THE ELEVEN STEPS ……

Update September 2025: The photos which were part of this post have disappeared! Sometimes when this has happened, I’ve been able to find and reinstate them, but not this time!

The café at the entrance to the campsite, where, until now, I’ve had to go to get the wifi. That hasn’t been much of a problem – it’s not far away and usually quite pleasant, though sometimes difficult to see the computer screen even under one of the parasols. The main irritant has been that very often the battery on the computer has run out before I’ve finished what I’m doing, especially if I’m posting a blog entry. Then there’s not having Radio 4 in the van in the mornings …! So yesterday I bought a ‘Domino’ – a gadget that gives me wifi anywhere – I don’t have to be connected to it, I just have to be near it. It’s a pay-as-you-go arrangement after the first month, so I can use it as needed, not when at home once we have a broadband connection.

Anyway ….

The Eleven Steps

Hmmm …. ‘The Eleven Steps’ … could be a book title. Or maybe 29? ‘The Twenty-nine Steps’ …. Or 39? ‘The Thirty-nine Steps’ That has the ring of a best-seller about it …..

The shortest, though not the only, way from Harry’s home to the multi-purpose, all-in-one, unisex shower / toilet / wash-up and laundry block is via these eleven steps. So for now at least “I’m going up the steps” (possibly follwed by “I may be some time”) is the current euphemism for …. I’m going round the corner, or … to the little room, or …. whatever else …. Use your imagination.

There was an incident on the steps yesterday ….

When Carol tripped and nearly broke her nose back at Alet a few weeks ago, I’m afraid I was not first on the scene. That gold medal went to young, handsome, fit Richard (the bounder; he must have been a bounder – he was there in one bound!), from the tent just below our pitch. However, yesterday when a little girl, five years old maybe, tripped on the steps and cut her knee – a bit; not as much blood as Carol managed! – I was first there! In fact, for a while, I was the only person there, having just come down the steps myself. So what was I to do? Follow any dad or grandad’s instinct and go and pick her up, tell her it was alright and we’d go and find Mummy, or be afraid of recriminations and accusations of child molesting, or whatever? Of course I took the former option. The little girl had stayed on the step where she had fallen, but her loo roll had made off like it was in an Andrex advert, taking in several steps in its bid for freedom! So I had to pick that up as well. Now, I’ve no idea whether the little one understood anything I said – I was an Englishman speaking French and she turned out to be Dutch, but she replied to “Où est ta tente ou ton car?” with an aproppriate gesture and we went there, with the loo roll trailing behind us. By now that mother’s insticnt (which leaves us amazed, though it shouldn’t – sheep do it all the time!,) by which a Mum can recognise her own child’s crying from some distance away, had kicked in, and Mum and sisters were running up from the games area near the café.

There were no objections to what I’d done, just lots of ‘merci’ from all of them, and the sisters seemed slightly amused by my ongoing attempts to wind in the loo roll, a task which they took over …

I have to say, I enjoy being smiled at and greeted by people of all ages, nationalities and both sexes. ‘Don’t talk to strangers’ doesn’t seem to apply. Is ‘stranger danger’ exaggerated in the UK? After all, most abuse takes place within the family, or extended family. Or are children who smile and say ‘bonjour’ to a funny, fat, old foreigner not being adequately warned of the dangers? Discuss, if you want. Or not, if you don’t.

We watched the opening ceremony – all of it, thru to ‘Hey Jude’ on French television, in a thunderstom! During the night the rain turned to hail which tore up our parasol! Eagle-eyed readers may like to play ‘spot the difference’ between this photo and previous ones:

As for the Olympic opening, general opinion here, as far as we can tell, is very impressed with the show, though maybe sections of it were a bit long, and we didn’t appreciate how the Arctic Monkeys fitted in! Anyway – Wiggins is winning once more!

We’ve visted Mirepoix, which is the nearest big town to the house. The centre is very old with a square of arcades and lots of cafés and gift shops.

There’s also a good supermarket.

We’ve jumped in the lake quite frequently, but haven’t ‘pushed the boat out’ on Montbel yet. We were going to on the 31^st, but it was a very fine, hot, day and by the time we got there finding a parking space at the beachy bit was impossible, so we came back und swam in ‘our’ lake instead.

Yesterday evening we had English Fish et Chips at the market just outside the campsite, enhanced by an almost full moon.

We sat next to some French people (local, but from Alsace) who took an interest in us. We were drinking white wine from a 500cl mineral water bottle, at the sight of which the man next to me said (in French), thinking it was water, ‘You shouldn’t drink that, you should drink wine!’ – ‘It is wine’ – ‘What?’ He picked up the bottle and took the top off. He didn’t actually drink any, but he had a good sniff, and realising it was wine he said ‘petit voyou!’ (You little rascal!). So in the space of three weeks I’ve been called a ‘rosbif’ and a ‘petit voyou’! All in good spirit, of course.

Thanks to David S. and Chris T. For help in saving the photos (sample below) and to Meg for assistance with the inevitable paperchase in which French bureaucracy is threatening to overwhelm us!

BUBBLES AND FIREWORKS!

It’s good is buying houses round here! We should do it more often. Most readers know of the local product – a sort of slightly fizzy, colourless drink called Blanquette de Limoux. (Google it or go straight to its website – you might end up buying some; Rachel did!) Well, on Tuesday morning we had one bottle of Blanquette on our winebar. By the evening, we’d bought a house (sort of), drank a bottle of blanquette and we had two bottles of blanquette on the wine bar. (You might need to read that again!) By midday Wednesday we had an extra bottle of local red as well (which we hadn’t bought).

Better explain! We re-visited the house in the morning, with the agent who picked us up here at the campsite to save us going down into Quillan. We measured some rooms and walls (we can’t think in square metres, we need length and breadth in feet!), asked lots of questions and forgot to take photographs. We came away to talk about it over lunch and phoned Nathalie (agent) to make the offer. She negociated for us and got the ride-on mower, the big ‘american’ fridge and the dishwasher into the price we wanted to pay and a deal was agreed.

I went to the little café at the site entrance and said ‘We’ve just bought a house’, then, a bit tentatively, ‘do you happen to have a bottle of Blanquette already chilled?’ ‘Of course’, said Sophie, ‘c’est indispensable – en Aude. Which one do you want?’ Then she refused payment, as the site’s contribution to our celebration. Next, Nathalie’s boss, Marie, came round with the ‘offre d’achat’ for us to sign, and brought with her – a bottle of blanquette. But she wouldn’t have any herself because she was still working and driving. We shared the chilled one with ‘neighbours’ from Normandy and so ended up with two bottles on the shelf, instead of one, having drunk one. Simples! The neighbours were leaving next day and before they went the gave us a bottle of Fitou.

Wednesday 25^th was a big day – or evening – here in Puivert. There had been no local celebration of the Fête Nationale on the 14^th, and this was the substitute. About 200 people gathered here on the campsite, on the pitches with the most open view of the lake, for a communal meal.

Not just residents on site – there probably aren’t that many, but locals and some who had travelled from further away. The meal was a splendid 3-course do – 4 if you count the apéritif with nibbles and pâtés and drinks as alcohlic as you wanted to make them. Then a starter of duck liver pâté:

Followed by a daube de boeuf, tarte aux fruits and coffee. During the meal, there seemeed to be an endless supply of red and rosé wine, which no doubt contributed to the general conviviality.

The sun had gone down, with the last rays shining onto the castle, not behind it:

So now it was fireworks time. Well, what a display! All reflected in the lake, of course. Here are a few pictures, but I’ll put an album on Sky Drive and the best way to see them would be as a cross-fading slide show, if you can do that, with music, of course, as we saw them in the first place.

We just can’t imagine anything like this event in England. Jeannine, Sophie’s no 1 helper, had taken trouble to do a seating plan and place us (the only English) where she thought there would be a good atmosphere. She got that right, too, people were very friendly – including the man who will be our refuse collector! He teased us with some local dialect, but others were quick to translate.

But the evening didn’t end with the fireworks! There’s an evening market just outside the site every Wednesday, and this week that was ‘enhanced’ by the disco which continued till sometime after 12, but no problem to us.

When I thanked Sophie and Jeannine for the evening (or for their work) next morning, they both took the line that we were to be thanked for being there (!) and Jeannine was very anxious to know that we had been happy with the placing at table.

We’re starting to unwind and relax now, and consider ourselves ‘on holiday’. We’ve had a swim in the lake the last three days – just as well it’s there, because temperatures have soared. Even at 7 pm yesterday evening (Thursday) when we went shopping it was still 33° in the town (Lavelanet).

Unfortunately, the lawyer whom everyone (except the original agent) has recommended to us is on holiday till August 6^th, but we’re told there’s still a reasonable hope that we may take possession of the house at Sonnac by mid September. Here’s another little picture: (anyone know how to make them bigger?)

BUBBLES AND FIREWORKS!

Followed by a daube de boeuf, tarte aux fruits and coffee. During the meal, there seemeed to be an endless supply of red and rosé wine, which no doubt contributed to the general conviviality.

The sun had gone down, with the last rays shining onto the castle, not behind it:

A WET DAY / A DRY DAY (OR TWO)

‘Il ne pleut jamais ici’. (It never rains here) That’s what they told me when I first arrived in the South of France in 1963. Next morning, I stuck my little head out of my little tent and found – drizzle! ‘Quand même’, they said, ‘on n’a jamais froid’. (Well, you’re never cold). Two days later – Mistral!

And so it’s carried on, whenever I turn up down here, the weather becomes ‘exceptional’; so those ‘hot dry summers’ we learned about in Geography lessons will have to be seen as a thing of the past. True to form – the form of my disruptive influence, that is – Friday (20^th July) started grey, got greyer and ended up wet. And people were complaining of being cold! Lovely!

We hear the UK is at last heading for a heatwave even as Winning Wiggins heads for the Champs Elysées – enjoy!

After a day ‘at home’ on Friday, we went out yesterday (Sat.) to explore the area round the newly-discovered house. As well as the covered pool (very small!) and the soalar panels, the big attraction is the nearby Lac Montbel. –

Laissez-moi, laissez-moi! Je n’ai rien dit la dernière fois ! You didn’t let me say anything last time ! Yes, I took THEM out through the little town of Chalabre – c’est un peu moche, quand même – a bit sad looking – then past the house and on to the lake. It was a bit hard to find at first, apparently it’s not reckoned to be a ‘tourist’ lake, but then I found a picnic spot where there was an école de voile and SHE got excited about learning to sail.

It was a bit like Ullswater, really, and HE had a little fit of homesickness, but he got over it. A little further on there was an area with a made beach with supervised swimming,

and I think having all that close to the house may have settled which one THEY go for, but they’re still dithering for all I know ….

You’re not wrong!

We went on round the lake and found another spot with a little bar-restau and HE had a drink while SHE had an ice-cream.

Back at Chalabre we parked up and THEY went into the tourist office where a nice young man gave them lots of leaflets and then THEY found a little shop where another nice young man served them some fruit and veg, not to mention fresh milk, so they came away with a better impression of the town than just driving through.

When we got back to Harry some noisy people were playing boules (pétanque) in the roadway just beside our pitch, but I just mowed them down –

No, you didn’t, you little fibber! You just stalled while parking up.

I prefer my version.

Hmmm … The evening was spent at one of this site’s regular ‘specials’ : a moules-frites do. Apperitifs followed by all the mussels and chips you could eat, with a seemingly endless supply of red or rosé wine, then dessert and coffee. We were lucky enough to link up with immediate neighbours (French) and a Dutch couple, so conversation flowed all evening and it was well enjoyable – Carol had to choose an alternative main course because of her allergy to mussels, but that was OK. Unfortunately, the noisy people, camped opposite us, across the through road, carried on being noisy well into the small hours, but it didn’t bother us too much. Carol was more bothered by noises within our van than those from outside. ….

This morning the pétanque started again almost before breakfast, but somebody said something, we think, and they moved to a more suitable spot. Now they’ve packed up and gone, having stayed only one night. I tidied the ‘garage’ while Carol prepared a lovely Sunday lunch, then we walked round the lake – the little one just here, not Montbel.

Soon we’ll have a boyle degg. Some traditions aren’t going to change!

A WET DAY / A DRY DAY (OR TWO)

We hear the UK is at last heading for a heatwave even as Winning Wiggins heads for the Champs Elysées – enjoy!

It was a bit like Ullswater, really, and HE had a little fit of homesickness, but he got over it. A little further on there was an area with a made beach with supervised swimming,

and I think having all that close to the house may have settled which one THEY go for, but they’re still dithering for all I know ….

You’re not wrong!

We went on round the lake and found another spot with a little bar-restau and HE had a drink while SHE had an ice-cream.

When we got back to Harry some noisy people were playing boules (pétanque) in the roadway just beside our pitch, but I just mowed them down –

No, you didn’t, you little fibber! You just stalled while parking up.

I prefer my version.

Soon we’ll have a boyle degg. Some traditions aren’t going to change!

THE EIGHT-DAY BATTLE COMES TO AN END, MAYBE THE HOUSE HUNT WILL SOON, TOO

“And tomorrow it’s back to the house hunt, and can’t wait to find out if that money transfer has gone through, or is going to” ….

Don’t be silly! Of course it hadn’t. That was Sunday evening, 15^th July. The battle went on for another two and a half days – eight days in total! On Monday morning I began to log the calls I made and the names of the people I spoke to …

(The next three paragraphs have been removed because, Carol says, they were just too boring!)

Finally, while having lunch in that lovely lay-by with the English-run snack truck just before the narrow bit with the overhangs and the rock arch, we heard that the transfer had been made! Carol almost burst into tears! Not only had the transfer been made, but they were waiving the £25 fee AND compensating us to the tune of £100 …. It wasn’t worth it, and I don’t know yet how much of the £125 was actually spent on phone calls, but it doesn’t make up for the asthma attack, the two missed beakfasts and the 8 days of stress.

So how about the house-hunt? It’s nearly over! We have a short list of three. We’re not going to live in Quillan because it has higher rates and taxes and we don’t want the ‘extras’ (night-life, festivals, concerts ..) that they are supposed to cover. The first house we saw with a pool already in place, whose photo I’ve posted twice, is still a runner, along with this one:

This is in Sournia, the same little town where we found the house we wanted two years ago! And by pure coincidence the owner (English) was sitting next to us in the plane as we flew to Carcassonne back in May for ‘A Place In The Sun’! We visited yesterday. We still like the location and the house is lovely, though a bit small. But access for Harry will be very difficult. Then today we saw this:

It’s a bit further away from the Med, but close to a lake. It has solar panels which produce income and the pool is covered (removable) which makes it safer (for children) and, in effect, heated, so useable for longer in the year. No work needs doing immediately, though a second bathroom and a ‘Harry-shelter’ will need adding soon, but the price allows for that. Very attractive, though lacking the character of some that we’ve seen. We intend to stop looking now and to make an offer for one of the three early next week.

But we shall be here for the rest of summer, no doubt. Harry’s new home has space for at least one tent within the pitch, so that wouldn’t cost anything:

There would be a cost per person, of course, but if anyone wants to visit while we’re here, we can easily meet at Carcassonne (Ryanair) or Perpignan (a bit more choice). There’s the little lake with pedalos and supervised swimming just beside us, a castle just over the road and croaking frogs (amphibeans, not Gauls) to keep you awake, or send you to sleep …. And what’s more, the sun shines most days!

BATTLES WITH THE BANK AND THE TOUR DE FRANCE

A week with no posting! We’ve been quite busy, but with nothing really to report. We’ve continued to look at houses, and we’ve re-visited three on the short list. And of course, we’ve moved ‘home’. But the dominant memory of the last three days will be the ongoing battle with Santander to get OUR money out of THEIR bank! An asthma attack and 2 days without without breakfast are just a bit of it …..

Anyway, I referred somewhere (in an e-mail, I think, not in the journal) to Harry’s ‘not very photogenic corner’ of the pitch at Alet. Well, on packing-up day, I had a go:

On Thursday we moved to Puivert – you can Google that and get lots of pictures of the Castle and some of the lake – the campsite is beside the lake and we have much more space, but we are surrounded by families and noisy children; at Alet we felt quite young! So, you pays your money and takes your choice – less money here, anyway.

Before coming up the hill on Thursday we took Harry to the house with the pool, down by the riverside, having developed a concern that the significant uphill into the drive could cause grounding with his overhang and the towbar. We were reassured to find that with care, he can get in (and out!) without any remodelling of the driveway. Not that we’ve decided on that house, yet. Two others in Quillan have scored more highly on our ‘refined’ scorechart.

But before all that, we heard from various sources that Wednesday might be a good time to trade Sterling for Euros. Not my usual scene, but I managed to play a couple of currency brokers against each other and got a much better rate than we had anticipated a month ago. (1.615). In one or two weeks’ time we’ll either be saying “didn’t we do well!” or kicking ourselves for trading too soon. But then began the nightmare of trying to get the money OUT of Satan-DER and IN to the account at the broker’s. I don’t want to go on too long with a blow-by-blow, and I don’t know what it’s cost in phone calls yet, but the sticking point seems to be that although I checked before completing the sale of GV that all I had to do when the time came was make a call to arrange a CHAPS payment, it couldn’t be done because my MOBILE phone wasn’t registered with the bank! So I registered it – No! It has to be in the system for 60 days! So what do we do? Send a fax with lots of proof of ID. Easy on a campsite in the Pyrenees, eh? Still, a nice (but incompetent, as it turned out) lady at the Mairie in Alet agreed to do it for us, however, for whatever reason, it failed, but we didn’t know that because the lady said it had been successful. Maybe we’d been given the wrong number – one of Satan-DER’s ‘advisers said it was wrong and gave us a different one. Eventually the fax was sent by our least favourite estate agent in Quillan. However, we still don’t know whether the transfer has been made, or will be made on Monday morning. We do know we missed the deadline to fulfil our contract with the currency broker, and they are entitled to charge for that, but they’ve said they won’t. So a recommendation for Halo Financial, and, not for the first time, a big BOO-HISS for Satan-DER.

Meanwhile, a feel-good story. Regular followers might recall (or re-visit ‘Postcards from Harry,’ entry 11) a visit to Spain last October to buy a replacement camera. The faulty one was taken to the photo-shop in Penrith, who sent it to Germany to be looked at, but on the understanding that I wouldn’t be paying for a repair as I had done so once already. Germany kept it from November to May! As leaving day drew nearer and nearer I began to make regular visits to the shop saying ‘any chance of getting my camera back?’ We left without it. They had contact details, but it was still a bit of a surprise to get a call from Richard, of the Photo Shop in Penrith, soon after we’d left UK saying ‘I’ve got your camera, where are you?’ South of France, no problem – he was about do come down here to track sections of the Tour de France. He’d be in Carcassonne around July 12^th and would contact us then. And he did. And although he was running very late, having had a car impounded and taken time to get it back, he drove from Carcassonne to Limoux to to hand it over with no charge. (We gave him a bottle of local bubbles.) HE understands PR, just like Halo Financial. Satan-DER should take lessons.

So we come to July 14^th and the Tour de France on the 15^th. The big Fête Nationale passed us by unnoticed – we could have gone to fireworks in Quillan or Carcassonne – many did – but Puivert is having its own ‘do’ later and we were happier setting up home and having a nice meal at the little café on site. But to ignore the Tour de France – especially with a Brit winning – would have been a bit remiss ( it passed within walking distance). So we did our best with some Union Jack napkins:

And for the first time ever, someone actually did shout ‘Rosbif’ at me across the street (that’s the supposed equivalent of ‘Frog’, but I’ve never heard it before), and we went out along beside the lake

And through the village

to the main road. We found some young English folk wrapped in St. George flags, so we felt quite safe, someone took our photo (press or not, we don’t know), a group of locals (probably) were doing Mexican waves everytime a vehicle went by:

Then the big event! Blink and you’ll miss it! I shouted ‘Go, Wiggo!’, but I’ve no idea at whom, and my attempt to video the main group of riders failed miserably as I must have pressed a wrong button! Or not pressed the right one. Carol did rather better and caught this shot:

Now it’s raining (but that’s impossible – it doesn’t rain here from May to October. Ha!) And tomorrow it’s back to the house hunt, and can’t wait to find out if that money transfer has gone through, or is going to ….

ANOTHER SPECTACULAR DRIVE – AND A HOUSE RE-VISITED.

“But in going down an alley

To a castle in the valley

They completely lost their way,

And wandered all the day.”

Well, it wasn’t quite like that – the castle wasn’t in the valley, it was high on the ridge, as Cathar Castles are.(Google Cathar Castles , go to images 2nd row, 3rd & 5th photos – we drove up there BY ACCIDENT!)

And we didn’t wander ALL day – just for an hour.

And it was HOT.

Tell me about it.

No need – you did it.

But we jump ahead. If this journal were in sequence, you’d see that we were looking forward (?) to a drive of 100 miles each way to see a house further south from here. Nearer Spain, I said. Nearer Spain? – we could have walked it! Honest – 10 minutes through the woods. The approach was amazing. 15 minutes of narrow zig-zags up a wooded valley to absolutely nowhere, yet there was a hamlet of 10 or so houses with more dotted around the hillsides – and a bus stop!

The house was interesting, with a pool at the side, but bedrooms were very small and the situation a bit more remote than we really want, so called it a nice day out and stopped at McDs near the motorway for supper – and to send the last blog entry which had failed from here because of thunderstorms all around. Then we had a dash for ‘home’ to arrive before they closed the gate of the campsite at 10pm. We were 5 minutes late – so were they! So Sally got to park up behind Harry as usual, not in the village, and we didn’t have to walk the last bit.

It was dark when you got back – I thought you weren’t coming.

Hello – are you awake? People have been asking how you are.

Kind of them – s’pose I’m alright.

Course he is – I’m looking after him.

What? Like before? Wunderschőn!

Thank you! So, Friday 7th July, we arranged with one of the agents to re-visit one of the houses on the short list so as to remember and re-assess according to our new scoring system. We love the little pool (it is little!),

but we do find this living space very disappointing, compared with some we’ve seen.

However, we investigated the loft space above the garage – and there’s lots of it! – and here’s the first photo of Carol since last Sunday’s fall; it’s out of focus, so I’m allowed to publish it!

After doing some measuring we went and had a picnic by the river (as we do!).

Which brings us to Saturday, and the house-hunt that took a bit longer than expected! The problem is which photos to put up and which to leave out. Here are a few of the drive out, including the Pic de Bugarach:

We pinicked, as it got hotter, in a delightful spot:

That was nice – très agréable!

Then tried to drive on to the house we were to visit just 20 minutes away. TomTom got us to within a few hundred metres, but a misunderstanding with the elderly lady on the phone sent us out of the village, round the cliff with the castle and up the other side to the castle gate! Then we tried a rough track on the way down, till we realised it was going nowhere but a barn (unconverted). An hour after we arrived in the village in the first place, losing phone charge as well as signal, not to mention the will to persevere, and very hot – I mean dripping! – a lovely old man, handicapped but driving, came out and met us at the crossroads and led us to the house where before the viewing they gave us cold drinks and a sit round the table.

The house was as lovely as the people, but only one bathroom and loo and a garden covering 3,000sq.m., most of it going up the hill towards that castle! Build a terrace and put a pool in! Yes, but not on our budget! Oh, and there were three peacocks as well.

Then the drive back by a different route. If we thought the ‘narrow bit with the rock arch’ (The Défilé de la Pierre de Lys) was spectacular, we hadn’t seen nutn! We did take some photos, but the best would be to google Gorges de Galamus and go to images. This is a must-do drive or walk for those who visit. Traffic is controlled one way at a time, but from the car – and stopping is not allowed – you just don’t see the water! Here are some of our pictures:

Did I just come down there?

Yes, little car, you did.

Bet Harry can’t do that!

No, he can’t; he’s not allowed – so don’t go showing off about it.

Moi?

Hmmm …

On the way ‘home’ we stopped for a meal at a ‘real’ reataurant – not outstanding, but OK, and got back without rushing before the 10pm closure.

Today we visited the market in Espéraza – a big one – and had pork chops – one each! – for lunch, prepared with mash and two vegs in Harry –

One has one’s uses.

Of course you do. Then we did some ‘housekeeping’ (tidying kitchen cupboards) since we couldn’t get a TV signal to watch the tennis.

Goodnight, all!

Bonsoir!

Nice to have tidy cupboards ….

SALLY GETS TO GO OUT.

Enfin! J’ai fait deux excursions superbes! Lundi– In English, Sally – not all our readers speak French! – Oops, pardon, sorry! On Monday I took THEM to St. Paul de Fenouillet.

The scenery was wonderful, and THEY had a pique-nique, well, a snack from a burger truck (English!), in this lay-by by the river overlooked by this big mountain:

Then we went through the narrow bit where there are overhangs and a rock archway ….

OK, at St. Paul they left me to cook on the square (That’s not fair we left you in the shade under a tree!) Yes, but the sun moved while you were seeing one of those agent people; anyway it was a waste of time because the house was rubbish. (It wasn’t actually, it was just empty and neglected and there was no way we could get Harry up there even if we’d wanted to take it on!)

That’s the view!

Anyway, today –

Just a minute! We’ll have a word about yesterday first (Tuesday) –

OK OK

We did two viewings yesterday morning, both wooden ‘chalet’ type houses, and very high on the short list. So we knocked 3 off and put two on. Details can wait, but while we were out with one agent, Sally was spotted by another (the one we’d rather not see) so he was on the phone saying “I see you’re in Quillan, can you pop in for a chat?” No!

We’d kept the afternoon free because we thought we might have to pack up and move off our present site, but in the end we found we were able to stay till the 13th at the latest; trouble is, it’s high season and getting expensive, but another good thing about yesterday’s viewings was that one of them was in a village up above Quillan where there’s a campsite by a lake which turns out to be less costly than here, so we’ll probably move up there soon. So today, Wednesday, we didn’t have any appointments, so we went for a scenic drive instead –

Let me! Let me! We began by going up the hill out of Quillan, and THEY had a real pique-nique at the top here:

And that’s Madame, who still won’t look at the camera because her face is not so pretty since Sunday, you know ….. And there’s a bit of MOI there, too.

Then we went up some very steep, twisty, winding roads, right up into the big mountains, and came to Ax-Les-Thermes, where I had a rest and THEY had an ice-cream.

On the way down, by a diferent road, we stopped at Puivert, the place with the little lake and THEY went and looked at the campsite and made enquiries.

Back at valley (Aude) level we found, eventually, the first house we viewed with a pool – the one whose photo we put up – and measured the distance to the nearest shop. Less than a mile! Ideal! It moved up a notch or two. Back with Harry as daylight faded we enjoyed the dish we’d bought at a supermarket: ‘Boules de Picoulat’ with some pasta shells, and tomorrow we travel some distance to see another house (with pool) that we’ve found on the net. Nearer Spain and nearer the Med. We’ll see. Sleep well, Sally – you’ve got a couple of hundred miles to do tomorrow!

Oo là , là! On exagère, quoi!

NEW MONTH – DISAPPOINTING START.

That’s a bouffadou. I bought that one over in the Pays Basque last year, and it’s for reviving a dying fire or barbecue – by blowing through it. As regular readers already knew.

Yes, July hasn’t started well here! After blazing heat a week ago, there were two dull days at the end of June, then this morning a huge drop in temperature (about 18°) and rain to go with it. Then Carol had to leave the van (I was still dozing) and she tripped over one of the guy ropes of the awning. Flat on her nose and quite bloody … a neighbour who came round for Lapin Au Vin last night was there before I was and helped pick her up. Happily he’s a first-aider, but we wondered whether treatment was needed. When we contacted the (English) owner of the site she said we could go to the hospital in Carcassonne, but the wound didn’t look like it needed stitching and there was no evidence of concussion, so we decided to administer pain killers and take it easy – no appointments today, anyway. I’m sorry, but she wont let me take her picture! …. Spoilsport!

Then we found half of Sunday dinner has gone missing! After yesterday’s shopping we couldn’t get everything into the fridge, so some stuff stayed in the insulated bag in the awning. Including 2 chops. Today only one chop can be found! Did we bring 2 home? Did we leave the bag unfastened, so the cats could get at the content? This is reminiscent of a similar incident a few years ago at St. Valery, where a burgling cat was definitely the culprit. But there’s no evidence, like packaging, lying around and the person who looks after the cats says if they take anything they always bring it ‘home’, and she hasn’t seen it! C’est un mystère! And it looks like ‘one chop between two’ this evening. (Can anyone place the quote?)

Thanks for a comment on the house-hunting. Anyone may chip in and we’ll take no notice if we don’t want to. If you really want to see stuff, this is the short list:

http://www.abessan.fr/fr/liste.htm?ope=1&ville1=&habmin=&termin=&prixmin=&prixmax=&ref=1100318553

We call this one “The Oaks” – there are many oak trees all round – reduce some and remove others and we have a supply of wood for years!

http://www.hdcimmo.com/300000euro/2852/2852FR.htm

There’s lovely! Owned by a Welsh couple. The living room is less pink now, but it’s still a disappointing space.

http://www2.housescape.org.uk/cgi-bin/full.pl?&aud1&&1867&&

Harryport! We’d found this one on the web before we came with APITS, and wanted to see it. The APITS team said we wouldn’t want it, but we’re not sure.

http://www2.housescape.org.uk/cgi-bin/full.pl?&aud1&&1907&&

Massive! Built for a former Mayor of Quillan and way above budget, but the agent says he wouldn’t have shown it to us if he didn’t think the owner would come down to our price. It’s currently a holiday home!

http://www.mmimmobilier.com/detail-bien.php?ref=131;

Exterior and living space superb! Kitchen corner very cramped and bedrooms small. Unlikely that vendors would reduce by enough, but might be worth an ask!

More viewings on Tuesday. On Wednesday we plan to change campsite. This has been fine, but pitch is small (no room to walk wide of the tent – hence tripping hazzard, it wasn’t the first time, just the most serious). Also, we’d quite like a pool on site and maybe a bar/restaurant as well. We hope to find ‘the’ house within a week now. We’ll see …

HOUSE-HUNTING GETS SERIOUS. HARRY HAS A REST. SALLY FEELS CHEATED.

Yes! All they do is drive me into town with bullying Fr*gs tailgating me all the way, then when it gets exciting, they leave me for hours on end and push off in someone else’s car!

Sorry, Little Car, but that’s how it’s done here; estate agents don’t send you out to meet people, or to do your own viewing with the keys – they take you round in their own car. Anyway, aren’t you a fr*glet yourself?

Cela ne touche pas à l’affair!

Well, anyway (she’s sulking now). We’ve seen nearly 20 houses, but haven’t decided yet! Spoilt for choice … we come away from a viewing saying ‘look no further’ then we see another one and think ‘hmmm ….’

Some have swimming pools like this:

Some have views from terraces like this:

Some have living spaces like this:

And between appointments we picnic in places like this:

This is Daddy thinking ‘Hmmm …’:

Two footnotes: (Feetnotes?)

Hanging beside the hearth in one of the house there was a bouffadou. The (English) estate agent didn’t know what it was. We did. If you were with us last October, you might remember. I’ll remind you next time, unless you want to show off and be the first to put the reminder up as a comment.

Ever since we arrived here, we’ve been searching in vain for the french mobile phone. It’s caused us to do quite a bit of tidying and finding of other stuff that we weren’t looking for. I was SURE I had put it somewhere ‘out of the way’ but where it was certain to be with us, and that it had NOT been packed up by the removal men and put into store. Nevertheless we finally bought another, saying that when the first turned up the second would be Carol’s. The number is: (from UK) +33 6 34 22 12 50 ….

During one of the viewings (to a superb chalet style house that we would have loved, but access was impossible for Harry) –

Blame me, why not – everything’s my fault these days…

….the agent was closing up the shutters and disturbed a wasp’s nest. She got 2 or 3 stings on her ankle, which she treated with vinegar she found in the kitchen. As we drove away I was rumaging around in the shoulder bag I carry which has migraine & asthma treatments in among other things to see if there was any waspeze or anthisan. There wasn’t, but in the dark recesses at the bottom of one of the sections was …. the French mobile! I said I had it in a sensible (?) place – and I’m sure I’d looked thru that bag several times! Mobile phones have got a lot smaller over the years, haven’t they?

HARRY HEADS SOUTH (4) – AND MAKES IT TO LANGUEDOC!

Last time we were here (in France) the colours were autumnal, now they’re a summery green ….. we began by driving past fields of potatoes, some in flower, and golden cornfields.

As we progressed southwards, sunflowers were dominant, though not yet in flower, and then, of course, the vines!

On Friday, the driving got noticeably easier, partly because we had no more difficult towns to negociate, once clear of Chateauroux, and partly because of the long stretch of toll-free motorway bringing us down past Limoges to Brive La Gaillarde and Cressensac, where we had spent the night in the hotel in 2009, when we had no van. We had lunch in this Lay-by:

which has to be one of the best on the network, just south of Limoges. We spent the night there in 2010 and made a note of it. Parking for caravans / motorhomes is on a drive in – drive out pattern,

and each lane has its own picnic table adjacent. 2 years ago it was too wet and cold to take advantage of, but this year we made he most of it.

I remember that! We came across from Mervent where it had rained for almost a whole week!, and we went on to Salagou, though the Milau Viaduct was covered in fog.

That’s right! Only this year the weather just kept getting hotter and hotter. And HE said the man in the next camp site came out with the French equivalent of ‘sgettinotter’ – “ça monte!”

At that campsite, in Montpezat de Quercy (I wish I could put maps on this blog so that anyone who wanted to could follow us without additional searching) we dined on a meal of chicken chasseur, courtesy of Intermarché – no, that was the evening before, that evening was a remarkably good paella – remarkable because it came from a tin!

And so we arrived, on Sunday, in Languedoc, in Aude, to be precise, and by pure coicidence really, pitched up on a little campsite right next to the hotel where we filmed the final shots for ‘A Place in the Sun’! This is in Alet Les Bains, between Quillan and Limoux. We bought a bottle of the bubbly stuff (Blanquette de Limoux – sorry for those who weren’t at Rachel’s wedding, so didn’t get any!) – on sale at the site – to celebrate our arrival and had an SKT special supper of lamb in red wine. Not sure how long we’ll stay, but it will do for now.

Today we’ve lived la vie de l’Audois with all meals taken outdoors, from a simple breakfast on site, a picnic lunch by the river to a restaurant meal in Limoux at the same restaurant where we had lunch with the TV team on the second day of filmimg- this one:

Carol had a 3 course meal including fish in Chardonnay sauce, and I had frog’s legs! That was after 2 house viewings and a long chat with an agent in Limoux who will show us four more tomorrow! One of today’s two is a ‘possible’. We think we’ll stay here at least a week.

Good night! (It’s 1am)

HARRY HEADS SOUTH (3)

Well, a stay under the ‘Pasporta Servo’ scheme is usually for two or three days while the visitors see the local attractions and then move on. We certainly didn’t anticipate three weeks!

But Trevor, our host, seen here on the beach at Calshot (? no map handy!) during a day off, when he took us out, seemed quite happy to have company and some meals prepared when he came home from his work at the Cat & Fiddle (who knew that pub name has to do with Catherine le Fidele? Be honest!) And in case anyone is wondering, we did pay our share of everyday expenses, so we weren’t complete vagrant, homeless scroungers!

Other days included a walk over Hengistbury Head with Martyn and Jasmine, after the short ferry crossing from Mudeford:

..and thanks for the eveing meal which followed.

A look round Christchurch Priory and Quay –

this is Carol ‘putting a brave face on it’ (maybe the ice cream helped) and various other drives out and shopping trips, not to forget the trip to Potters Bar and Cockfosters for Carol’s Uncle Ted’s funeral – thanks again to the family for the hospitality, and to Jan and Chrys for the overnight and evening meal.

Talking of meals, we took Trevor out one evening to a seafood restaurant,

and entertained an Esperanto-learning friend of his to coq au vin on what happened to be our tin wedding anniversary (yes – tin, not a mis-type!).

Then on Tuesday 19th June came the news: Harry was ready for the road! We brought him round to Trevor’s and there was a sort of re-union:

Hello, Big Van!

Hello, Little Car!

How are you?

Mmm ….. much better – it’s good to be out in the open again. Where have you been?

Sally at Trevor's

I’ve been here – waiting for you!

Das ist aber nett.

What?

C’est chouette, ça. That’s sweet.

Well, didn’t have much choice, really. Someone had to look after THEM – and I took them up to London to a funeral. An Uncle of Carol’s. Everyone was asking about you, THEY said.

Ach, so ….

Are we going to France, then? Can you pull me?

Yes, we are – but ‘Doctor’ says got to be careful.

Tell you what, SHE can drive me to Dover, then we’ll hook up before the ferry and after that – we’ll see.

In Ordnung.

What’s your back end like …..

M**de alors! It’s still the same!

Baint my fault! I wasn’t in for that ….

Sally – don’t tease him about that. I did it – I’ll sort it in France.

Bon, d’accord. Hey, Harry!

Ja?

Nice to see you.

You too, Etulino. Let’s go find THEM a place in the sun ….

And he’s not wrong – we’ve added up the figures and withdrawn from the purchase of the place the TV people found us…… So we booked a ferry crossing for Wednesday night and drove in convoy to Maidstone services where we coupled H & S up and drove on to Dover. We had a meal on board, and I HOPE it was the worst meal we shall have for a long time! Lukewarm at best, fairly tastless and al dente is one thing, but raw carrot is another – should be a starter. Add to that NO WINE at the restaurant; would have had to get it from the bar, by which time the meal would have been completely cold. Very low score for DFDS.

Arriving at Dunkirk at 1am french time, we drove 44 kms till we came to the first aire de service on the motorway and parked up for what was left of the night. Slept quite well, in fact, and since it was an service area, not just a lay-by, we had croissants and pain au chocolat for breakfast. Then did a very useful 380 kms, including getting through Paris in the late afternoon, to arrive at Vauvert Campsite near Etampes at 9.30pm. We had to park outside the barrier, but there was electric hook-up available and we able to use the facilities. It was a nice place, really, but we couldn’t linger. Carol was up at 7.15 and we actually got on the road at 11! (What takes 3 ¾ hours? Don’t ask!)

Shopping was a priority , and we needed fuel during the day; the ‘grey’ water hadn’t been released since before the breakdown and we were becoming aware of it, so we felt a need to find a site with all facilities in good time and have a nice meal – out of doors as it turned out (‘sgettinotter’!). So after only 220 kms we found a site in Chateauroux, just off the free motorway towards Limoges, and here we are. Carcassonne will take another two days, but Harry seems to be running well, towing not a problem, and the weather is promising. There’s sunshine in the south (as we’ve found before) and we’ll find a place in it!

We will!!

Let’s go!

Well, wait till morning ….. it’s 00.30!

HARRY HEADS SOUTH (2)

After the removal men had gone (Sat. 19th) we spent most of the next 24 hours cleaning, removing screws and picture hooks and making good as best we could. Also a final visit to the tip at Flusco. We slept in Harry in the garden – incidentally a riot of blue, mauve and yellow (forget-me-nots, honesty and poppies).

Sunday May 20th; we took a key to Garth View’s new owner’s place in Appleby and carried on packing up what the removal men had left behind – food in packets, mainly. We left paperwork in the kitchen together with all remaining keys. A last look in every room – next time the door closed would be the last time.

Harry and Sally were hooked up in the road outside:

I see your back end’s no prettier than it was in October!

You’ve been in the wars yourself.

Yes, but I got fixed up.

That’s cos anyone can fix you up. I need special treatment!

Tu exagères, voyons!

While they got re-acquainted we had a last look at Garth View:

And the Garth:

Checklist? (We’ve found it best to keep a pre-driving checklist handy and go through it every time; it’s on a yellow clipboard on Harry’s dashboard tray …..)

Where’s the clipboard? ……….. Horrid realisation: the clipboard, with the full inventory of the removal on it, as well as other items, was in the kitchen – taken in for the final meter reading and somehow not brought straight back out. Retrieval impossible. (This was the first setback!) No choice but to phone the new owner and ask for her key back. No way – she was in Carlisle, not Appleby. But she offered to go in next day and post it to us in Potters Bar, which she did, and for which we are very grateful.

So we got on the road, and made for Whitefield where we shared a lovely meal (Thanks, Sean) with all the Offspring and In-Laws before following Chris and Michelle to Golcar where we spent the night on the Chapel car park, after seeing photos and videos of the soon-to-be new Grandchildren. (Chris and Michelle will finally bring their adoptive son and daughter home on Friday 25th – we wish them well in this exciting and challenging venture.)

Back on the road next morning, after confirmation that the completion of the sale of GV had taken place. We travelled on to Welwyn and set up for the week on the Caravan Club site. We really wanted to weigh the outfit and sought out 2 weighbridges: one was closed, and the other was in a scrapyard with limited manoeuvring space. I didn’t risk it. At the pitch, the catch on Harry’s fridge door broke – again! Need to contact a Dometic agent. Things aren’t going all that well!

But we spent a lovely week visiting friends and relatives and scrounging food and drink off people, as you might expect of a pair of homeless old vagrants, and a very nice man came and not only fixed the fridge door, but showed me how to do it myself next time – and there has been a next time!

On Friday (25th) we transferred to Chertsey – calling at a public weighbridge in Hilingdon on the way, which Philip had found out about for us, thanks, arriving much later than planned, partly due to delays on the M25, and we had what we thought would be our last evening meal in England – for now – with Philip, Christine, Carol Jnr, and Judi, at a pub local to P & C’s new flat. Thanks again.

Saturday 26th, heading for Dover with plenty of time to spare. Harry – what happened?

I don’t know. I just felt ill. (It seemed like a stroke of some sort, but ….)* HE wanted me to overtake this lorry, which we were doing, then the lorry seemed to speed up. But it wasn’t the lorry speeding up it was me slowing down. Then the was the horrible black exhaust choking me –

AND ME! –

And everyone else, whenever HE changed gear or tried to accelerate. We just had to stop….

We did! And after two rides on low loaders, with us following –

IN ME! –

Yes, we ended up parked here for the weekend:

Waiting for this place to open:

When it did, they said, “Sorry, it’s bad news; it needs a new engine. Least price we can do it for is £6,000, and Wednesday at the earliest”.

To cut it short, Carol phoned her brother, Martyn, who arranged for his man in Mudeford to have a look at Harry. Another low loader, late last night, at our own expense this time, and we slept outside the repair shop, but within a secure compound. Luckily, an Esperanto speaker lives in Mudeford and he has taken us in! Esperanto speakers do that for other Esperanto speakers, even when they’re not homeless. Google Pasporta Servo to find out more.

So here we all are then. Here for the Jubilee. But not jubilant. The house purchase in France is on hold, unless the vendors withdraw because we’ve missed the meeting and they have another offer. (We think that’s unlikely).

*That’s for ‘Ghost Train’ afficionados – don’t worry about it if you’re not!

GARTH VIEW: THE LAST DAYS.

May 6th, the Sunday between our two weeks of filming: the ‘Bolton Wanderers’, a quiz team made up of three couples all into motorhoming, took part for the last time at the Eden Vale Inn. We didn’t do as well as usual, but never mind!

Bolton Wanderers

Various family members made final visits; not all got photographed, but Philip’s departure from Appleby Station on the Settle-Carlisle line was recorded:

with Keith, Appleby station

Appleby Station

Welcome? Shouldn’t that be ‘Go well?’

For some there were moments of relaxation:

Garth View Garden

For others, there were jobs to do – how many men does it take to free a seized hinge?

Three men and a hinge

And what are we going to do without a motorhome engineer for a neighbour?

Friday 18th: and some half an hour earlier than expected, the removal lorry arrived.

A ramp is set up from the little gate to the side of the lorry, and the big carry-out began.

To our surprise, the bar was completely cleared within minutes – we THINK it all went into boxes!

Didn’t there used to be a piano there?

Overnight that corner looked like this:

Boxes where there used to be a piano

Picnic furniture from the car provided seating for a meal:

Saturday morning, another prompt, or early arrival:

The office and the kitchen got packed up:

Outside, Harry kept an eye on one end of the proceedings:

While Sally watched discreetly from the other:

Haven’t seen a clean and tidy (empty) shed for years!

The cleaner was last to be loaded!

Not her – the Dyson! Then “Off went the van with me ‘ome packed in it!” We hope to see it all again in 6 – 8 weeks’ time!

That evening S.K.T. cooked his last 2 meals at G.V. , using Harry’s pans and utensils. TWO meals? That’s right – one for then, and one to have after travelling on Monday evening.

Bon Appétit!

A PLACE IN THE SUN …… WELL, YES!

Garth View, Saturday 12th May 2012

After the disasterously unsuccessful attempts to add a day-by-day journal of the Cornish house-hunting and filming, it seems rather silly to do the whole thing in retrospect now that we’re back from France. I’ll put an album or two of the best photos from both visits on SkyDrive for those who’d like to see them.

Anyway, the three days in Cornwall left us with a clear favourite among the houses we had seen. It was this bungalow in Pelynt, four miles from the sea. It had ample space for Harry at the front and a nice, though small, conservatory at the rear.

B ?

And a conservatory .... It's a 'possible'.

To add to the attraction of the area we were taken there (apparently) by boat, along the coast from Polperro to Looe. Here’s Looe:

And so to France, where in spite of a few drops of drizzle as we landed at Carcassonne, the weather treated us to a heat waive, reaching 36.5° on Friday afternoon.

Hannah was still in charge as Producer, and the stop sign above her head in the photo is pointless because during the working day she never does!

PTDC0085

But in France the Presenter was Laura Hamilton (Dancing On Ice).

Assistant Producer, Antonio, introduced himself at the airport, when he met us, as our ‘babysitter’ for four days, and it has to be said that he sat on us (looked after us, that is,) very well.

The schedule was the same as in England; up at six, on the road at 7.30 or 8. Again, one property stood out, a 20 year old villa (?) built into the hillside above the suburb of Ginoles, near Quillan (in Aude). The views as we approached the house took our breath away – as did the walk up the hill, but never mind that …

Being built into the hill means that the main living space (and there’s plenty of it) is at ground level at the back, but one floor up at the front. The ‘basement’ is shared between the garage, a huge storage area and a potentially self-contained guest flat with its own french windows!

At the rear of the house (which stands in half an acre of garden to lose children in) there’s a wonderful full-width conservatory, or “véranda” in French …

The only disappointment was the kitchen which I just couldn’t see myself working in….

(Plot spoiler alert!!) I could go on, but let’s say that the TV programme ends with us making an offer to buy this spot. The price is amazingly well below what we are getting for Garth View, which will cover expenses and a new kitchen, and there’s talk of selling the flat at Murton View (which we’ve not managed to let yet) to put in a swimming pool.

Once the filming was over everything happened so fast! (Maybe too fast for comfort). The estate agent called for us at the hotel and we went to his office to give our details. “We’ve got nothing on you” he said. (He’s English) “Keep it that way”, I said. Then to the Notary’s office to make an innitial payment for him to draw up the ‘Compromis De Vente’ (We’re not legally committed till that is signed – a bit like exchanging contracts) then another visit to the house where this time we met the owners, also English.

We treated ourselves to a special supper and this morning Antonio completed his minder’s duties by driving us to the airport and ensuring we left the country. So that’s that! Removal men on Friday morning …

Take another look, though …

A PLACE IN THE SUN …… WELL, MAYBE!

Tuesday May 1st 2012: It’s been quite a day! Up at 6am, breakfast at 7, on the road (soon after) 7.30.

7.30am Tuesday ; are his trousers falling down, or is he just grumpy?

Grumpy old man!

First stop, Talland Bay Hotel, where we did the introductory interviews; a curious coincidence since it was at Talland Bay that we spent a week in the third ‘box’ in 2007! (Log and pics here:

http://sandconoliday.posterous.com/cornwall-september-2007 )(Everything from Posterous has vanished, unfortunately.)

First location, Talland Bay, where, by coincidence, we stayed with Box 3 in 2007.

The views are just as good, but the caravan park where we pitched is now an upmarket holiday village.

Carol gets miked up for the first time.

The team look happy:

The team look happy.

Cameraman and sound technician get set up:

Carol gets close to Presenter, Luke:

And finally, even Producer, Hannah, seems pleased with how things are going!

And Stephen finds a friend (gets a wet bum – the bench was damp).

Next, a picnic of Cornish cheese and cyder on the village green at Herodsfoot.

Where we then did our first house viewing. We wont say too much about it, but it was a charming beckside cottage in this little hamlet with the church high above.

There was much to like, but one particular downside – no Harryspace within the property, nor even immediately outside. Various possibilities were mentioned, but …

Anyway, we were then treated to a nice lunch at the ‘Fat Frog’ cafe in Liskeard, and driven back to our Hotel, The Crooked Inn:

Apart from a wet bench and some spillt cyder, a disaster had occured to one of SKT’s shoes which had more or less disintegrated during the morning! In that we were free of further commitments at about 4pm we went out in Sally and found a shopping outlet by the nearest major roundabout to buy a replacement pair, looking as close as we could get to the useless ones. (Same clothes tomorrow are a requirement.)

We then drove, as last year around Whitsand Bay, with the Sea a perfect blue – beat that, Med! – had fish and chips in Torpoint and returned to base, hoping to be able to get up at the same time and do it all – and more – again tomorrow!

HELLO! / SALUTON!

At Home at Garth View

Hello! I’m Harry. They called me that because I’m a Chausson ‘Flash 04’ and apparently there was a character in some old film called ‘Flash Harry’ and they thought it was funny … well, HE did, anyway.

d0fcf-ptdc0297

And my little friend there is Sally – that’s another film reference, something to do with Harry meeting Sally, I dont know … Anyway, I have to pull her around on long journeys which is a bit of a drag (!) but she’s quite a chic chick, so I don’t mind – except when it’s uphill on ice or gravel and then I just tell ’em – stick this for lark, I’m not playing. That gets them excited!

Photo Shoot in Mosedale

And this is THEM as they appear in this month’s ‘Living France’ magazine. Well, it’s just a bit of advertising for an estate agent, really. Mind you, we wiped the smirk off HIS face a bit back when he bashed me up again – on our own gate post! Nearly pulled my right-side rear light cluster off, he did. That’ll be another few hundred euros to spend in France, then!

We’re in France now, in fact. (October 2011) and I’ll be sending some postcards soon. Sun might shine before long, you never know!

POSTCARDS FROM HARRY (19)

Garth View, Sunday 27th November 2011.

Actually, Harry’s feeling a bit drained just now, and Sally’s busy running all sorts of everyday errands, so I’ll have to do it and tie up various loose ends.

Competitions: (Ah! Back home with familiar equipment – no problem to type that correctly!)

THAT is a ‘BOUFFADOU’. Holding it by the little twiggy bit, you blow through it to revive your fire or barbecue; we are assured that where there is the slightest glow, there will soon be a useful flame. Judi came close to identifying the function by suggesting ‘bellows’, and so won her very own packet of Little Schoolboys, which was presented to her during the reception at Rachel’s wedding:

Judi’s appreciation of Little Schoolboys (er … rephrase?) has already appeared as a comment on Postcard 17.

No-one came close to suggesting appropriate English wording for the notice at the swimming pool in the neighbouring campsite at Labenne, (see Postcard 12 if you really want to know what this is about!) so strictly speaking no-one won the prize. However, for the humour of her contribution and for entering into the concept of ‘Postcards From Harry’ with comments on several postings – not to mention her cheek in specifying the particular wine she was hoping for – we decided Meg should indeed receive a bottle of Vouvray Petillant, which was therefore handed over at the ‘Fayre and Square’ in Bury, where some family and friends met for lunch last Sunday, after the wedding:

Chris had a commendable go at working out the original French, but unfortunately, perhaps because he was taken ill (maybe the task made his brain go funny), he didn’t finish the job or post his suggestions on the blog. Still, we gave him a ‘highly commended’ prize of a bottle of Vin d’Oléron:

We think the English text should be something like:

ACTION TO BE TAKEN IN CASE OF …. Or better still WHAT TO DO IF … but notices of this sort are always written in latin-based formalese instead of straightforward anglo-saxon. Then , (on hearing three whistles) IMMEDIATE EVACUATION OF THE POOLS AND SURROUNDING AREAS. LEAVE YOUR BELONGINGS WHERE THEY ARE – YOU WILL GET THEM BACK AFTER THE EMERGENCY.

As for the French, it read:

CONDUITE A TENIR EN CAS DE

and referring to the evacuation:

BASSINS ET PLAGES

LAISSEZ SUR PLACE VOS AFFAIRES

The use of ‘tenir’ in this context is surprising, and what error led to the English word ‘like’ is a mystery, which is why I said we couldn’t have worked back to the French from the funny English.

After ‘showing his working’ Chris came up with “Conduisez-vous comme ceci en cas de” for the first part and suggested the English “How to behave if heard”, which gets the message across, but I can’t imagine an English writer putting it on a notice.

…. And one or two readers who’ve got this far may be puzzled by the first sentence of this posting. Harry is feeling ‘drained’ because we’ve done our best, without buying additional gadgetry, to empty both his fresh and used water tanks as a precaution against frost damage. Simples!

POSTCARDS FROM HARRY (18)

Abbey Wood Caravan Club Site, London, Sunday 6^th November.

No, the wind didn’t get up – but the rains came and beat upon that cliff-top and the motorhomes that stood thereon. So the hope that THEY might get up and take some lovely photos was not realised. But they did take piccies as it was, through the drizzle.

Boulogne beach

The black dots are birds. There were even people in the water, though it was difficult to see which hobby they were being schooled in – there wasn’t much surf:

Bathers at Boulogne

While they were having breakfast, there was a knock on the door and a man in a rather intimidating uniform (DOUANE) asked for the €5.10 for parking on the aire overnight. That’s how it’s done, though HE said he preferred the nice young lady in Coulon last year …

They left the cliff top at about 11 am and we made our way up to the motorway (free) and stopped at L’Epitre, the service area to which they had retreated that windy night a month ago, just for old time’s sake, as it were, …. and some pain au chocolat .

We got to Dunkirk in very good time, with no ferry in sight, but they checked in and sat on the quayside having coffee and pastries. The ship did arrive eventually and achieved a very quick turn-around so that we sailed more or less on time.

I heard THEY treated themselves to a good lunch during the crossing, then just outside Dover, where the weather was no better than it had been in France, they tried to book into Maidstone Caravan Club Site, but it was full because of a big firework display at Leeds Castle. So we drove on to London and Abbey Wood. Apparently THEY thought they’d been there before, but they hadn’t; they were thinking of Sevenoaks – a mistake anyone could make!

Once installed, HE created goodness-knows-what as a supper, bunging ALL the left-overs he could find into a pan, heating it all through and topping it with some bacon, mushrooms and a fried egg. Hmmm …

GARTH VIEW, Sunday evening 6^th November. Doing without breakfast, in the expectation of a Full English at Thurrock Services got us on the road about an hour earlier than usual. An easy route provided by the site got us to the M25 and eventually we got through the traffic on the roundabouts after the Dartford Tunnel and into the services so that they could have the anticipated breakfast. Next stop, London Colney for fuel before taking the former M10 and the M1 – SHE drove this section through to Corley on the M6. Weather improving steadily so that we had one of the best sunsets of the whole trip! One more stop – Forton / Lancaster for supper from BURGER KING (the joys of British catering!), and but for the fog in the last section, after Shap, we would have arrived at Garth View before 8pm, instead of just after. That was 518 kms (300+ miles) today, and 1798kms since leaving Labenne.

So we’re back home, then?

Yep.

It’s quite a good place to be.

It is – and Cumbria has the best weather in the country tomorrow.

It’s cold, though.

It is; it may freeze tonight. They’re going to put me in the garden and leave some heat on.

So that’s it – bye, then!

Goodnight, little car!

Goodnight, big van. Thanks for taking me over there.

It’s been fun – let’s do it again, soon.

Yes – tell THEM. Bonsoir!

Fais de beaux rêves ….

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THE ELEVEN STEPS ……

BUBBLES AND FIREWORKS!

BUBBLES AND FIREWORKS!

A WET DAY / A DRY DAY (OR TWO)

A WET DAY / A DRY DAY (OR TWO)

THE EIGHT-DAY BATTLE COMES TO AN END, MAYBE THE HOUSE HUNT WILL SOON, TOO

BATTLES WITH THE BANK AND THE TOUR DE FRANCE

ANOTHER SPECTACULAR DRIVE – AND A HOUSE RE-VISITED.

SALLY GETS TO GO OUT.

Oo là , là! On exagère, quoi!

NEW MONTH – DISAPPOINTING START.

HOUSE-HUNTING GETS SERIOUS. HARRY HAS A REST. SALLY FEELS CHEATED.

HARRY HEADS SOUTH (4) – AND MAKES IT TO LANGUEDOC!

HARRY HEADS SOUTH (3)

HARRY HEADS SOUTH (2)

GARTH VIEW: THE LAST DAYS.

A PLACE IN THE SUN …… WELL, YES!

A PLACE IN THE SUN …… WELL, MAYBE!

HELLO! / SALUTON!

POSTCARDS FROM HARRY (19)

POSTCARDS FROM HARRY (18)