He saw there was something happening in the big car park at the Henri Gros Gymnase or Sports Centre.
There were horses, so he went for a closer look.
He likes horses.
Then he heard music from the smaller car park behind the Salle des Fêtes.
So he went for a closer look.
He likes music.
There was a stage.
On the stage there was a band.
He likes bands.
There was a dance floor.
On the dance floor, perhaps unsurprisingly, people were dancing.
He doesn’t dance.
Perhaps slightly more surprisingly, everyone was wearing cowboy hats.
There were stalls selling lots of stuff.
Mainly cowboy hats.
He was confused.
Now this is where the absolution of Emmy is important.
Your intrepid but insipid reporter had, and has, no idea whatsoever about what was happening.
He understands that he should have investigated.
Or asked someone.
But, for reasons he cannot explain on this blog, he didn’t.
But, he tells you, it all looked like great fun.
He likes fun.
Emmy tells him to find out what it is, or no peanuts for tea.
He likes peanuts.
This is what it is all about.
He cannot translate it.
And he does not even mention next week’s big event: