The Sardinade

We saw some posters in the village advertising a 'Sardinade' on Saturday night. We love the big, outdoor, communal meals the French put on, so we called and made reservations.

We arrived at the square to see it filled with tables, chairs, barbecues, and people. Big jugs of home-made wine sat under a tree waiting to be poured into plastic tumblers.

We found ourselves a spot at one of the long tables and sat down. We watched a little boy shoot flying ants with his pop gun. A salsa band was setting up to provide the evening's entertainment. The air was warm. The wine was flowing. Plates of chips, olives and corn nuts were being passed from table to table.

The star dinner attraction was a big tinfoil packet stuffed full of barbecued sardines. Heads, guts, bones and all. I could tell by the look on Joe's face he wasn't totally enjoying it. You should have seen his expression when one of the women came around and plunked more sardines on his plate!

After dessert, a group of women got up to dance the samba together. The booty shaking was going on.

The friendly French people sitting beside us struck up a conversation, but soon gave up when it became apparent that we were not understanding a single word they said.

We left at midnight. Full of fish and home-made wine.

I love this country.