"I didn't want to come to your grandpa thing," exclaims Louis, 9, banging a can of Breizh Cola.
She rolls to the feet of her father who, overwhelmed by the attitude of his offspring, grumbles: “I already told you!
It is as good for children as for adults.
It's not just bagpipes and…” The little one isn't listening to him anymore.
A man in a kilt has just passed by him.
He has big eyes, Louis.
His cone of fries almost falls.
He did not expect such encounters when he set foot at the Interceltic Festival of Lorient (FIL) in Morbihan, during his first weekend, in August.
We neither.
We couldn't imagine waking up to the sound of binious, reading Breton on each panel and meeting women with traditional headdresses.
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