Just a bunch of Englishmen

by Lorenzo Piccoli


Niccolò chose the place, bargained for the house, and found the motivation to rein everybody in, including those he did not know previously – and there were many of them. Nico, Thomoose, and Tree flew in from Canada. So did Andrew, who landed in Paris shortly after new year’s midnight. Jasper signed in about a week before, just like we had expected of him; whereas Giallu committed in September and never wavered. Erik and Iris drove from Rotterdam. I flew with Arianna from Treviso. And we all met in Bordeaux.

I remember lavish meals, funky games (Les grammes de Bourdeaux), cold hikes around Saint Emilion, impromptu Dixit games, Jasper going blind with a stick, playing limbo with strangers, Chilean dances, Jasper baking bread, Tee making classy Old Fashioned, Giallu dignifying the Mapazzone (stir people’s culinary curiosity and put them to work), Iris’ write-a-poem competitions, melted Mont d’Or for breakfast, scooter hunting and racing on the cobblestones along the Garonne in four teams of two, La Mirabelle and its petrol blue for dinner.

Then Erik, Giallu and all of our two girls left. We made up for their departure going to la Dune du Pilat and taking our traditional January-swim. The title of this post comes from there: we asked a bystander to take a picture of us. She was quite amused and recorded a video instead, commenting at the very start of it: ‘We are at the Dune du Pilat and there is a bunch of Englishmen about to swim“.

Sweet side-memory of that day: the Jon & Roy & Stevie Ray Vaughan playlist.