I forgot to mention that when we were at L’Emotion Bar in Caudiès last Friday night, we noticed a chart, made from cardboard covered in red paper, marked into 96 squares; 16 across by six rows.

Many of the squares had a person’s (first only) name written inside them. Not all of them were full. The heading on the chart had the words Tombola and Nöel and €2 symbol.

Next to this chart was a box of goodies that looked as if they could be the prize for this game – Tombola.

By the way, that TV screen in the background runs all the time the bar is open (and perhaps even when it is not) with the most seductive and dreadful music clips ever. Many of them in English.

Did I mention I am over 60???

Anyway, in Australia, we call  a game like this a 100 Club, where 100 tickets are sold and a few are drawn or selected to win the nominated prizes.

I researched what tombola was, as it may have been different to our 100 Club (obviously it was as there were only 96 squares), and I found the following:

Tombola is a board game that originated in southern Italy. It is apparently played mostly at Christmas time and the prizes are usually symbolic. In France however, the term is used to refer to a raffle.

Two days ago I received a message from a friend of our hosts who lives in Caudiès. She had promised to keep us informed of any parties or fun activities that might be on in the village so we did not miss out. Her message told me that L’Emotion Bar was going to be open from 6pm until 9pm on Christmas Eve for the drawing of the tombola, and that she would be there about 8pm and would catch up with us for a Christmas drink.

Mick was excited, as this was a much more suitable time for us to visit the bar, unlike the hours proposed for Christmas Day which was to start at 9pm.

He asked if he could borrow my new beret, a gift from my sister who lives in England for my year in France. How could I decline? He certainly looked the part.

I agreed to go, but I said I did not want to be the first people there again like we were last Friday, and that we should aim to be there at 6.30pm.

Well, we arrived at 6.30pm just as Marius, the bar owner, was switching the OPEN lights on. And yes, we were the first ones there.

After Mick bought the first round, I asked Marius if we could buy some tickets in the tombola, as I was unsure if it was only for the locals, and he indicated we could. So I handed over €10 and went to write my name in five squares. But, what too write? No one knows us, and there was a distinct chance we would not be there for the draw. In the end, I decided on “Jane (Australia)” and proceeded to randomly fill in about half of the remaining empty squares. No one checked, I actually could have filled them all in!

Mick and I were pleased to see a few more people arrive around 7pm, some we recognised from last Friday evening, and then by about 8pm the numbers had swelled to about 20 people.

Mostly men, with many of them standing out the front of the Bar enjoying a smoke and a chat. I was interested to observe the etiquette as a new person or couple met the group of smokers as they passed by to enter inside the warm, smoke-free bar. Some shook hands and others cheek-kissed both cheeks. I was discussing with Mick (in a very quiet voice) why there was a different greeting for different people, just as a gentleman entered the bar and cheek-kissed the fellow beside Mick, said “bon soir” to Mick and then proceeded to cheek-kiss me. He soon realised his mistake as I proffered the wrong cheek to him first. I was not who he thought I was. He did apologise (I think, as it was in French).

I am a big fan of cheek kissing (which is more like lightly touching your cheek, one at a time, with the other person’s cheek). Better I think than the way Australians greet family – usually with a kiss on the lips or one cheek – it varies and therefore it can be confusing, particularly for nephews and such like who don’t know what to do and do not really want to get a (sloppy) kiss from an old aunty.

Wikipedia helped define cheek kissing for me…..

Cheek kissing is a ritual or social kissing gesture to indicate friendship, family relationship, perform a greeting, to confer congratulations, to comfort someone, to show respect, or to indicate sexual or romantic interest.

A handshake is usually used when meeting a stranger, while the cheek kiss (faire la bise) is saved for family, friends or acquaintances.

And, I also learnt there is a correct order for the double cheek kiss. Most common (if you are the initiator) is to kiss the other person’s cheek on your left (their right). And, if being cheek kissed, one should offer his or her right cheek first. This is where I went wrong and where I gave it away to the French chap who had cheek kissed me, as I was neither a family member or a friend and in fact we had never met before.

Around 8.30pm, our host’s friend appeared – Mick actually asked for her to cheek kiss him as he felt left out from earlier. Oh, we did giggle.

By then there were about 40 people crammed inside the small bar. Some of whom I recognised from the New Year’s Eve party we attended two years earlier in the same bar.

By this time, Mick had noticed that no one, except him, was paying for their drinks. Marius was shouting the whole town, or at least those who had come out for the drawing of the tombola. I reasoned with Mick by saying it was probably a ‘reward’ or thank you to all the locals who supported Marius all year, and as we’d only been there twice in the last two years, we could hardly be counted amongst that group. But not long after I said that, Mick was offered, and accepted a free glass of wine. As I was the driver, I of course declined, but was relieved Mick now was not feeling too left out.

I noticed one of the few woman there call for her four-year-old daughter, Lulu, to help her cut up the 96 squares and place them into a wine cooler.

It was getting close, and it looked like we would be there for the draw.

The first prize, the box of goodies shown in the first photo, was won by the local shop owner and his wife. The second prize, which was a dinner for two cooked by Marius himself (he actually is an excellent chef), was won by an English couple who live in the village, but who were not there. Mick was surprised Marius didn’t ask Lulu to do a re-draw. But no, Marius told friends of the lucky pair who we were chatting with at the time, to make sure to tell their friends they were winners. Then came the drawing of the third prize. Lulu put her hand into the wine cooler and handed the piece of paper to Marius, as before, but this time, he looked in my direction indicating I was the winner of the third prize, a box of three local wines. Jane(Australia) was a winner!!

How exciting! I certainly made a (small) profit on my €10 investment.

As soon as the draw was finished, almost everyone said goodbye and left. It was not quite 9pm. A few were finishing their free drinks as we too said our goodbyes and walked out with our prize.

We had been told that Marius and his family were hosting a private dinner party as soon as the bar was closed, where the meal would be served around 11pm.

Even if we do become better friends with Marius in the remaining time we have here, I doubt whether I could ever make one of his private meals. I’d be fast asleep.