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.
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