of dry grass. Made slightly more interesting by also being a view of the plot of land that is not yet ours.

The day got off to a cracking start -- the Fiat wouldn't start. Luckily S found this out quite early when he tried to go to Fabrezan to buy some supplies for his weekend walking trip. Why did it happen on a rare weekend when we need both cars? But luckily I'd already arranged to car-share to Narbonne with G. We'd arranged to meet in Fabrezan, so S could drop me there before he left in Bruno the Peugeot, and I quickly Whatsapped G to ask her to drop me home at the end of the day.

After a very early lunch it was a long, hot afternoon in Narbonne. We had half an hour from 1:30 pm to do a quick warm up (euphemism, we were dripping with sweat after half an hour's singing). Then we got changed into our black clothes and listened to the concerts by the other choirs -- we got about half an hour each. The room was stiflingly hot, even with the door open.

We had the last slot, and it went surprisingly well, given the heat, yesterday's less than convincing rehearsal and our reduced numbers (this concert was an optional extra outside our usual programme, so we were down by about 20). In fact it was as good a performance of the Poulenc as we've ever done, and Florence was happy. I think we were probably partly motivated by Fleur d'Espine, the choir immediately before us, being so excellent.

What a relief to get outdoors -- it was blazing hot out there too, but at least there was a bit of a breeze. Groups of us wandered down the Barques for much needed ice creams, and then returned for the final concert, by professional choir Les Eléments. 

What can I say, they are on a different planet from us. The concert was a range of ancient and modern, sacred and profane music from both sides of the Pyrenees, all a capella. Some of the pieces were extremely challenging, notably Temps de Neige by contemporary composer Claire-Mélanie Sinnhuber. Each member of the choir turned out to have their own tuning fork, which they repeatedly used throughout the piece in order to find their next note ... the piece was wildly unpredictable, cacophonous at times, and not very user-friendly. I can't say I was terribly keen on it, but the final piece they did, Roncesvalles, by Joby Talbot, was complex but still harmonic and accessible. They got a standing ovation, and since half the audience was composed of choral singers they did a jolly audience participation encore of an Occitan carol, La cambo me fai mau. It was well worth staying for. I eventually got home shortly after 9, at which point the car was still saying it was 35C. As soon as I got back I drank about a litre of various liquids, ranging from water to non-alcoholic beer.  Meanwhile S is camping in the Pyrenees, but it's nearly as hot there as it is here.