It’s Our Fête!

Courier Countryside Column for 16 August

The settlement of Abeilhan in the Languedoc where we are spending the summer is officially a commune rather than a village. It’s a charming distinction, and communality is everywhere evident. People proudly sport T-shirts identifying their membership of the Committee des Fêtes. It’s an important role organizing the main four-day June festival with sports, meals, bars and bands, culminating in the great Abeilhan caisse à savon or soapbox race.   Clearly modeled on the Monaco Grand Prix, streets are closed to traffic, barriers erected, old tyres stacked up on hazardous bends and a selection of bizarre conveyances from wine barrels on wheels to a replica of Tintin’s moon rocket accelerate from the top by the Mairie down the narrow lanes to the finishing line past the Cave Co-operative.

            But this is only the start of the festivities. On the village saint’s day of St. Pierre, part of the population walk (or drive) the kilometre or so to the old chapel among the vineyards, which was used before the medieval church was built at the top of the town. There, trestle tables are set out with village wine and a meal for all.

            On Bastille Day (Quatorze Juillet) there’s another big communal feast followed by fireworks. Then there’s the Féria (we’re not that far from Spain). Fortunately no bulls are killed, but the young ones involved in Torro Piscine have a pretty shabby time being chided and prodded in and out of a glorified paddling pool. In late August, the Fête des Voisins brings together neighbours who contribute food and wine for a picnic under the stars.

            Obviously the balmy nights help. Village events in England tend to take place in the afternoon or under cover before the evening chill (or rain) sets in.  But, notwithstanding temperature or weather differences, there is a real sense of community spirit here. Every August we go to the nearby St Thibery jazz festival where it seems the entire town turns out to help or participate.  For three days the large square in front of the town hall is completely filled with tables and chairs as several thousand congregate for music, moules frites and excellent local wine. Children and dogs run wild and couples dance with abandon in the magical setting. I wonder if the brave Brit wearing a Breton jumper, beret and string of onions will be there again this year to amuse the locals?

See the caisse à savon  at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GI4Xu6lIbg0