Fête De L'Arz

I went to a party/fair thing this weekend called the Fête de l'Arz.  The Arz is the river that runs through this area.  A swatch of land around the river was transformed into a carni-vintage-bohemian-eco-friendly paradise, complete with composting toilets instead of porta-potties and washing stations to clean the non-disposable dishes and utensils.  Armchairs and old carpets littered the area, along with innertubes and ancient exercise bikes.  One exercise bike was rigged to power a lamp and another to turn a little child-sized carousel.  Chandeliers, empty picture frames, strings of lights  and garland were hung all over.  A canopy over the bar was constructed out of old sails, and someone had built a raft to float in the river with a little bridge attaching it to the bank.  It was all delightful and also marvelously slap-dash.  Nothing had a finish to it; made me wonder if someone was a good enough designer to make it look haphazard, or if it really was as chaotically arranged as it looked.

It was donation-only and the food was seriously cheap.  I ate a crepe and have never been happier with the simple taste of sugar and butter in my life.

The music was the best part, though.  There were a few acapella groups on Friday night and a girl who played the guitar and sang what sounded like her own compositions.  I really liked her.  Saturday night, though; that was the jackpot.  Music that sounded like the fire-side revels of a gypsy caravan.  Music that made me think of the Russia, Bulgaria, Turkey, and France all at the same time.  It was impossible not to move to.  The fiddle or the accordian or the clarinet would play faster and faster and faster!  I had to buy their CD.

Then another band marched out in bomber jackets, helmets, and aviator goggles, with accents of bright orange.  And I'm sorry if I offend, but even if any group of American men would dare, I doubt that they could make neon orange and leather look so hot.  It was late and Manon and Anne-Sophie had already gone home, but I HAD to stay once they started playing.  They were just so good!  It was marching band plus rock band plus dreads plus Europe and they played the crowd as well as they played their instruments.  They even had groupies.  It was so sad when they finished; I had to buy their CD.

Please note: I was dancing a bit when I took these videos.
They aren't for watching.  They're for listening.

   

I had to bike home in the pitch black Breton night.  There were plenty of stars but no moon, and before I realized that my bike had a light on it, I rode into a patch of trees that arched over the road.  The darkness was so thick that the world seemed two dimensional.  If I didn't know better I would think I wasn't moving forward at all, that there was no more air to breathe.  I almost stopped breathing, the effect was so perfect.  (btw, there is a lovely addition to the metaphor of spiritual darkness and light in there, for those who care to find it.)  But don't worry; I got home safe and landed in my bed a little after midnight.  So worth it.