France 2014 Number 7

Winter has returned with a vengeance and this past week has been very cold with icy winds. It didn’t worry us too much on Monday as we had to set to and do the housework. Our charlady has had a rather nasty argument with a motor mower and will apparently be out of action for some time. Having a big hairy Labrador in and out of the house, and wet ground outside, makes for quite a lot of cleaning so we were kept busy for most of the morning. Then it drizzled in the afternoon which was all it took to persuade us to stay indoors. That night the mercury dropped to 2 degrees and by lunchtime the next day had only made it to 6 degrees. A very good day for reading and sewing and listening to the radio. A huge roaring fire in the grate that night not only made us feel better but looked wonderful with the enormous flames leaping up the chimney.

However, the next day we just had to get out and about so we took a short drive to Ruffec about twenty kilometres south of where we are. (By the way, I was looking at some of the back chapters of what I have written and somewhere I noted that the nearest shops to us are twenty kilometres away. I don’t know where that came from because the nearest shops are eight kilometres away.) Ruffec is a quaint little town that seems to have most of what anyone would want and has two large supermarkets, numerous butcheries and bakeries and a number of places to eat ranging from fairly smart restaurants to coffee shops. We were very touched to see that all the trees were wearing leg warmers – how kind!! No, that’s a joke, but the trees really did have knitted or crocheted bands around their trunks, a bit like the pink cloth that was wound around all the trees in Hermanus for  breast cancer month. The knitted pieces are all different colours and must have looked quite spectacular when new, although they are a bit grubby and faded now.

We didn’t get out again until Saturday when cabin fever struck again. This time we went to Civray, also about twenty kilometres away but in an easterly direction. Not as nice as Ruffec but does have a remarkable Romanesque church which has a highly decorated interior. I would never be able to concentrate on the sermon if I had so much to look at! On the way to Civray, we noted three places to look out for on the road back – a chateau, a dolmen and a porcelain factory. At last, something to see apart from churches!

We turned off at the road sign marking the entrance to the chateau and were surprised to find ourselves on a dirt road. All country roads are tarred here, even the most minor of them, so this was very strange. The road deteriorated rapidly, but at the end we could see an imposing gateway so we bounced along toward it. There was no sign to say this was private property, in fact, no sign at all so we slowly crept through the gateway and found ourselves in what looked like the farmyard of a rather large farm. To the left of the gate was a giant pigeon loft in perfect condition but the building straight ahead of us just looked like a large house in rather sad condition. On the right of the gate, with the boundary wall forming its back wall was a small house, partially hidden from view by a very overgrown hedge. There appeared to be someone there, but as we realised that we were on private property, we backed slowly out of the entrance and looked around for some other road that led to the  chateau. Everything looked terribly muddy and unused and we were not prepared to get stuck in the mud, so we finally gave up and went back to the main road. Later when back at home, I looked up the chateau on the internet and discovered that what we had found was, indeed, the chateau, but also that it is privately owned and is not open to the public.

The next item on our list was the dolmen. A dolmen is an ancient burial site marked by three upright stones, with a flat capstone across the tops. Some of them date from 4000 to 3000 BC and the size of the capstones is remarkable. How these ancient people managed to raise the stones in the first place, and then to balance them on the three uprights, is amazing. The thinking is that, at the time, the sides would have been filled in with earth and small stones and more earth piled on top of the capstone to form a mound, but that this lighter material has been weathered away leaving only the ‘skeleton’ of big stones. Anyway, it seemed like quite an interesting thing to go and look at. But when we got to the spot, the parking place had been barricaded off and neither side of the road had any space to stop, so we had no option but to drive on.

Never mind, we thought, we still have the porcelain factory to visit at St Saviol. Imagine our disgust at ourselves when arrived and found the factory still closed for the two hour siesta! Fortunately though, the building has windows on three sides and we were able to see what sort of porcelain it is that they make, and some of the prices. It looked very fine and some items were beautifully decorated, so perhaps it is just as well that they were closed as I may have been persuaded to buy something.

After these three scenic disasters, one would think we would just give up and go home, but there was one more oddity that we were determined to find, and it was, more or less, on the way home. At a tiny place called Pers is something called a ‘Lanterne de Morts’ – a lantern of the dead. Usually erected in a cemetery, these lanterns are generally about seven metres high and are often cylindrical. There is a small door at the base while the top has openings that face the four compass points. There is often a ledge at about table height on the outside of the tower. This was where flowers or other offerings were left. The small door allowed someone to enter the tower and climb to the top where a fire would be lit, and maintained, from the day a person died until the day of burial. They date from about the twelfth century. Luckily we found the church quite easily and the cemetery next door. And there at the bottom of a small incline was the lantern. In this case, it was a square tower with sides of about one metre and easily seven metres tall. It would have to be a really small person who climbed in through the door at the bottom, but they were smaller, then, weren’t they? There were also some very very old grave stones dating from the eleventh century that were covered in engravings and all in a beautifully maintained graveyard. This is something that always amazes me about France, or perhaps it is Europe in general. Here we have a tiny village with no obvious signs of life, and yet the grass verges are neatly trimmed and the graveyard is neat and tidy, and the flowers in the boxes outside the mayor’s office are bright and cheerful and obviously watered regularly. It is something to do with ‘community’ living – something one doesn’t come across very often in South Africa.

France 2014 Number 6

Hooray! We are legal again. On Monday we got an SMS from the Prefecture in Auch to tell us that our new residents cards were ready for collection, so on Wednesday we drove down to collect them. Not really a fun trip as the weather this past week has been quite nasty and cold with a lot of mist which made driving unpleasant. The round trip was in the region of 800 kilometres and took us eleven hours all in all. Of course, that included the stopping time in Auch to pick up the cards, and while we were there to have a cup of coffee and a bite to eat. When we arrived in Auch, we made for our favourite parking area as usual and were horrified to find ourselves being waved away by the police. So there was no option but to drive away from the top of the hill and look for parking elsewhere. But with the big parking area closed, every available space was taken and very soon we found ourselves down at the riverside and cruising slowly along looking for an empty space. At last we found one and as luck would have it, almost at the foot of the stairs up to the top. It is not called the ‘Escalier Monumentale’ for nothing. This monumental staircase has 238 marble steps and that is if you only count the steps that one uses to go up or down. Seen from above, the stairs would resemble a series of interlocking ‘Y’s’ or for those that know embroidery stitches, herringbone stitch. At the top of each upright of the ‘Y’ is a landing with an extra two flights of stairs to the next landing where the next upright starts again. Sounds complicated and it is! A masterpiece of nineteenth century building. A jolly long way up for someone who ‘doesn’t do stairs’, but I managed to get all the way to the top with many stops to admire the view! With the twice-life-size statue of d’Artagnan of the Three Musketeers fame watching our progress, we had to make it all the way. When we finally reached the last step, we discovered that the parking area had been closed for a wreath-laying ceremony at the war memorial which is in the same place, but which was now over, and the parking was more once more open to the public and their cars. If only we had arrived fifteen minutes later………………!

Our route home was along the scary road again with all the trucks and at one stage we overtook thirty four trucks in one convoy. We were so glad to get home safely.

The next day, now that we had got ourselves into driving mode, we thought a little drive out to one of the neighbouring villages would be an idea so off we went to Melle, about twenty kilometres away. It was actually a bit disappointing as the town itself is quite dreary, it’s only claim to fame being three twelfth century churches. Being of that age, there are no spectacular stained glass windows and any stone carvings on the exterior have all weathered quite badly which is a great shame. Melle is also the site of the oldest silver mines in France but unfortunately they are closed for winter at present so we couldn’t go into them. We will just have to make another trip there next month.

On the way to Melle we met the local version of the gentleman with the foreign accent who phones people saying that he is calling from the Microsoft Windows Customer Centre. There we were, driving along admiring the view, when we saw a car pulled off to the side of the road ahead of us. The bonnet was up and a man was peering into the engine compartment. There was no other traffic around at all, so when he flagged us down, we stopped to see if we could help. He came running over and said something in very strange French about ‘petrol’, which we took to mean he had run out of fuel. We offered him a lift to the nearest town to buy some, but when he realised that we spoke English and not French, he switched to rather broken English and asked for money to buy petrol. He then launched in to a long story about his card not being accepted at the filling station although he had plenty of other money with him. He then showed us wads of notes in his wallet which he said were Hungarian, and asked again for ten euros. By this time we were beginning to smell a rat – how could ten euros help with his fuel problem, as we were miles from anywhere; why would he have those strange notes in his wallet when Hungary has been part of the EU since 2003; and why was he so adamant that he didn’t want to be taken somewhere else to get fuel i.e. away from his car? We apologised to him, saying that we had no cash only a card and drove off. The more we thought about it, the weirder it seemed. We are quite sure that it was a scam.

Since then the weather has really deteriorated. Friday and Saturday were icy cold with rain and more mist. Both of us found things to do around the house and the days passed quite pleasantly.

Saturday evening, though, was the highlight of the week. One of our new friends had popped in some time ago and sold us tickets to the annual amateur dramatics group’s show, which this year was a pantomime. They had been practicing for weeks and the result was highly entertaining. Apart from the forgotten lines, the ad libbing and the lack of real acting ability, it was a pretty slick effort and totally hilarious. The audience, consisting mainly of ex-pat British who are well versed in the ways of pantomime, all participated with great enthusiasm and boo-ed or whistled at the appropriate places; interacting with the players as one should. As it was the second night of a two night run, the actors had all gained a bit of confidence and the ad libbing almost got out of hand as more and more of them forgot their lines At one stage there were three actors on the stage looking at each other blankly. Two of them pointed to the third who then cocked her head towards the prompt who was standing in the wings. Being a little deaf, she first moved a bit closer to the prompt then disappeared completely into the wings, only to reappear a moment later with an indignant look on her face and say to one of the other two ‘It was YOU’. The audience howled with laughter. The fact that wine was served both before the show and in the interval probably added to everyone’s wild enthusiasm! It was a great night out and even the fact that it was bucketing with rain couldn’t spoil it.

France 2014 Number 5

If we thought last week was somewhat boring, this week was even more so. This ‘house-sitting’ as opposed to just staying in someone else’s house is proving to be quite restrictive, as far as outings and exploring goes. There always seems to be something that needs doing around the house, and then it is really too late to be starting out for a drive. So perhaps I should concentrate on what we have managed to achieve this week instead of being negative about it.

We had our first day of coping with the char-lady, Veronique, on our own, which proved to be quite entertaining. As I said previously, she speaks no English, really – just a couple of words that she has picked up and which she likes to throw into the conversation in an effort to help us communicate. The results, as you can imagine are sometimes hilarious! However, the house got cleaned, the laundry done and mostly ironed and when she left about two hours later, I’m sure one could notice the difference. There is always a lot of vacuuming to be done as the dog sheds copious amounts of hair which seems to blow around and end up in balls in the corners or under tables and chairs. In which case………..thank heavens for Veronique!

Having now been away from home for almost a month, I decided that it was time to get out my embroidery and do a bit of work on it. Monday was a simply glorious day and I spent most of the afternoon sitting out on the patio with my cross-stitch. That evening, just as we were starting out for our daily walk, one of the people we had recently been introduced to, arrived and stayed and chatted for about half an hour. During this time she also sold us tickets for a pantomime which is being put on in the village by the local amateur dramatic society. I wonder what it will be like. Time will tell.

The next day was still gloriously sunny but a sneaky wind had appeared out of nowhere and was icy cold. Spring may have sprung but winter is not letting go easily. That evening, we had been invited to a neighbour’s house for ‘an aperatif’ and when we got there they had a roaring fire burning, so perhaps we were not the only ones feeling the chill. We spent a chatty few hours them and discovered a number of points of contact. The husband describes himself as ‘half South African’ and still has family there, and in fact they had just recently returned from a trip to the Cape. What a coincidence.

We needed to replenish the tub of dog treats and another tub of suet balls for the birds, both items that come from a particular shop in Poitiers so on Wednesday we went off to do just that. One can get on to the motorway not far from here and then it is only about a forty minute drive, but I found it very scary. I have mentioned before how huge the trucks are here on the Continent and this particular motorway is the direct route from Paris to Bordeaux, so is always very busy. The trucks are not allowed to overtake each other for long stretches where the road is only two lanes in each direction, but this means that they end up driving in convoys of ten to fifteen trucks at a time. And it always seems that we have no sooner passed one lot when the back of the next convoy appears ahead of us and we have to do it all over again. Of course, we are not the only car on the road so when something faster than us wants to overtake, we then have to dive back into the line in amongst the trucks. Not what I call fun at all, so on the way home, we chose some of the back roads and hoped we wouldn’t get lost. We stopped for while in a little village called Rom where there are apparently some really good Roman remains, and mosaics in what was a Roman villa, but they were all covered up for the winter.Next to the twelfth century church there was a small museum though, with some fascinating things in it which had been dug up in the area. The village itself was small and fairly uninteresting except for a coin-operated machine which we found on the corner of one of the streets. It was a baguette machine! The idea was that in villages where there is no bakery where the residents can buy their (literally) daily bread, one of these machines would be installed in a central location. Put your fifty cent piece in the slot and out would come a nice hot, freshly baked baguette. The idea didn’t really take off as most villages without bakeries have a visiting bakery van that comes around every morning and together with your freshly baked baguette, you get a good helping of fresh gossip. No machine can do that! Unfortunately, we couldn’t try out the machine as it apparently has Wednesdays off!

On Thursday we just pottered around. Having been into Sauze-Vaussais to buy some meat, I made a huge curry and froze two thirds of it for later meals. I just had to take a picture of the clock-tower in the centre of town. It looks just like something the pre-schoolers make out of empty toilet rolls, empty boxes and bottletops! Neels spent a long time installing a motion sensor and lights in the workshop, and when I asked why it had taken so long, he told me that he had had to drill holes in the beam above the outside door and that it was so hard that he had to take numerous tries at it. This is in the original part of the building which is built of stone and oak, and is probably a couple of hundred years old. The untreated oak timbers have almost turned to stone as time has passed.

The rest of the week just slid past. Some more of the huge lawn got sprayed with weedkiller and part of it was also cut. This is something that Neels has been looking forward to being able to do. He has a choice of not one, but two, ride-on motor mowers. Mowing about an eighth of the lawn took nearly an hour, so it’s going to be a long job. He also took part of our car to pieces again to get rid of the last of the mouse nest in the ventilation ducts and we hope this is the end of the story. Before he tackled it, the car had been standing for a day or two, and the weather had been fairly warm and the pong when we got into the vehicle was eye-watering to say the least. Enough to convince him that it was a job worth doing, at any rate. We bought an air-freshener last time round at the supermarket and hope that it will manage to override any lingering smells

We have promised ourselves that next week we will make a concerted effort to do some exploring and find some interesting places to take pictures of.

France 2014 number 4

Goodness me! It feels as if we have been really busy all week but when I look at my notes they seem very thin. Monday got us off to a flying start when we met Veronique, the char lady, for the first time. She does not speak English, although she knows a few words which she throws into the conversation somewhat haphazardly, and she giggles a lot. She also must have an accent or something like it as we find it quite hard to understand what she is saying – being used to listening to people from further south, as we are. I can see that communication may well be a problem now and again. Anyway, leaving her to get on with her chores, we were driven off to be introduced to some more neighbours. This time it was an ex-South African and her husband, although she left South Africa so long ago that she has forgotten more about it than she ever knew. It was a strange feeling to sit in their lounge, surrounded by artwork depicting South African wildlife or veld scenes; to be offered a slice of milk tart with our coffee; and to notice odd knick-knacks that quite obviously originated in South Africa but to know that we were actually in France. We may be biased, but we thought they were a really nice couple. That afternoon we declined any further driving around as we felt that our host really needed to pay some attention to packing his suitcase for his flight to South Africa, due to leave the next day.

On Tuesday, we knew that we would be going to Poitiers to take our host to the station, but he suggested that we leave earlier than necessary so that he could show us around Poitiers, pointing out places that we could visit again at our leisure and also to visit a huge shopping mall with a giant supermarket and wonderful other specialist shops. We could even have lunch there! So off we went at about midday, quickly covered the relatively short distance to Poitiers and made our way to the shopping mall. He was right! It is immense. Probably not bigger than Somerset Mall in total area but at least half of it is supermarket, the likes of which I have never seen before. It is as if someone has combined all the food supermarkets that we know in South Africa with Game, Pep Stores, Foschini, Midas and probably a few others too, and has put the entire stock of all those stores under one roof. It is mind boggling! Attached to one side, is the restaurant which has just as many choices. It is a self-service style place with both hot and cold meals, or snacks, on offer and one could choose anything from a hamburger (freshly made) to crayfish tails (cold in a mayonnaise-type sauce). First world countries continue to amaze and impress me and as Neels said, we really did feel like country bumpkins when confronted with a place like this. After lunch, we took a leisurely drive through the old town of Poitiers which has some beautiful buildings, to end up at the station where Chris would  catch his train to the airport in Paris for the flight back south.

The next there days passed quickly with not much to show for it apart from a bundle of freshly washed clothes, a huge container of cooked dog food in the fridge and a number of miles covered looking for a chateau that we had seen on one of our outings. The nearest town to us is Sauze-Vaussais which is about 20 kilometres away and is where we do our shopping. The nearest village though, is about five kilometres away in the same direction and is Clussais-la-Pommeraie. The population is about 600, so ……..not very big. In spite of this though, they have community hall (Salle de fetes) and someone has gone to the trouble of decorating it most beautifully with trompe-l’oeil – those wonderful 3D paintings that trick one’s eye into seeing something that isn’t there. We first noticed it when driving past – there were two children peering around the corner of the building not far from an old man repairing a shoe. Beyond the corner, a cow was tethered and a bit further on was a blacksmith’s forge. We thought nothing more of the front of the building which has a canopy roof that projects out above large plate glass windows, with five square attic windows above that and a sloping tiled roof. It was only when we had to go to the far end of the building to dispose of our recycling bags that we realised that everything above the canopy roof is painted on to a flat wall. It was then too, that we saw the final artwork – a country landscape as viewed through some fine vaulted arches, and that too, is painted on to a perfectly flat wall. The 3D effect is impressive and the artist must be very talented to maintain the perspective over such a large surface.

We eventually had to ask where the chateau was that we were looking for and discovered that we had been just about 180 degrees out in our navigation. Once given the right direction we found it easily but the statue in the garden that I had wanted to photograph was once again in deep shade on the other side of a wall, and I was foiled again! The statue, or statues, represent a pack of hunting dogs attacking a wild boar which is not the most pleasing of topics but it is so well done  and so well placed in the grounds that one could be fooled into thinking it was real rather than stone. Unfortunately, visitors are not permitted into the house or grounds so the only way for us to see this artwork was to clamber up a small , muddy bank and peer over the wall. The chateau is being restored and converted into a hotel and holiday flats so perhaps one day we can return and see the sculptures from the other side.

Which pretty much brings us to the end of the week. The weather has been getting steadily better and better, with the temperatures climbing to 24 degrees on Saturday. The breeze, when it blows, still has an icy nip to it but is getting less frequent. The animals seemed to have accepted that we are here ‘for the duration’ and have settled down well. I think that Duke, the big, black Labrador is missing his ‘Mom’ as he has become my permanent shadow even following me to the loo and bouncing with joy when I re-emerge. I too, for the first time in my life, am having to get used to something different - sleeping with two males in my bed!! Sam, the Burmese cat, prefers to sleep underneath the covers with us, often creeping in once we are asleep and lying between us. I’m terrified that we will squash him but he seems to be quite agile and wriggles away when we get too close. We have continued the established routine of all four of us going for a walk every afternoon and it is quite a sight – me, Neels, Duke and Sam all parading down the lane together. I wish I could get a picture of us all together but someone has to take the photographs!

France 2014 No 3

Our first full week in France started with our usual trip to the Prefecture in Auch to renew our resident’s permits. The car almost drives itself there as the route is so well known and without hesitation, we sailed down the little alleyway next to the Cathedral to the big free parking area where we always get parking. Oh dear! It all looked very full but after crawling around it for a while we decided to try parking up against some railings in the centre of the area. As we were wiggling back and forth in an effort to get as close as possible to the railings, a gentleman came up to the car and said to us, “I really wouldn’t park there if I was you. The police come along every now and again and tow away any cars parked against these railings”. Then he looked around and mentally measured up our car before suggesting that he help us park in a really tight, but legal, space. After seeing us safely into the parking space, he chatted for a while – most of which we couldn’t understand – and then went off. We were totally amazed! After all, can you imagine a stranger in Cape Town doing that for a Cape Town registered vehicle? Possible, but unlikely.

 By now we know the renewal procedure well and all went very smoothly although we had to wait for quite a long time for the queue ahead of us to clear – the first time this has happened. Most of the other applicants appeared to be Eastern Europeans or North Africans which we found a little unsettling but only because we feel somewhat protective about France and feel that it should belong only to the current inhabitants………and ourselves, of course.

With one thing and another, we managed to get home in time for lunch which we ate sitting in the sun on the patio, so Neels decided to give the car a good vacuuming that afternoon. The couple who care for the car while we are not in France had told us of a severe ‘mouse plague’ that they were experiencing, adding that they had liberally scattered mouse bait sachets around the engine compartment of the car. In fact when we drove away from their house the Thursday before, a mouse had leapt onto the ground as the car started moving, and disappeared into the garden.

So having cleaned the interior, he turned his attention to the engine compartment especially the air intake ducts for the heater and fan. He was rewarded with a rush of loose material rattling up the vacuum cleaner hose, which could only have been mouse nests. At that moment a tiny shrew poked it’s nose out of the other end of the duct, but ducked back in when it saw movement. Neels rushed to the other side of the car and poked the vacuum cleaner in that side where he got another satisfying rattle of grass and twigs but no shrew. After much poking and prodding we decided that the creature had escaped and that the ducts were clear. Talking about it later, we realised that the little rodent had travelled with us for about 300 kilometres without falling on to the road!

On Wednesday our ‘car carers’ came to have lunch with us and spent a lovely afternoon chatting and generally catching up. A very relaxed day.

On Thursday the weather changed and there was no more thought of lunching on the patio. We spent most of the day tidying up the house and gathering our bits and pieces ready to pack up and leave the next day. By Friday it was raining fairly consistently and packing the car was not fun. The inside of the car got fairly muddy again, too. We set off at about ten,  with the GPS telling us that we had about 380 kilometres to go to get to our next destination. We did part of the trip on secondary roads, but it was really slow going so we crossed over to the motorway and whizzed north. An enormous black cloud seemed to be constantly ahead of us or over us and during the trip, dropped three hail storms on us. Very small hailstones which were soft enough to splat on the windscreen, but enough of them to lie on the road looking like snow – an amazing sight. We were warmly welcomed at our new house, and were introduced to the big black Labrador, Duke, and the Burmese cat, Sam who will be in our care for the next two months.

Over the past two days our host, Chris, has taken us back and forth, up and down, and in and out of various little villages in the area, giving us a taste of what there is to see and do; where the supermarkets are; and where to eat when we want to eat out. A crash course on the Charente! He will be flying out to South Africa on Tuesday so is trying to give us as much information as he can before leaving. I hope we can remember at least half of it. He has also introduced us to a few people who live nearby whom we can refer to if we get into any sort of a jam. He has taken so much trouble over making us feel at home that we have simply no reason to not feel comfortable here, and I am sure we are going to enjoy every minute of it.