We have a result!

Our voters don't like change either...

... which did not go our way unfortunately. After an exciting election campaign and an exhausting election day, I'm still too knackered to go to zumba!

Thus the peuple voteth, spurred by Fear that the Agglo Cometh, and reminded at every opportunity by the outgoing maire of the Dangers of Change. In fact, the Agglo cometh not and there'll be change whoever's in charge because of national social housing regulations and building contracts already signed, but let's not nitpick...

The run-up to the election was mad. We dashed around delivering tracts, going door-to-door, having meetings, and culminating in a public meeting in the sports hall. After a tentative start, the questions started and one guy provided endless entertainment and ambiance by keeping on and on with his question oblivious to the fact that he hadn't understood one word of the explanation presented previously.

There were members of the other team there too who did their best to rabble rouse, but all it did was encourage gales of laughter and much noise from the partisan members of the audience. I never knew politics could be such fun!

I did two runs of delivering pamphlets (tracts) on Wednesday and Friday, hurrying up and down the hilly roads to post them all between working hours. I didn't need the zumba that week!

Sunday was Election Day. I spent four hours collecting signatures from voters after they'd voted, in the official register aide by a nifty ruler than had a window the exact size of the box to be signed. The person next to me read out the page number and voter number and name so I really couldn't get it wrong! At the end of four hours though, my head was reeling with a jumble of figures.

We had been told not to leave the table to partake of the buffet laid on by the mairie. You never know what might happen... So I ate before my stint and waited until I'd finished to grab a coffee and slice of apple tart. A peek in the fridge showed a tray of charcuterie and another of cheeses which looked really good. Had I been alone in the room I might have grabbed a doggy bag (as I paid for it out of my taxes!), but I was not, so sadly shut the fridge door.

When 6pm arrived, I was on duty to count the votes! First the number of signatures had to correspond to the number of envelopes before we could get our hands on them. Then the envelopes were gathered into bigger envelopes in groups of ten. With nothing missing or added, we set up tables of four to count the votes. The room was teaming with members of the voting public who were monitoring closely what was going on. They made quite a noise too.

I was ticking off the votes as they were called out by the woman on the other side of the table. The woman next to her was opening the envelopes, and the woman next to me was also ticking things off. We got to the end and already had an inkling of the final result but were not allowed to say anything to anyone outside the room - no text messages, no calls giving an indication of the result. Serious stuff!

The final result was revealed back in the sports hall. We didn't do too badly in the end, getting just over 42% of the votes. The turnout was much better than average. The fact that there were two lists motivated people to brave the biting wind. As a new team, we did well. My DB reminded me that politics is a long-term game and we had only been really active for a couple of months. Five of our team are on the local council, and the rest of us will be following progress and providing a robust opposition - critical in a democracy even if it annoys the hell out of the new maire.

I know of one maire who decided to step down after two mandates because he said he had come to the point where he knew the files so well, he couldn't stand being criticised or opposed. Better leave while the going is good than cling on and get increasingly tyrannical. More maires should follow his example. In fact, there ought to be a limit to the number of consecutive mandates permitted.

So I will not be on the council this year, but I have really enjoyed the whole process, and made some really good friends who I'll be seeing on a regular basis as we develop into a viable opposition. As our candidate said in his final speech: we won everything except the election.

We'll be back...

Municipopolis

Just back from whizzing about Italy on a motorbike, and I find it's all happening in Municipopolis with just ten days to go before the VOTE.

Yesterday I was out with another member of the list doing door-to-door visits. This is a good way of really getting to the heart of local issues because people will talk face-to-face much more than they will in a general meeting. The personal touch is appreciated too. By most.

One guy didn't want to talk to us. Either he is a staunch opposer of our (obviously terrifying) team, or he thought we were aliens come to abduct him. Or he didn't want to be bothered by all that politics malarkey. Everyone else was absent, it being half term.

Well, not quite. We did have a good chat with one guy who lives in an idyllic spot at the end of a lane with fields on one side and one other house in the neighbourhood. He is very happy with his lot as well he might be.

Following the door-to-door, I attended the public part of a local council meeting, but not for long. About five minutes in fact, just the time to hear the resignations of three members of the council who are on our list (including the mayoral candidate) and we were out.

We - the other listers - were there to give The Three moral support, and we were so numerous extra chairs had to be brought in. We created quite a rumpus.

Then it was down to the election office for a bit of knees-up. Well, we were all present, things had gone as they should, and it seemed a shame to drift off back home. So we got out the wine and snacks and made the most of the rest of the evening. That's what I like about this team - they are very merry and up for an apero at every opportunity.

I'm finding that being on the team is a great way to meet other people in the village. Even if we don't win the election, it'll be a personal win for me as I'm having a very entertaining time and meeting some interesting, friendly neighbours.

Yer Man meets le People

If you live in France, you'll know that there's no avoiding hearing about the municipal elections next year. As a Brit and therefore one of the happy EU family (*cough*), I am allowed to vote. I am not allowed to vote in national elections despite the fact that I pay taxes and have been living here for donkey's years. In my opinion there should be no representation without taxation (give or take the odd exception) but no one listens to me.

Anyway, I signed up at the mairie to be added to the electoral list because I'd like to participate in the next local elections and do my tiny bit for 'democracy' (not that there's much of that left in France any more but that's another story).

The current maire has an Italian name and would not look out of place in a mafia baron mansion in Sicily. He has charisma and class and is a wily politician who's managed to stay in the hot seat for decades. Hardly a spring chicken, he now wants to move to a bigger seat in the local commune and leave the stress and hassle of being maire to another.

Never one to leave anything to chance however, he has endorsed the next wannabe maire, his poulain, and is doing absolutely everything in his power - which is a lot - to make electors want to vote for him. Last night, he put the local sports hall at his disposition for a meeting to which the village was invited. Wouldn't like to hazard a guess as to who paid for this but I have my suspicions...

I arrived late because I had something more important to do beforehand. The sports hall had been transformed with a stage, and two screens to show the natty little presentation that had been prepared by yer man. It was pretty packed but I managed to find a seat, funnily enough behind the neighbour who lives up the road, whose better half was on the stage as one of the campaign team. He's the campaign guru I heard, the one at the hub of things directing strategy, manipulation and, presumably, cups of tea coffee.

Next to him was some other bloke who I'd never seen before and as I arrived late missed knowing what he was doing there. I presume he is also part of the team which is aimed at reducing the average age of the council by a couple of decades.

The current maire was next to him looking very much like he had everything under control, and standing next to him was the wannabe maire who was leaning on a lectern which I thought might collapse under the strain. I have a hard time remembering his name. I keep calling him Cahuzac which is a shame because Jérôme "les yeux dans les yeux" Cahuzac is a disgraced former Budget Minister who was accused of tax fraud earlier this year.

Anyway, it's something like that, possibly like the name of that water which has the advert with a pale child with pale blue eyes running over the moors who holds a glass of crystal clear liquid and speaks in Breton. Le Wannabe, however, is nothing like her. I felt quite worried for him actually. He obviously has a copiously-stuffed expense account and makes good use of it. When he speaks, in his extremely local accent, he snuffles and snorts and it's as though the act of speaking standing up even puffs him out. It looked like he could have a heart attack at any moment! Actually he reminded me of John Nettles in the very last episode of Midsomer Murders, only fatter.

So what did he say? Well, I take anything that any politician says with several shovels of salt because they are known for going back on their promises post-election. So basically I was listening with only half an ear because that is all a politician's words are worth.

As a person, he did not fill me with confidence as he looks so unfit (and probably snores) physically. The other hopeful, the local pharmacist, is in much better shape and has the advantage that everyone knows him (and he knows the contents of their Carte Vitale).

At the end, some other retiring member of the municipal team got up to whinge a bit about the fact that the pharmacist is daring to stand in opposition to the maire's wannabe, mainly because, it seems, he once said that he would never stand for maire, but changed his mind. Shock horror, a man who changes his mind! He should meet my DB! He changes his mind every 5 minutes.

So, there you have it. I can see it's going to get pretty exciting around here in the new year as the campaigns hot up, if Le Wannabe survives through his Christmas Eve orgy of animal fat and strong liquor...