Olympic flame party

These days have been fantastic and I’m looking forward to more experiences. Even if I sometimes stumble a bit in the work-life balance, I always find something nice and special in my days. The light painting and music always put a smile on my face, and even the adventure on my scooter was a real treat. I feel that these moments will remain unforgettable, and I can only be happy to be part of this exciting and colourful world. At dawn I even managed to see a shooting star, which only adds to my joy and hope for the future.

Arles, 12 May 2024.
I spoke to my Hungarian friend on the phone. He was the first to tell me he was drunk. I also have an unsent message for him: Make friends with alcohol! “Dear alcoholism, I’m the boss. The party is this weekend, we’re working today!” Gabriella, the owner’s girlfriend, called me back. He told me that they were looking for someone to replace me in the kitchen and that I would be transferred to the technical area. This news certainly gives me hope that I might not have to look for a new job after all. However… It is particularly true of the French that it is not what they say, but what they do; they do nothing. I go into the kitchen at six in the evening, and they wonder what I’m doing, I’m free in the evening. If they had told me at noon (and they don’t forget), I could have gone into town early in the afternoon. The Olympic flame arrived in Arles today. I arrived right at the end of the show. Never mind, I’ll come down for the evening concert. I wanted to have a nice dinner, but everywhere is full. The city is full of people, locals. I sat down on the terrace of a more elegant Indian restaurant. A glass (12.5 centilitres) is four euros, the Indian will give you a small jug (25 centilitres) for five. It’s more worth it. But, no, because I could hardly drink it. By the way, the inventor of the mango chicken should be canonised. Place Republique also had a lot of police and security, but they were not intrusive. There was a house DJ concert in the square. Three DJs in the middle of the half-hour set from a producer named Kavinsky. I now know that this is a nationally renowned musician. House music itself isn’t my genre, but somehow I managed to pack the music in a way that I enjoyed. In such a beautiful square, I would certainly have done a light painting on the museum and church walls. I’m not complaining, the stage technique was still spectacular. I made it home on the scooter at a speed of nine kilometres per hour, almost on foot. But there is something to make up for the two and a half hour journey. Listening to birds chatting in the pleasant air is simply wonderful. I saw a shooting star. I wished myself a nice day.