France

So the time-honoured spectacle of the wedding dance!  Only I didn't know the steps, but luckily I didn't really need to.  Clay had that all sorted, including acting as tour guide for us all!  It was like watching a foreign film  with no sub-titles, and they weren't necessary because the actors knew how to portray emotion and drama and comedy, and that special familiarity strangers quickly attain when someone in the group really knows how to connect everyone.  Clay and Katya are two of those people, connecting the Australian Boladeras cast with the Mexican ensemble, and both with the French contingent.  Oh, and there were Kiwis, Swedes, Austrians, Canadians, Italians and Spaniards...  Sometimes there was hasty translation from English to French to Italian, and Mexican to French to English, and English to Scott-French and Scott-Spanish to something someone could hope to understand and interpret for everyone else!  It was a marvelous occasion the wedding, a true testament to the quality of character of the hosts and participants.

The ceremony itself was a brief affair, and a well oiled procession of processes deftly handled by the city's beaurocracy.  We were alotted half an hour to dispense with the formalities, then the whole party were quickly ushered out so the next marital union could take place in the town hall.  But no matter the wind at our backs blowing from the Hotel de Ville, Clay and Katya made sure to greet each and every attendant of the ceremony and pose for photos on the steps.

 Clay and Katya at the Town Hall (Hotel de Ville) getting matrimonially amalgamated

 Mum (white top with back turned), Pish (blue shirt) and Kiwi Jeff (brown jacket)

After that most of us followed the bride and groom across the busy Jean Pain Boulevard Saturday traffic to the gardens where the 'official' photos were to be taken.  Luckily the mari et femme have a couple of friends who just so happen to be quite handy with a lens, so no expensive photographer was needed.

Later in the evening we all went up to the beautiful Chez Le Pèr'Gras, a restaurant above the Bastille with a wonderful view over the whole valley, and attended the reception.  Clay and Katya put in a great effort organising the food and drinks, DJ Nick was roped into supplying the beats, the incomparable vocal talents of Amandine silenced the crowd, Kiwi Jeff brought his guitar, and not a few of us brought each other and I'll say all the gathered guests to tears at speech time.  The two Juliens spoke wonderfully in French, Spanish and English about both Clay and Katya, and the Boladeras girls bravely said some Spanish pieces in their speeches.  Notably absent where the two fathers, who were sorely missed but respectfully and joyfully included in the celebrations through words and images.  Mum had a slide show accompany her speech, and Dad sent a letter to me with a few words he wished me to say on his behalf.  Luckily I read the letter over a few times beforehand, as I felt I needed to make some legible notes in the margins so I wouldn't stumble over his hieroglyphical handwriting at crunch time!  And then there was the emotion of watching Clay's reaction as I read his absent father's words to him.  No there was not a dry eye in the room!  But happily Clay and Katya will be over to Mexico soon enough to see Katya's Dad at home, and home to Wonganoo to see our own father before too long.


Apart from having lots of quality time with my brother and his new wife (and mother of his pending child), and with my own mother and sister, I most of all enjoyed the time I spent climbing and talking with Julien 'Pish' Pichot and Julien 'Chamoise' Catalan.  these are two of Clay's most wonderful friends, and true Frenchmen.  Pish is a great student of fine food and fine wine, and has a voracious appetite for learning (especially all the 'bad' English words).  The time we spent together at Ombleze has formed one of my most treasured memories from this trip so far.  Chamoise is the most sensitive and emotionally mature gentleman I've had the pleasure of meeting.  A conscientious host and expert guide, and the perfect whit to loosen up with a few wines!  They will both miss Clay when he moves back to Australia, and he will miss them doubly I'm sure.

Mon Frere

 Mum, me, Clay, Kelly, and cousin Shane

Ombleze

Pish washing out the spilled red wine from all his camping gear!

 The incomparable Chamoise

The remainder of the time that Kelly and Mum had in France was spent touring around the city and the mountains, as well as a little bit of climbing at the local crags.  Mum consumed all things French with an appetite long suppressed by decades of rural enchainment and the burdens of financial responsibility, and I could tell this little trip abroad will no longer be enough to sate her wanderlust.