Sunday night is music night…

Terry sets off up the track (about 50 yards) for his first “band practice” with the campsite owner. Well, you could hardly call it a band, seeing as one hasn’t been formed, and it can’t be a practice as there’s nothing to practice for, so it’s just a “do” where a few musicians gather round with their guitars and make some kind of noise. Just as well they’re communicating with musical notes, because there’s something of a challenge on the linguistic front: four people there, four different languages. Hmm…interesting…a French man speaking French (well, naturally…) as well as Corsican, Italian and a kind of upside down English; a Corsican speaking…Corsican; an Italian, yes, well, it’s obvious, isn’t it, and an Irishman speaking English and French. The Italian sits listening. The Corsican sings, and the other two, according to Terry at any rate, twiddle about on their guitars. Needless to say, a successful night was had by all, and out of it are born one rock star and one teacher (Terry). I think I’ll keep out of it!

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