The old houses near the Arros were often photographed and "postcarded" . They deserve it. To admire them, I never get tired of it, either from the bridge or from the opposite bank or from the alley with the plane trees. One knows the mood of Arros from its colours, brown shortly
after a thunderstorm, usually green when the weather is peaceful.
On the Arros formerly, on July 14th, sailed illuminated boats and fireworks -inevitable that day,- closed the fete.
Crossing the bridge, one can straightaway take the road to Bonnet.It takes you to the Wine Cellar. There local guaranteed vintage wines are produced ,the Saint-Mont and a remarkable white wine, the Colombelle. And I do not lie, I usually prefer red wine !One can also turn on the right to go to the swimming pool in summer afternoons. I was twelve years old when it was finished. Imagine my joy and my kid 's excitement ! I owe it so many water pleasures. Sometimes I tell as a joke - am I not a Plaisantin - that I even took part in it in a 50 meter freestyle competition. I finished second. The first was a " dolphin " of the TOEC ",a member of the Dolphins , a club from Toulouse. Do I have to add that he also finished penultimate?At about seven in the evening , coming out of the swimming pool after the effort, when the shade of the large poplars which border the Arros lengthen, there is in the air an impalpable atmosphere, a kind of quiet happiness which elates my heart. Happiness, that's it, I say to myself.
After the bridge on the left, one goes down towards the Arenas. Don' worry, the "Plaisantins" are not savages. We don't kill poor innocent bulls. There one only dodges often black and nervous cows from "the Landes"(a nearby region). It is the "Course landaise" , the "Landaise Race", a spectacle which belongs to the traditions of the Landes and of this Western part of the Gers (Riscle, Aignan, Nogaro, Eauze). I remember having explained this tradition to English or German friends, while miming skilful dodging movements. . The cow runs straight towards you and you dodge the ferocious animal at the last moment. What I actually did not do, not being a professional "dodger". On the other hand,once I was caught by the horns of a cow, during a "Toro-Ball "match - a football match with a wild cow running among the players. It was during an Intervillage* against Riscle or Catelnau Rivière Basse. More fear than harm !*N of Translator: A competition between two villages with lots of (supposed) funny games
Close to the arenas, the USP stadium, a mythical place. I attended many matches. When a child, I dreamed of wearing the yellow and black jersey . How happy I was to collect the ball and to return it with a master kick. Ah! rugby!
What a passion! When one is a supporter, one vibrates intensely. When one is a player, it is such joy of running, tackling, scoring a try. The blows, the so-called brutality, no, really, one does not think of it. The following day, one is a little stiff,that's all... two days later, a bit aching all over.
Next to the stadium, there are the tennis courts , dear to my brother, and a solitary "fronton"*, one is not far from the Basque Country.*N of Translator: The Basques throw a small ball against such a wall, a "fronton".
Behind the stadium, , hardly for a few years ,we have had a splendid lake with calm and full of fish water. A path turns around the lake, which sometimes reflects the sky and the clouds. In the distance, one catches sight of the church steeple between the hedges of poplars and a big oak-tree. A pastoral, idyllic vision , far from noisy cities.
For summer, a fine sand beach was made, water is not transparent but healthy, space is vast for the one who likes to swim; I often go there in summer neglecting the swimming pool of my green years. Holiday makers renting bungalows close by attend the place. They appreciate quietness far from the hubbub of over-populated littoral beaches.
