Magical mystery tour

The quality of this photo is terrible, but it's the most representative of my day, so ...

In the morning, a 2-hour choir committee meeting, moving seamlessly onto an all-day rehearsal. I skipped off home a bit early in order to be in time to get to the Centre Culturel for our Parcours Secret. We'd been told that if we weren't there by 9 pm, the bus would go without us. When we got there, there were actually four buses in the car park, and over 200 people. The first excitement after the buses were loaded up was getting out of the car park, as the usual anarchic parking had rendered the approach road impassable to anything larger than a Mini. Finally vehicle owners were found and the buses manoeuvred their way out of the car park and through the narrow streets of the village; the drivers got a round of applause when we emerged unscathed.

First stop for buses 1 and 2 was a domaine in Boutenac, where we were ushered into a barn that was a rather cosy fit for 120 people. Here two wacky Belgian puppeteers did a show which involved puppets constructing themselves from pieces of styrofoam on a cluttered workbench, and then ferociously attacking their creators. It was quite deranged, very funny, and cleverly done. We left the two puppeteers clearing up the resulting mess ready for the next busload, and set off once more along pitch dark rural roads. Luckily we didn't meet much traffic, and the two pairs of buses were carefully coordinated via cellphone to avoid meeting each other. We arrived at the Domaine du Grand Caumont just as the other two buses left. In a large and chilly barn,  a string quartet and a singer performed some rather strange songs in French and English, allegedly based on female troubadours' songs. I wasn't that keen on the songs themselves, but the quartet was seriously good.

The four buses then converged on the cave cooperative in Ferrals. Everyone got off and we blundered around the outside of the buildings in the pitch darkness, following a  man with a torch. He had what seemed to be a scrap bit of plastic with him, which turned out to be a tame ghost. Illuminated from within, it flew silently about above us, responding to gestures and whistles from its master. As we followed it, we came upon this pianist in the yard. It was impossible to photograph the ghost, so you'll just have to imagine it. Evidently it was remotely controlled, but we couldn't figure out how it could fly silently.

Back home after midnight, alarm set for 7 a.m. Phew!