FRANCE 2015 Chapter 19

Our last week in France and still so much that we want to do! But we mustn’t lose sight of the fact that this is supposedly a holiday for us. I’m not really sure why it should be as we are always on holiday, being retirees. However, after another exhausting weekend, we gave ourselves the day off on Monday, to recover. On Tuesday though, packing up started in earnest. How is it possible for two people to accumulate so much in such a short time? In no time at all we had five boxes of assorted sizes all packed to the brim and put into the boot of the car. Meanwhile, Neels washed and polished the car and generally prepared it for its long hibernation.

The following morning, as we went through town we stopped at the station to buy our tickets to Toulouse and were delighted to discover that for some reason , there is a ‘special’ on for Saturday and the tickets were half price. Then it was on again , to the estate agent, to say ‘Good bye’ and ‘Thank you’ until we see him again next year, then finally on to the house to offload all the boxes. This just leaves another three still to go which we will fill with last minute items to take when we go to leave the car there on Friday. Oh dear! It now really feels as if we are leaving.

Wednesday and Thursday also found us fielding several phone calls from various friends and family wishing us a safe trip home, which we were pleased to get. It’s always nice to know that we are in people’s hearts and minds , and, much as we regret having to leave all our new friends (and a few that we already knew), we are really looking forward to getting back to all our ‘old’ friends and catching up on all their news.

On Friday, our host had very kindly said that he would drive out to Ols to fetch us after we had delivered the last few boxes; parked Goldie in her little hidey-hole under the veranda and covered her in her new car cover. As the cover is camouflage green, and about a third of the car is under the veranda, it is almost invisible and hopefully, not in anyone’s way. Our hosts arrived a little while later and admired the house all over again, as well as all our new acquisitions piled in various heaps. We are so bucked that everyone who has seen the house so far has admired it, because we just love it and can’t wait to get back and start putting things in their places and filling up the empty spaces. Friday evening was idyllic – still and peaceful and quiet, with a wonderful golden glow over all the surrounding countryside. We had been invited to have dinner with our hosts as it was our final night with them and we both had to admit to a feeling of genuine sadness at having to leave. I think we have made some very good friends here, and we hope the friendship goes on and on.

All too soon it was Saturday morning and time to squeeze the last things into the suitcases. We were whisked down to the station by our ever-accommodating host, and then in seemingly no time at all, we had ‘done’ the train ride (one and a half hours) and finished the bus ride from the station to the airport (twenty-five minutes) and were sitting in the departure lounge waiting for our flight from Toulouse to Istanbul (four hours). As we sat in Istanbul airport waiting for our flight home we wondered what had happened to the day. We had only spent six hours in actual travel but we had dragged ourselves out of bed at six o’clock in the morning and by the time we were sitting calculating, it was eight o’clock at night – fourteen hours later. What a waste of time travel is!!

After a lengthy and tedious five hour stop-over in Istanbul we boarded a packed plane to Johannesburg at one-thirty a.m. and were served a meal at two thirty. Having already had breakfast at 6.30 a.m., lunch at twelve then a snack at about six p.m., we wondered what this midnight meal could be called. After that we managed to sleep for about four hours before they gave us breakfast again at seven a.m.. It is no wonder that one’s body clock gets so totally out of kilter when travelling. To finish off the day, our Cape Town family were at the airport to greet us and had brought lunch and supper with them. Having lunch at 3 o’clock was beginning to feel quite normal but I’m afraid we faded before we could enjoy the supper they had left here for us, but how we had enjoyed the afternoon with them all. We have missed our children and grandchildren so much over the past four months.

What we were not expecting though, was our re-acquaintance with load-shedding on the power supply. We were about to make some coffee, tea and hot chocolate when we discovered that neither the kettle nor the microwave were working. Having checked all the switches on the circuit board and found none faulty, someone suddenly had the bright idea of trying the lights, which of course also didn’t work and it was then that we realised that we were back in South Africa.

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 18

After our exertions of the previous week, I awoke on Sunday so stiff that I could barely get myself out of bed. Apart from being completely unfit, we had done a lot of walking on cobbles in unsuitable shoes and I was now paying the price. Fortunately the stiffness wore off quite soon and I was quickly back to normal.

We started the new week on a high note as it was the day we went to sign all the preliminary papers for our house. A few weeks earlier we had read a report in the paper about the notaires complaining about the number of copies they have to make of everything, and we realised why. About forty pages of all the details of the house and the sale were read out to us and then we had to sign some and initial others and then we were told that a copy would be sent to us too. It arrived by post the next day, and not one, but two copies came, one in my name and another for Neels. Forty pages each of double sided copies! Ridiculous! And if a syndicate buys a house together for their mutual use, a separate copy would be sent to each of them too, even if they were husbands and wives. However, nothing could dampen our feelings at having signed such an important document -  excitement, anxiety, joy and fear all swirled around in our minds at the huge step we were taking but overall joy won.

We had discovered an enormous second hand goods shop in town which only opens once a week for sales and as that day was Wednesday, we thought it would be a good idea to visit it and see what they had on the floor, and see what the prices were like. The shop is really huge and sells everything one could possibly imagine as well as quite a few things that we couldn’t imagine a use for. There were tables and tables of glass, crockery and cutlery; racks, disappearing into the back of the shop, full of men’s, women’s and children’s clothes; toys; gardening equipment; brooms, brushes and dustpans; furniture of all sorts; elbow, knee and arm protectors for intrepid learner skateboarders, and even snow skis. And probably, as they like to say on lists of sale goods, ‘ other items too numerous to mention’. It was quite sad to see some huge solid wood , carved wardrobes or side boards, that must have come from some large mansions and been disposed of as too big for a modern house. And being sold for a nominal price. All that wonderful work being just given away!

Every now and again, perhaps once a month or so, a restaurant in Vabre Tizac does a special fish and chips lunch for the British ex-pats who live in the area. Friday was one of those days so the four of us went off at the appointed time and found quite a gathering of people already chattering in the bar. A few of them we had already met but others were new acquaintances, but everyone was friendly and by the time we sat down to eat we had spoken to most people. We all sat at a long table which made conversation a little difficult and the noise level rose in direct proportion to the amount the level of wine dropped in the carafes! Everyone seemed to have a good time and the fish was quite delicious. There was also a salad starter, cheese and dessert, followed by coffee. Far more than our normal midday meal and most people seemed a little sleepy at the end of it.

The next morning we were up at a reasonably early hour ready to hit the long road down to Peyrusse Vieille in the Gers, and beyond, to collect some furniture we had bought from a couple who were selling up and returning to the UK. On the way down we drove along one of the avenues of trees that we love so much. There has been much discussion lately about these trees and some people say that they are dangerous and should be chopped down. We say that people should be taught to drive more carefully and there would be fewer accidents. The French are not bad drivers on the whole, and respect the speed limits and things like that so if they were made to slow down for the trees, perhaps the trees could stay.

Our very good friends who have looked after our car for the last five years, during the months that we are not in France, had offered to help us with transport, so after calling in at their house we carried on in convoy. Over the next three hours, the men worked like Trojans dismantling things and collecting everything together so that we could pack the cars. Somehow, it all went in and we returned to Peyrusse Vieille for the night. The next morning we were back on the road again, still in convoy, all the way to the new house where everything was again unpacked and stacked in the house. I cannot believe that so much came out of only two cars! Because, although we had agreed to take a certain number of items,  when it actually came to the day, we found more and more bits and pieces being pressed upon us until we despaired of ever getting the doors closed in the cars! When we finally unpacked at journey’s end, we couldn’t believe the amount we had got packed in. The lady of the house kept on asking if we had ‘enough ‘padding’ around various corners of boxes and cupboards and so on, and then producing something to use for this purpose. When we sorted it all out after the trip, we found that we had been given three brand new pillows; four duvets of varying sizes; about eight lovely thick blankets and a whole bag of assorted sheets. To say nothing of the boxful of handy tools, including an electric drill, and numerous fittings and cables all of which will come in very handy in the future.

On the way home, we drove through a town called Septfonds which was having a huge ‘Vide Grenier’ which stretched up and down the pavement for quite a distance a swell as into the Community Hall. There were a lot of items going cheaply that could have been put to good use, but sadly, the cars were full to bursting. While we enjoyed a cup of coffee there, there was a sudden commotion as a car pulled up and out climbed the most extraordinary character. None of us were fluent enough to understand all the banter, but the fellow looked so strange that I had to take a picture of him. He reminded us of the students who dress up for Rag Week to collect funds from passing motorists, but this chap was the only one in fancy dress and didn’t seem to be collecting. Very odd indeed.  Vive la France!

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 17

What a week! Monday was a blur of shopping, cleaning and getting ready for our guest who arrived the next day. We had to move the furniture around a bit to make a little corner of privacy and we think it worked fairly well. So bright and early next morning we were again on the way to Rodez airport, feeling that, as we had done that route twice there and back already in the not too distant past, we would get there in double quick time. However, not listening to ‘Jane’ often proves to be the wrong course of action, and once again we took a scenic route but luckily still managed to arrive before the plane did.. How excited I was at the thought of seeing my sister again after so much time. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally appeared through the ‘Arrivals’ door and we flung ourselves at each other hugging madly. Then it was back to the ‘gite’ to dump her luggage etc, have a quick lunch and go off to visit and show off ‘our house’. She was suitably impressed and immediately started imagining various pieces of furniture in their places. All in all we spent a couple of hours there wandering back and forth through the five rooms that it consists of, talking all the time!

The talking continued until quite late at night but we eventually got to bed  not too late which was good as we had decided that the following day would be a picnic day at Belcastel, one of our favourite villages. The day turned out sunny if a bit gusty  at times but we still had an excellent day out. This time all the flowers were out and there were a lot of other visitors to the village so it seemed more ‘alive’. Carol was entranced with the whole place and was sorry that she had not got a small pocket-sized camera that she could have brought with her, but she made up for the lack by taking a mass of pictures on her phone. After enjoying our picnic lunch eaten under a willow tree on the banks of the river, we went up to the top of the hill and found that the chateau was now open for visitors. We were a bit dubious about going in, thinking that it was really quite expensive, but Carol was very keen and ended up by treating us to the tour. We had no guide, but we were given a folder in English which led one from area to area in the chateau, following the numbers shown on the walls. What we might have missed!!! The interior of the chateau is not lavishly furnished, in fact there is very little furniture in it, but what there is, is quite magnificent. As one ambles around following the guide book, one proceeds through room after room; up and down spiral staircases, and across terrifying wooden planked walkways. As the current owners of the chateau are also the owners of a large art gallery in New York, it is not surprising that there are three galleries devoted to exhibitions of art. Two large rooms make up the armoury with a number of suits of armour on display, together with two life-sized statues of horses in armour complete with armoured riders. One suit of armour, which is kept behind glass looks as if it is gilded or made of highly polished brass, and is covered in wonderful light relief carvings. It was obviously a ‘dress suit’ as no-one would wear such a highly decorated suit into battle.

All in all we must have spent about two hours in the castle and had to hurry back as we had invited our hosts down to have drinks and snacks with us. One way and another, it turned into another late night, so it was just as well that we could have a lie-in the next morning, while we waited for our hairdresser lady to show up and give us much needed haircuts. As we had had an early lunch before  she arrived, we could dash off as soon as she left to go into Villefranche de Rouergue. Carol wanted to get a few things to take back with her and then we took her into the centre of town and showed her the medieval part around the cathedral and the Town Square. Once again we took our time about it and then had to scurry before going upstairs to have dinner with our hosts. Oh dear! Another late night!

Friday, and Carol’s last day with us and the weather just wasn’t playing fair. After several bright but cloudy days, this last day started off cool and rainy, but we had planned to take quite a long drive north to the town of Conques. Started as a Benedictine monastery, around which a small town grew, Conques has now become a major stop-over point on one of the many Routes to Santiago de  Compostela . We have a friend who works in the accommodation section of the Abbey who tells us that at the height of the season, they can have as many as 1800 people per night in the dormitories. There are still monks who live there and who carry on their normal monastic life and duties while a  number of lay people work with, and around them, seeing to the needs of the pilgrims.

By the time we arrived there, the weather had cleared a little, so leaving all our wet-weather gear in the car, we strolled down to the town where we decided to have lunch straight away as we knew that going around the cathedral alone, would take quite some time. By now it was quite hot in the sun and the kind restaurateur lowered the canopy over the outside tables to afford some shade. As we ate, we watched the people passing, many of whom were displaying the scallop shell of St. Jacques, or striding along with the help of pointed steel walking sticks and sturdy hiking boots which identified them as possible pilgrims.

The cathedral, as is so common, is colossal, and sturdy, built as much for defence as for worship. From front to back it measures 56 metres with the dome above the nave soaring to 21 metres. Why should  such an out-of-the-way village have such a huge church, one might ask. It is all due to a little girl called Faith. As a fifteen year old, she was martyred for her Christian beliefs along with her sister and a handful other adults. Up until that time she had become renowned for her miraculous powers  and her beheading caused some discontent among the locals. Soon after, she was declared a saint and the original chapel that had stood on the site was demolished to make way for the grand building we see today, dedicated to St Foy. ( Foi in French, is Faith) Relics of St Faith, or St Foy if you like, can be seen in the crypt of the cathedral. There is little interior decoration to be seen, although according to Benedictine rules, there is nothing to prevent it, and there are no stained glass windows.  The windows which had been put in place after WWII, which were mostly diamond shaped pastel coloured glass were replaced in 1994 by a renowned artist Pierre Soulages. who designed all 104 windows.  Not to everyone’s taste, the windows are composed of stripes going in different directions, of pale shades of blue to grey. From outside, it appears as if the glass Venetian blinds are drawn, and I personally, would prefer traditional Medieval style windows in glorious colour.

When we came out of the cathedral, it was just starting to drizzle a bit but we persisted in our walk around town until the rain became too heavy and we had to head back to the car and home. We will definitely go back again.

We finally got home again at about 7 pm but none of us felt like a meal due to our large lunch, but it didn’t stop us from talking. We still had SO much to talk about and in the end, guess what? Yes………it was another late night! Not a good idea when the alarm clocks had to be set for 6.30 the following morning, but we managed to rouse ourselves at the appointed hour and get Carol to the airport in time for her flight back to the UK. It has been such a special few days and we will treasure the memories of them.

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 16

I just cannot believe that it is weekend again! How this week has flown!  Let me see just what we have been doing to make it fly. Not very much really but it has been unbelievably hot – even by South African standards. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were well up, even into the 30’s, but happily by Saturday morning it had cooled off a bit and for the next week at least, there will be nothing higher than about 28 degrees.

On Tuesday we had a fairly early start as we had to be at the Rodez airport at 10.30 to fetch our hosts from their holiday in Scotland. There was no real need to ask how the weather had been – they arrived bundled up in warm gear and started stripping off almost at once. It was a bit like a practise run for the following day when we set off for Auch – again – to fetch our new permits. The office is only open until midday every day, so we didn’t want to be late and planned to leave at 8 am. However, so nervous of being late, we were ready to go at 7.30 and three hours later were at our destination. As we had a lunch appointment with my cousin for midday we were way too early but managed to while away the time drinking coffee and ambling up and down the old streets. It was extraordinarily hot and we drove back ‘home’ again with the windows wide open blowing us to bits. Some people may ask whether it was worth a six-hour drive and four hundred and fifty kilometres to fetch two little plastic cards the size of a driving licence, but our answer is ‘Quite definitely’. We didn’t stop anywhere along the way as most of the trip was on highways which go well clear of the picturesque areas and photo opportunities were minimal.

The next day though, we were shattered and with the temperature soaring again we decided that enough was enough and stayed at home, and indoors where it is relatively cool. We had planned to go into town and hunt for some cool blouses for me to wear, but just couldn’t face the thought of fitting rooms, so that plan was delayed until the next day. When Friday turned out to be almost as hot again, we waited until after lunch before we ventured into town hoping that it would be a bit cooler. It wasn’t really, but since I found two blouses, I considered the afternoon a great success. Then I had to spend most of Saturday shortening the one………….by hand! Goodness! How long is it since I had to do that! Just as well though, because I wore that blouse on Sunday and was thrilled to feel cool again.

While I was busy sewing, the two men were out in the hot sunshine setting up the heating apparatus for the pool. When it was uncovered for the first time on Wednesday, the water temperature was 15 degrees and by Friday the top layer had gone up to 21 but underneath that it was still very cold. So they have a cunning method of circulating the water through black pipes laid on the ground to warm the whole pool. The ground where the pool is had to be built up on the far side  to make a big enough level area for the pool and this steep bank conveniently faces south, and gets sun pretty much all day, so large sheets of continuous piping are laid on the bank and fastened in place. Then, at the end of the summer, it is all disassembled again and put away carefully in the barn. Neither of us brought costumes which is a shame, as the pool looks really inviting.

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 15

This week I have published a batch of pictures separately so that those of you who kindly print this out for other friends can possibly print only the text which will save a few sheets of paper

It was Thursday before we thought that the weather was settled enough to go for a day’s outing. In fact, it was one of those days that just get better and better. We hadn’t really planned a route but settled for something in a more or less southerly direction, avoiding, as far as possible, places that we had already visited. For anyone who wants to find our route on the map, we left here, Vabre Tizac, went on to la Salvetat Peyrales, then to Crespin, followed by St Just sur Viaur. Here we made a short detour, which put poor ‘Jane’ into a dreadful state and she kept imploring us to ‘turn around when possible. When it became quite obvious that we were not going to turn around, she tried to recalculate the route but couldn’t and insisted that the road was closed. And still we went on. She was right, of course. The road was closed, but this is what we had detoured to see. A few years ago, the road would have dipped down below an impressive railway bridge, before descending into the valley below and up the other side again. However, that part of the road is now closed for two reasons – one is that there is a wonderful new double-lane highway a few kilometres away, and the other is that the railway bridge is undergoing major repairs and driving under it could be quite hazardous. And the repairs are not before time either! Built in 1902, this steel  girder bridge was the first steel bridge built in France. As modern bridges go, it is not very long, being only 460 metres across with the central cantilevered arch making up almost half of that distance. The River Tarn rushes along over numerous small rapids, 116 metres below. After more than a century of use, the steel is showing signs of rust and other decay and is due to be out of action until the end of the year. Meanwhile, passengers wishing to travel from Rodez to Albi are transported by bus.

After admiring the bridge we returned to the route ‘Jane’ had planned for us and continued on to Requista where we had lunch sitting in the shade of an umbrella at a pavement café. We got talking to an elderly person whom Neels thinks was a woman and I think was a man, but who was quite entertaining for a short chat. We will have to think about that one for a while!

Having finished our lunch, we debated whether to start the return journey from there but eventually decided to carry on a bit further, to Brousse le Chateau. This is listed as one of France’s most beautiful villages and we can certainly see why. It is a beautifully restored and maintained medieval village set in a horseshoe bend on the banks of the river Tarn. The chateau is set on the highest point of the village, inside a wall, with a row of houses forming an additional wall outside that. The whole village is absolutely spotless and several houses have brilliant red roses climbing up the outside walls. In fact, the flowers everywhere were just wonderful. It is really remarkable how every inhabitant of these villages does his or her part in keeping the place clean, tidy and full of pretty flowers.

We walked around the village admiring it all and taking lots of pictures before deciding that we should think about turning for home. With the idea that going there and back on the same road gives one two different views of the passing countryside, we decided to just retrace our route and see what we missed on the outward trip. This time we didn’t make a detour to the old railway bridge, so instead found ourselves whizzing over the new concrete road bridge. We rather wondered if this was an ‘anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better’ project. The new bridge is 570 metres long and 120 metres above the river for a start, but where the old railway bridge is solid and black, and is supported by a latticework of steel girders, the new one appears to float across the landscape, supported on the thinnest of pillars. It is quite beautiful actually.

Shortly after that we came to a turnoff that I had noticed on the way ‘out’. It said ‘Castelmary’ and had the Heritage Site logo on it. So we turned off to go and investigate.  What a strange sight met us! A small hill was at the top end of a rough loop that ended at the bottom of the hill in a magnificent fortified tower. The sides of the loop were houses that had probably once formed the protective walls around the small community. On the hillock were the ruins of a once-great castle, complete with turrets and battlemented walls. Nowadays though the ruins are almost completely overgrown and are obviously neglected. However, in front of the old ruins, is a more modern building and quite the most extraordinary one we have seen in a long time. Because the hill is fairly steep, it is built on several levels but it was the roof and the wall decorations that really amazed us. The roof is a peaked roof covered in split stone as is the style around here – nothing unusual in that, except that the roof was also covered in extra little four-sided peaks dotted all over it like horns or spikes. Each one was tiled in the same materials as the main roof but on a smaller scale, and because the stones shine in the sunlight, it looked for all the world as if the roof was wearing medieval armour. The walls, too, were decorated with various big and little sculptures and plaques. At the front of the house was a portico over nothing, with a little wooden train on a ledge inside it and a plaque honouring someone but it didn’t say what for – perhaps something to do with the train??

We walked up the driveway which was the only way up to the ruins behind the house, and to our surprise, there was another, smaller house hidden away there also with spikes on the roof. They are the strangest looking buildings I have ever seen.

Friday was another very good day, because apart from being really good weather, we received an SMS that we have been waiting for, for a very long time. It was to say that our new permits are ready for collection so we are planning to go down to Auch some time soon to get them. I won’t be entirely over the moon until I have them in my hand, but the news itself was very welcome.

I think I have mentioned from time to time how much Neels enjoys driving along the really twisty roads and lanes which abound in this area. To show you just what he enjoys I took a picture of the TomTom (Jane) while we were going down a hill recently. The road we were travelling on is indicated in red, so one can easily see what is coming – in this case a couple of really tight hairpin bends.

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 15 (Pictures only)

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 14

A much better week all round! We set off early to go and do battle with the bureaucrats in Auch, this time determined not to return to our friends who had so generously being looking after us. Not because we had gone off them, but we knew we had to get back as we had promised to take our other hosts to the airport the following morning. The first set back was that was simply not an inch of parking in the parking area. After trailing around the area for about four times, we gave up and drove out getting ever further away from where we wanted to be. Eventually we found ourselves in the road below the Catherdral (which is next to the Prefecture, and where we wanted to be) and hey presto! there was a parking space directly below the ‘Escalier Monumental’ – the Great Staircase. I know I have mentioned this landmark before but to re-cap, this wonderful staircase has several flights of steps each about 4 metres wide with twelve flights of approximately twenty steps. Some have more, a few have less but they total 297 steps in all. And you know how I just love steps! As we struggled up them we were hoping that the office would not be closed today as well, seeing that nothing really opens on a Monday here. We took a few minutes to admire the oversize statue of d’Artagnan (of the Three Musketeers fame) who was born in the area before going on.

When we got to the Prefecture, we were delighted to find it open and even more delighted to find our friendly assistant behind the desk. She was so understanding and helpful. After some discussion, it was decided that we would cancel our application for a ten year extension at this stage and re-apply for a one year renewal as usual, as the card could be ready within three weeks. Most of the delay was our own fault, and I have to admit to it. In the first place, the address they have used for us for the past five years is not where we are currently staying so when the Gendarmes went to find the people who had applied to stay in France for ten years, we were not there. Then they went to the local Mayor’s office, but we had neglected to leave our contact details with our friend, the Mayor’s secretary so she couldn’t tell them where we were. After that, we further complicated things by not getting in touch with her again for some weeks, and so it went on. So we can hardly blame the bureaucrats or the system, however convenient that would be.

So our return to the Aveyron was a much more pleasant trip than when we went down to the Gers. It was a lovely sunny day but not too hot, so driving was a pleasure. We made good time on virtually traffic-free roads and were in good spirits all the way.

The next morning was an early start for us in order to get our hosts to Rodez airport in time for their flight to the UK. It is not far – about 45 minutes drive, but we decided to come home a more scenic way and soon found ourselves cruising through the spectacular Aveyron Gorge, with river on our one side and towering cliffs on the other. The day had started off rainy but cleared a bit and allowed me a quick snatch of sun to snap a picture as we were about to drive through a tunnel along the road. Quite weirdly, it was raining again at the other end of the tunnel.

The rest of the week passed uneventfully. Our house purchase is going ahead and we are being guided through the process by a local notaire who fortunately has an English speaking assistant. We have had one meeting with her this past week and will no doubt have another in about two weeks time. Their aim is to get all the preliminary work done before we leave, as the final signing off can be done by the notaire himself. And then we will be the proud owners of a holiday house in France!

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 13

Aah! I have just realised something that could account for the week we have just had. It is Week 13!

After much thought and debate over last weekend, we decided that our first course of action wold be to contact our friendly Mayoral secretary and ask her advice – again. However her first working hours of the week were on Monday afternoon so we had to wait until after 2 pm to phone her. She was a bit horrified to hear that we had not got any further and suggested that we visit the Gendarmerie in Nogaro in person. At this stage we didn’t even know why the police were involved, but made plans to drive down on the Wednesday – her next working day, for her to check that all our documents were in order. She also phoned ahead to the Gendarmerie to say that we were coming. Then she started talking about having to be fluent in French; to having to spend more than half the year here and possibly passing some sort of oral test  on France. We were obviously shocked at all this until she pointed out that on the temporary extension of last years permit, was written ‘Carte de Sejour’ and not ‘Titre de Sejour’ and explained that we were having to jump through all these hoops because it  had apparently been changed from a request for a visitor’s permit to one for permanent residence. We were horrified but didn’t want to appear to be and spoil a rather nice (and helpful) friendship. Anyway she insisted that it would help to go and see the police and get that out of the way even if it turns out to unnecessary, so off we trotted to the police station in Nogaro where we found a very bewildered young policeman who hadn’t the foggiest idea why we were there. However, after a phone call to the appropriate section of the Prefecture in Auch, he laboriously took down all our details and thanked us for coming in. It was quite an unsatisfactory meeting really as we didn’t really know why we were there and he obviously didn’t know why we were there, but anyway, it was done

When we planned the drive down to Espas  and Nogaro, the idea was to spend Wednesday night with our friends, the, next morning, go off to Auch; find out what on earth was going on and then continue on to Vabre Tizac. But we found out that Ascension Day is a holiday of note in France and no-one was working that day . Don’t worry, said our friends, Stay an extra day and you can go on tomorrow. So on Friday morning we packed up all our stuff, said our goodbyes and thank you’s and set off for Auch. Only to find that the Prefecture was taking a long weekend off and they were still closed!

We now had a problem. Not from our friends’ point of view as they had already assured us that if anything went wrong we were just to return to them. No. We were now seriously running out of clothes. When we packed on Tuesday evening, I had looked at the weather forecast and seen that the expected high for Auch on Wednesday was going to be 34 degrees, dropping to about 25 the following day, we had brought a change of knickers, socks and shirt for one day and had not even contemplated putting in a cardigan or jacket. How wrong could we be! The whole trip down was overcast and quite cool, but not really cold. The next day while we were here with our friends was reasonable but chillier and Friday was downright freezing! Washing doesn’t dry very well in that sort of weather and seeing that I hadn’t a wrap of any sort, we decided a trip to the big supermarket was essential. There we found a fleece for me and knickers for both of us but finding an extra top for me was not easy. Supermarket clothing is designed for sylph-like French and even the largest size of the rack was not going to fit, but in the end and in despair, I settled for a t-shirt and was glad to have it as it is warmer than the two cotton shirts I had with me.

The next thing was our cell phone. Who on earth carries the chargers around for a one night stay? Not me, anyway. I knew it wouldn’t run the battery flat in the time that we would be away, but I hadn’t bargained on being away longer than one night, or on the number of phone calls we would have to make to let various people know that we were staying on; not coming back or whatever. Luckily our friends have a phone which is as ancient as mine and the charger plug fitted. Phew!

It hasn’t been all wasted time though. On Thursday morning we managed to fit in a brief visit to my cousin who we wouldn’t have otherwise seen this time round and on Thursday afternoon we visited a couple who are selling up and returning to Britain to live in already furnished accommodation. If and when the house sale goes through, we will need furniture for it and this was a good opportunity to acquire some items at less than cost price.

Friday, as I have described was a day to forget and on Saturday we visited another of the local friends who is Dutch and hilariously funny. She talks quite a lot but is so entertaining that the time flew and certainly took our minds of all the nastiness of the day before. While we were at her house, our host ‘rotovated’ her vegetable patch – a bit like ploughing it up – in readiness for the new seasons planting.

On Sunday there was a garage sale at the house of another lot of people who were selling up before moving back to the UK. How I wished that our house- buying plans were further advanced than they are. I could have picked up a load of real bargains! In the end, I settled for a set of six coffee mugs and a coffee pot on a tray, and three books, one a huge English/French dictionary, one a lovely coffee table book on French villages and another book on living in France. For all that, we paid eleven euros, which I thought was a bargain.

I am sorry that there are no pictures this week. Put it all down to us being somewhat distracted. Our visit to the Prefecture has now been postponed until Monday and once again we will hope that someone will be able to sort our problems for us.

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 12

And still we wait! In spite of the week seeming to have flown by, all it really means is yet another week without our permits to stay here. Both of us are getting quite despondent about the whole matter as there seems to be no-one that we can approach to find out why everything is taking so long, or whether anyone is doing anything at all. The house purchase is in limbo as it can only go ahead when we have permission to stay and the exciting part like going to second-hand sales and car boot sales to see what ‘treasures’ we can pick up to put into the house has had to be put on hold. What a good thing we have delayed our return date to the 28^th June.

I say that the week has flown past but we have done practically nothing all week. We roused ourselves out of our depression on Wednesday to work on the car which was a much needed job. Ever since the mice got into the engine compartment of the car before last year’s trip to France, the three speed interior fan has had only one speed – flat out. So first of all we researched the matter via the Internet and found that most people advised buying a new fan motor. Not good news at all for my Mr Fix-it! More bad news was that he would have to remove the whole dashboard of the car to get to said motor. The online car parts sites were even worse. They informed us that a new motor would set us back about 300 Euros. Too much! Then we discovered a wonderful person (on line) who pooh-poohed all the above and gave a completely different diagnosis for the problem, which, if it was correct, could be relatively easily be fixed.

No sooner said than done! In minutes we had the car in the driveway and parts strewn around to enable us to get to the part we needed to remove. It took a while and some contortions but eventually it was out. The whole job was made a lot more difficult because the car was originally designed for left-hand drive and our car is right-hand drive and as the fan motor sits more or less above the steering column, one needed double jointed hands and wrists to get it out and to replace it. After some time it finally got done and the repair worked, so we could put it all together again and now we have a three-speed fan again, just in time for summer! I am glad that we were alone on the day as I can’t imagine what we must have looked like when we were trying to extricate the thing. Neels was half kneeling on the ground next to the car with his upper body in the driver’s side foot well, twisted around so that he could see up into the works behind the steering wheel, while I was lying on the passenger seat on my back with my head also in the driver’s side foot well, shining a torch vaguely in the direction of where he wanted light. Thank heavens no-one was around with a camera!

Thursday started off misty but, as so often is the case, brightened up and turned into a brilliant afternoon. Now all fired with enthusiasm for ‘doing things on the car’, we went to hunt down a second-hand car parts shop in one of the industrial areas of Villefranche. (We get to some really exciting places, don’t we?!) After a while there, without buying anything in the end, and as we were already on the road to somewhere called Monteils, we thought we may as well enjoy the good sunshine and carry on.

We didn’t think the village of Monteils was anything special but they have a most lovely park with a river running through it which I imagine would be packed with people over the weekends. The lawn between the trees is all beautifully trimmed and certainly looks an inviting place to picnic. We took a different route back which brought us through Sanvensa which we had bypassed on a previous occasion.

This small village is built in an oval shape around what was previously the grounds of the chateau and its church. The name is a corruption of St. Vincent, original patron of the church. Today, the chateau and the church are quite separate and the houses have spread beyond the original oval but it is a dear little village with pretty flowers wherever they can find place for them.

Friday the 8^th May is a Public Holiday in France, it being the commemoration of VE day. (Victory in Europe) There are bound to be ceremonies all over France and wreaths laid at all the war memorials in honour of the fallen. But it is not all serious stuff. Some of the bigger centres have brass bands and other activities going on. In Vabre Tizac, for example, they organised a sponsored run as part of the day. There is a path that leads down to the village, next to the house where we are staying – one of those ‘five minutes down and five hours back’ kind of paths – which formed the first half kilometre of the run. What a way to start! By the time the ‘runners’ got up to us here, they were puffing and panting and reduced to walking, and this was only the beginning! Actually, I later found out that some people had done a single lap of the route while others, made of stronger stuff, had completed a double lap, As this included doing the steep uphill section twice and I must have seen them on their second lap, and now feel they were fully entitled to be puffing and panting. And all of this was going on in the rain too!

This afternoon when the two men went off to play cars with a friend down the road, I took my embroidery and sat out on the patio in the shade. It was heaven! Whenever I looked up I was confronted by the fifty shades of green that I wrote about before only now they have become even more intense. Masses of birds were twittering and calling; a raucous crow had a lot to say; and once again, down in the forest in the valley, the cuckoo was striking the hours. Some sort of beetle was making a continuous rasping noise but it was not unpleasant, while two huge birds of prey that possibly have a nest in the same forest as the cuckoo, flew up and up and up, soaring higher and higher until they were out of sight.

I am sure I have said this before, but I am always struck by the number of blue flowers that we see in France. Perhaps we notice them because there are fewer of them in South Africa. Our own Spring flowers seem to be more reds, oranges and yellows while here we see blue, mauve, purple and violet. Perhaps it is because blue is my favourite colour that my eye is drawn to them but whatever the case, they are very pretty.

Hold thumbs that we hear about our permits during this coming week.

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 11

The rain that started last Sunday afternoon continued all night and on into Monday. What a bore! On Tuesday though it had cleared up and we went off to see the little house that we (as a family) have bought. We haven’t been given the keys officially yet but we know where they are kept so could let ourselves in and have good look around without an agent looking over our shoulders. While we were in the house, there was a knock at the door and there stood the village Mayor, to whom we had introduced ourselves a week or so back. He introduced himself again – in case we had forgotten that he was the Mayor, perhaps – and chatted away for a few minutes. Very friendly and welcoming and not at all put out by the fact that our French is still not fluent. We explained that the house was to be used for holidays for ourselves and our family, which I think he got the gist of. Why does one’s vocabulary always desert one at the time it is most needed!

The rest of the week was rather quiet apart from Friday which happened to be the 1^st of May. It is a tradition in France that on the first day of May, a spear of lily-of-the-valley flowers, known as muguet here, is given out to friends and family as a token of future good luck and happiness. It’s a charming tradition that I thought had been going for centuries but apparently it was only started in the early 20^th century when the flowers were sold to signify the beginning of Spring. So I did a little more research on the plant and discovered, to my horror, that the whole thing – stems, leaves and flowers – is extremely poisonous. What a strange gift for good luck and happiness! It is growing in the garden here, and I did consider picking a piece to take upstairs, where we had been invited for lunch, but I am now very glad that I didn’t. Instead we were treated to a magnificent meal by our hostess. Is everyone around here a wonderful cook? It certainly seems like it.

On Saturday it was again ‘out with the ladders’ as the two men battled with the last piece of the porch cover. Once again it was a ballet of balancing one foot on each of two ladders for one of them while the other juggled heavy power tools without falling off the narrow ledge at the end of the porch, but they got the job done. Let’s hope the next bit of DIY is less nerve-wracking to watch.

On Sunday we were taken along to a wine tasting in Villefranche. More of a wine show than a tasting really. There were about forty stalls in a large hall, most of which represented wine growers of the area; a couple from a bit further away. There was a also a display of pocket knives which are made here in Villefranche; a stall of olives and olive oil; one selling chutneys and jellies to accompany your meat and other savoury dishes; a stand of dried ham and sausage; one with the biggest chunks of nougat I have ever seen; another of macaroons and various sweet loaves, and finally, a stand selling wonderfully aromatic spices. When I say ‘biggest chunks of nougat’, I really mean that. After all we are used to seeing and buying nougat in neat little bars, cellophane-wrapped and very hygienically displayed. These were huge cakes of the sweet –probably about twenty centimetres high and thirty in diameter. And not just one, or two of them but a whole lot on the table and who knows how many more out of sight. I had never realised just what a popular delicacy it is here in France. .After doing a circuit of the hall, another circuit had to be made, stopping at some of the stalls to try their wares, and to buy some of the product, and then we went around again in case we missed anything!

On the way home, we did a slight detour through Morlhon so that I could at last get a close up view of the church with the lacy steeple. It really does exist and is not just an optical illusion and is old but not ancient. In fact it was built just after the First World War, but has lovely stained glass windows done in the classical style. Old style windows always have such wonderfully rich colours and these are like that. I imagine that the concrete steeple can be attributed to the fact that there was a shortage of iron and steel after the war and this made a good substitute. It is certainly novel even if it does look a little strange above the lovely old red stone walls

And so we have come to the end of another week.

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 10

At long last we managed to find time to visit one of the small towns near us – namely St Salvadou. We drove through it some time ago and thought it was rather dreary, but now, with the gardens all planted up and a few spring blooms in evidence, we have changed our minds. It is, in fact, quite an attractive little town with most of the houses built of the lovely pale local stone, with black roofs. The church, of course, towers over everything as ever. Apart from a roofer who was doing some repairs to one of the houses, everything was closed and silent. Will we never learn??!! It was, of course, Monday, the day when everything closes. Still, it gave a us a chance to look around. We had hoped to drive on to another village close by, but, would you believe it, it started raining so we headed for home again instead.

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful with the weather very unsettled, so the men got on with the front porch cover. One day was too windy to be handling huge sheets of extra-thick glass; another was too wet, so it was Thursday before they could really get stuck in to the job. Earlier in the week they had managed to pull, push, shove, haul and lift the very heavy framework, with one pane of glass in it, up into position, so now it was a matter of getting the second pane in. It was fairly nerve-wracking to watch as they manoeuvred the large, slippery, heavy piece of glass into place – one standing on the porch, the other teetering on a narrow ledge outside about six feet up. But it was done, and on Saturday the third (and last) piece was put in, so the job was almost done.

On Friday we had been invited to meet some other ex-South Africans who settled here about five years ago and have been spending their time restoring an old cottage to live in. The meeting had been arranged by Jayne, the lady who came and cut our hair, who is English. She and her husband live not too far away from the ex-South Africans and are good friends. What a delightful and entertaining group they all turned out to be. We had been invited for about 3.30 pm, so, with an hour and a half’s drive ahead of us we left the house at 2 pm, not sure whether we had been invited for tea or early dinner, but looking forward to it. From where we are to where they live, we had to first meander down in to the Aveyron River valley and then climb up, up and over the Aubrac Hills before going down again to the Dourdou River valley and once more up again. It was quite a trip, but we had been given very precise instructions on how to get there. I loved the one bit that said, “….bear left at the iron horse” and couldn’t wait to find out what that was. It turned out to be another of these animal sculptures such as we had seen in Baraqueville – this time a life-sized horse made out of welded together bits and pieces of old iron. They are amazing art works.

During the drive when we had climbed up the Aubrac Hills, we reached a certain point which was the highest in the area and the views were incredible. The day was sunny and warm, so there was a little bit of haze on the horizon, but even so, we could almost see forever. When we returned later that night, in the dark, we could see lights twinkling on and on and on. So pretty.

Our ex-South African hosts were Alan and Michelle and Alan had kindly offered to meet us in a small town nearby and lead us to their house, but when we arrived at the meeting place in St Cyprien-sur-Dourdou, he suggested that we leave our car where it was and go in his car, and he would take us on a scenic route back to the house. Only too delighted, we hopped into his car and off we went. First, he took us along the Dourdou River to an ancient Roman Bridge which is still used today. According to Alan, the bridge is even used by delivery trucks as long as they are narrow enough to fit between the side walls. This is an amazing fact as the bridge is almost two thousand years old. From that point, the medieval town of Conques and the Abbey of St Foy is around a bend in the river, but  Alan said that visiting the town would take a whole day, so instead we drove up the hill to a view-site overlooking the town. It is certainly a spectacular town and one that we must definitely visit soon. It is one of the major stopping places on the Route to Compostella  and pilgrims are still accommodated in the abbey and cared for by the monks. Our hostess for the evening, Michelle, works in the Abbey and told us that at times and in season, they have anything up to eighteen hundred people through the abbey per day. They work very hard!

Jayne and her husband arrived a little while after we got to the house and we sat out on the balcony enjoying drinks and snacks, while enjoying the view as well. From their house you look down over fields and trees to a river, and it was extraordinarily satisfying to sit and watch the birds flying around, the calves in the next door field prancing about and listen to everybody chatting

The rest of the evening passed off very well indeed. Apart from all the rest of her talents, Michelle is a first-class cook, having at one stage run a restaurant in Durban, South Africa. So we were treated to a superb meal and delicious wine. The chat continued into late at night and then Jayne and her husband took us back to our car as it was on their way home, and we set off on our drive back again. A delightful afternoon and evening altogether.

This week has ended on a truly gastronomic note as, on Sunday, we went with our hosts (who own the gite) to visit friends of theirs who live about twenty-five kilometres north of where we are. This lady, too, is a superb cook and we were once again treated to a delicious meal. When we arrived a bit after midday, it was sunny and warm enough to sit outdoors for a while, although we moved indoors to eat. What a good idea that was! We had hardly reached the coffee stage when the heavens opened and rain started pouring down accompanied by lightning and thunder. This really is the weirdest weather.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 9

We trotted off to our appointment with the estate agent on Monday afternoon, taking our hosts with us as back up. They had not seen the house or the village before so we were hoping, sort of, that they would find the radical fault that would allow us to withdraw gracefully. They, however, fell in love with the place immediately and started pointing out all manner of benefits to us holidaying there. (Perhaps they want to get rid of us!) We promised to confer with the family before committing ourselves in any way, but two things were certain – we are totally in love with the house and the village; and it is way out of our budget, unless by a miracle we win the lottery. And it would have to be the French lottery as the jackpot from the South African one would barely cover the price. The end is result is that most of you will be seeing us again when we return home!!

Back home again, and while we mulled over all the pro’s and con’s, but always coming to the same conclusion, the two men got busy doing ‘boy’ things in the workshop. This is a large area also built under the front of the house, behind our gite, and reminds me very much of my father’s workshop in Durban. Our house there was built on quite a steep slope and the front section had been built up to reach normal floor level. The space thus created made an ideal space for a ‘get-out-of-the-wifes-way’ glory hole and Dad spent many happy hours there fixing broken household items or just tinkering with things. This particular workshop is very orderly with everything in its place and mostly clean and swept, so it is a pleasure to work in there. Earlier last week someone knocked the wing mirror off our hosts car, but all the bits were carefully collected so Tuesday was spent trying to put it all together again. It was a beautiful day and quite still, so we took all our lunch bits and pieces and ate out on the terrace. Very French!

On Thursday we persuaded our French-speaking hostess to phone the Prefecture in Auch for us again to ask how much longer it was going to take before we heard anything about our residency permits, as it is now less than a month to our return date. Imagine our shock when she said that it was unlikely to be before the end of May and could even be in June, which is why she had issued us with temporary permits to the end of June. Now what?! Talk about throwing the cat amongst the pigeons………..we were in a complete flap! All sorts of thoughts rushed into my mind – we would have to change our return flights and the hire car booking (easy enough); we would run out of our chronic medicines long before the new return date (something could probably be managed); would we be able to stay on in our present accommodation or have they other bookings (have to find out about that) and so on and so. After Neels had calmed me down and pointed out that it was also possible that we would get our new cards in time, I began to think a bit more rationally but that didn’t last long as I realised that I only have winter clothing with me which is already a bit heavy for some of the days we have had. Oh dear! Always something to worry about!!

Friday and Sunday were both fairly cold and wet but we took ourselves out for a drive on Friday just to give ourselves something else to think about. Strangely, the further north we went, the better the weather became, although it was never warm and sunny. Coming back was the reverse and by the time we arrived back at our gite, it was sheeting down with small pieces of hail mixed in with the raindrops. On the day in between, there was much labour going on in the garden, putting up new supports for the portico over the front door. Drilling holes for anchor bolts into solid stone is hard work and I think both men were glad there were two of them to do it. The work  is coming along well and I am hoping to be able to send a photograph of the finished project complete with wisteria growing over the top and tumbling down over the edge. The workmen will have to get a move on though or the wisteria will beat them to it. Actually, I went out to have a look at it a few minutes ago and I see that the wisteria has already beaten them to it!

We obviously have some sort of attraction for cats as there is a little pure white cat that really lives two doors away, which visits every day. As in the case of our ‘part-time’ cat at home, we suspect that she is lonely when everyone goes off to work and to school. She doesn’t really visit us, but rather our host whom she adores. She is not allowed into the house or the gite but may go into the workshop where she will climb up onto tables until she can reach his shoulder where she will perch quite happily until she is pushed off again. She is little more than a kitten and hasn’t yet outgrown the playful phase, so spends endless hours entertaining us with her mad dashes around the garden. We were less impressed when she brought home a baby rabbit she had caught and killed, which she then proceeded to crunch up in the utility room next to the workshop. Nasty little beastie!

FRANCE 2015 Chapter 8

Good Gracious! Winter has gone and Spring has begun with a vengeance! Temperatures that, last week struggled to reach double figures are now raging along with 15, 19 and even 21 degrees forecast for this week. We won’t know ourselves without heaters and electric blankets and four layers of clothing. What a lovely change. The daffodils which always seem to come up too early, have now been overwhelmed by a myriad of pink, white, mauve, blue and yellow flowers and the fields around us are a real sight. What a difference a little bit of sunshine makes.

Monday was a good sunny start to the week but the wind was still bitterly cold and we stayed home and jig-sawed. (Got to get it finished, you see!), but Tuesday was beautiful with much less wind, so off we went on a drive of discovery. For those of you who like to know where we go to, let me just say that it was a huge circular drive. We first drove in to Villefranche and out the other side, choosing the small yellow road between the two big red main roads. This took us to Toulonjac, then on to Sainte Croix, La Capelle Balaguier and Salvagnac-Cajarc  before we crossed the River Lot and landed in Cajarc. From there we followed the Lot valley all the way to Capdenac  then hauled ‘Jane’ out of the glove compartment and asked her to navigate to Peyrusse le Roc, Lanuejouls, Rieupeyroux and finally home using only the back roads. What fun! And what amazing scenery. Castles and chateaux were everywhere; all surrounded by those lush green fields that I spoke about last week. One chateau that we passed  was, we think, fairly newly built and had two strange little turrets attached to the two front corners of the building, but starting about halfway up the wall. They looked for all the world like a salt and pepper set. Another chateau which had been restored had the tallest ‘donjon’ we have ever seen. A Donjon is a fortified tower which also served as a lookout point, so had to be tall enough to see a long way off. I have climbed the stairs at the donjon in Bassoues which I though was tall enough, but this one probably outdid it by quite a few metres. Although now privately owned, the castle is open to the public every summer.

Driving along the riverside was beautiful. The trees are now starting to get that pale green haze around the ends of the branches and twigs, and at places both the road and the river were lined with trees.  The Lot is a very fast flowing river and with all the rain the country has had, it is roaring along now. It is one of the main rivers of France and eventually joins the Garonne which finally runs in to the sea  near Bordeaux. Further downstream from where we were, it is possible cruise on the Lot, but further upstream there are a lot of natural weirs and rapids which would probably make for quite uncomfortable cruising. It would be fun in a canoe though.

Wednesday was of course, drivers day off but we did go into town in the afternoon and just wandered around looking at everything in bright sunlight. The flowerbeds are all starting to bloom and in a week or so it is going to be really pretty. On Thursday the wind howled again, although it has certainly lost it’s ‘nip’. I did a load of washing and had horizontal washing on the line again. It certainly gets dry quickly like that and doesn’t seem to wrap itself around the line like it does at home.

The next day we thought it was about time to put our threats into action and do some house-hunting! What that really means is that we go and ‘bug’ the estate agents and see if any of them can possibly come up with something that ticks all our boxes. It’s a tricky one as we have champagne taste but beer pockets, but if someone can find a champagne house for a beer price, we may seriously consider it as a holiday house for the family..

One agent came up with a really cute house, stone-built, completely restored and at a bargain price! We were very, very tempted and even made an appointment to go and view it on Monday. By the time we got home, however, sanity had returned and we realised that it was not at all practical. It would mean completely furnishing the place, and putting in some sort of heating so that it would be usable year-round. But that didn’t stop us from going off on Saturday morning to have a sneak preview of the village and a further look at the exterior of the house. I have to admit that we are smitten, but common sense tells us that we must walk away. Perhaps we’ll keep our appointment on Monday and just go and look at the interior – we might find something radically wrong with it! In the mean time we will continue to buy lottery tickets in the hopes that if we’re in it, we may win it!

Our hosts arrived back on Sunday afternoon after a week away and seemed to find everything still as they left it. We spent a very pleasant evening with them exchanging news of what we had all done while they were away.