Sad, isn’t it, when a couple of hours in a bar warrants a special mention? But the French, or at least those of my age, don’t really do going out in the evening. Once the sun goes down, the shutters do the same, which can make evenings seem quite long. And for all the effort I’ve made, joining various clubs, I only see the people at those clubs; it seems quite difficult to make proper friends.

Last Tuesday, at painting club, Fabienne said that her group was playing at a bar in Dax on Friday, for St Patrick’s day; it’s an Irish group, she plays cello, her husband and another man are multi talented, playing fiddle, mandolin, banjo, guitar and bagpipes between them.

To me it sounded like the perfect excuse, so I asked if anyone would like to come with me; a lot of navel gazing ensued, so I didn’t push it.

I called Beatrice from the cycle club, but she has choir practice on Fridays, so I tried Jean Claude, another single from the cycle club; yes, he’d love to go.

At painting club today, I mentioned it to Francoise, who only does Fridays; she’d ask her partner and the friend they have staying, but liked the idea.

So five of us turned up for what was a lovely evening, the crowd in the bar was noisy and good humoured, the music was excellent and maybe I’ve reinforced another couple of friendships.

Last year, Adrian, the lead guitarist with the band, decided it was time to transform the piece of mahogany he’d had lying about for the last twenty years into a guitar. He’s worked on his own and friends’ guitars for years, improving and repairing them, and is a trained furniture maker, but even so, this would be quite an undertaking. He bought the neck and the electronics and set to work.

We heard reports and occasionally saw photos on how it was progressing over the next few months and I had a hand in choosing the colour, Ade had no idea! ” Red, yellow or blue?” he asked; I was appalled – he couldn’t finish something so elegant in a primary colour! He listened and the resulting shade is beautiful.

Finally, he brought it to rehearsal; he was delighted – it played beautifully and sounded wonderful, but it was far too heavy and very quickly made his shoulder very painful. He realised too late that he should have left cavities in the body.

So he’d make another one, an improved version, having learnt from his first timer mistakes.

Today’s rehearsal was the first for three weeks, the drummer and the lead singer both having been down with man flu. My brother delicately explained to me that this is one of the problems of playing with a geriatric band!

Ade looked particularly smug when he arrived, brand new guitar in his case.

He leaves his pod (for effects) at the studio, so hadn’t yet been able to put the new baby through its paces and was obviously nervous when he plugged it in. This was the moment of truth, as he and Jean Michel programmed the pod.

He needn’t have worried; the electronics in the guitar worked perfectly with those of the pod and he was able to sound like an acoustic or electric, 6-string or 12-string, a Stratocaster, Fender or any number of other makes/styles.

Adrian, being a self proclaimed grumpy old git, isn’t given to bursts of enthusiasm or overt demonstrations of joy, but today was different, he couldn’t stop grinning.