It was our anniversary on Thursday, so how to mark it? We enjoyed a leisurely lunch at Le Moulin restaurant, on the banks of the Aveyron, a short stroll from our house. And Bruno, the dog came too. He likes to lie under the table, especially fretwork ones with holes in, so that he can benefit from any manna from heaven coming his way.
Tourist season in French villages means there are local fetes everywhere. As there was an Occitan-dance listed in nearby Negrepelisse, we and two visiting friends decided to go. Occitan is a dialect linking Spain with France. In fact, the Languedoc region is named after it (Lange means language, so 'Language of Oc'), and some car reg. plates display the letters OC. We arrived to find the usual French lack of commercialism. We parked where we liked. No yellow lines, nor car parking attendant. No admission charge, and no ice-cream stalls or similar. The music was a cross between English, Scottish and Irish, and the dancing merged the old country dancing we all did at school with barn dancing and lots of stamping of feet. Great fun, even though in the dance which started with a circle, with partners moving around, Him indoors found himself partner-less halfway through, with another single individual on the other side of the circle! Good excuse for a drink.