The stranglehold is tightening on the village of Daglan. Yesterday morning I tried to drive up our little street into the main village square and immediately saw the barriers and tape, blocking off the square. And there to my left were several giant trucks (Fr.: camions) (Brit.: lorries) (Dutch: Heffenpoofenvehiculeschtunkers). Uh oh — it’s the rides for the festival.
Sure enough. Now our square is completely blocked off, dominated by a giant bumper-car ride, plus what looks like an obstacle course for all-terrain vehicles. At the south end of the village, there’s a ride for kids, and Le Palais du Sucre — a truck that (I guess) will unfold into a cotton-candy vendor. And there is more. Much more.
So tomorrow morning, we will drive our car to a friend’s house, at the edge of the village, away from the action. We will have our ear plugs at the ready.
We will try to take part, of course, to play our role in village life, munching the communal steak-and-beans dinner and listening to the concert tomorrow night. After that, who knows? Later reports, with photos, will tell the tale.