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| "Dessine-moi une Two Cee Vee, Hee-Hee-Hee..." by Thierry. Borrowed Bic on recycled table-mat, 2017 With apologies to Le Petit Prince... |
Vincent tells Proprio he'll catch up later over apéritifs, then heads back to his accommodation to collect some stuff.
Proprio walks away from Mogette and La Salle Luria.
Proprio walks away from Mogette and La Salle Luria.
Mogette relaxes her handbrake cables, leans her Michelin 125
against the olive branch, gazes down at the Vox memorial, and settles into a
better-late-than-never Sunday afternoon snooze.
Proprio knows that he needs to find La Chancellerie, a
converted barn which, he had been assured, would be the venue for a CONSTELLATION of star appearances, starting Monday.
In his orange musette back-pack, among the detritus of
minimalist travel are a battered smartphone, and an even more battered
miniature model of Mogette La 2CV Coquette.
“Hoi!”
Comes a muffled shout from the back-pack’s zippered
side-pocket.
“Il fait bloody chaud in here. C’est quand qu’on will
arrive?”
Mini Mogette – MnM to her friends- is considerably less
coquette and not nearly so patient as the real one. She loves to mix French
with English in a way some people find quite endearing.
“Très soon ma
petite”
Re-assures Proprio, going on to explain to MnM...
“There will be be 130 graphic artists, writers, printers,
publishers and other creative folk attending Les Rencontres INTERNATIONALES de
Lure at various times during the coming week.
People mostly from the French or Francophone parallel universe, with
a stardust sprinkling of non-French speakers.
“Les Rencontres de LURE have been held annually in the
Provence village of LURS since…1952. Later I shall tell you of Giono, Vox et les Autres, ma petite.”
“Fascinant. Very.”
Replies MnM, with fake sincerity.
“De toute façon, what are we doing ici anyway. Nous
Sous le ciel Blue?”
Shouts Mini-Mogette, as Proprio turns left towards a flight
of stone steps built above an élégant and quasi-immaculate grotto labelled “WC
Publics”.
“Leave the rubbish poetry
To me
Mon amie.
Nous sommes ici to OBSERVE and to PARTICI-
PE”
Replies Proprio.
“Now ta gueule and we will ask how to get from ici
… to La
Chancellerie”.
And, the universe undoubtedly unfolding as it should in the
one-sided shade of this tiny Provençal village street on this perfect Sunday afternoon, the third Lursien (after Gérard
and Vincent) MnM and Proprio encounter turns out to be…
Thierry.
Thierry is wearing Sunday afternoon stubble and no shirt. He has had either a lunch trop long, or a sieste trop courte. He, like Gérard earlier, is smoking a small cigar. He is attempting, in front of the pale blue doors of les WC Chics et Chocs, to remove the
“antivol” which has become jammed in the rear wheel of his beautiful
motorcycle. In between puffs of cigar smoke he is looking at his cracked rear
mudguard, and repeating the word “Fuck”, alternately and seamlessly in French
and in Flamand.
“Vous êtes de
Lurs?”
Enquires Proprio.
« En quelque
sorte »
Comes the reply, typographically, with a smile and a
quizzically raised eyebrow à la James Bond.
The three words are uttered in a
spoken font redolent of Comic MS.
“Connaissez-vous
La Chancellerie, ou du moins un chemin pour y aller?
Thierry thinks
« Aha, un "type" avec humour, ou peut-être un smartarse »
MnM knows her own answer to this one, but, unchracteristically, keeps
schtumm.
“Mon ami, all roads ici…
Lead to
La
Chancellerie.
Et
Si tu m’aides à
débloquer mon effing antivol, I shall indicate to you le effing way to La
Chancellerie, and nous partagerons le verre du friendship toute à l’heure”.
« Tu peux
réparer le mudguard avec de la Super Glue »
Suggests Proprio as, on the hot side of la rue they do,
indeed,
Lift up the rear wheel of the bike...
And un-jam the antivol.
“Quel smartarse”
Comes a semi-stifled comment from le sac orange.
“Did you hear something?”
Asks Thierry.
“It may have been a noise from Les Toilettes Turques”
Comes the reply.
“See you toute à l’heure...
in LURE”
Shouts Proprio, as he climbs the stone Stairway to Heaven.
“Bugger the laboured Led Zep references. It’s still bloody hot in here”
Are the last words Thierry thinks he hears as the orange
musette disappears diagonally upwards, over the WC sign and around the balustrade…
Stay tuned, dear reader, as the walk towards Le Coup de Bleu
continues, and we wander towards Episode 2:
“Pastis,
Pissaladière et Pays Noir”
Now click on the capital "G" for blue guitars and a Star Man...
