The Trip to France
- Tocane

Find Tocane

Driving to Tocane was pretty easy. We just followed the signs and soon we were entering town. Like many small French towns, it was basically a single long road with homes and businesses strung along it, expanding briefly to a depth of three or four streets at the center by the church. We found the central place easily, and there was even a small session in progress when we got there so we were sure it was the right place!

Finally arriving in town was a welcome development, especially for Mike. "I was tired from the trip and pretty worn down from having French spoken all around me that I couldn't understand. I was a long way from home and I knew it. As we stepped out of the car Horse Keane's, one of my favorite hornpipes, came wafting over from the session. It was one of life's amazing twists that this tune—from home in Chicago, written by our friend Jimmy Keane—should be greeting us. I spent the rest of the night much restored."

We stopped and played for awhile, then figured we'd better try to locate our lodgings. We'd made arrangements through one of the organizers, and all we knew was the name of this B&B. Karen called Hélène to get directions, but she wasn't home, so we got vague instructions from one of her family. We hopped into the Sneaker and tried following the directions repeatedly, choosing a different road out of town each time. We were just at the point of doubling back again when we spotted... an Irish flag flying by the side of the road. We continued on and saw another, then another, and figured this couldn't just be coincidence. We made our way to a farmhouse where a large party was just getting started. A large Irish party.

Before long, we'd found someone to help us; in fact, he had us follow him to the gîte rural, waited for us to check in and deposit our belongings, then led us all the way back to the party! We were very grateful for the help, the company, and all the good food. (Karen was very impressed when she noted multiple vegetarian dishes at the potluck supper. Normally in France, vegetarians wither away because they can't find anything suitable to eat. Maybe that only happens to British vegetarians.)