Week 4 (pt 2): Taking it Facilement

11 July

Today was a beach day that took us by surprise!

Marie-Céline, a friend of Jean-Claude’s of the last 50 years, invited us to her lovely home just below Cap-Ferret on the spit of land wrapping around the west side of Arcachon Basin. Marie-Céline is the writer/director of Jean-Claude’s musical production, Quand La Guerre Sera Finie, an original (apparently quite successful) work about WWII. This region, JC shared recently, housed many Jewish refugees following the first world war. I leave it to your own reasoning to deduce what became of them during the second world war and concurrent Nazi occupation. Though not in our region, the very existence of the memorial town of Oradour-sur-Glane, left entirely as it was when the Nazis brutally murdered every citizen and passer-by, two-thirds of them women and children, four days after D-Day, serves as a reminder of how visceral the repercussions of the war(s) are felt to this day. Pardon the brief detour from an otherwise very happy day; there is a sort of onus upon us when we travel to experience such feelings so as to remind others that we, together, can build a society of hope, goodwill, and fraternity to one day exist without exacting such horrors on our human family.

Anyway…

It’s a bit of a drive – about 1.5 hours – to Arcachon from St. Aubin-de-Branne, and when we arrived at Marie-Céline’s home overlooking the Basin, the gentlemen strolled down a few stairs to a shop on the beach that rapidly shucked a couple dozen oysters, the prized gem of this particular corner of the world. We enjoyed a well-matched Entre-Deux-Mers vin blanc with our oysters, regional pâtés (Wilson and Heather tried but still struggle with the pâtés), traditional sausages (see previous note), some crudités, and of course, plenty o’ pain (bread).

After lunch, a rest (which was tremendous fun for Wilson in a hammock), and some work for Heather, it was decided we would all go for a swim…except some prior language confusion meant none of the Americans had a swimsuit! Pas de problème for Wilson, who had Marie-Celine’s kind and watchful eye as he splashed in gentle waves, nor Felicity, who was positively delighted by both the sand and the waves. After more work and play back at the house, we strolled again to a casual restaurant in the town’s alley-like “main street” for more amazing local food (including a type of fish Brian and Heather had never encountered).

On the drive home, first Wilson, who is just learning of war, asked what happened after the war finished. JC had answers. After Wilson nodded off during JC’s Franglish response, Heather – in an attempt to change the subject of the war and keep JC’s mind off of the long drive – asked Jean-Claude what path took him from studying engineering at school to the career he eventually had in theater production.

Whoa boy.

He started to answer, then paused to say he would give us the “short version.” Heather responded that we had more than a half an hour of the drive remaining. That turned out to be just right for the short version. JC’s storytelling style is circular, not linear. It also tends to emphasize certain points by repeating them (with increased animation) several times. There were tales of philosophers, studying with priests, parental opposition, experimental theater, a brief foray into oboe-playing explanation, and back and around each point again. It was perhaps more of a James Joyce moment than a Victor Hugo. At any rate, it kept the adults awake and the kids asleep until we pulled up to the gîte at 23h, and we have even more color on the character that is our dear Jean-Claude.