They think it’s all over...

Well, it actually is. After an exhausting ten-month season, the rugby is finally finished. Despite the official rugby season being long over, the last two months have seen a series of Final Phase matches; a sudden death home-and-away competition which essentially gives the teams the opportunity to battle it out in order to be promoted to a higher pool for the following season. Although the CAS have had an almost unbeaten season, conceding just two matches, the ‘Phase Finale’ (or as I believed, ‘fazss-finall’) has been a lot more hard going. Losing nearly every away match, it was due to their strength at home that they managed to stay in the competition (points are done on aggregate for aller-retour matches). But after losing to Villefranche-de-Laurangais in a rather dubious 47-minute long second half (in which the opposition scored a try in the 46^th minute), they weren’t able to regain their ground in the return match and lost 15-6, knocking them out of the competition.

Nadine and the youngest CAS supporter, Marylou

Sarlat Vs Muret (Sarlat in red... away strip)

Forts and Becky who managed to catch a match whilst on holiday here

Stade de Madrazes

Sarlat vs Villefranche

It is a shame, but the season and the Phase Finale in particular have been unbelievably fun. The supporters – the most loyal, enthusiastic and hilarious bunch that I have ever seen – faithfully follow the team to every match, bringing horns, flags, crazy electric sound boxes attached to speakers, face paints, and more blue and black paraphernalia than I’ve ever seen... any more gusto and they’d be on the damn field itself. Massive congrats to the players – what a treat to support a team that actually wins (sorry Scotland, but it’s true). And how lucky am I to have had the chance to experience the atmosphere and madness of the stands, the away buses, and the habitual 3eme mi-temps. 

P.S

Article du journal Sud Ouest du lundi 6 juin 2011

Sarlat et Nontron ont craqué

Les deux clubs périgourdins ont échoué dans leur quête de montée en Fédérale 2. Le CAS concède même sa toute première défaite à domicile.

Tous les points marqués l'ont été par l'entremise des buteurs : Rousseau pour Sarlat à deux reprises, et Mercier pour Villefranche-de-Lauragais, cinq fois. Pour les essais, les spectateurs sont restés sur leur faim. À l'exception de deux occasions très franches dans le premier quart d'heure, Sarlat est tombé face à une équipe d'un niveau au-dessus.

Mais, passées les quinze premières minutes, les Sarladais sont retombés dans le travers qui les a poursuivis toute la saison, à savoir être capable d'enchaîner plusieurs temps de jeu, mais finir par perdre le ballon.

Hier, trop de touches ont été perdues et, avec elles, l'avantage de la possession. Trop de ballons ont été rendus au pied à l'adversaire, faute de trouver les touches. Les rares coups de pieds tactiques n'ont jamais mis en difficulté des Villefranchois toujours bien organisés dans l'occupation de l'espace. Ajoutons à cela des choix de jeu douteux, beaucoup trop de précipitation et de fautes de main.

Alors, cette première défaite à domicile de la saison ne doit pas faire oublier l'excellente prestation générale du groupe tout au long de l'année qui, en d'autres temps, aurait été synonyme de montée directe. Il y avait certes de la déception à la fin de la rencontre, mais tout le monde pense à cette saison qui a finalement tenu ses promesses : se qualifier et aller le plus loin possible.

Les Nontronnais, également,ne visaient que la qualification. Mais ils étaient, eux aussi, à 80 minutes de la Fédérale 2. Mais les Héraultais étaient invaincus à domicile depuis deux ans. Le challenge s'annonçait difficile… Lunel a sorti ses plus beaux atouts pour assurer la montée.

Les locaux ont fait une très bonne entame : Sirvent débloque le compteur dès la 5e minute. Après un quart d'heure, les Lunellois inscrivent leur premier essai. Taillan feinte une passe pour Akabi qui va aplatir entre les perches. Puis Grimal enchaîne pour Taillan et Bezert marque le deuxième essai. Nontron réduit l'écart avant la pause par Tallet qui, après une pénaltouche, aplatit en coin.

La transformation, difficile, ne passera pas. Les Lunellois reviennent en force des vestiaires en ajoutant deux essais. C'en est alors fini des espoirs nontronnais. Mais Deforge récupère la passe de Boisel pour l'essai, peu avant le coup de sifflet final. Pour l'honneur.

Bravo les gars pour cette belle saison...

Recitals, minstrels and dead dogs

It’s every student’s nightmare. Half an hour, and 25% of your degree is done. A mere 30 minutes in which you have to prove the fruits of three long year’s worth of hard labour (slash practise), in which you are face to face with your examiners, and upon which your final result essentially rests. Welcome to the world of the music student, and as May comes to an end, the halls of music departments up and down the country resound with frantic final rehearsals for end of year recitals.

Celyn, having survived the traumatic dissertation hand in, rush of final coursework submissions and the dreaded Africa exam (a one-year module on all of the music on the whole of Africa from the beginning of eternity until the present day – great idea) had his recital – his last ever undertaking as a University of Manchester undergraduate student – on the 1^st June. Obviously I wasn’t going to miss it for the world and, as the dates coincided with yet another holiday (the Ascension – love the pick and choose attitude of the French towards Catholicism. Holidays – in. Church – out.) I was lucky enough to enjoy a four-day sojourn across the channel to indulge in some much needed musical therapy. As expected, I was completely taken aback at the high standard and quality of the recitals and, being soppier than a machine-load of sponges, I’m not going to lie, I definitely had a little cry or two *sniffsniff.. just so proud y’all*!!

But seriously, whilst marvelling at how much hard work had gone into each, and just how talented my peers actually were, it was also a chance to enjoy some high-quality repertoire – something of which there is a notable lack out here. The standard musical fare in Sarlat is Keen’v and Magic System on repeat, with the occasional Lady Gaga tune thrown in for good measure. So it was a welcome relief to hear, amongst others, Kaija Saariaho’s mental yet fantastic NoaNoa for flute and electronics, a tear-jerking Lament for Two Violas by Bridge, a Spanish fiesta on piano with a little Takemitsu interlude, the whole of the extremely sexy tenor sax Concerto for Stan Getz by Richard Rodney Bennett, Hall of Mirrors suite from East Kilbride’s very own saxophonist Tommy Smith, and Debussy’s mesmerising clarinet rhapsody and rather lesser-known songs for soprano... pheewph. 

And so ends third-year...

I think the success of every recital was epitomised as we all gathered on the grass outside the Martin Harris Centre, sipping champagne and eating chocolate cake (courtesy of the Raggett family collective) and enjoying the late afternoon sun in the knowledge that everyone had now completed their degree. Congrats guys... I is proud.

On a much smaller scale, I was lucky enough to indulge in a little bit of music-making of my own, although it was no way near the standard that I had been treated to in Manchester. Receiving a last-minute call from some musicians in St Julien de Lampon, I ended up finding myself playing in a quartet (two oboes, horn and ‘cello) for a fête in nearby Gourdon. Only having time for one quick rehearsal, we actually managed to pull it off quite well, and though we expected to play for a mere 15 minutes, we ended up spending three hours playing a medley of classical arrangements (a few Bach fugues, a Vitali trio, and Schubert’s Moment Musical) as well as a couple of rags, some film music, and a fair few well-loved French numbers. Although notably lacking in audience members, the highlight was definitely the bizarre wandering ‘Bacchus minstrels’ – fantastically dressed, and always in character, it certainly made for an interesting afternoon, if not one of the weirdest things I have ever seen.

Laurent, Bernadette and Dominique

And dead dogs? To cut a long and rather disgusting story short, I ended up spending one Saturday canoeing down the Dordogne with a bunch of bénévoles (volunteers) in order to clean the banks and the river itself. With the promise of a day’s worth of canoeing, a midday picnic, and an apéro at the end, obviously I was definitely up for it. Especially as, in my opinion, the Dordogne wasn’t actually that dirty – one look at the Union Canal shows that there are spots far worse to be tackled. Heading happily off with Greg (Lucie Pérusin’s boyfriend), the morning was spent picking up miniscule scraps of ancient bin-bags and rejoicing if your ‘team’ was lucky enough to find a discarded water bottle – sheesh, this was hard work (!). However, on the approach to Cénac, the real cleaning began. Underneath a water pump jutting out into the river, we came across a whole load of industrial waste; four tractor tyres, iron rods, broken doors, gigantic metal screws, as well as random household objects such as chairs, clothes, and half a sofa. Big congrats go to the other volunteers who, between them, managed to haul up everything from the dirty river bed and, precariously balancing their finds on their (now extremely low) canoes, rowed to Cénac to empty the dechets into an express-built bin. Slightly less laden than the others, we went slightly slowed and trawled the banks to catch anything else that had slipped through the cleaning net, as it were. Unfortunately, this was when we came across a half-submerged suitcase which, on closer inspection, contained a fully-grown and fully-deceased dog.

Without going into details, it was absolutely rancid. Take one dead animal, some water, a few weeks of intense sunlight, and an enclosed space – the result? The foulest smell imaginable. I was not the only one who witnessed a reappearance of my breakfast when a particularly strong gust of wind blew the stench our way. Although always fancying myself as a bit of an eco-warrior, there are some things I cannot do, and touching that suitcase after having realised what was inside was one of them.

Giving the canoes a well-needed wash at the end of the day

A thank-you poster from the organisers at the after-clean-up apéro

Frankly, I was shocked at the extent to which people disregard the environment around them – especially when it is in a region such as this. Not only is the Dordogne uncommonly beautiful, but I reckon a good 70% of its economy relies on tourism – how do they expect to attract people from far and wide when their pride and joy is being treated as little more than a gigantic rubbish can? With four groups of volunteers each cleaning different sections of the river, we more than easily collected enough rubbish to fill our allocated industrial sized rubbish carton. Add to this the inconceivably inhuman side of putting an animal – alive or already deceased; I don’t care – into a suitcase and lobbing it over the side of the road into a river. Seriously, although we had a great time in the canoes and really getting our hands dirty, this really makes you think about the importance of the environment, and how easy it is to disregard that which is around you. 

Although I’m not going to turn vegetarian anytime soon (sorry bro), I think this has definitely had an impact on my outlook towards a more ecologically aware way of living, and of looking after your surroundings. At least, I hope it has anyway.