Our place in France Chapter 60

Our place in France Chapter 60

Wow! What a week! Halfway through I had to make notes to remember what we still had to do and what we had already done! Of course a little elderly forgetfulness doesn’t help either, but all in all it has been quite a busy week.

It actually started off the previous weekend when the tablets I had been put on to, to help with the awful sciatica pain and the general arthritis, seemed to be making me so ill that I would rather have just not woken up one morning. Obviously, with a bunch of new visitors on the horizon, this was not going to work, so Neels rushed off to the chemist shop to get some help. The doctors are unavailable here between Friday evening and Monday afternoon which can be quite inconvenient – especially when you need them – but the chemist was a star. He recognised the difficulty and gave us a box of my original arthritis tablets and within two days, I was as right as rain and all pain was gone. Not a moment too soon either as our first visitor, Carol, arrived on Monday afternoon together with her friend, Ann. Mutual friends picked them up from the station and everyone arrived here at about  3pm for tea, after which the rest left and Carol stayed on here. We then had two blissful days together, chatting  nineteen to the dozen. And on Wednesday evening, another friend, Liz, arrived and the chatter reached another level. On Friday Carol and her friend had to leave again so the four of us here joined up with friend and friend’s hosts for lunch in Villefranche before seeing them safely on to the train again. We heard later that day that all had gone smoothly and that they were safely back in the UK.

There was a quick transfer of bedding as Liz had been using the spare bed in Courtney’s room and could now move into the normal spare room to make way for Courtney who arrived home on Friday evening for her usual weekend at ‘home’.

Meanwhile, on the Tuesday after Carol arrived we had to go to the Prefecture in Rodez to check on the progress of our new Cartes de Sejour. It was a deliciously hot day and I could wear sandals for the first time since summer in South Africa in 2015/16. Hooray. But no cheers for the prefecture. When we applied in April we were asked to supply an income tax form which we did not have. We returned home and went to Villefranche the next day, to the tax office, to ask about it. We were told that we did not need a tax form as we had not been resident in France at the beginning of 2016, which is exactly what we had said while in Rodez. The lady who dealt with us was very kind and gave us a hand-written letter saying just this and double stamped it and signed it. At the first opportunity, we took it over to Rodez and handed it in, but not to the man who had requested it as he was not there. We were promised it would go into our file but as the days passed and we got no notification of receipt, or anything else, we began to get nervous. Our previous permit was due to run out on the 17th May so we drove across again to find out what’s what. What a shock! The fellow on duty opened our file and right on the top was a little yellow Post-it note asking for the tax form! We were horrified as we realised that processing had not even started. However we were given a temporary carte which will carry us over to some time in August. And this time we have been promised our cartes in time.

 Wednesday, Thursday and Friday morning all passed trying to juggle our guests, one of whom had seen most things around here while the other had never been to this area before. I have to admit at this point that both Neels and I are feeling particularly weary. Last year was exhausting as we seemed to be on the go from the moment our furniture arrived and we have not had a let up until now. Add to that my unfortunate fall last September and subsequent sciatica and it all added up to a very stressful time, with poor Neels having to become both carer and cook when I couldn't manage. I am still unable to walk easily and get tired very quickly. This is not the relaxed retirement we had been hoping to achieve. However, we still love the life here; our neighbours are wonderful and the weather is bearable. In South Africa the summers were too hot but here the winters are too cold. One can adapt to all that.

On Saturday it had been advertised that there would be a parade of 'caleches' which mr Google tells me are called caleches in English too. Don't believe it. They are small carriages or carts, which are drawn by one or two horses. It turned out to be a sort of rally where the  contestants travelled around a pre-determined  circuit and had to maintain a certain speed. It was all very professionally organised, with water to wash the horses down afterwards; a vet to check the animals over before and after; and plenty of lush green grass for the horses to munch on. The teams arrived on Saturday evening and very soon the grassy area below the community hall was filled with cars, horse-boxes, a caravan or two and, of course, carts and horses. They all assembled at nine o'clock on Sunday morning and set off at regular intervals under the watchful eye of a starter. Two hours later they were back again, with the previously immaculate carts all covered in mud and the horses panting and sweating. They had obviously had a tough run!

It was something quite out of the ordinary and the whole village turned out to watch them. A great end to the week.