Two special adventures this week; one local and the other a bit further afield.
Our idea for our first adventure was started a while ago when we happened to see a rather dilapidated small car parked on a heap of grass behind a barn not far from here. Although the body-work appeared to still be in fair order, the car had quite obviously been sitting there for a good long time. We took note of the name of the farm and when we returned home, we asked our fount of all knowledge, our bell-ringing friend, who the owner of the farm was. It turned out to be her son, and yes, she would certainly introduce us. We tried to explain that what we wanted to ask was whether we could buy the trim off his ‘dead’ car and put it over the ‘rhino-gore-mark’ on ours in an effort to disguise the dent, and we think she got the gist of what we were saying. Anyway she duly set up the meeting and on Tuesday, we collected her just after lunch and set off for the farm. She was a little horrified at the thought of going by car, saying that it was a mere kilometer and a half to the farm, but we explained that it would be a lot easier to explain to her son just what it was that we wanted, if we could actually show him the damage, which she admitted made some sense. When we arrived the family of three had just finished eating their midday meal with their dessert plates still on the table, but they quickly made space for us at the table and very soon we were being poured tumblers full of a deliciously chilled white wine. Conversation was a little slow but they were very kind and patient with us. The wine was soon followed by tiny cups of strong black coffee, and before that was completely finished, a bottle of 20-year-old Armagnac was produced. Neels accepted a splash in his coffee cup, but I declined, knowing full well the effects the spirit has on one’s ability to breathe. So instead, a sugar cube was dunked in the Armagnac and carefully placed in my teaspoon with the instruction to ‘Taste’. Half the cube took away my breath completely so I handed the rest to Neels, which they all found highly amusing. After all this and then some more light chat, the business of the car was finally got around to and the men disappeared outside to examine the cars. Sadly though, the one that he had was not the same model as ours and the trim would not fit so we are still driving around in a car with a huge visible dent. However, the day can hardly be called wasted as we met some lovely people.
On the subject of our bell-ringing pensioner – we have discovered that every Spring she turns her attention to cultivating a small piece of land on the outskirts of the village. The first we knew of it was when she stomped past our kitchen window one day with a large hoe slung over her shoulder. The next day she was wheeling a barrow loaded with seedlings, and bewailing the fact that she only had two tomato plants to plant out. The rest must have been killed off by the unseasonable cold. However the next day she was all smiles again as she had managed to find some more tomato plants from somewhere or other and was off to get them into the ground as soon as possible. We believe that last year, when it was very dry, she was wheeling her barrow loaded with two huge cans of water to her garden every day, until one of her sons took pity on her and laid a hosepipe to the plot. She is amazingly tough, but like everyone we have met, is also kind, generous and patient with us. She is real darling.
Our other adventure of the week was a trip to the top of one of the peaks in the Pyrenees by rack railway. The day’s outing included a two-hour drive to St Jean de Luz on the Atlantic coast, where we stopped for a while and had lunch, then another half hour or so to a little village called Ascain, which is a bit inland, where we caught the train. The coaches have benches which run across the width of the coach, facing each other in each open-sided compartment. There are about ten people to each compartment. The gradient varies, but at it’s steepest is about 25% and those sitting in the downward facing seats have to brace themselves so as not to fall into the laps of those sitting opposite. The mountain, known as La Rhune only rises to just over 900 meters above sea level so as peaks in the Pyrenees go, it is only a small mountain, but is home to some interesting animals. The two that caught our fancy were the wild ponies, known as ‘pottocks’ which were totally unperturbed by the train rumbling and groaning past; and the wild sheep known as ‘manechs’. These strange looking animals have long, silky hair that falls almost to the ground, rather like an Angora goat, and then hairless heads which are a reddish-brown colour. They look very odd indeed. We were also lucky to catch sight of one of the huge vultures that have been reintroduced to the area, but it was really high up on a rocky crag and not easy to see at all.
The ride up and down took 35 minutes each way to cover the 4 kilometres of track, and was well worth traveling the distance to experience. The weather stayed clear for us all day and when we returned home at a bit after eight that night, the sun was still high in the sky, something we are still trying to adjust to.
As a last note this week, we would like to say that our thoughts go out to all those who lost loved ones in the Lake District shootings. Although our family was spared being any danger at all, others were not so lucky and we send them our love and condolences.
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