barbeques in France

French people have barbeques too. Seriously. A platter of greasy french fries underneath a couple of char-broiled pork chops or spicy sausage and a spread of Camembert cheese to follow made the village soirée with the old people quite the family affair. I shook hips with grandma and grandpa Jacques this evening in between the performance by Michael Jackson imitators. The music reminded me of Delilah, you know, the cool and soft voice that lingers on the radio every night for those lonely travelers. I could have sworn that I jumped into a time machine dated for 1983 (note: no relation to John Mayer's brilliant lyrical ballad). However, in all reality, the night seemed a bit familiar to me, full of laughter with young and old, and American flair.

Imagine: the perfect day. I reveled in pyjamas all day, munching on a few new types of cheeses every couple of hours, and cleaned up only for enjoying the village festival. How much more wholesome can it get?

Tomorrow, there is a grand market in Pelissane that Laura is taking me to before we enjoy the afternoon with her family at yet another barbeque, French style, of course. Home just got a bit closer.