Calvi, day & night VI

Lumio, plage Diesel In Casa


Thursday 11 July: last musical day on the rock. While the Théâtre de verdure has made a vow of silence for a long and sweet year, a few irreducible extend the festivities on the beach Diesel In Casa, the only animated spot of the day. Traditionally, the closing party will take place there the same evening, shaken by a selection of ultra-pointed djs and a swarm of festive forces with unorthodox inclinations.

Although undermined by the spectre of the departure, it is with all the satisfaction of the accomplished duty that we open the door of our holiday to the discontinuous blows of the cleaning woman, who has been trying in vain, for a good 30 minutes, to break our quietude. Circumspection. The suitcases close as quickly as they were opened, but now accommodate only a handful of textile balls scented with hot sand. We tell ourselves that the poor lady has work, almost as much as our dry cleaners on Rue du Faubourg St Denis. Check-out.

Greg Boust invites us to his villa in Lumio for a big “merguez party”. At the end of a path crossing the maquis, we discover a sublime little mas, flanked by a picturesque low granite wall pierced with unevenly curved arches. Once is not usual, we are late, and everyone is already there. The vision that the twilight then offers us deserves its ton of superlatives, and the bloody sun disappears behind the impeccable straightness of the horizon. Josephine de la Baume is subjugated by the scene, we are subjugated by Josephine de la Baume, but nobody is subjugated by us. One wonders how to complete the circle. About ten TDA djs joined the party, Whitest Boy Alive too, not so white, who delighted us the day before. Camera on the shoulder, we isolate ourselves a few cables from the farmhouse to take stock of his Calva experience. Nicolas Bedos, whose illustrious father lives in the nearby sanctuary, comes to greet us in beautiful company. He tells us that he is going on set for four months, and that this island retreat is indispensable to him. We understand that.

While a few reckless boreal owls venture into the rocky midnight bath, we head to our final bacchanal to join faunas, menads, and other local creatures. Bye-bye Lumio.

Photos: Jean Picon et Virgile Guinard
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