Towering

After getting back at 1 a.m. we had a leisurely breakfast at about 9, and since the weather had improved set out to explore. The French couple we breakfasted with knew the area and recommended Bassouès, so that's where we went first. This is bastide (fortified village) territory and Bassouès is a lovely example. This 14th-century tower is in pretty good nick, but much of the rest of the village is in a state of advanced dilapidation. The central square has a huge and impressive covered market hall, large enough to drive a truck through (the main road passes through it; see second extra). The half-timbered buildings all round the square are gently crumbling and there's a lot of property for sale, going cheap. Around the corner though, the manor is clearly inhabited and well maintained (first extra).

From her we went to Tillac, a smaller bastide that occupied us for about five minutes. Then we looked at the road atlas and noticed that the giant teapot in Castelnau-Magnoac was on the same page, so although it was a bit out of the way we decided to go there for lunch. A nice drive through rolling countryside, big skies, and acres of sunflowers and sweetcorn. We shared a cheese and pickle sandwich and a massive scone with jam and clotted cream, and got back to Marciac just in time for the afternoon showing of Buena Vista Social Club: Adios. A bit of a sentimental weepie, following the band members as they aged -- but also lovely to see their deep friendship and the humble pleasure they took in their late-blooming and unexpected fame. Some funny moments too, particularly the scene where the musicians are crankily arguing over tuning and technique only hours before their first ever concert together, after the success of the BVSC album.

After the film we had time for a wander round; with the weather being more clement we bought glasses of champagne and sat in the square along with hundreds of other people to listen to the excellent Mandy Gaines singing jazz standards, before we headed to the marquee for the evening -- the reason we came to Marciac.

I'm on the Marciac mailing list despite never having been to the festival (we nearly did one year but had to cancel due to a sick cat). When I got this year's programme back in May, I was on the phone right away to book. Jacky Terrasson, Wynton Marsalis, and the divine Cécile McLorin Salvant all on stage the same evening, a 3-hour drive from home? Unmissable!

We had our pre-concert meal in the on-site restaurant, run by some of the hundreds of volunteers who keep the festival going. I knew the chef was a professional, but we were still very pleasantly surprised by how truly excellent the meal was. An apero of floc with delightful little canapes, then foie gras, duck breast in a delicious wine and mustard sauce with freshly cooked organic vegetables, apple croustade with ice cream, local wine, coffee, and armagnac for those who wanted it, beautifully presented with excellent service, all in for 35 euros each. Much better than the more expensive meal we'd had the previous night.

In the massive tent, we were relatively well placed (row 25, about a quarter of the way back from the stage) but it's still a far bigger venue than we are used to. The performers were very distant figures; the last time we saw Cécile in Narbonne, we were lucky enough to be in the front row, close enough to smell her perfume and make eye contact. In Marciac there are large screens, and the two cameramen on stage did a good job of presenting angles and close-ups you couldn't see from the audience, but it still didn't match the intimacy of a smaller venue. It's also a pity that there's no jovial MC to add a personal touch; instead the musicians are introduced by a disembodied voice.

Still, the musicians were of course superb. Jacky Terrasson, our favourite pianist, played a relatively minor role as guest pianist in the first half. The band was very traditional, so he was too. Cécile opened with a fabulously virtuosic Haitian song (she is half Haitian) which I hope will be on her next album, and followed up with a mixture of her own compositions and classics like Petite Fleur and A Good Man is Hard to Find (the latter reducing Wynton Marsalis to helpless laughter). It was a fantastic show; we were really happy we went. My little Sony was confiscated by security on the way in (not that I'd have taken any photos of the concert anyway) but hopefully you can see this Facebook album.

It was well after one by the time the concert finished and we were back at the B&B by two, ready to collapse into bed after a long day.