Friday afternoon we arrived in the town of Argentan for Les Yéyés en Normandie. It is an annual music festival/party started by Pierre-Charles Goupil and held on his family’s farm. For 20 euro each, guests are privy to unlimited beer, food, and music for an entire weekend. This year, there were around 130 people in attendance.
Attending this festival will truly be something we will always remember. We met so many wonderful people, got to see such a beautiful part of France’s countryside, and got to play our final show with Gwennaël. It is so interesting to be at a party where you are absolutely the only Americans. French people, entirely in their element, end up seeming so French, so entirely different from Americans, and it’s really hard to put your finger on exactly what feels so different about them. It was hilarious and wonderful.
However, it wasn’t perfect. I was the only vegetarian in attendance, and so Friday night while Hanna and Jonathan feasted on as many sausages as their hearts desired, I ate bread. It was also a lot chillier at night than we’d anticipated, we would all start shivering at around 9pm. The main issue, though, is that we didn’t sleep the whole weekend (and this was not our decision).
The bands typically would stop between 3-5 in the morning (also for some reason all the bands that played late were heavy electro music, the music nightmares are made of!), after which the 10-15 people still left awake would plug their ipods into the speakers and blare music until around 9-10 am. Retrospectively, it’s funny. Lying in bed at four in the morning with the walls of your tent shaking from all the bass, it’s not.
Fortunately, my husband is the coolest, and so Saturday night, after having actually not slept at all on Friday, as we were lying in the tent at 3 and the bands had just doubled their volume for some reason, Jonathan sprang to action, went around talking to anyone he could find, and found us a car to sleep in for the night. Even a football field away from the music, the car was still vibrating from the noise, but it was so much better than the tent had been so I was asleep in 30 seconds, despite the fact that we had to sleep with our knees all bent because the trunk was only four feet long. Jonathan’s really the best husband around!
Are we glad we did it? Absolutely. Would we do it again? Only if we could sleep in a hotel.
After weekends like this, we can’t believe the year we’ve gotten to have. We are so incredibly sad to be leaving France — Jean-Eduard kept insisting that we should stay in France and we just kept saying, “Nous voulons mais nous pouvons pas.” C’est triste de dire adieu!