Nicholas Reyes? Name ring any bells? He is the lead singer for the internationally known music group The Gypsi Kings. One Friday evening we were privy to an unexpected private concert — Nicholas playing guitar and singing one of my favorite songs seated in a restaurant at the next table.
The restaurant is Braumelle, quite well known in la Camargue. Nicholas, Andre, Bic and several other band members were there having dinner with family and friends on a Friday night in May after the great Gypsi pilgrimage to Les Saintes Maries de la Mer for the fete of Saint Sarah.
As usual, other musicians were playing there and someone passed a guitar to Nicholas. He gladly played a few tunes.
And later that evening I had the opportunity to speak with him. What a rare treat!
This was just moments after one of his buddies told a good old spanish joke. He used the Catalan word for bull, which I don’t recall, and said when a big, beautiful Catalan woman walks by a man should greet her with belle toro–basically meaning beautiful bull. You must understand, the Catalans in southern France love bull fights almost as much as they love music.
A few minutes after the joke was told another member of Nicholas’ party walked by. Someone decided to try the phrase out on her. She just smiled. I guess she had heard that joke before.
It was dark in the restaurant so the video is not the best quality; but you get the idea: Nicholas Reyes playing and singing impromptu while I’m enjoying a tasty French dinner.
Vivre la France!
And yet another birthday party in France. This one started at noon on a Sunday, and I finally convinced my French husband to leave at 2 a.m. The party wasn’t finished.
We ate twice: once at lunch and then another full meal later that evening. There were the usual guitars and musicians. All of the neighbors were invited.
After dinner the party moved indoors, and the last thing I remember before falling asleep on the sofa was everyone dancing to French disco CDs.
You just gotta love the French!
They celebrate birthdays, religious holidays, secular holidays, history, new friends, old friends, festivals, house-warmings, bull fights, music, food, wine, agriculture (as in the Festival du Riz). And when they don’t have something to celebrate, they celebrate life.
The French in France remind me of the French in Louisiana: Mardi Gras, crawfish festival, strawberry festivals, BBQ, hot sauce, catfish, jazz, zydeco, pirates, shrimp, ducks, petroleum, swamp stomps, hot tamales, and yes, rice–just to name a few. And like their French ancestors, they go all out with lots of food, music, dancing, and reveling.
The French take joie de vivre seriously, whether throwing a birthday party or enjoying a cup of cafe’ with friends at those famous little outdoor spots. I’ve been to numerous wedding anniversaries, birthday parties (otherwise known in French as the anniversaire), and just plain old dinner parties (although there’s nothing plain about them).
One of my favorites are French birthday parties. You don’t have to be celebrating a big “O” to have a big party in France. Another year of life is worth an all-out soiree’.
I’ve yet to see a birthday cake, and gifts seem to be optional. It’s just another reason to celebrate. Food, and lots of it, is always on the agenda, as well as plenty of wine.
These fetes draw quite a crowd. The average birthday party, of those I’ve attended, runs 20-30 people. And they rarely end before 2 a.m.
So what do all those joyous French people do for all those hours?
Eat, drink and be merry. They should have invented the phrase.
Music and dancing are the entertainment. At least in the area where I live, the music usually consists of live entertainment–sometimes hired, but usually performed by invited guests, family, friends. Guitars, drums and accordions are popular instruments of choice. In the area of La Camargue, the music is often of the gypsi variety (made famous by local residents, The Gypsi Kings).
The photos you see here are typical of a birthday party. These were taken at the family home (built in the 1600s) of my husband’s cousin. She was celebrating 50 years of life and the party lasted nearly two days. It started Saturday night. Everyone spent the night and recommenced the next day at lunch (leftovers).
I’m throwing a French anniversaire party this evening for my American friend (visiting from Virginia) and my husband. On the menu: olives and pâté, melon, fresh catch fish and crawfish, fromage (three varieties), and petit suisse with blueberry sauce.
And, of course, wine and lots of music.
I’m fascinated by volets in France, what we Americans call “shutters.” In the States they are stationary, ornamental additions to houses. In France you can actually open and close the shutters.
I love getting up in the morning and throwing open the volets. (Forgive my romantic imagery.) It’s like a statement that says, good morning, I’m ready to start my day.
Besides the fact that I find them charming, volets in France are practical.
Today it’s raining and the infamous “mistral” (wind storm) has arrived. Mon amour quickly closed the volets. You see, in France you can actually close the shutters, you know, like in the movie “Gone with the Wind.” The shutters keep the rain from beating against the windows and keep the wind from breaking them.
Shutters also keep out the cold air. When you don’t have double-paned glass, as in most of these old French homes, shutters serve as insulation. I’ve been grateful for our volets on many a cold and windy day.
Probably my favorite practical use of the volets is to keep out the sun. Every night before we go to bed we close the shutters. In the morning I can sleep in the darkness until I’m ready to get up. Of course, sometimes I sleep later than I should; but on weekends I love sleeping in and not having the morning sun tell me it’s time to get up.
In summer the volets keep out the sun and heat. I love a sunny home with lots of windows, but again, in an old French home with no central air conditioning, the volets offer a welcome reprieve from the hot sun that beats down in summer in the South of France.
So if you decide to spend your holiday in the South of France, make good use of the volets. You can sleep in, and then throw open the volets when you’re ready to greet the day.