So for the awards, they do it in groups, all very organized. A tent next to the stage, you show up about 15 minutes early, get checked off, get a number showing what number in line you are (for the record, I was 24th in the 3rd and last group), Thierry was the last, about #40 in the 3rd group). Then you hang out for a while and have a glass of champagne if you wish (I did).
It happened that the winner in M65 was a French guy (Etienne Boussier) I've known for years (and more often than not lost to), he speaks no English, so I did a quick reload on my French skills and chatted with him reasonably competently for a few minutes. Very nice chat.
Until Thierry walked in, at which point he and Etienne got going in French I couldn't hope to keep up with. And Tove arrived, and now it was English between her and Thierry, very good on both sides. And we were getting lined up, and then I remembered I had a camera, so even though the light was bad --
And, hoping this is not impolite to say, she looks better in person than in a picture, quite gorgeous.
And, hard to believe, I kept my mouth shut.
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And then it was time for business, called up in subgroups of 6 or 8, each announced (class, name, and club, sometimes a comment or two). For me the announced gets to my last name, stops, looks at it again, looks at me, asks if I'm Russian. No, I say USA, quite strongly, and that is how it is announced.
M75 was the last of our group (F75 was missing), and then they pass out the prizes, a towel, hey, it's the thought that counts, and then the trumpeter played a short fanfare, more applause, and then off we go.
All both nice and efficient. And certainly OK by me. And I must say, standing there listening to the trumpet, there was very much the feeling that it was something special. That I should, as they say, enjoy the moment.
And I absolutely did.