Adventures in France Episode 26. Final

The sunny days are icy cold; the leaves are turning glorious shades of yellow through to red; and the birds are lining up on the telephone wires, discussing the best routes south. The time has come for us, too, to head southwards and back to the warmth. We have one week left and at least six moths of ‘things’ to do in it. We have a lot of goodbyes to say, to all the good friends that we have made. Also numerous items that have been so generously lent to us to make life more comfortable, have to be returned. And I now know that none of these activities can take place in a minimum of time. Things happen slowly around here, even goodbyes!
On Wednesday we took our friends Sandra and Kevin to the airport in Biarritz. They had intended flying out for a week arriving the previous Tuesday, in Pau, and returning a week later. However the day before they were due to arrive they received a text message telling them that their flight had been cancelled due to some or other strike. The first alternative booking was for Thursday, which they accepted and we had fetched them from Pau, arranging to return them there the following Tuesday. However, the strikers struck again and their return flight was also cancelled. This time however, the first available flight was on Saturday which was too late for them so they arranged to return from a different airport, namely Biarritz, for which they were charged a penalty – for changing their flight plans!
The trip there was uneventful, but on the way back we got caught up in a huge traffic jam at one of the toll booths. We are still not quite sure what the problem was, but after sitting in a queue for half an hour, we drove past a three kilometer long line of trucks to reach the toll booth and then drove past a five kilometer line of cars and trucks that were going in the opposite direction. Or rather, not going! Perhaps the toll operators had also gone on strike
Thursday was a brilliantly sunny day but with a very cold breeze. A farmer friend brought his Rotavator – a portable engine-driven plough – up to the house and he and Neels turned the weed patch that used to be a vegetable garden into a perfectly tilled area, all ready for re-planting. The same day, Neels cut the lawn, so everything is neat and tidy outside. It was quite sad to have to cut the lawn as it was almost covered with huge patches of cyclamen, and their delicate pale pink and white flowers were so pretty, but they had to go. Tant pis, as they say here “too bad!”
Now it just a case of clearing up, tidying away, washing and cleaning and then next Sunday the 31st, we are off. Thanks to all the people who read my ramblings and more thenks to those who wrote and actually said they enjoyed them. We have had a wonderful experience and I can only hope that you enjoyed hearing about it.

Adventures in France Episode 25

It really is quite hard to believe that in two weeks today we will be climbing aboard a plane for the long trek home again. The six months that we have had here have just flown and we have enjoyed every minute, even the times when we nearly froze with cold and the other times when we were so hot that we thought we would explode. Living, as we have been, in the heart of rural France has been en experience that we have long dreamt of and I’m glad to be able to say that it has fulfilled all our expectations. Apart from being here ourselves, we have also been able to have visitors to stay and to introduce them to some of the gems of the area. The latest of these visitors was my sister and her husband from England, whose visit was real bonus. They are busy with renovations to their house and the trip was very much an ‘on-again-off-again’ item. When finally they found a gap in their occupations and said they were coming, I was over the moon. We fetched them on Sunday night in the pouring rain which continued in a drizzly manner most of the next day. Not a good start for us to show them how beautiful this part of France is. Rain and mist they have plenty of at home! It did give us time to talk though, and to each show the latest batch of holiday photographs. The weather did clear later in the week and I think they enjoyed all that we managed to show them. All too soon it was Friday and time for them to leave again. A real flying visit, but so much enjoyed and appreciated.
By Saturday the weather had become very, very cold and the breeze had a damp, icy nip to it.A load of washing hung out in the morning hadn’t dried by early afternoon and we had to bring it indoors and drape it over drying racks. We had been invited to go and pick grapes again at a neighbouring farm, but we both chickened out. We do not need to get ill at the moment and I am sure we would have both developed colds if we had gone out in that weather, especially in our inadequate clothing. South African winter clothing is not really sufficient to cope with the European winter.
Sunday’s weather forecast had been for a sunny day so we were rather disappointed to awake to grey mist. Happily though, it soon cleared and the promised sun began to shine. It was the day of the Goose Fair at Riguepeu and we had booked to have a meal there. Not that we were in the market for a goose, of course. We were more intrigued to find out what went on there. The town is so small that we couldn’t imagine a fair of any great size taking place there. How wrong could we be?! By the time we arrived, all the parking places in and around the centre of the village had long since been snapped up and we ended up parking a little way off in a field. We walked back into the village and found it to be fairly buzzing with people. I imagine the fair started out as a trading fair but nowadays it is an opportunity for stall-holders of all kinds to display and sell their wares. To be fair, there were some geese for sale, quite a lot in fact, but there was plenty more to see and buy too.
At 12.30 everyone started queuing up for the pre-booked meal and in a relatively short time six hundred meals had been served out and everyone was seated at long tables in a huge shed, enjoying their food and wine. Suddenly a group of men and women sitting at one of the tables broke into song. It transpired that we had a choir among the assembled masses and they entertained us for some time with songs, some of which required us all to stand up, sit down, clap hands or wave a handkerchief in the air. It was all very jolly and I’m sure went on long after we had left. Another experience of village life to add to all our other wonderful experiences.

Adventures in France Episode 24

Adventures in France Episode 24

Two highlights this week, beside which all other activities pale! We were informed, with great glee, some months ago, that we would be expected to take part in the ‘vendange’, the grape picking. Being still the ‘outsiders’ in the community, we smiled and nodded and didn’t expect anything more to come of it. Then on Monday, Ady came over to tell us that she would accompany us on Wednesday morning at 9.30 am, to show us where we would be picking. With some trepidation, we readied ourselves for what lay ahead, not knowing if it was something we were even capable of. When we arrived at the vineyard there were about ten or so other people there, ranging in age from late 30’s to almost 90. If one includes the two children who were running around doing their bit too, the age can be lowered to 6 or 7 years! We were each given a pair of secateurs and pointed sort of in the right direction and off we went. Picking is done from both sides of the vine and the more experienced ones really pick fast, so you have to be fairly careful if you accidentally poke you hand right through the vine to the other side. It is very sociable and everyone chats away merrily. It was soon discovered that these two newcomers amongst them were South Africans who normally spoke English, and then we were gently teased in one way or another. Someone would make a joke, which we obviously didn’t understand, and some one else would shout out ‘Een Eengleesh, pleeze’, which would make them laugh all the more. When we had been picking for a few minutes, surrounded by the clicking of the secateurs, one man said ‘Listen! You should know this. It’s the Click Song’! In spite of all the jollity though, it was quite hard work. The grapes all hang from the bottom of the vine, and although they are trained up on wires, one has to work either on one’s haunches or in a semi-bent position. Towards the end, when we had been at it for nearly three and a half hours, the rows seemed to be getting very long and then, suddenly, we were told to stop. Apparently we had reached the quota set by the ‘cave’, the local co-operative winery. We were very pleased, as there was no way that we would have given up while there were still people far older than ourselves clipping away furiously. All in all, nine four hundred meter long rows had been cut That’s quite a long morning’s walk for yours truly! Everyone then wandered back to the start, collected jerseys and returned clippers and while everyone was still gathered there, the owner of the farm announced that we would now be going to eat – all of us! So we made our way to the farmhouse where we found a long table set out under an awning in front of the house. Sixteen of us sat down to dinner, which turned out to be a five course meal. Before the meal started we were offered water, beer or Floc which is a locally produced sherry type drink. It is delicious but has a fairly high alcohol level. Then the soup arrived in big tureens, and lots of crusty fresh bread. This was followed by a starter of ham slices and chunks of sausage, made, I was told, with pig’s blood.. I didn’t want to appear to be a wimp so I took some and tasted it, and found it surprisingly tasty, but my brain wasn’t completely happy with the idea of what I was putting into my mouth, so I refused any more when the plate came around. After that we had roast duck with vegetables, then a salad and to finish off the most divine dessert I have had for ages. It looked like a little upside down cupcake on the plate, but as soon as it was broken open hot chocolate sauce spilled out. I have asked our hostess for the recipe as I have got to try this. While all this eating was going on, the wine was flowing. There must have been a vat of it somewhere because what appeared on the tale was in two-litre water bottles that still had their Evian labels on! In fact, make that several vats because there was red, white and rosé, and no-one was using wine-glasses, we all had small tumblers. When we had got through all of this, the coffee was served and finally the Armagnac made an appearance. This is a drink which is peculiar to this region and is a distilled wine, similar to schnapps in Germany or to witblits in South Africa. It is about 40% proof and I don’t like it at all, but there are others who can manage to drink large quantities of it. All in all, the day was a wonderful experience, and next year when we buy St Mont wine that says ‘2010, hand-picked’ we will know that some of our effort went into making it.
A couple of days later, ady came to the house again, this time to tell us that the rest of the grapes were being picked by machine if we wanted to see it. We jumped into the car and drove over to the field and watched with amazement as a leviathan of a machine rumbled and roared it’s way up and down the rows. It covered the same area as had taken twelve of us such a long time to hand-pick, in little over ten minutes. The machine shakes and drags at the vines, pulling the grapes off the bunches so that they fall into the big hoppers as individual grapes. However, they get horribly mangled in the process and the resultant mush that gets tipped into the tractor trailer oozes juice all the way to the winery.
Our other highlight of the week was a phone call that we got from my sister in England to say that they were coming to pay us a flying visit for four days. As they are only arriving tonight, I will have to relate our experiences together next week.

Adventures in France Episode 24

Two highlights this week, beside which all other activities pale! We were informed, with great glee, some months ago, that we would be expected to take part in the ‘vendange’, the grape picking. Being still the ‘outsiders’ in the community, we smiled and nodded and didn’t expect anything more to come of it. Then on Monday, Ady came over to tell us that she would accompany us on Wednesday morning at 9.30 am, to show us where we would be picking. With some trepidation, we readied ourselves for what lay ahead, not knowing if it was something we were even capable of. When we arrived at the vineyard there were about ten or so other people there, ranging in age from late 30’s to almost 90. If one includes the two children who were running around doing their bit too, the age can be lowered to 6 or 7 years! We were each given a pair of secateurs and pointed sort of in the right direction and off we went. Picking is done from both sides of the vine and the more experienced ones really pick fast, so you have to be fairly careful if you accidentally poke you hand right through the vine to the other side. It is very sociable and everyone chats away merrily. It was soon discovered that these two newcomers amongst them were South Africans who normally spoke English, and then we were gently teased in one way or another. Someone would make a joke, which we obviously didn’t understand, and some one else would shout out ‘Een Eengleesh, pleeze’, which would make them laugh all the more. When we had been picking for a few minutes, surrounded by the clicking of the secateurs, one man said ‘Listen! You should know this. It’s the Click Song’! In spite of all the jollity though, it was quite hard work. The grapes all hang from the bottom of the vine, and although they are trained up on wires, one has to work either on one’s haunches or in a semi-bent position. Towards the end, when we had been at it for nearly three and a half hours, the rows seemed to be getting very long and then, suddenly, we were told to stop. Apparently we had reached the quota set by the ‘cave’, the local co-operative winery. We were very pleased, as there was no way that we would have given up while there were still people far older than ourselves clipping away furiously. All in all, nine four hundred meter long rows had been cut That’s quite a long morning’s walk for yours truly! Everyone then wandered back to the start, collected jerseys and returned clippers and while everyone was still gathered there, the owner of the farm announced that we would now be going to eat – all of us! So we made our way to the farmhouse where we found a long table set out under an awning in front of the house. Sixteen of us sat down to dinner, which turned out to be a five course meal. Before the meal started we were offered water, beer or Floc which is a locally produced sherry type drink. It is delicious but has a fairly high alcohol level. Then the soup arrived in big tureens, and lots of crusty fresh bread. This was followed by a starter of ham slices and chunks of sausage, made, I was told, with pig’s blood.. I didn’t want to appear to be a wimp so I took some and tasted it, and found it surprisingly tasty, but my brian wasn’t completely happy with the idea of what I was putting into my mouth, so I refused any more when the plate came around. After that we had roast duck with vegetables, then a salad and to finish off the most divine dessert I have had for ages. It looked like a little upside down cupcake on the plate, but as soon as it was broken open hot chocolate sauce spilled out. I have asked our hostess for the recipe as I have got to try this. While all this eating was going on, the wine was flowing. There must have been a vat of it somewhere because what appeared on the tale was in two-litre water bottles that still had their Evian labels on! In fact, make that several vats because there was red, white and rosé, and no-one was using wine-glasses, we all had small tumblers. When we had got through all of this, the coffee was served and finally the Armagnac made an appearance. This is a drink which is peculiar to this region and is a distilled wine, similar to schnapps in Germany or to witblits in South Africa. It is about 40% proof and I don’t like it at all, but there are others who can manage to drink large quantities of it. All in all, the day was a wonderful experience, and next year when we buy St Mont wine that says ‘2010, hand-picked’ we will know that some of our effort went into making it.
A couple of days later, ady came to the house again, this time to tell us that the rest of the grapes were being picked by machine if we wanted to see it. We jumped into the car and drove over to the field and watched with amazement as a leviathan of a machine rumbled and roared it’s way up and down the rows. It covered the same area as had taken twelve of us such a long time to hand-pick, in little over ten minutes. The machine shakes and drags at the vines, pulling the grapes off the bunches so that they fall into the big hoppers as individual grapes. However, they get horribly mangled in the process and the resultant mush that gets tipped into the tractor trailer oozes juice all the way to the winery.
Our other highlight of the week was a phone call that we got from my sister in England to say that they were coming to pay us a flying visit for four days. As they are only arriving tonight, I will have to relate our experiences together next week.

Adventures in France Episode 23

On Monday we could see the still snow-capped Pyrenees when we got up, but at this time of the year it is not supposed to mean rain in three days so we weren’t concerned. Pieter and Jessica had a lot of correspondence to get through but we managed to find a gap during which we drove around and showed them a bit of the countryside. Also on Monday, another cousin of ours had arrived to spend some time with Nicky and as Tuesday was her birthday, all six of us went out to lunch in Marciac, which turned out to be a very jolly affair. When we got back from lunch, Jessica found that she had been sent an email saying that their flight from Barcelona the following day, had been postponed to Thursday, due to a countrywide strike. This caused a huge amount of consternation and subsequent frustration in the Ferreira household as their hire-cars had been on a special price for a certain number of days, which was now exceeded, and the car waiting for them in Mallorca could not be held over for another day without attracting penalties. What a palaver! And really, whatever the strike was about had nothing to do with the airlines anyway, but there you go! That is strikers for you.
However, their misfortune was our good luck and as it turned out, really good luck as the weather changed again and Wednesday was another simply stunning day. I think both of them enjoyed the chance to rest and get over their colds, but in the afternoon we took them off to a local winery to sample some Armagnac. When we arrived we found three other people who had just started a tour, so we joined them and were joined by another three people. Together we made up quite a cosmopolitan lot – two Hawaiians, with their French friend and guide who could speak English; three South Africans and an American; a New Zealander and an English couple one of whom was fluent in French. Whenever our tour guide was stuck for a word, there was always someone who could help her out. It was an interesting tour and we came away with some red wine and some Floc, which is similar to a sweet sherry, but no Armagnac which is quite harsh and to me tastes almost medicinal.
The next day the weather had done a complete turn-around and we had to say goodbye to Pieter and Jessica as they drove off in pouring rain. They soon drove out of the rain though and we later heard that they had arrived back in Mallorca without mishap.
On Friday we had various chores to do in different towns and some time in the afternoon finally turned back towards home but decided to take only backroads. At one point we missed our turning and ended up in a farmers backyard. While turning around to retrace our steps, we glanced into one of his barns and saw an ancient car parked inside. Sadly, the farmer had just driven off, so we didn’t feel that we could really stop and investigate, but it certainly looked like something that dated from the early 1900’s. I really feel that we should ‘get lost’ again soon and ask if we could have a look at it.
On Saturday the weather was obviously going to be good again so we drove off in the opposite direction (West, this time) and soon found ourselves in the area known as the Landes which is relatively flat with enormous maize fields which would make any Free State farmer proud. At one stage we whizzed over a bridge, but then stopped and went back to look again, and saw the most charming old footpath bridge across the river with a weir below it and a water mill beyond. So pretty and we could easily have missed it had we stayed on the main roads.
All good things have to come to an end though and today was a stay-at-home day to get the house straight and all the washing and ironing done. Unfortunately these chores still have to be done even if we are in France and on holiday. And sut here looks pretty much the same as it does at home, although the spiders have far more energy here and can rebuild a spider web overnight, and often do, more’s the pity!

Adventures in France Episode 22

Monday the 20th September started out quite cool but later turned into the most stunning day – clear and sunny. We had arranged to fetch Nicky from the airport in Toulouse that afternoon so left fairly early so that we could have a walk around the city, which we have never done before. We ran into the tail-end of the morning rush-hour but it wasn’t too bad and we managed to find parking in an underground parking garage without too much hassle. There are plenty of wonderful old buildings in the city, but there is no ‘Old Town’ as such and to our horror, ultramodern blocks have been squeezed in between gracious 18th century buildings, which completely destroys the impact of both architectural styles. It is obviously a ‘go-ahead’ city and the side-streets are full of earthworks and machinery, with the sound of pneumatic drills reverberating up and down the narrow, cobbled streets. I tried quite hard to find something to take a picture of, to remind me of our visit, but every vista was partly obscured by stationary trucks or huge compressors. Still, we enjoyed what we saw and had a good lunch. We also searched for, and found, a hobby shop where Neels bought himself a small model to build, before we ventured out to the airport. The plane was due to arrive at 4.30 pm so when we pulled into the parking area at 4.10 pm we patted ourselves on the back for timing it so perfectly………..until we went into the Arrivals hall and discovered that the plane was delayed by about an hour! Apparently the Air Traffic Controllers had gone on strike at the Paris end and a lot of planes were held up, while some were even cancelled. Thank goodness Nicky’s plane arrived, because she had to drive back there the following day to fetch a friend who was coming to stay with her.
The next day was another fairly early start as I had made a hair appointment with an English-speaking hair-dresser who works from home and lives about 35 kms from here. We had only been to her house once before, and on that occasion she had met us in the nearest town and led us to the house. However, she sent us very clear instructions and we were only a little bit late! This couple, with their ten-year-old daughter, arrived in France at about the same time as we did but the house they have bought was not quite complete, and both times that I have been there, the place has been a hive of activity with workmen dashing in and out all the time. Last time, I had my hair-cut in a funny little room off the front hall, that was piled high with boxes still waiting to be unpacked. This time the hair-cut took place in the front hall itself! One can’t complain though, as they are both so friendly and she is very competent. While I was being attended to in the front hall, the two husbands sat in the kitchen drinking coffee and setting the world to rights! What a very comfortable arrangement!
Leaving there with my shorn and shiny locks, we headed due north for about 50 kms to a tiny hill-top town called Brouilh-Monbert, where we were due to have lunch with a new-found friend. What a spectacular site! The house sits right on the top of a fairly high hill with wonderful views in all directions. The person we had gone to visit is a great horse-lover and has ten Haflinger horses. These are Austrian working horses and have immensely strong and solid legs, and are quite big horses too. Hers are all a beautiful shade of gleaming chestnut brown with blonde manes and tails, and are very friendly and placid.
When we went shopping later in the week, I was delighted to find oranges from Nelspruit on the shelf and bought a whole bagful. I felt like running out to the car to get our little South African flag off the windscreen and running around the shop waving it and cheering. We have been following the news from home, in a rather desultory fashion, via the online news services and have been getting quite depressed at all the bad news coming out of SA, so finding these oranges lifted our spirits enormously.
Late on Saturday evening, Pieter and Jessica arrived, both coughing and spluttering, but as pleased to be here as we were to see them. The next day we took them to lunch at our favourite eating place, Bassoues, but unbeknown to us, there was a Vide Grenier on that day and the restaurant was packed. Although we had booked in advance, we had been allocated a table outside which was quite chilly and rather spoiled the effect of the outing.
The weather has suddenly turned very cold again, which isn’t too bad if the sun shines and there is no wind, but every now and again a really sneaky breeze gets up and is not pleasant at all. We are hoping that we will still have a short burst of warmer weather before we leave at the end of next month.

Adventures in France Episode 21

A very un-busy week! We seem to have spent a lot of time driving around from one place to another in order to get things done, but none of it of any great interest or importance. Early on in the week, Neels serviced our little car, which meant draining the oil and changing oil filters, and that turned into a bit of a circus. First of all, the car is so close to the ground that he couldn’t get underneath it to get to the nut that needed to be loosened; then, he found that he didn’t have a spanner the right size to loosen it anyway. Fortunately some friends who live about five minutes away could help so he went there quickly in Nicky’s car, which was spending the week with us while she was away and then was a very happy chappie until right at the end of the job when he ran the car off the chocks he had built up to raise it, the underside of the car caught the edge of the container into which he had drained all the old oil and upended it onto the gravel driveway. Disaster! But the French have cleaners for everything, and we found a bottle of liquid in the garage called a ‘de-greaser’ which we poured on, waited a while and rinsed off and hey presto! The gravel was clean. Quite amazing stuff, but I hate to think what it is made of. This sort of job would be accomplished in a short while at home with all the necessary equipment, but here it took almost all day.
The following day was just as bad. We needed to fax a document back to South Africa after it had been printed off our email, and signed. Unfortunately we haven’t got a printer attached to the computer, much less a fax machine, so we had to go to Nicky’s flat to use her printer, but someone else had the keys (to be able to water the plants while Nicky was away) so we first had to get the keys and then work out how to use her computer and printer and then it was almost twelve o’clock and Neels had to run to the shop to fax it off, and then we had to take the keys back, and then it was twelve o’clock and everything shut for lunch for two hours. Grr! We had wanted to go to the ‘cave’, the wine cellars, to get some wine, but as we parked the car the assistant drove off. There was nothing for it but to go home again, have some lunch and come back again in the afternoon. Once again, a whole day spent doing two fairly minor chores.
Wednesday turned out sunny but not too hot, so we both donned our shorts and went to do some gardening. Actually it was really a lot of weed-pulling and Neels also got the grass cut again so everything is looking all neat and tidy at the moment.
We were really looking forward to Saturday as we had been handed a flyer advertising ‘An exhibition of technology’ at the Aignan Lake One of the exhibitors happened to be a model shop from Tarbes and they were going to display radio-controlled models of all sorts – cars, planes, helicopters and boats – so naturally enough Neels was very interested. We thought we would give the official opening speeches a miss and planned to arrive in time to get a decent parking spot not too far from the lake. So we rolled in there at 1.30 pm, for an event scheduled to start at 3 pm and found ourselves to be the only car there. Puzzled, we went to the small restaurant and asked where all the people were and where the exhibits were, but the owner was as mystified as ourselves. She had been asked to put a long table outside, from which an aperitif was going to be served, which she had done, and then no-one turned up! What a complete disappointment. We waited a while in case, miraculously, hordes of spectators suddenly materialized out of the trees and then took ourselves off for a lovely scenic drive instead. So the day was not completely wasted.
On Sunday we heard about a massive ‘once-a-year’ Vide Grenier not far from here so thought we would go and have a look, for half an hour or so. It was a beautiful day and quite obviously a lot of other people thought the same as the little village was heaving. Our half an hour turned into about three hours and we came away with a very nice one litre china jug, two DVD’s and some odd balls of wool which are going to be just right for the little elephants I have been asked to knit for a friend, who wants them in different colours. Very definitely a case of ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure’. These sales are quite addictive though – even if one buys nothing. It is always fascinating to see what other people are offering for sale and what yet more people are buying!

Adventures in France Episode 20

After the beautiful weather for the motor races last Sunday, things started to get greyer with each passing day. Autumn has surely arrived! Monday began well but turned grey in the afternoon and as a Grand Finale degenerated into a crashing thunderstorm that night. About 25mm of sorely needed rain fell and the on/off drizzle continued all next day On Tuesday night, we had a massive windstorm which threw the trees around and rattled the shutters. The scaffolding erected to (one day) repair the loose slates on the church steeple hummed and sang all night, but nothing came loose which was a blessing. In the morning we discovered that the only damage around here had been done to our own garden as a huge branch had come off the linden tree and had fallen on to the one pergola, while other smaller branches had strewn themselves right across the garden. Once Neels had used axe and saw to clear the big branch, we could see the full extent of the damage – the pergola supports were broken off at ground level. So far we have not done anything more than prop them upright again as it is going to be quite a big job to do.
Toulouse Airport was our destination for Thursday, to drop off Nicky who was going for a giddy week in Paris. Not really! She has long-time friends who live near Paris and others in Normandy who have been begging her to come and stay, so she decided to take two weeks away and see them both. We will collect her from the airport again on her return.
The garden now has delicious figs and grapes to offer into the village barter system, so we took a mixed bowl over to Ady and after enjoying a cup of coffee with her and a fairly understandable and lengthy chat, we came away loaded with tomatoes, courgettes aubergines and green peppers. With those ingredients added to the onions and garlic from our own garden, I managed to make a pretty good ratatouille!
Saturday turned into a major shopping day! In the beginning, it was just a shortish trip to exchange a faulty dust buster for Nicky at a large supermarket in Vic Fezensac . We had allowed ourselves plenty of time as we had heard that ‘after sales service’ and ‘exchange of faulty goods still under guarantee’ is not a strong point in France. How surprised were we then, to be greeted cheerfully (although we quite obviously had something to return) and to be given a replacement immediately with any further fuss. No filling out forms, no quibbling; no details of why and how the appliance didn’t work. Just a very pleasant man who took the one machine and dashed off to find a replacement and that was that. So much for all the rumours!
Of course, we were now inside a fairly big supermarket so it seemed a pity to let it go to waste so we wandered around finding a couple of things that we possibly didn’t really heed, before discovering the clothing section. This is something we both need. Winter stock is just coming in and is exactly what we will need when we return next year. However, we were unlucky at this shop and walked out without any new shirts or jerseys.
Reluctant to come straight home seeing that the weather had cleared up into the most stunning day, we went, first to Eauze where Neels needed some hardware bits and pieces. It was around lunch time by now so we had lunch in a café on the square and watched the world go by. Eauze is a major stopover point on the Route de Compostela, and the Café de France, where we ate is a favourite with the pilgrims, so we often have lunch or a coffee there and listen to all the different languages being spoken. After lunch we explored parts of the town which we had never seen, before taking off on yet another huge detour to get home. Quite fortuitously, this happened to go right past the biggest supermarket we have ever seen so we just to go in and have a look. What a treasure house! Everything one’s heart could ever desire is for sale there, and I suppose one could only compare it with Game in SA but with groceries and perishables. The clothing section is immense and there too, new stock was being packed onto shelves and rails. What fun we had! And came away with jerseys and shirts suitable for a European winter. Or we hope so anyway.
On Sunday the weatherman had changed his mind again and it was cloudy and cool but this didn’t worry us as we were off to watch the Italian Grand Prix on the television in the house we will be occupying next year. It was a good race, and the house was cosy which bodes well for our return.
We have got into the habit of buying a newspaper which comes out monthly called the “French Paper’ It is written in English with news about France and plenty of articles which are of interest to non-French people staying here. On the back page though, are the puzzles and two are our favourites. One is a multiple choice, 30 question quiz about France and French affairs. This is always fun to do and shows just how little we really know! The other is a crossword puzzle with a difference. It is cryptic; some of the answers revolve around a particular department of France (which changes with every puzzle); and to make it even more interesting, if the clue mentions French or France, the answer could be a French word! So the two of us sit at the dining room table surrounded by dictionaries, map books, guide books and anything else that may be of use until we have battled our way to the end. Actually it isn’t really so hard because the answers are on the next page, but we try not to look at them until we are completely foxed! It certainly keeps the unemployed employed!

Adventures in France Episode 19

Last Monday we went off to Nogaro, a medium-sized town about 30 kilometers away, because we had heard and read about an historic Grand Prix that was due to take place there at the end of the week. Apparently Nogaro used to host real Grand Prix races, although it hasn’t done so for quite some years. The track has been well maintained though, and has even been modernized over the years, so in recognition of the fifty years of it’s existence, this historic race was planned. As we are both keen motor racing fans, we thought it could turn out to be quite a fun day, but wanted to check first on where to go, where to buy tickets and where to sit. We found our way to the track quite easily as the signboards were already up, indicating parking for drivers and public. The ‘stands’ are just concrete terraces, so we made a note to bring cushions and an umbrella against the sun. While we were walking around, Neels saw a woman walking purposefully towards the control tower so he intercepted her to ask a few questions about the best places to sit etc. We were delighted to find that she spoke very good English and even more delighted when she invited us to accompany her into the control room. What a surprise! I’m not sure what we had expected, but it wasn’t the very modern set-up we found. This person that we had met quite by chance, turned out to be the race controller and was in charge of a bank of ten TV monitors and all the video cameras around the track. She showed us how, by using a joystick, she could access any of the cameras, move them around, and zoom in and out. Using this method, she showed us where the good places were to sit, and also what our view would be. We must have spent a good half-hour chatting to her and watching her at work. Then we went off to the Circuit Boutique and bought tickets for the following Sunday.
The following day we had invited Nicky to lunch, but a knock on the front door turned out to be Ady with an apron full of tomatoes and peaches for us. We persuaded her to come in for a coffee and while we waited for the kettle to boil, we showed her the photographs we had taken so far. She was quite complimentary about the scenic ones but obviously enjoyed seeing herself on the screen. For a change, she did not rush off but eventually left just in time to go and ring the church bells at twelve o’clock, which was just about the time our lunch guest arrived.
On Wednesday we just pottered about but received an email from our landlords asking Neels to do a few tasks around the house, for which he needed other tools, so the next day we went to borrow suitable bits and pieces from some friends in Aignan. One of the tasks was to install a power socket in the wall at the end of the passage, for which he would need a plug box so we made a big detour to get to the nearest hardware shop. In the old days, these were always made of metal with little push-out circles to allow for wires and conduit, but nowadays they are, unsurprisingly, made of plastic. When we arrived at the till, Neels searched his wallet for some small change, but, finding none, tendered a E20 not to pay for the box which cost E1.10. The cashier sighed and asked if he hadn’t got coins, which we hadn’t, and at that moment the previous customer, who was still packing his purchases into a bag, dug into his pocket and pulled out two 50c pieces and a 10c, said ‘C’est bon?’ and walked off. I think ‘gobsmacked’ would be the right word for what we felt!
The next few days were spent doing our various chores, although I spent most of the time doing my new piece of embroidery, which I am having misgivings about. It is an awful lot of satin stitch, which I am not fond of doing, but I will complete it and probably give the cushion to the Hospice shop!
On Sunday we were up bright and early and were already in our seats by 8.30 am. Racing started soon after and we were treated to a large variety of types and classes of cars. Highlight of the day for me, wasn’t even a scheduled race, but was supposed to be a parade during the lunch break, which was, of course, two hours long. A long line of immaculately presented ‘deux chevaux’ ( Citroen two horse power mini cars ) streamed out of the pit area onto the track and started driving around quite sedately until the one in the front decided to make it into a race. The next minute they were hurtling along looking positively dangerous as they leaned precariously into the corners sometimes lifting a back wheel completely off the ground. By modern standards, they are quite high off the ground; not very wide; and have these ridiculous ‘Marie biscuit’ wheels, all of which tend to make them look even more terrifying. Watching them, we were constantly amazed that they didn’t fall over!
We had a wonderful day, full of excitement and only left after 5.30 in the afternoon feeling we had really had our money’s worth

Adventures in France Episode 18

When the temperature soared to 33 degrees the week before last, we thought that that was very hot, but more was still to come and on Thursday of this last week we experienced our hottest day ever. Outside the pharmacy in Aignan is an illuminated sign has a large green cross on it and then underneath that, the time and temperature of the moment are displayed. We were told that at the height of the day, the temperature was reading 44 degrees, and believe me, that is really hot. A day or so later when we were out and about again, the ploughed fields were baked to a pale yellow colour whereas before the hot day they had been a lovely rich brown.
The unpleasantly hot weather has certainly put a stop to our aimless wandering along the back roads and lanes of the area, and all car journeys have been of the ‘strictly necessary’ type. We did, however, get to the market on Wednesday, and also did some shopping at the supermarket, and roused ourselves sufficiently to go and watch the Belgian Grand Prix on a friend’s television. We thought back to two years ago when Neels and Pieter made the trip from Oss to Spa to watch this same round of the World Championship, and also got rained on, just as it did this year.
During our wanderings, we have become more and more aware of the number of small shrines and crosses at the side of the road. This is a Catholic country, so one expects to see a lot of statues of the Virgin, but around here, almost every turning and cross-roads has a symbol of some sort. Sometimes they are plaster figures; sometimes carved wooden ones. Sometimes it will be a crucifix in plain wood or plaster; sometimes a painted one. But the crosses that have really caught my eye are the curly, twirly wrought iron ones that I had always thought were Templar crosses marking the routes to Santiago de Compostela, but when I looked it up, I found I was mistaken and they must just be religious symbols too, to protect the travelers on that stretch of the road. I started to look for a really ornate one to photograph, and more we looked, the more we found. A lot of them are almost hidden by trees or weeds, and many are in a sad state, but we eventually found a lovely example, and with a clear sky behind it, it made an excellent picture.
A very short blog this week, but with all the hot days we have really done nothing at all, and if we’ve done nothing, there is nothing to write about. Hopefully there will be more interesting news next week.

Adventures in France Episode 17

I can’t believe that just last week I was complaining about how cold it had become and was wondering where summer was. That’s because we have found the summer and it is here and now! On Sunday of last week it was really quite chilly, and rainy as well, but by Friday of this week the mercury had risen to 32 degrees with an extra one for luck on Saturday and not a breath of wind. Under these conditions all we can do is close all the shutters and some of the windows too, put the lights on and stay indoors. I think we may well be getting our money’s worth after all! During the week, we cut open the starnge tomoato that Ady had given us and it was, indeed, seedless. Also very delicious.
After watching me working away at my cross-stitch project for so long, Neels decided that he also needed something practical to do, so when I was surfing the ‘Net for embroidery projects we also looked for model building kits as well. He wasn’t too keen on just buying straight off the ‘net, which in this case was also very expensive, so we looked for an outlet not too far away. We found one in Tarbes, about 50 kms from here. Having never been to Tarbes, we thought it would make a pleasant outing anyway and decided to go there on Tuesday. It was a beautiful day, clear and sunny, but we had left rather later than we had wanted too, so asked ‘Jane’ to take us via the fastest route, which meant that we drove part of the way on a very nice, new, boring highway. When we got there we discovered that Tarbes is one enormous one-way system of roads, and although we actually drove right past our required shop, there was no parking and it took us about quarter of an hour to find somewhere to leave the car and another quarter of an hour to walk back to the shop itself which was, by then, of course, closed for lunch. So we bought a sandwich from a handy bakery and found a shady bench on which to sit and eat it. Then we still had an hour and a half to wait, so we went and had a cup of coffee at one of the cafes in the square, but after half an hour there we felt that we could more than easily fill the last hour with a walk around town.
The reason for the extensive one-way system was immediately obvious – Tarbes has very narrow streets and widening them to accommodate two vehicles would have completely destroyed the character of the town. Instead, the pavements have been made quite wide and beautiful hanging baskets decorate the lamp posts. In comparison with our local rural villages, Tarbes is very sophisticated and many of the clothing shops bear the names of well-known manufacturers such as Dolce and Gabbana, Tommy Hilfigger, Lafayette Gallery and so on. I was secretly pleased to notice a Marks and Spencer’s clothing shop squeezed in between two other larger shops. We also noticed several examples of 'trompe-l'oeil' paintings. A flat wall or surface is painted with a scene in perfect perspective so that it decieves the eye and one thinks the surface is not flat.Eventually we made our way round a big circular route back to the model shop only to find that this particular place only opened at 2.30 pm! But it had taken us more than an hour to walk around so we didn’t have too long to wait. Eventually the proprietor arrived with the key and let himself in. From their website we had expected a vast emporium, but when we finally got inside, the shop was about the size of a small garage and was jammed with goods. There was a young couple with a toddler in a push-chair ahead of us, which pretty well filled up the whole shop, but we squeezed around them and had a good look around but could see no sign of the model which Neels had set his heart on. Eventually it was our turn to be served. The man was so apologetic; there were no more of that particular model in stock. Oh dear! There would be new stock coming in September when the factories reopened, but that was not much consolation. We promised to return when he had his new stock, only this time we will phone first. On the way home we set ‘Jane’ to take us the shortest route, which is always fun as she gets us to twist and turn through almost impossible back roads and lanes in order to save perhaps one or two kilometers.
The rest of the week passed quickly. Wednesday was Market Day at Marciac again and we went to wander around there, and then came home via Plaisance which is our chosen shopping village. On Thursday, Neels painted the shutters in our bedroom – a chore he has been threatening to do since we arrived. Some time in the past, the shutters had sagged and had been taken off and re-braced but not re-painted, which had left an unsightly bare strip across each shutter. Now the repair is no longer obvious and the shutters look much better. On Friday we had promised to do some ‘man-about-the-house’ chores for Nicky, in return for a yummy cold lunch and a bottle of wine, and Saturday and today have been too hot for words, never mind deeds! The weather forecast says we might have a thunder storm tonight and if it is anything like the last one, it could be spectacular.

Adventures in France Episode 16

A very quiet, almost boring week, perhaps a reaction to the fairly active time we had had in the preceding two weeks. Also the weather is changing noticeably and there is a distinct chill in the morning and evening air. We feel quite cheated – what happened to Summer? Where are the endless days of scorching heat that everyone has spoken about in years past? Not that we really enjoy scorching heat, but if we are supposed to be having them, we want them! We want our full money’s worth! It doesn’t help to winge though, so we just put another blanket on the bed and spend longer in it! As a result our days are shortened even more and it is a real effort to get all our shopping done before the whole of France shuts down at twelve o’clock for it’s two-hour lunch break.
On Wednesday we realized that it was actually warmer in the car than in the house when we ventured out to do a bit of sight-seeing. We went in a south westerly direction to Maubourguet where we had heard about the ‘knitted’ trees over the main road through town. To achieve the effect, the plane trees on either side of the main road have the tops cut off each year, forcing long slender shoots to grow out just below the cut. These shoots are then allowed to grow longer and side shoots are trimmed off. The main shoots are carefully intertwined (knitted), and once the leaves come out, provide a dense canopy and wonderful shade. It is a popular tradition in a lot of European towns and is often done in places where people tend to congregate such as market areas or town squares. The idea is to provide welcome relief from that scorching sun that I mentioned earlier.
By the time we reached the town, it was almost lunch-time but we walked a big loop around the one half of the town before deciding to have lunch at a very pleasant café in the main road. Then we did the other half of the figure eight and walked a big loop around the other end of town. Some of the flowers were pretty but the town has little to attract tourists.
The guide book had said that another town close by was worth seeing, just as an oddity. The whole town is spread out in one long line of houses and shops along the single main road which runs through it. We found the town easily enough and it is true – the houses range from old to newer to newest the further one goes down the road. Very odd indeed. No reason was given for this but we wondered if perhaps the land on both sides was very damp or prone to flooding or something of that sort. Unlike most old towns and villages, there was no central square or market place and to tell the truth, was just a bit dismal.
We then turned back towards Riscle, where we had not visited before, and had a quick walk around town before deciding that it, too, had little to recommend it.
Earlier in the week I had finished the cross-stitch project I had been busy with for about a year, and with a sigh of relief folded it carefully and put it in my suitcase to take home. Then I spent a pleasant few hours trawling the Internet for online suppliers of embroidery kits. I finally found something that suited both my interests and my pocket, and am now anxiously awaiting it’s arrival. It will be good to have something different to occupy my time.
Also during the week, we finalized our plans for returning to France next year in order to renew our long-stay visas. Some friends who have a house here are returning to Britain indefinitely and have kindly offered us the use of their house. This is wonderful news and we look forward to returning to this area early next year.
There is currently a wonderful ‘exchange of goods’ going on in the village and beyond! Obviously everyone’s veggie patch is doing well and producing more than the gardeners can cope with. The other day we found three tomatoes balancing on the kitchen window sill, which could only have come from Ady. I quickly put some onions from our garden into a packet to give to her in return but she had gone out. That evening we went to dine with friends and came away with a giant bag of beans that resemble and taste like green beans but which are white. I added some beans to the packet for Ady and a bunch of dahlias and we took them to her this morning. But we didn’t return home empty-handed as she immediately produced two more tomatoes and an aubergine, and something I am really intrigued by. She says it is a tomato without seeds in it, if I understood correctly. It is about ten centimeters long and pointed at one end and almost looks like a red chilli, and is apparently all flesh. I can’t wait to cut it up! I will take some pictures and perhaps include them next week.

Adventures in France Episode 15

The lovely weather we had been having came to a sudden end last Sunday afternoon and by Monday morning it was still wet and grey. By lunch-tine though, we had had enough of the enforced inactivity and decided to go for a drive. We drove north along roads that we had driven before, so there wasn’t much that our guest hadn’t already seen. Not, that is, until we got to Larressingle which has the reputation of being the smallest walled town in France. The circumference is less than five hundred metres, but does have a chateau and a church surrounded by tiny houses which all back on to the ramparts. Some of the houses have been converted to small shops, although a few are still occupied. Access to the village is over a bridge that spans the moat and then though the only gate in the walls. A sudden downpour first trapped about a dozen or so visitors to the village in the gateway, all of us standing quite comfortably in the thickness of the outer walls, and then forced us to take refuge in the small café where we enjoyed some delicious crepes and coffee while we waited for the rain to stop. In fact the shower passed quite soon and we were able to wander around and even take some good pictures.
The following day, the weather-man relented and although the day started out fairly cloudy, it soon cleared up and we were glad we ad taken a chance and had set off early for Nerac, and old town some distance from here and also north of us. Nerac lies on the banks of the River Baise and was a favourite place for King Henry IV of France to visit. I think the other reason he liked it was that he was reputed to have about fifty mistresses here! It is an attractive town with more modern buildings mingling with the very old ones without detracting from their charm. The river runs through the centre, and after taking ourselves on a walking tour around the town, we went for a cruise in a large 75-seater launch. We had a delightful guide to point out everything of interest as we slowly made our way along the river and there was plenty to see. By this time the sun had come out properly and it was really beautiful, just gliding along through the sunlight and shadow.
On the way home we stopped off at a little village called Moncrabeau which calls itself the ‘Capital of Liars’.! Every year at this time they have a competition to see who can tell the tallest story, or biggest lie, if you like, and apparently people come from far and wide to listen to, and tell, the stories. We would love to go to one of the story-telling events, but our French is certainly not up to that standard by any means. As we were driving through the town, having stopped to admire the view from the centre, we passed a man with the most extraordinary hairstyle I’ve ever seen. Imagine a white man with a grey Afro and that’s what it was. Very unusual, to say the least. A few minutes later we passed a beautifully restored grain barn, in the grounds of a house, which I wanted to take a picture of, so we drove to the end of the road to turn and by the time we got back to the house, who should be walking into the grounds but Mr Afro Hairstyle! I asked him if it was his house as I wanted to take a picture, but he replied that that the owner was around the corner and his was the house beyond. While I went and asked the owner’s permission and took my picture, a strange little procession came up the road. It was a couple walking along with a dog, and pushing Junior in a pushchair. Nothing strange about that? No not really except that the man was playing the bagpipes, and not the ordinary Scottish bagpipes with the many pipes coming out of the bag. This must have been the economy version as it only appeared to have two pipes, and one of those was the one he was playing on. We left feeling that we had all experienced something just a little surreal!
Wednesday was Marciac market day again, and as Glynn hadn’t had a chance to visit one of the markets we thought Marciac was a good one to go to. At this time of year, Marciac hosts an internationally acclaimed Jazz Festival and the market gets moved out to the lake which is actually a lovely setting for it. Being holiday time in France and the Festival, everyone seemed to have made an extra effort and there were masses of stalls selling every imaginable thing. There was also a man with a pony cart giving rides up and down. Whenever they set off the man’s little fox terrier jumped on to the horse’s rump and stood balancing there while they drove. And whenever they ventured out into the road an orange flashing light was turned on that projected from the horse’s harness and stuck out above his head! What a sight.
Thursday saw us returning to Toulouse once more as it was time to say goodbye to cousin Glynn and allow him to continue on his travels. It has been a wonderful few days and we have enjoyed taking someone around to see the sights and also to have new experiences with us.
The rest of the week passed in doing normal household chores which had been shelved for some time. We have also lifted a whole lot of onions and spread them out to dry off. They look magnificent, if one can actually say that about onions. The garlic which we lifted some time ago and had hung up to dry has all been peeled and trimmed and now resembles the garlic that I am used to seeing in the supermarket. Our tomatoes are coming on beautifully and one plant has masses of fruit that should be ripening in about a week or so. Picking something that we have planted ourselves will be a first for us and we can’t wait to see what they taste like. Like tomatoes, I would say!

Adventures in France Episode 14

My goodness! Quite a busy week which has definitely shaken us out of the rut we had fallen into! We started by going to visit the town of Montreal-du-Gers, which is supposed to have the only ‘square’ town square, but which I think is a debatable claim. While there, we went into the tourist office, which incorporates the Museum and found a lot of artifacts which had been dug up while excavating at Seviac nearby. According to the museum, the mosaic tiled floors were very well preserved, and the buiding that had been discovered dated from the 4th to the 7th century AD. One of the display items which amazed me was a beautiful glass urn about 45 cms high which had been made of thin glass. (Now pieced together of course) After spending some time there, we went out to view the actual site and wandered around there for quite some time. The archaeologists had certainly uncovered some huge areas of wonderfully colourful mosaics, and it was easy to see that they had taken the place of carpets or other floor coverings , and that it must have been a very grand house indeed. Also to see were the remains of the under-floor heating system and the water-borne sewage system. They had areas for cold, warm and hot baths, and at a later stage, even a chapel was added. Another interesting fact is that in Winter, the mosaics are kept covered with a layer of fine beach sand which is apparently why the colours are still so good.
The following day we set very early as we had a two hour drive to our destination south of Laruns in The Pyrenees. A little further into the mountains we came to Lac de Fabreges and the base station for the Little Train of Artouste. From here one is whisked 800 metres up the mountain in ten-minute cable car ride, and then waiting at the upper staion is a dear little diesel engine that looks like a child’s toy, which pulls open-sided coaches. Making sure that I was on the ‘mountain’ side of the seat, rather than the side that would have a vertical drop next to it, we fastened our seat belt and next minute the train was off. It starts by going through a tunnel, the Tunnel of the Bears, which is just over 300 metres long and into which the train just fits. Not a good start for the claustrophobics! When it emerged on the other side of the mountain, we found ourselves on contour track far above the valley floor. The journey to the far end of the track takes about an hour, during which time one has spectacular views of the mountains. We also came across short sections of double track where we occasionally had to wait to allow the trains coming in the other direction to pass. Finally we reached our destination, but there was still a 15-minute walk up to the Lac d’Artouste. This dam is the catchment dam for a hydro-electric scheme, and the whole purpose of the train was to provide transport for the men and materials to build the dam originally, but now it has been turned into a delightful tourist attraction.
On Wednesday the cousins went off together to another spot in the Pyrenees known as Pont d’Espagne which looks very beautiful with masses of waterfalls and cascades, and rivers which just appear to flow across open park-like slopes. The weather was still excellent and the water, which was probably freezing, sparkled in the sunlight.
The next day I spent most of the time preparing for a dinner party, which I always find very stressful, but which, in fact went of very well and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. After that though, the cook needed a break, and the very best place to enjoy someone else’s cooking is at a traditional restaurant in a small village called Bassoues. It was again a lovely day and we were able to sit out on the verandah and enjoy watching the passing parade.
On Saturday we had planned to join up with some friends who have a car large enough to seat all five of us, and ‘do’ a few places together, and as the weather was still fine we met at their house about mid-morning and set off. First on the list was th Abbeye de Flaran, where Neels and I had been before, but the others not, and since the art exhibition inside was well worth seeing a second time, we didn’t mind going again. It is not often one gets a chance to see original Monets, Picassos and Gainsboroughs and they were just as good second time around. After a picnic lunch in the grounds, we went a bit further to the Chateau de Lavardens, a medieval castle that was never completed, but which stands imposingly on a rock and dominates the small town behind it. Luckily there are sufficient complete chambers in it to accommodate exhibitions of various sorts and it is currently hosting an art glass exhibition which we all wanted to see. Although I personally didn’t care for all the exhibits, there were enough to cater for all tastes and there were certainly plenty that were so beautiful that they took your breath away. After all this culture, we really needed something a little more lighthearted, so made our way the short distance to La Romieu. This small village with it’s triangular village square has an interesting legend attached to it. The story goes that the villagers were starving because of a series of bad harvests, stock losses and sickness etc and started eating the local cats. A young girl known as Angeline hid a couple of her pet animals in the loft of the barn and managed to keep them hidden for a number of years, during which time they produced a fair number of kittens. When the town subsequently became overrun with rats and mice, she released her cats on condition that no-one killed and ate them. The cats cleaned up the vermin problem and Angeline was declared a heroine. In honour of this act, and of her, an artist at a later date decided to decorate the village with cats, so today there are life sized sculptures of cats peeping out of windows, lying on gateposts, playing next to doorways, in fact the more one looks for them the more one sees. Delightful!
We then went on in to the Cathedral and Abbey in the town where we found a heavenly(!) aromatic herb garden with all the herbs labelled with the name and uses. Very interesting indeed.
On Sunday morning Aignan was again having a Vide Grenier, so we took Glynn to show him just how much junk people have lying around in their houses! I think he was amazed to see the whole square filled with tables, covered with every imaginable item for sale. Sadly for all the stall holders, it started drizzling in the middle of the morning and then deteriorated into fairly soaking rain. By then we had seen enough so came home and christened my new Travel Scrabble set which Glynn brought over from England as a gift for me.

Adventures in France Episode 13

At the beginning of the week we returned Dappley to her owners and were just a little sad to see how enthusiastically she greeted her owners. Obviously she had just been putting on a brave face for us, while all the time she was longing for them to return! It was fun to have a little dog around the place, but to be perfectly honest, we couldn’t really think of having anyone’s pet here for longer than a few days, and then only infrequently.
On the way home again we called in at a large supermarket and bought ourselves an indoor aerial for the TV set we have been lent. Our idea was that if we could see the pictures while hearing the French, particularly on the news channel, we would be able to improve our French by leaps and bounds. However, our dreams of becoming fluent French-speakers overnight were still-born as, no matter what Neels tried, we could not get the aerial to pick up a strong enough signal to give us a picture that stood still for more than a nano-second. Oh well, it’s back to the hard way then…..!
The following day we were returning some of the hospitality that we have been shown, so were unable to return the aerial until the day after that, which we were a bit nervous about as we had lost the till slip. However, there was absolutely no problem at all. We merely said that the aerial was incompatible with our TV and that was that. Money back at once. The same day, I suddenly got fed up with my hair which was too long and badly needed cutting, so I phoned the number I had been given for an English-speaking hairdresser and made and appointment. She lives near a town called Mielan which was all new territory to us, and we had a really lovely drive down to keep the appointment. I know we are trying to do as much as possible in French, but I definitely do not feel competent to discuss a haircut in French and imagine if I mispronounced something vital and ended up with a shaven head! Anyway she is a lovely warm person and I am glad to have got to know her. That night, we had been invited out to dinner and when we left our friends’ house, it was just beginning to drizzle quite heavily. By the time we got home, it was pouring down, and continued to do so all night and most of the next day, with the temperature dropping way down again. Afterwards we discovered that our village had had 60 mms of rain, and the garden had been transformed once more into a bog! But there is always a bright side and in this case it means that the garden will not need watering for quite a few days.
On Saturday we set out for Toulouse airport where we were due to collect another cousin who has come to stay for a short while. The weather was not very bright and was quite cool too, but we are hoping for an improvement as grey days don’t make for good sight-seeing. We also have a full programme planned for the time he is here, and would really like to show him the area while it is looking its best.
Although we have almost exhausted the supply of vegetables in the garden, with only some rather magnificent onions still to be lifted. Our tomato plants that we rescued from the Agri are doing very well and have sprouted magnificently. We are longing for them to start producing to that we can find out just what kinds of tomatoes we have actually acquired. However, the fruit trees are now coming into their own and we are already getting delicious little Mirabelle plums. Soon we will start picking a bumper crop of figs, and I may well be glad that I have kept all the various bottles that we have emptied over the past few months! I see a major jam-making session ahead.
Of course the garden doesn’t stop there as there are still all sorts of flowers coming on too. We currently have a wonderful bed of gladioli – red, orange, yellow, pink and a striking two-toned pink and white one. We also have some really spectacular dahlias in a whole range of colours, and then my favourite is a blue hibiscus which I have never seen before but which is very eye-catching. Having not planted any of these things, it is a bit like opening a treasure chest and seeing what is inside, when these plants start flowering and we are loving the experience.

Adventures in France Episode 12

This week was an important one in the French calendar as it contained the 14th July, otherwise known as Bastille Day, the French National Day. It commemorates the storming of the Bastille fortress-prison in Paris, in 1789. The purpose was two-fold – to release political prisoners and to obtain ammunition and gunpowder, as the people (the peasants) feared reprisal attacks by the royal military and the feudal lords. Realizing the futility of trying to hold out against the attack, the Governor of the prison opened the gates, but due to a misunderstanding fighting continued and 65 of the attackers lost their lives while only one defender died. At the time, there were only seven prisoners incarcerated and none of them were political prisoners. However, the point had been made and shortly after, feudalism was abolished and the Declaration of Man and the Citizen was proclaimed. So now, every year at this time great celebrations are held in which fireworks play a big part.
In Aignan, the celebrations took the form of a communal dinner, held outdoors in the square in front of the community hall, followed by music and dancing, and finished off with the inevitable fireworks. Dinner consisted of a 3-melon starter with Parma ham (Spanspek, wintermelon and another white fleshed Spanish melon); duck breast, freshly grilled by the man at the braai, served with green beans and a couple of chunks of baguette; finished off with a commercial cornet ice-cream. There was also coffee, and of course, wine with the meal. Once again we were impressed by the behaviour of the children. There was no screaming or rushing about madly in and out of the adults. They all went off to one side and the bigger ones looked after the smaller ones, and everything was pleasant and orderly. When the time came, the children were fed first, and when the music was turned up for the dancing, they all joined in too. And since all the children had displayed such adult manners all evening, it gave the adults every excuse to ooh and aah at the fireworks, like children!
The following morning was a very late one in the Ferreira household! However we couldn’t dally too much as we were expecting a small guest later in the day and had arranged to collect her in the early afternoon from a house we had never been to before. It was not hard to find though and with the help of Jane and the directions given to us by the householder, we drove straight there. Our guest was a small rough-haired Jack Russell terrier, called Dappley, and she had come to stay for the weekend while her owners went on a white-water rafting excursion. Dappley was not at all sure about the arrangement, and sat bolt upright and perfectly still on my lap for the entire return trip, rather like a stuffed toy. However, after a day, she settled down and has made herself very much at home with us. She hops up on to the couch when Neels settles down to read, but is just as ready to go do some wild digging in the garden if we are outside. I think she has frightened all the field mice for miles around by digging open the entrance to a few burrows and huffing down them with great enthusiasm. She is a dear little thing and we will miss her when she goes back home at the end of the weekend.
It is now sunflower time in the Gers! The wheat has been harvested, the straw and grass cut and baled, and the bales have been carted to various farms. Now the sunflower plants which were only thirty centimetres high when we went to Vazerac on the 22nd June, are now over a metre tall and are flowering. What a wonderful sight! We are wondering what comes next in the farming year.
The weather this week has been really pleasant as it has been quite cold at night; cool in the morning and evening and then fairly warm in the middle of the day, and sunny most days. The weather forecast tells us that we should enjoy this while we can as it is just building up steam for another few sweltering days similar to the days we had a couple of weeks back. Oh dear!

Adventures in France Episode 11

This whole week has been very hot again, although Monday started out being a little cooler, so we got out into the garden and cleared away a lot of dead plants. Then we were stricken with conscience, having just removed the last vestiges of the delicious vegetables that our landlords had planted, and which we had eaten. Neels was all for planting some radishes, which we probably will do, because they always grow, no matter what, but we wanted something a little more adventurous than that and decided on tomatoes.. I phoned a friend for advice, who assured me that one could plant tomatoes at almost any time of the year.Then she asked where we were thinking of getting the plants and I rubbed my hands in glee thinking we were going to be given a few. ‘Oh’ I said airily, probably up at the Gamm Vert (a chain of nurseries) near…..’and I named a village close by. ‘Oh! Don’t do that’ she said, ‘Go down to the market tomorrow and get some there’ Well, having seen the price of tomato seedlings at previous markets we decided to go with our first plan and zoomed off up to the Gamm Vert. As luck would have it, the local branch turned out to be more like an agricultural supplier than a nursery, but we hung around until the young fellow behind the till had finished helping his customer and then asked him for tomato seedlings. He pointed across the shop and when we didn’t move he took us to the seed display. However seeds were not an option, far too slow for our liking, and we insisted on seedlings. Eventually he went and winkled the boss out of the office and the two of them took us into a vast, mostly empty, warehouse where there was a large trolley standing with a few trays of very badly abused tomato plants on it. They appeared to have been left out in the sun over the weekend without water, and were very sad and droopy. We agreed that that was the sort of thing we had been thinking of but perhaps plants that weren’t at death’s door! ‘A gift! A gift’ he said, picking out a couple that weren’t completely dried and crunchy. Grudgingly, we accepted 8 small plants and came home with our prize. First of all we gave them a good drink of water and then once it cooled down we put them into real earth with a handful of rose fertilizer (does it make any difference?), more water and whispered good night to them and crossed our fingers. Next morning we crept outside to check on our refugees, and Hurrah! They were all standing proud and strong. Yay! We will learn how to garden yet!
At the end of the week, we had planned to visit some English friends who live some distance away, in Montguyon, for what the French call ‘Le Weekend’. How original can one get! Our visit was planned to coincide with two annual summer events – a night market and a ‘fête’. Montguyon has some wonderful old ruins, which stand on a knoll, in the centre of town. The night market,held on the top of the knoll and which began at about 7.30 pm was actually less about buying items of merchandise from the stalls than about buying food to eat, meeting people and having a jolly good time. Long tables and benches are provided and everyone takes their own plates, cutlery and glasses. The idea is that one wanders around the stalls, decides what would be tasty and buys if before settling down at a table with one’s friends. Remarkably, the food was good and plentiful; the wine, also sold at one of the stalls, wasn’t too bad and we had a very enjoyable evening. The next night, however, was an unforgettable experience. This was the ‘fête’. The only way I can describe it is to call it an outdoor meal and a show. The weather was perfect after an unbearably hot day and at about 8 pm we went off down to town and parked the car as close as possible to the venue. The same tables and benches had been set out only this time they were below the castle ruins. Tickets for the meal had been purchased in advance, and in exchange for each ticket we were given a boxed meal consisting of a rice and tuna salad; a slice each of tender beef and pork, with green beans; a triangular wedge of Camembert cheese and a bread roll; and to finish off, a slice of fruit tart topped with a mixture of strawberries, pineapple, kiwi-fruit and apricots. Two men continually went around the tables with containers of wine with which they kept topping up the glasses.. By about 9.15 pm most people had finished eating and were moving towards the area below the ruined castle. We had brought our own chairs, as was required, and managed to find a space very close to the front, where a stage had been set up and behind it an elaborate support system for the trapeze artists who were to perform later in the show. While we waited for the show to start at 9.45 pm laser lights were played over the ruins, and floodlights were tested, bathing the old walls in different colours. I won’t describe everything we saw, as that would take far too long, but there were singers, dancers, a tight-rope walker and aerial acrobats. There had been about a hundred and fifty people who sat down to dinner before the show, but for the show itself, which was free, there must have been several thousand. And as a grand finale, we were all treated to a firework display that just went on and on. A very tired little group of ‘oldies’ finally got to bed at about one o’clock in the morning, knowing with a sinking heart that we had to be up again at 7.30 the next morning to make our way back home. We had enjoyed our outing immensely and are going to be on the lookout for similar events.