By Veronica

Le rouge et le noir

Yesterday's late night is backblipped. I got off to a slow start this morning, and definitely was not hungry. But when I was I decided to seize the opportunity of a madly flourishing basil plant. It started as a wilting, potbound plant bought cheap in a supermarket a couple of months ago -- I poked it hopefully into the tub outside the front door, and while everything else wilted in the heat it turned into a giant bush with massive leaves. I had some leftover roast hazelnuts, so I made pesto and had it on tagliatelle. It was delicious -- the flavour of the hazelnuts really came through, and it is so fresh and green.

It's the wacky Son Miré festival in Fabrezan this weekend. I had difficulty tracking down the programme and in the end I only made it to the final event tonight.  As you can see it was flamenco, but not as we know it. They weren't the best dancer and singer ever, but it was highly stylised and visually interesting  

The dancer had many costume changes, but always red and black. While she changed, the guitarist played and sang. A slightly awkward moment during one of these interludes when a big chap in shorts and t-shirt decided to get up on stage and do his own parody of flamenco. They handled it well, and when the dancer returned she elegantly saluted him and he took the hint. But he was less well received when he decided to share the applause at the end, and then appeared to be negotiating an encore with them. The organiser of the event stepped smoothly in and took him aside while the audience tutted.

I didn't take many photos and this and the extra are the only usable ones.

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