Well that was last night. The annual Soup Competition, part of the Soup Festival of the Vaison area! You might think we have entered the realms of the Soup Dragon and Major Clanger, but no. This is serious stuff. Folk gather in the School with their prize-winning (they hope) broths. Others scramble for cupfuls of same and someone judges the brews.You then fork out 8euros for a meal and wine.
Our friend Sørn, a mean soupetier, has been known to enter, but it is futile. Only a local ever gets the prize. And the winner goes on to the the great Simmer-Off at the end of the Festival, competing against the winners of the other villages.
We've never been. Adrian doesn't fancy it. I might have joined the gang of four (Liz, Keith, Gerard, Jen) last night, had it not been for watching Adam on Eggheads. Family first and all that! But to be honest the meal of a sausage and flageolets followed by bread and a foil wrapped triangle of camembert didn't sound too great!
This morning we seemed to spend our time trying to chase down L and K. Eventually, after having circled each other round the village like Pooh and Piglet searching for the Heffalump, we made contact and set out for lunch. In their hire car...only we couldn't get in. Automatic key did not work. Eventually Keith managed by using it manually and opened the doors from inside. But then the ignition wouldn't start and he couldn't lock the doors again! No lunch. They used our phone to speak to Avis and we went our separate ways...us to Vaison for what turned out to be an indifferent plat du jour.
Weep not, the home journey was a feast of amazing clouds and vivid colours and we stopped and walked round the vines in warm sun and wind.
