WhatADifferenceADayMakes

By Veronica

Goulamas'K

... again! We met them disguised as insects last weekend. This time they were in their rock band formation -- exactly the same people but playing slightly different music.

After a lunchtime barbecue in the garden and a bit of sunbathing, we decided to go to Coursan for the annual Fête du Parti Communiste, which is the highlight of Coursan's year. It's been going for decades, but we've never been, and we had the impression we were missing something big.

We weren't. First we couldn't find it. I asked directions from a man standing on his doorstep who turned out to be English and scuttled off in shock when I addressed him in French. "Don't mind him, he only speaks English," explained a friendly neighbour, who then gave us directions. When we got there it turned out to be a few beer tents in a field. There were fewer people there than there are for the annual Journée Terroir in our much smaller village. The sole activities available were drinking beer or wine, and eating chicken wings, chips, and pancakes. However Goulamas'K were on stage surrounded by a pogoing group of fans, so we listened to them while we drank beer and ate chips. We'd planned to stay longer, but once Goulamas'K finished their set it wasn't quite compelling enough, or warm enough, to hang around waiting for the next act to show up. So we went home. Ho hum.

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