France Vacance rail cards are wonderful things. It's only a short hop from the Palais d'Ork down to Dover and a quick burst across the English Sewer to Calais, then you are away. A few hours later and Paris looms up out of the twilight. A couple of days later, having fallen asleep at an Allman Brothers concert in the meantime, and it's time to continue the trek southward.
First stop Lyon, to pick up the tickets for the concert later that week in Francheville. After checking out the hotel situation I realised that it would be better to find one in Francheville itself as the local bus services in France tend to shut down after 20h30. So a short ride out to Francheville where a room was soon booked in a cheap hostelry for the night of the 7th. Back to Lyon for the night; then on to Marseilles in the morning. I just had time to whirl round my old stamping grounds before catching a train on the coastal route to Cannes.
What can one say about Cannes... Well contrary to my expectations you don't have to be super-affluent to enjoy yourself here, there is a large selection of hotels of all grades. Tearing myself away from the beaches for a while, I caught up with the bastard who used to work in Monster Melodies, Paris who ripped me off a few years back.
On the 5th at the MJC Picaud we gathered on the banks of a garden on the edge of town and settled down to watch AGORA QUINTET, Jean-Marc Jafet's neo-Brazilian salsa outfit. They played well, but most of the music was a little too sweet and syrupy for my tastes. A TV crew was there to film Jafet's set so they had done an extra long sound-check and the evenings schedule was running a little late. The Christian Vander Trio only had time for a reduced set tonight before the curfew, but the sound quality was tremendous. A concise, tasty little sucker of a show nonetheless.
After the concert Sous les paimiers in Cannes at the MJC Picaud I went backstage (ha-ha! it was more like behind the biggest palm tree) and spoke to Philippe Dardelle and Emmanuel Borghi. Christian was standing next to us, but someone else was already interviewing him. Philippe told me that the trio were not going to play an après-concert jam inside the MJC hall because they had a long journey that night to Pernes-Les-Fontaines. So did I, but I waited until early the next morning before catching the train to Marseilles and then on to Avignon. From there I could not find a local bus service that went frequently to Pernes so I got a taxi instead.
The hotel was very pleasant and the tourist information centre was not far away. So I inquired about the venue and discovered it was about a twenty-minute walk from the centre of the village. Later that evening I strolled out to l'Excalibur which is a little club aptly situated on the edge of a lake. The summer heat was pervasive, so after several bottles of the house wine (or perhaps it was Evian...) I was really glad that the trio were setting up their equipment under the trees for an open air gig. The next few hours drifted past as they performed a very long sound-check during which the lighting crew received a lot of flak. Christian objects to yellow lights, but this concert was to be filmed by a Television crew and they had set up a mini-studio inside the club itself. Eventually the conflicting views were settled; the yellow lights were all taken down and replaced with red or orange ones.
That evening, the music was unbelievably majestic, with endless solos from each of the ensemble. Particularly noteworthy was Philippe's long bass solo on 'Lonnie's Lament' - a Coltrane number, but also it was one of those shows where Christian excelled.
Early the following morning I set off for Francheville, it was the day of the French motor racing Grand Prix and by midday when I arrived in Lyon the weather was foul. A thirty-minute bus ride later I waited patiently for someone to answer the hotel doorbell. Several hours later, I was still there, outside the hotel but now soaked to the skin. A little birdie began to whisper in my ear that perhaps the hotel staff had gone racing for the day... I retired to a café for a little more non-alcoholic plonk. Meanwhile the rain continued to fall.
About 19h00 I decided to drag my heaving bulk up the hill to the Fort Bruisson where the band were due to play. Earlier in the afternoon I'd seen Christian and Emmanuel drive past while I hammered on the hotel gates. A café or two later, I swayed into the Fort to be greeted by a dirty great CONCERT ANNULÉ signpost! The gig had been intended for the fort parade ground, which was now awash, and the show aborted. After hanging around for a while I got a lift back to Lyon with Valerie. I figured that the Urban Sax spectacular in Lyon's central park would also be cancelled and decided not to waste any more time in the rain. The late train took us down to sunny Nice for a few days and then on to Cannes for the remainder of the holiday.