1986: My Happy Life in Provence

Chapter 526 The Happy Lourmaran

Before coming to Bonnillo to participate in the goat race, Ronan had talked many times with the people of Lourmaran about this local traditional event.

In his limited knowledge of Provençal culture, he apparently had never heard of any local competition that had lasted for over 100 years; only events like the Nice Carnival had been held for more than 100 years.

The Camargue bullfighting festival is an S-level event in Provence, but it has only existed for a little over 30 years, a fraction of the length of a goat race.

This made Ronan very curious: why could a goat race, which didn't involve much professional expertise, exist for so long and still be held in such a lively manner every year?

The Lourmaran people offered many versions of the answer, but Pierre's answer impressed Ronan the most.

Pierre said that during the annual goat race, the audience felt no tension, only exhilarating excitement, drawn by the bizarre, slow-paced, yet unpredictable and comical event.

Throughout the competition, the most anticipated element was the absurd and joyful atmosphere; the outcome was secondary. It was only with Ronan's participation this year that the concept of victory and defeat came into play.

To a certain extent, the Bonnillo goat race is actually a rural carnival disguised as a competition, but in reality a celebration of the festivities. Its core is similar to that of a carnival, but the goat race has an added rural element compared to the Nice Carnival, which is why it is especially popular with the locals.

Every year, everyone eagerly anticipates this collective entertainment activity with its strong local flavor.

This year, Ronan participated as a jockey, and his understanding of Pierre's words deepened even more. What the people of Provence love to see is this uncontrolled, absurd madness.

After the commentator announced this year's new "fun," the jockeys' first reaction was to rush over and catch the sheep. You know, if the colors are not too different, it takes a while to find your rider among 20 sheep.

But before the jockeys could burst into action, a large crowd had already rushed towards the temporary sheep pen on both sides of the street, hoping to secure a VIP seat.

A dozen or so children were left far behind by the adults.

However, this didn't stop them from running and shouting excitedly.

"Come quick! They're catching sheep! This is even more exciting than the race; running after them during the race is exhausting."

"See how huddled all those sheep are? It's really hard to separate them. This year's rules are fantastic!"

"Will the riders start fighting? I'm tired of sheep fighting, I want to see people fight!!"

An amateur is an amateur.

Although Ronan's starting reaction wasn't slow, he couldn't outrun those 200-pound strongmen. He was mercilessly jostled around on the not-so-wide street like a bumper car. By the time he reached the sheep pen, the people and sheep inside were in complete chaos.

Don't panic when something happens; observe the situation first.

The 20 sheep left their familiar rider and were taken to an unfamiliar place, instinctively huddling in a corner of the makeshift sheepfold.

Some jockeys are lucky; their riders are on the outermost edge, and all they have to do is lead the sheep away from the flock. The difficulty lies in how to "persuade" the riders who have their heads buried in the rear ends of other sheep to obey.

At this point, it comes down to who has the greater strength.

"Look! Someone's having a tug-of-war with their sheep!" The children jumped and shouted encouragement, "1, 2—1, 2—"

A skinny young man, clearly unable to win the tug-of-war, tried to solve the problem using his clever mind.

He pretended to be deep in thought, and taking advantage of the sheep's unpreparedness, he pounced on it, trying to grab its neck and control it with his whole body. But the little sheep nimbly jumped and dodged him, then burrowed into an even deeper place.

"Hahaha, this guy's face turned green, he's furious!" The Provençal onlookers chatted and laughed with those around them in their local dialect.

Some riders are unlucky; to catch their own sheep, they need to deal with the 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 sheep in the middle first.

They attempted to summon their players by calling out their names.

From gentle, patient guidance to extreme temptation, then to anxious coaxing, then to the collapse of reason, angry roars, and frantic hysteria, the people in Mena Village 20 kilometers away heard it all, but they still couldn't call the sheep.

"Oh dear, this child has vomited. Quickly, pour him some wine to calm him down." A kind-hearted woman laughed so hard she couldn't stand up straight as she watched a jockey dry heaving on the sheep pen.

There was a jockey who was ruthless and didn't talk much.

You can't get him to come by calling.

We can't get past it.

They can't catch them, let alone capture them.
Let's get practical.

He suddenly knelt down on one knee, completely stunning everyone in the audience, even the experienced commentators were caught off guard:
"Is this jockey going to propose on the spot? And the person he's proposing to is—"

Before he could even utter the word "sheep," the jockey lowered his other knee and, lying on the ground, scrambled past several sheep in quick succession.

The commentator was laughing so hard he couldn't speak, unable to utter a single professional comment. He could only laugh 'hiahiahia' into the microphone, and his laughter drifted over the small village through dozens of loudspeakers in the streets of Bonnillo.

But this is a true reflection of Bonigno at this moment—no matter where you are, no matter which jockey or which sheep you are looking at, you can make people burst into laughter.

"God, I love Bonito to death."

"I absolutely love the goat race."

"What I want to see is the comical scene of 'ineffective communication' between these people and sheep. You guys better step up your game!"

An amateur is an amateur.

Ronan also laughed heartily in the sheepfold, mainly because he was so engrossed in watching from his VIP position that he was too tired to catch any sheep.

"What? I thought they were so professional, but they're still at the same point as me where 'calling for help is useless'," Ronan thought with amusement.

He thought only Huhu Yiyang was used to being arrogant and disrespectful.

Looking at it today, it turns out that no one can truly 'control' the sheep.

Several jockeys were in the same boat as Ronan, and they all stood at a distance to watch, practically clapping and cheering.

As they laughed, they would occasionally glance at each other and exchange a few words in tacit understanding.

Is this your first year participating?

"Yes, yes, it's your first year participating, is it too?"

"Yeah, this is my first year participating too. This year is too chaotic. Let's wait until these professional ones are dealt with before we start dealing with them."

"I thought so too—"

Before the words were even finished, the jockeys in the VVVVIP area scattered in panic and fled.

In the midst of the chaotic battle between humans and sheep, a white figure flew towards them like a cannonball.

"Get out of the way! The sheep are startled! They're going to run over people!!" Someone shouted, and everyone in the entire flock stopped moving.

They looked closely and realized that the shell had hit the most amateur among the 20 men.

"Hey you on horseback, get out of the way! It's going to crash into us!"

Ronan panicked for a moment.

Reason told him to get away quickly, but emotion told him that Huhu probably wasn't there to attack him. It was so quiet and affectionate today, why would it bump into him?
In the end, emotion prevailed over reason. Ronan stood still, leaning on the railing behind him, but the whoosh of the gun didn't slow down at all.

As the distance closed, Ronan could see Huhu's condition clearly; its blood-red eye sockets were exactly the same as when it fought with Marseille.

"Meow meow meow meow meow—" the shell let out an angry howl.

This time, Ronan actually understood:

Why didn't you come to see me? Don't you know I'm feeling insecure today?

"I'm on my way!" Ronan assumed a defensive stance and moved to the side.

Even if Huhu was angry, it wouldn't have dared to hit Ronan; it turned at a very close distance.

The idea of ​​humans and sheep being one might be a beautiful story in betting materials.

But in this context, it would be a disaster.

Huhu and Ronan chose the same direction to escape—the sheep and the human still met. The person was completely terrified.

But sheep are much more useful than humans, and in the critical moment, Huhu chose to crawl between someone's legs.

Ronan was wearing riding attire today; his corduroy breeches were so tight he couldn't even spread his legs.

After failing to squeeze between the sheep's legs, Ronan jumped into the air and then sat directly on the sheep's back and started "running".

Some scientists say that when people encounter emergency danger, they enter a state of "time perception distortion," also known as "time dilation effect." This means that the brain activates a "self-preservation" mode, and things in front of them slow down infinitely, just like the classic scene in "The Matrix."

Ronan entered this magical state at that moment. As he soared high into the air, he saw the children outside the sheepfold looking up with envy, the tourists with their mouths agape in terror, their tongues even vibrating, and the locals on both sides of the street waving their beer at each other in their excitement.
Madness, endless madness.

Amidst laughter that resembled that of a pig, the on-site commentator shouted intermittently:
"Our number 6 is truly a 'rider,' he actually rode a sheep! It seems this outfit was planned all along!!"

Ronan's act of riding a goat was undoubtedly the scene that the people of Provence most wanted to see at the goat race, and the cheers were even more enthusiastic than if a top celebrity were present.

Thanks to the cheering crowd, Ronan finally returned to reality.

Overload had only one thought in his mind—he had to get off the plane quickly!
The goats of Provence are small in size, with adult males weighing only 60-70 kilograms.

They can indeed withstand additional loads close to or exceeding their own body weight, but Freddie said that goats have long, slender lumbar vertebrae, and continuous pressure could lead to permanent spinal damage, and Ronan's weight was certainly greater than Huhu's safe load-bearing capacity.

He didn't want Huhu to get injured during the sheep-catching process, because today's Bonio belonged to the Lourmaran people!

Fortunately, the size of the sheepfold and Ronan's weight limited Huhu's speed. Ronan only stayed on Huhu's back for two or three seconds before stopping.

At this moment, the jockeys who had been watching the spectacle finally couldn't help but applaud Ronan:
"You really make us amateurs proud. Dude, you used to ride horses, right? That back-mounting move was so skillful."

Ronan had no time for pleasantries with his fellow sufferers. The moment one foot touched the ground, he bent down and grabbed the whistling rope. The instant his second foot landed, he and the sheep were launched forward. Though they stumbled a few steps, they won a round of applause.
"Open the door! I've caught a sheep! Let us out!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, the first jockey to catch a goat has appeared! Jockey number 6 has caught his partner with a beautiful, action-movie-like move and is the first to enter the track. Let's cheer for him!" The commentator sat up straight, finally getting into the swing of things. "Now I declare the 143rd Goat Race officially open! Let's get ready for a celebration!"

The sheep-catching segment was indeed a huge obstacle before the main competition.

But that doesn't mean that once you catch the sheep, there will be no other obstacles.

Most of the sheep were frightened and remained motionless even after leaving the pen, staring blankly at their surroundings.

A very small number of naturally active sheep remember their mission, but along the way, the bread in the child's hand, the wildflowers by the roadside, the lettuce on the table, or the camera will all become their stumbling blocks.

Another contestant similar to Hu Hu appeared in this competition.

Its rider went through many hardships and finally caught the sheep, but the cute little guy ran happily in the opposite direction as soon as it came out. No matter how the owner tried to stop it, he couldn't. Then three or four big men joined in, and a group of people hurriedly intercepted it before they succeeded.

“Look, it’s that bearded guy. He’s the one who took revenge and wrote Hu Hu’s historical record like that.” Ronan stood on the terrace of a café near the finish line, leisurely fanning himself with his helmet. “But he’s smarter this year. He intervened immediately and didn’t have to search for three hours in Bonnio.”

Zoe stood side by side with Ronan:
"Obviously, his attempt to settle a personal score failed. You were the favorite in the odds and easily won this year's championship. Freddie said that this is quite rare these days."

There is no suspense.

Thanks to their outstanding performance in the goat-catching segment, Ronan and Huhu won the goat race with an overwhelming advantage.

Running a lap around the main road of Bonnillo is only a little over 3 kilometers. After long-term special preparation, the speed of one person and one sheep completing the task is very fast.

Ronan was already heading for the finish line with Huhu, while a few unlucky jockeys and sheep were playing the ridiculous game of 'you can't touch me' in the sheepfold.

"Hey, by the way, where's Freddy?" Ronan turned around and found that there was no one behind him.

Where did all these Lourmaran people go?

Zoe pointed in a direction and said with a smile:
"After you crossed the finish line, these people lost interest in watching the rest of the race and started blocking the organizing committee's door asking when they could withdraw their money."

Blessed Toronan.

The people of Lourmaran made a fortune today.

Although the final odds are low, they are still quite good when people place bets.

Pierre and others who placed bets at the opening bell bought hundreds and made several thousand.

However, the ones who made the most money were Ronan and Zoe, who placed their bets later; the two of them earned tens of thousands of francs.

Ronan's happiness at this moment was only partly due to making money; he was happier about the atmosphere and the joy of being gathered with his good friends.

We won the game and everyone made money, which is definitely worth celebrating. Most importantly, we want to thank everyone for coming to the stadium to support us.

Ronan turned and went downstairs:

"I'll go to the boss and ask him not to serve any other guests at noon; I'll treat everyone to lunch."

He's the one who earns the most, so he has an obligation to pay the bill!
But when Ronan found the owner of the coffee shop, he said apologetically:
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ronan, this place has been booked out for the day."

"You booked it for the whole day?" Ronan asked, frowning.

While it's common for venues to be booked out during major events, booking an entire day for the event is not a common occurrence.

The main issue is that renting out a fairly large coffee shop for the whole day costs a lot of money.

As Ronan was wondering which wealthy man had gotten ahead of him, a girl appeared in front of him.

"Hello, Ronan," the girl greeted Ronan.

Ronan found it a bit strange.

He was certain he had never seen this girl before, yet she seemed somewhat familiar; this disconnect was incredibly strange.

The girl smiled and pointed outside the door:
"The boss said she was grateful to you for making her a lot of money, and she treated the Lourmaran to a day out in Bonnie, with all the food and drinks provided."

Ronan followed her finger and noticed a particularly familiar figure among the crowd outside the door, who were swaying to the music—blonde hair, brown sunglasses, a fine mustache, and dressed in designer clothes.

Ronan's eyes widened in surprise:
"Charlotte—"

“Yes, Charlotte!” Charlotte’s assistant, who had met Ronan once before, stopped Ronan from saying his full name and waved goodbye. “We’re leaving now. The boss is going to an open-air ball. She likes the Farandol dance.”

Ronan smiled and shook his head.

Yes, Charlotte is the highest earner among the Lourmaran people today.

She's the biggest winner!

Ronan turned and went upstairs to tell Zoe the good news. Just as he left, a little boy rode by on a sheep, followed by several other children of the same age.

"It's my turn to ride. You've already ridden several laps."

"I don't want to go down there, that guy is so handsome."

"Yes, that person was like a great hero. I want to ride a sheep to and from school too."

Ronan told everyone that a mystery guest had booked the entire café, and everyone could eat and drink for free until evening.

The villagers didn't care at all who the mystery guest was; all they wanted was to have an endless celebration on this joyous day in every sense of the word!
As the sun set, Bonío had long since vanished from the match.

String lights illuminated the café terrace, and the air was filled with the aroma of wine and beef stewing in earthenware pots.

Dozens of Lourmaraners, holding wine glasses, danced the lively Farandol dance, their laughter and songs continuing until the stars filled the sky.

"Who are they? They've been jumping all day."

"We don't know who they are, we only know they are a group of Lourmaran people."

"What a happy group of Lourmaran people!"

(End of this chapter)