Monday 17th, Tuesday 18th October: A plea, a pleasure shared and a pleasant conclusion.

Monday 17^th October was a blogging day, the only breaks being for sustenance. It's quite tiring actually, and on returning from Benelux I lay on my bed , switched on TV and began to watch some unknown music programme. I didn't see much of it since I must have fallen asleep almost immediately.

That would be a coincidence, would it: a visit to Benelux and falling asleep?

To tell you the truth I almost fell asleep sitting at the bar, and it wasn't due to alcohol intake . I'm not really used to the mad social whirl that I seem to fall into here. Four late nights had taken their toll. Anyway, when I woke from my 'power-nap' on Monday evening there was one of those shockingly bad TV programs in progress. It was in English with French subtitles, and rejoiced in the name of “Tool Academy”. Quel horreur! It was one of those things you can't really believe are actually in front of your eyes. Twelve horrific individuals, full of their own importance, and believing themselves to be God's gift to the opposite sex, or the same sex in one case took part in a competition. If I had been the producer I would have scuttled their speedboat off Cancun and left them all to drown, or at least to swim to shore through shark-infested waters. Now that might have made for an interesting programme!

And basically, that was Monday. Now Tuesday promised to be different, and the promise was fulfilled.

Just before we move on to Tuesday's events, I have come to the point in writing this blog when I would really like to have an idea of who is reading it. Last year I thought it might only be my labradoodle Barney, and even that last hope was shattered by my daughter Julia who had tested his reading ability and found that he did not even possess the basic phonics required.

There are statistics available to blog writers, which inform me that I have more readers in Russia, Canada and the US than at home in the UK, even though my initial reason for writing it was to let folk back home know what was going on. I believe it is possible to add a comment on the blog page, and it would be nice to know who and where you are. It would be wonderful, therefore if you would take the few seconds required just to add your name or alias, and where you are. You can comment too, if you like.

Juste avant de passer à des événements de mardi, je suis venu au point de la rédaction de ce blog quand je voudrais vraiment avoir une idée de qui est-ce la lecture. L'année dernière, j'ai pensé qu'il pourrait être que mon labrador Barney, et même que le dernier espoir a été brisé par ma fille Julia qui avait testé sa capacité de lecture et a constaté qu'il ne possédait même pas de la phonétique de base nécessaires.

Il y a des statistiques disponibles pour les écrivains blog, qui m'a informer que j'ai plus de lecteurs en Russie, le Canada et les Etats-Unis que chez moi dans le Royaume-Uni, même si ma raison initiale de l'écriture a été de laisser les gens chez moi savent ce qui se passait. Je crois qu'il est possible d'ajouter un commentaire sur la page du blog, et il serait bon de savoir qui et où vous êtes. Ce serait merveilleux, donc si vous prenez les quelques secondes nécessaires juste d'ajouter votre nom ou pseudo, et où vous êtes. Vous pouvez commenter aussi, si vous le souhaitez.

Просто прежде чем мы перейдем к событиям вторника, я пришел к тому моменту написания этого блога, когда я действительно хотел бы иметь представление о том, кто читает это. В прошлом году я думал, что это может быть только моя Labradoodle Барни, и даже то, что последняя надежда была разрушена моя дочь Юлия который проверил его умение читать и обнаружил, что он даже не обладают основными акустики требуется.

Есть статистика доступна в блоге писателей, которые сообщают, что у меня больше читателей в России, Канаде и США, чем на родине в Великобритании, хотя моя первоначальная причина для написания было, чтобы народные домой узнать, что происходит. Я считаю, что можно добавить комментарий к странице блога, и было бы приятно знать, кто и где вы находитесь. Было бы замечательно, поэтому, если вы приняли бы несколько секунд требуется просто добавить свое имя или псевдоним, а где вы находитесь. Вы можете оставить комментарий тоже, если хотите.

Now I was able to edit the Google translation into French, which actually seemed quite inaccurate, but can't in all honesty edit the Russian paragraph. It seems to me to be better than the French effort.

You will notice that I have remained silent throughout this process.

Yes. Should I be surprised?

So now we move on to Tuesday 18^th October, another day which, in reality, did not really start until late afternoon. I was fortunate enough to visit France in March 2011, and more specifically the Aah Les Déferlantes Festival of North American Francophone Song, which took place in Portes-les-Valence, in the Rhone Valley. It was a wonderful week, during which I was privileged to see a stunning collection of artistes, mainly from Québec, Acadie and Manitoba. Some I had been lucky enough to see before here in Montréal: Geneviève Toupin, Damien Robitaille, Les Surveillantes and Luc de Larochelliere. Others were new to me: Richard Desjardins, Gaelle, Danny Boudreau, Suroit et Le Vent du Nord....

I noticed the 'et' crept in there again

and Le Vent du Nord. There is one particular name missing from that list, the name of the person on which this posting will focus: Catherine Major. Having booked tickets to see all of the concerts during the week, and by way of preparation, I had watched videos of Catherine performing, and was very impressed by her singing and artistry at the piano. I was delighted therefore to be able to see her perform twice in one day once in a solo 'showcase' in FNAC in Valence. (FNAC is a bit like our HMV in England) and then later on stage with Mathieu, an outstanding double-bass and electric bass player. For me Catherine's was one of the top four performances of the week. So when I knew I was coming back here to Montréal, I was delighted to read on Facebook that she was to launch her new album “Le désert des solitudes” on 18^th October, and that the launch was to be at l'Astral, a venue just five minutes from my hotel. Initially it seemed that the Facebook event notice was the invitation to attend the launch, but Catherine quickly let her 'followers' know that it was in fact to be a private affair restricted to invited guests. In order that some of her fans could join family, friends, media and music industry guests, she set up a competition which would result in a 'tirage' – a drawing out of names from un chapeau. Twenty lucky winners would each receive two tickets.

My luck in raffles, draws and lotteries is not outstandingly good. I entered the draw, but held out little hope. Now it just happened that a very special resident of St. Denis-sur-Richelieu had asked me about my plans for my stay and when I had mentioned the draw for tickets to see be present at the launch, she had offered to help, if she could. She could, and she did! A telephone call to Miss C.Major's management resulted in two tickets being placed for me at the welcome desk. I think she may be reading this, so thank you again Mme D.

I had invited Michel to come with me, and so at 16.56 we entered l'Astral on rue Ste Catherine and joined other guest as they filed into the auditorium. It was already busy with TV crews setting up their equipment and press photographers milling about with weighty cameras and long lenses, but was packed by 18.00, when the lights dimmed. A space opened up in front of Michel and I, so we advanced! It must have been one of the best vantage points in the room, a fact reinforced by the number of press photographers who later stood in front of us and each other. My tiny Panasonic Lumix was able to zoom past their heads, and so I was able to get some photographs and videos, which I share with you here. Catherine opened by paying tribute to all of those involved in the production of her album and to the musicians on stage. At that point my battery failed, so I had to swiftly replace it The show was not long – only a few songs, but beautiful songs, wonderfully performed by Catherine and her musicians.

It was short, but very sweet! Afterwards we decided to hang about to see if we could get our albums signed, and for me to deliver a special message to Catherine. It may or may not surprise some readers to know that Catherine Major has quite a following in Russia, part of the Russian love-affair with Québec and all things québecoises. So I had been asked, if it was possible, to pass love and greetings from her Russian fans. We waited for a while until she had completed her TV interviews, and had changed from her beautiful red dress into smart, casual.

Very smart, casual!

Oh, you're still here. Yes, very smart, casual. She was talking to someone so we waited patiently, and then she turned, looked at me, and there was a sign of recognition.

You're kidding me!

No, it's true, she recognised me from Valence, not my name, but my face.

Ah yes, once seen, never forgotten.

So we spoke briefly about Valence, and then about her Russian fans. She was genuinely surprised that she has followers there, and was delighted to hear the news. So I passed on their love to her, Michel took a photo and we left.

I walked back to the car-park where Michel had left his car and took my leave of him there. An excellent companion. Merci à toi Michel!

My route back to the hotel took me past Benelux, and it was just after 20.00.

So obviously you walked straight past and went back to the hotel?

Er.. no. I went in and took a seat at the bar, ordering a pint of Sabotage, an IPA at 7%. I was looking at the images on my camera when someone tapped me on the arm. A young lady who was sitting two seats away from me asked if I would mind looking after the two seats next to me, and her coat and bag, while she went to the 'bathroom'. I agreed, but was unsuccessful in protecting her seat from a guy who sat on it with his back to me and didn't seem to hear my protest. When she returned I apologised for failing in my duty. She told me it didn't matter about the seat, she was just concerned about her things. So she proceeded to sit next to me. Two and a half hours later, we parted having spent that period of time in conversation. What an amazing young woman, with a wisdom way beyond her 23 years. I simply can't imagine that happening in South Shields. It turned out that Corinne is the room-mate of the young lady who had offered me that glass of barley wine on Saturday evening, and whose name I now know is Carmellina. It's a small world. I am not going into detail into what we talked about, but there were moments when I felt that she knew me better than I do. Quite remarkable! I

You haven't mentioned how pretty she was.

No, and I wasn't going to.

Having exchanged email addresses and blog addresses, we had a quick hug and I made my way back to my hotel, feeling slightly closer to being 23 than I had when I entered Benelux. It's the same when I communicate with my young friends in Russia – miraculously the years seem to drop away.

Climbing back up the stairs to the room soon put them back on again, even it if it is just one floor.

Trust you!