This bemused lady is a neighbor of ours to whom we speak every time we walk to the bar. She sits in her doorway taking the evening air, sometimes alone, at other times with two or three other Leran ladies. Every Friday night during the Marche Nocturne Leran she greets us as we head toward the festivities. Thankfully, she is not usually there as we stumble home. I imagine she says to herself as we walk by, "Mon Dieu. Those Americans are going to the bar again tonight?" On the other hand, maybe she is thinking, "Sacre bleu! I am certainly thankful for the great infusion of American dollars to our humble community."
This is the paella vendor with his impressively large cauldron of rice, chicken, shrimp and sausage. You can smell the paella as you round the corner onto Cour St. Jacque. And it's always a hit. He always sold out his entire product, and so did the vendor before him, in the summer of 2007. I always think of paella as exclusively Spanish, and it is, but it is certainly popular in Southern France. Its also very similar to the Creole Jambalaya from old Louisiana where it is served with chunks of ham and whole crayfish. It's not unlike the Mexican dish Arroz con Pollo, either. Whatever its called, it's good.
I imagine Nancy took this picture during the Leran'Cestral when all kinds of people were wandering around Leran in strange costumes from times bygone. And this is by far the largest tricycle I've ever seen.