Saturday night was the annual Moules Frittes festival at the lake.
Now, there was supposed to be 4 of us as Gary and Kaz were coming out for a fortnight.
Sadly, Gary had not received his passport in time, and now finds himself even further down the waiting list as 500 African athletes apply for asylum in London thanks to the Olympics.
Still, Kaz made it and Gary will join us next week hopefully.
Anyway, 400 people turned up for an evening of eating and dancing till 3AM.
The bar area was full to start with.
Hence leaving the dance floor empty.
And this is what it was all about.
A salad starter, followed by the moules, then apple pie, with a drink thrown in. All for 10 English pounds, or 12 euros as we call it here.
Then the dancing started.
Usual euro pop fare with the classics.
Ca plane pour moi.
Cotton Eye Joe.
Rasputin.
Joe le bloody taxi.
That is to name a few.
Why are French discos so crap?
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