“Papagayo! Here we are!” said Claire, passing through the doors of Saint-Tropez’s famous harbour club.
Fortunately for our dignity, the music was far too loud for anyone to pay attention to it. We climbed the few steps that took us to the main hall. The place was smaller than I would have thought. Or else, the fact that it was crowded made it more stuffy. I wasn’t a big fan of nightclub nights, but Claire and Danielle insisted on dragging me there. According to them, it was part of the “Saint-Tropez experience”.
A little intoxicated by the delicious rosé wine which we had abused at dinner, I let myself be taken on the dance floor by my two sidekicks. We wiggled to the rhythm of the music, and I gradually forgot my anthropological study of Tropezien revellers. Although the place was full
