8th August 2008

Just realised today is a palindromic date: 888. Better than 666 anyway. It's Friday, so in this new life of ours, me and him indoors venture out to play petanque. We drive up through golden sunflower fields to the village of Verfeil, a journey of about 6 km - just up the road. Petanque is just the game for two creaking pensioners like us. Although the similar game of boules was introduced to France by the Romans afte the conquest of Gaul, petanque had an even stranger beginning. Legend has it that there was an old man called Jules le Noir who went out to play one day. Because he suffered from arthritis, he drew a small circle in the sand and played with both feet together on the ground - a pieds tanques, as it was spoken locally. Onlookers so sympathised with Jules and his painful bones that they too changed their normal one foot in front of the other stance to the pieds tanques as Jules did. And so petanque was born. Well, we thought, if he could do it.... What puzzled him indoors was the name for the coloured ball - apparently cornichon. Why do you need to throw a pickled cucumber? asked he innocently. No, no! came the exasperated reply. It's not un cornichon (cucumber) but un cochonnet (the tiny ball you aim for in the game). Ah! we said in unison. Such are the vagaries of learning the French language. Towards the end of the game, I preened myself to hear a local Frenchman apparently say to me: Ah, elle est belle. But I was somewhat discomforted to learn later that he was talking about the role of the ball, not about me! I obviously still have a lot to learn about the mysteries of le francais.