Oh what a L'atmsophere!

Bonjour mes amis! After 4 days in the midst of thousands celebrating all things Celtic, Fiona and I returned from the Festival Interceltique Lorient yesterday. Now I've been told to Blog 'short and often', but oh there's so much to tell...

Day 1: Flight to Paris - delayed, which wasn't a great start as we only had about an hour to make our connecting flight, from another Paris airport. Even our taxi driver looked concerned but managed to get us there, only for us to discover that we were to be delayed again. Eventually we reached Lorient at 10pm and grabbed a taxi to the hotel, a journey which was again a little disconcerting, particularly the manoeuvre through the the level crossing barriers regardless of the flashing warning lights (fair play he did look both ways). We decided to walk into Lorient to savour the mood and ended up in the town's square, we sat listening to Breton Rock whilst eating our Moules Frites. We instantly got the feeling the weekend would be a noisy one (and that frites would also become a regular feature ).

Day 2: Our first morning and I asked if I could borrow an iron as we'd been invited to a reception later that day and I wanted to look presentable. I was taken to the basement of the hotel and left me to my own devices, which was kind of the hotel lady who also shouted at both me and Fiona for not using trays at breakfast. Before making our way into the festival hub, I threw away my socks from the previous day, it had to be done (I felt sorry for the bin men truth be told). We meandered through the craft stalls and performance areas, visiting each Celtic nation's tents. Much to our disappointment we discovered that there was no Welsh tent at the festival. Yes there were some wonderful Welsh performers dotted throughout the programme but no designated area for the Welsh to meet and greet, to promote and and perform, it was such a shame.

We did see some great performances, one in particular from a Galician dance company, Nova Galega de Danza which we both agreed was fantastic. A simple fusion of contemporary and traditional Galician dance. One worth following up.


Day 3: An early start (one for the Touche Eclat). We were invited to the Stadium (home of FC Lorient) to watch the Grande Parade des Nations Celtes; 75 groups parading and performing in front of thousands of spectators. We waved, clapped and felt particularly proud of the Welsh contingent walking by. If bagpipes and penny whistles aren't your thing, this wouldn't have sat well with you, they were everywhere, really... Everywhere. Great fun. We ended the night and our time at Lorient listening to true Welsh ambassadors Mabon. Talented, charismatic and amazing live. Da iawn wir.

Day 4: Today was a travel day, but a nice one all the same. Our flights dictated we were to spend most of the day in Paris, a city I've never been to before. What an incredible place (incredibly expensive too). Fiona was my tour guide for the day. We began at Notre Dame and Pont des Arts, than on to the Louvre and Centre Pompidou. It was a glorious day but with luggage in tow, a sweaty one too.

Leaving Paris and making our way through airport security I became increasingly worried about having to remove my shoes again, concerned for the welfare of the security staff. After 4 days of endlessly walking, removing my shoes could quite easily have caused an international incident and would have given a whole new meaning to the term shoe bomber.

This already feels too long and I haven't even told you about Bar L'atmosphere (ironic) and my unstoppable desire to say Gracias instead of Merci at every given opportunity (Fiona's Del Boy French was equally as funny). Au revoir!