Dordogne Holiday

Sunejo,Thursday, 22nd May 2014, c.17.50

Hallo, Lady Lucy!

Ah, Milord Harry, there you are! Where have you been? You did not send me any postcard;

I’ve only been away a week! And you haven’t been lonely, have you? People have been here, and you’ve been out and about.

How you know this?

That.

What?

It’s “How do you know that ”

Hm! Since when are you the expert teacher of the English?

I’m not. But anyway, there was a phone call. That’s how I know you’ve been out.

Je comprends …..So now, racontez – where do you go?

Did.

What?

“Where did you go?” or “Where have you been?”

C’est bizarre, ça!

We went to the Dordogne Valley. We left here at about 12.15 last Thursday –

Ah yes, I remember it well …..

– and travelled 300kms to the north. The weather was very fine and the snow on the Pyrenees is receding:

We crossed the River Lot:

and left the motorway at Souillac, where there is this magnificent railway viaduct, which SKT & CLT have often tried to photograph as we go by on the motorway, but never got a good one:

Then they got lost! Satnav couldn’t recognise the spot and the place we were looking for wasn’t on the signs! But just before 7pm we found ‘Soleil Plage’:and we pitched up on an “emplacement” with this view of the Dordogne just a few steps away:

On Friday they put the awning up beside me, so more space to have, and they went to swim in this pool complex:

And on Saturday they did very little also, but make bookings to do a canoe trip on Sunday and hire a car for Monday and Tuesday. SKT must tell you about these things.

Yes, the canoeing was wonderful. The ‘base de canoë’ was just outside the campsite (at the ‘beach’) and we booked the ‘Parcours Nature’. The man took us to the starting point by minibus (with one other couple) and the canoes on a trailer behind and pushed us out onto the river. We then had all day (if we’d wanted) to go with the flow 10 kms downstream to get back to ‘Soleil Plage’.

We had plenty of time to study the river bank:

the Castle of Montfort:

and the birdlife: this is probably a black kite:

After about an hour we beached the canoe (on the second attempt – the current took us past the first spot we aimed for!) and enjoyed the little picnic we’d taken with us:

Then, after another hour, as we came round the ‘Cingle de Montfort’ (more later) and past the campsite, some friends we’d made, who had a riverside pitch just near Harry, took our photo as we paddled by:

They told us that several people had grounded their canoe in the shallow water to the left at that spot, so we felt a bit chuffed at avoiding that, and steering successfully in to the beach on the first attempt. A highlight of the holiday – the weather had been ideal; unbroken sunshine, but not so hot that we were constantly thirsty, sunburnt or exhausted.

We swam again – in the pool, not the river! – and that evening we treated ourselves to an excellent locally themed meal at the on-site restaurant.

[The arrival of a German party led to an ineresting exchange between them and the waiter which has prompted me to put a little rant on my neighbour blog ‘Daddy Says ….’ Have a look if you like, but be warned – it’s Esperanto propaganda!

THE SCANDAL OF LANGUAGE

]

Monday May 19th: Once we had the hire car we made our way downstream by road to see Beynac and ride in a different sort of boat, a ‘gabarre’, a flat-bottomed boat formerly used as river transport, taking, eg, nuts to Bordeaux and bringing back essentials, eg, wine.

Beynac, ‘un des plus beaux villages de France’, occupies a spectacular site and it’s castle remained in English hands – and loyal to the English kings – during the hundred years war,

whereas this one, on the other side of the river, changed loyalties several times. (It would then have been just the fortress, without the stately home.) It’s now owned by a Texan millionaire, not oil – the inventor of the car crusher, apparently.

The river trip, with effective commentary in French and English, afforded excellent views and interesting historical insights, so we were well pleased with it.

However, we then tried to find some gardens which we had been told were ‘absolument magnifique’. Once again, satnav let us down, we couldn’t find it on the map, and signage was inconsistent. We really were going round in circles, passing one school at least three times! Gardens are Carol’s thing and I was tired, so when we found it, I let her visit on her own. I fear she was disappointed. ‘Keep off the grass’ signs were everywhere and there’s a limit to how much topiary and how many box hedges one can enjoy in one place! Still here are a few of her pictures:

Back at base we swam again and enjoyed a ‘Blanquette de Veau’ that we’d bought earlier – tinned, but tasty. Then we invited the neighbours, Mike and Sandra – that’s them in the water with Carol – to coffee and what would have been in ‘the library’ if we’d brought it with us!

Meanwhile, Harry chatted up the little white car – sorry, Lucy!

Ca m’est égal. He can ‘chat up’ , as you say, who he want.

Hmmm ……

Tuesday 20th May 2014: Having the car for a second day, we set off for Rocamadour. However, our first stop was quite close by at the ‘Cingle de Montfort’. The information panel was missing from the rough parking area beside the road, but we later found out that ‘Cingle’ is a local word referring to a meander. It’s some bend! We took far too many photos of the river, saying “we’ve been down there”, and a few of the castle. Then I realised that the cliff behind us was perhaps even more interesting:

We picnicked overlooking an artificial lake at Gourdon, and made our way across country to Rocamadour, wondering whether SATNAV was choosing the best route (we decided later that she wasn’t). Rocamadour is certainly spectacular, but that said, both it and the ‘Grotte des Merveilles’ (no photos allowed) were disappointing. The road train ride from the car park at the bottom to the village added nothing either by way of views or information, for there was no commentary, and the narrow street was very ‘Mont St Michel’.

The visit to the cave (the ‘grotte’) took 80 minutes instead of the supposed 40 because, out of consideration for members of the group who spoke no French, the guide said everything twice!

We made our own route to get back to Soleil Plage, and were quite sure it was quicker, and more scenic, than SATNAV’s. We decided to go for a meal at a Pizza restaurant in the last village before Montfort, and just as we parked up the weather broke (we’d seen it coming) and we dodged the the first drops of what developed into a terrific storm.

The meal was good, but back chez Harry we found him surrounded by a sea of mud and began to wonder how we were going to dismantle and stow the awning (‘Harriette’!) and whether, indeed, we’d be able to drive off the pitch without slipping and sinking …..

Things were better in the morning, and Harriette was dry by the afternoon, thunderstorms were forecast so we bustled about and got everything packed up much more successfully than we had feared. As we emptied the tent of ‘stuff’ we found this gentleman lurking in a corner, and very reluctant to leave!:

We were just finishing puting the bikes on the rack (they would have been quite useful on site but one of the pedals seized up on mine which made riding it a bit tricky), when the first raindrops fell, at exactly 5.30pm. Within seconds we were experiencing the most terrific thunderstorm, torrential rain hammering on Harry’s roof, prolonged streaks of lightning and tremendous thunderclaps. I’d really liked to have seen more of it and tried some photos, but there was no suitable viewpoint without getting soaked! However, we still had that little white car with us; I’d waited half an our for the man on the car park, but he still hadn’t come for it! So when the rain eased off a bit we darted out and DROVE (!) up to the swimming pool to use the covered area. (There were three sections, covered and heated, outdoor and heated, outdoor unheated.) While we were there the hammering started again ….

We had a ‘three tin meal’ during which Mike came round to say the mud wasn’t too bad and we could get to their caravan after supper, if we didn’t mind taking footwear off in the awning before stepping in! We did that and played a closely contended rubber of bridge over a bottle of red wine. They won from game all, 90 all, for those who know what that means. It’s a bit like 2 sets each and 4 all final set in tennis.

The rain had stopped and when we stepped out of the caravan the stars were absolutely brilliant! However, that didn’t last, and in the small hours the flashes, crashes and hammering started again.

The morning was something else! All was calm and surprisingly dry. Grey, low cloud at first, but within minutes of sun-up, it had all burnt off. These photos couldn’t have been taken five minutes later, honest!

We’d packed everything except the picnic table and we’d ordered pastries, so we settled down to outdoor breakfast, together with the usual visitors:

The great tit was very tame and had perched from time to time on the ketchup bottle and the thermos as well as the seats and the table. We also had visits from, or saw, sparrows, a robin, blackbird, goldfinches, greenfinches and, we think, goldcrests.

But it was time to go. Harry moved off pitch without problems and we left the little car on the car park and the key at reception, which neither we nor the staff were very pleased about, but the man didn’t seem to think there was any issue.

Harry?

Ja?

Do you want to narrate the journey home?

There’s nothing to tell, really. You’ve gone on long enough. We stopped at Aire Jardin for lunch and the view of the Piebald Pyrenees was much clearer than sometimes and seen sooner – before Toulouse. And here we are – Lady? ….. She’s gone to sleep! I said you’d gone on too long.

……….

Maybe, but we have to say it was nice to swim in our own pool before enjoying a salmon and couscous supper that Judy and Carol prepared for us. Next day, Sunejo let the minders go:

and on the way to the airport we had lunch in Limoux – outdoors till another heavy shower drove us indoors for dessert:

(Lucy has actually woken up and told Harry about what happened at Sunejo while we were away. You can see that here:

http://carolthompson73.wordpress.com/2014/05/28/house-sitting/

We’re very grateful to Judi & Carol for coming over and looking after the house, the plants and the pool. It’s good that both we and they were lucky with the weather. So, who’s next?

Postcards to Lucy 4th-20th March 2014

Hey, Harry!

Ja?

Why don’t you send Lucy a postcard or two?

Lady Lucy? Why should I do that?

Well, she might be lonely – you know what it’s like.

But she never talks to me; what language should I use?

Well, she is French, but I guess she’ll cope with English. Just add a few comments to some recent photos.

Na, gut.

Hallo, Lucy. This is me parked outside Chrys and Jan’s at Potter’s Bar, just after THEY paid for me to have a complete handwash on the car park at Tesco’s in Welwyn. Don’t I look white?

While staying at Potters Bar, I took THEM to Baldock to visit Hilde, who had also invited Kathy to lunch. THEY gave me a fill up, too!

Monday 10th March: We moved on to Surbiton to stay with HIS brother and Sister-In-Law, though THEY sleep in (Niece) Carol’s flat, which is just across the corridor.

Next day, Brother Philip lent THEM his BRAND NEW car to go to Peckham to visit Vik, Scout and Rosie! He hadn’t even driven it himself except back from the dealer’s!

Many thanks to GPT for that, and a big plus to LV who added us both to the insurance with no fuss and a very modest fee. We had a lovely few hours with Vik, who, along with Scout and Rosie, enjoyed looking at photos of previous encounters:

The stay at Surbiton finished with a meal at the Café Rouge with Philip and Carol Junior:

Thursday 13th March: We moved down to Bransgore, near Christchurch. It was fine and warm when we arrived and THEY enjoyed a cup of tea and an Eccles Cake (you don’t know what that is, Lucy, eh?) in the sunshine:

That evening THEY went down to Mudeford to have Abendessen (tea / dinner / supper – evening meal; what you call it varies not only with how big a meal it is, but also where you are. Here in Yorkshire it’s always ‘tea’) with Martyn and Jasmine at the pub on the quay.

THEY’ve both been coughing too much since Huddersfield, and with sore throat and eyes as well HE got the bike off my back on Friday morning and went to see a doctor. HE came back with a prescription for antibiotics, and instructions to have steam inhalations first. It was a pity to be unwell because the weather was fine and I could have taken them somewhere nice if THEY’d felt like going out. THEY also changed the plans for next week so as not to get to Wakefield while still possibly infectious – baby, you know!

Saturday 15th March: This afternoon THEY went to see how the work was progressing at Martyn & Jasmine’s new house in Mudeford. …. It’s progressing, in spite of ongoing problems with planning permission. There was quite a nice sunset that evening – though you get better ones in Sonnac, occasionally.

Sunday 16th March: We moved north again and parked up at Poynton, but straight away went on to Stockport to have dinner (Cheshire!) with Daniel. Back at Poynton, the night was quiet till the geese started cackling!

The final choice, after debate, for the next two nights, was to visit Wharfedale and stay on the Club site near Grassington. That was a fairly easy move, and the location is beautiful. But the rain started overnight and this was the ‘view’ through my front window on Tuesday morning:

Not much better through the side:

But I took them down to Skipton to visit Malcolm and Barbara Jones. HE and Malcolm go back many years as fellow Esperanto speakers (and actors). That evening they all went to a concert by a really international chamber orchestra. I sat in the car park and people seemed very happy as they came out afterwards.

Wednesday 19th March:Much better weather today:

Some people in a nearby caravan had set up a bird feeding station, which had attracted a big male pheasant in his ‘come-and-get-me’ colours and his lady friend, not to mention a pigeon:

We went down into Grassington and paid for two hours parking. In the village HE was playing the Grumpy Old Man:

That is, until after visiting the nearby retail outlet:

THEY had lunch before leaving the car park – good views – then we shopped at Morrison’s in Skipton and set off for what should have been just over an hour’s drive to Sharlston – it took nearly two hours! An absolutely dreadful stop-start route round Bradford. Really hard work for HIM and me. Never again, we hope!

But we got there just in time for Carol to prepare a nice fish pie for TEA, while I entertained Shannon – or was it the other way round? Anyway here she is after breakfast this morning:

SUNEJO’S FIRST FULL HOUSE

Regular readers will remember that we had our first visitor (Mark) the day the furniture arrived, then another single (Daniel) at Christmas. Rachel and Sean came in February, and now we’ve had a ‘full house’ with the visit of Philip, Christine, Carol & Judi. However, there’s still the room above the garage, Harry wasn’t used as a spare room, and no tents were put up in the garden, so there’s still plenty of space!

The first step in receiving four visitors arriving with luggage at an airport is to hire a car big enough! Harry and Sally can seat only four people each including the driver, so the alternative is to go in convoy. Here in France most of the big supermarket chains do car and van hire so we chose our regular Super U in Mirepoix and booked a 7-seater Qashqai which we picked up on Saturday evening May 18th, ready to head for Toulouse on Sunday morning.

Toulouse welcomed our visitors with a torrential thunderstorm before they even got into the car – fortunately we were all under cover. But Toulouse is two counties away and as we came through Arriège skies cleared and snow-capped Pyrenees were in sight.

The improving weather meant that by the time we reached Camon, the little village just over the county boundary from here, there was sunshine. This was fortunate, both for us and for the village, where this was their biggest day of the year. Camon’s ‘Fête Des Roses’ is an annual event which draws visitors from miles around. You can find information and pictures by entering ‘Fête Des Roses, Camon’ in your search engine, and I’m spoilt for choice as to which of our photos to show here. We were very lucky to park that big car right opposite the little snack van, ‘La Camonette’ where we had lunch. (It’s a French pun, which is very unusual; a Camionette is a van.)

Furniture is organised, drinks are in hand, now all we need is FOOD! (The big black car is centre left, behind Philip’s hat – how do you tag a car?)

Roses grow round almost every door in Camon and most were in full bloom, obligingly:

Local crafts and produce were on sale beside every street and up and down every alley, as were plants, herbs, and lots of rose bushes.

We bought olives and garlic and ginger, as well as a couple of patio plants.

Eventually tearing ourselves away from ‘one of the prettiest villages in France’ we drove the remaining five minutes over the county boundary to Sunejo, which, for that day at least, was living up to its name.

Once settled, people decided that a walk down to the river might be a good idea. Last time we took photos down there, there was a big log jam against the bridge; that has now been cleared:

Back at home, a leg of lamb had been in the slow cooker since 8am and, although this was no ‘perfect’ summer’s evening, dinner was served on the terrace. An unusually good sunset followed.

A priority on Monday morning was to go to Mirepoix and add Philip, Carol and Judi to the paperwork at Super U so that they could drive the car if needed. This didn’t add to the cost but the shop needed to see and photocopy their licences – cards and counterparts. That done, we went into the town to see the special Whit Monday market. (Some readers will remember when England had Whit Monday!) The market was a special ‘Brocante et Foire aux Plantes’ – Second hand goods and plant fair, so some of the same garden stalls were there as at Camon the day before. Again, spoilt for choice as to photos:

One of the cafés under the arcades is entirely vegetarian so that provided a suitable light lunch for everyone, then we went to look at the Eglise Rupestre, or Church in the Rock, at Vals:

A very unusual spot which we’ve been meaning to look at since we first saw the signs to it and Mark told us about it. You go in through a crack in the rock:

Then make your way up three levels:

Stopping to admire the Frescos on level two, or even taking time to study them:

Before emerging onto a balcony, with panoramic views towards the (snow-capped) Pyrenees.

Passing back through Mirepoix on the way home, the Nieces decided to investigate the ‘Voie Verte’, the long distance footpath, formerly the railway line which links Mirepoix, Camon, Sonnac and Chalabre, then on to Lavelanet.

They reported on a pleasant walk:

with excellent scenery, including views of the mountains:

But at Camon it was time to call in and say they had contact with the road and should perhaps be picked up or be late for dinner.

Dinner which, for the meat-eaters, was that now well-known specialité de la maison –

–Du Camping-Car!

Er, sorry, OK, Harry, secialité du camping-car, Lapin au Van.

Increasingly uncertain weather did allow Tuesday morning’s breakfast to be taken outside, but that was the last of al fresco eating till the final morning. Most of the rest of the week was spent dodging showers during trips or weather-watching from inside the ‘french’ windows!

Nevertheless, the under 40s did manage to get in one or two more walks and a bike ride without getting TOO wet

(I’m sure there’s an over-40 in that photo!)

And these occasions gave the over-65s the chance to play several rubbers of quite evenly-matched bridge.

On Wednesday, and in spite of the weather, which did at least dry up for the afternoon / evening, the visitors chose to ride ‘Le Train Rouge’ from Axat to St. Paul. We did this on Carol’s birthday last year, so we have shown photos of it before, but this time we ‘stalked’ the train in the big black car, which gave us the chance to take pictures OF the train, not FROM it:

From St. Paul we drove up the Galamus Gorge, which we have done several times before, and shown you pictures of it. Actually, this time we drove UP it, down it, and back up again! Many, many photos were taken, though it’s difficult to capture new views, but here are a couple from that day:

That evening we were treated – many thanks – to dinner at the Café du Fleuve in Quillan (Mike & Vincent’s), where we were very well received, of course, and the Irish Coffees which the Thompson Brothers indulged in at the end were served with particular flair:

On Friday I had an appointment in Carcassonne, so – again, in spite of the weather – everyone decided to DO Carcassonne that day. April showers in May is the best way to describe it, and no sooner had I dropped them off at the gates of the Citadel, than the heavens opened and they scurried into the first café they found and had, in fact, quite a nice lunch. Then they chose to ride in the little tourist road train, rather than visit the Castle as Carol and I had done, and they say it ‘validates the blow’.

They also visited the Cathedral:

And after I picked them up again we drove to Castelnaudary to look at the big harbour on the Canal du Midi. The Brothers played safe and sampled the wine at the ‘Cave du Bassin’ but the Ladies walked around. Maybe they just failed to keep an eye on the weather, or perhaps it was the excitement of spotting a coypu in the water:

but they got caught in another terrific downpour, and they were off-road so ‘rescue’ was difficult!

After dinner that evening there was a musical (sort of) interlude:

[Philip made a video of one the songs from this session; a bilingual, semi-toothless version of ‘Down By The Riverside / Apud La Riverbord’. Those who can’t resist it, or who are just curious, might find it here: http://youtu.be/NnH7dY2wQCo ]

On Saturday there was a horse display in Quillan and some wanted to go and see it.

So I got to do my bit for the week! Only four people wanted to go down the squiggles, so I took them, instead of Big Black Bertie, or comment il s’appelle.

You did! Did you see any horses?

Erm, non, but M’dame and the others did.

Outdoor eating was still not an option, but we tried to put on a last evening special, including steak-frites with sauce aux champignons.

(And a cloth on the table!)

And so came Sunday morning; with the party having nothing to do but pack and have an early lunch, the weather finally turned sunny again, so as on day one, lunch was served on the terrace, as it should be at this time of year – or any time of year, really.

Two happy diners – and an uninvited guest??

Whose pet dragon is that?

Lunch over, we were on the road to get to Toulouse – no thunderstorms – with comfortable time to check in, and plenty of opportunity on the way to take pictures of those snow-capped Pyrenees:

With a last one after take-off:

Footnote: We (the remaining residents) had to get up early on Monday (27th) to return the big black car to Mirepoix at start of business. That done, we went into the town for café-croissants and to see the regular market. (There’s always a market on Monday, but last week’s was different for Pentecost) It was just as busy as a week ago, but with more foodstuff, crafts and clothes.

In the café, we found ourselves sitting next to some people from Exeter who were part of a choir (unaccompanied, close-harmony) who were giving a concert that evening in the Cathedral. They were just going out to sing a few numbers around the market as publicity, so we followed them:

They were so good that we went back to Mirepoix in the evening and heard the concert, which we enjoyed. Not only that, but we’d never set foot inside Mirepoix cathedral before, which is well worth a look. Sometimes it’s good to get up early!

STEPHEN GETS LEAVE OF ABSENCE AND TAKES HARRY AWAY ….

We got back from England to find the big pear tree in full bloom and the grass knee-high and gone to seed. The blossom didn’t last because the wind got up almost at once and blew it all off and the rain made us wait several days before tackling the grass.

The challenge was too great and the little ‘tracteur’ gave up before the job was done ….

Looks like you’re giving up, too!

Hey, Harry, who asked you? I didn’t give up – I coaxed little Terrence back to life!

Terrence?

Got a better name for him?

And that’s not “Get me a drink”; it’s TOAD doing a ‘POOP-POOP’!

A disappointment: the swimming pool – behind me in the picture – has so far been unuseable, and we don’t know what to do about it. It’s a long story and we don’t want to go on about it, but the water remains green in spite of several treatments and we can’t get the ph right. It also needs cleaning and maybe the liner is ‘past it’.

A delight: Sunday May 5th – for the first time, we ate all three meals out of doors.

An amusement: one (or more) of ‘our’ great tits has taken to perching on Harry’s exterior mirror and then gets very …… excited about his own reflections in the window and the mirror. So far we’ve been unable to photograph this as he always sees us approaching –

and you should see the mess he makes! You could photograph that.

Hmmm ….. maybe not. More bird life – swallows have arrived and wheel and swoop at varying heights over the field which surrounds the house. The crop in the field is now recognisable as barley and in spite of being waterlogged for some of the time it has survived the winter and looks promising.

Now, ‘after much debate internal’ – and some with Carol – I eventually and belatedly decided to enrol for the French Esperanto Congress, which has just taken place in Bordeaux. Go on, Harry …..

Ja – Mittwoch den achten –

English!

Oops! Wednesday 8th, about midday HE and I left HER and Sally to look after each other and Sunejo and set off for this combination of new experiences. (Just the two of us and a French Congress) First event was that HE realised that although HE had taken quite a bit of food, which HE didn’t need, HE’d forgotten the chicken leg for his lunch, which he did need. We had to stop at Mirepoix and buy a sandwich.

We made good progress then for the rest of the 350 kms and easily found the ‘kongresejo’, which was very close to the motorway in Antigues-Près-Bordeaux. As we approached the main building a lady on the steps gestured to us to go left and all the way round the building. HE’d been told in advance that not only was there parking available but that we could stay there during the Congress (but without electricity), so the gesture seemed to make sense, and anyway we could see at least one other motorhome already parked up (there were others). The way round the building was narrow, but OK, but then we saw the final approach to the parking area was down a steep tarmac ramp and there was probably no way I could do it without grounding at the back as the front levelled off. Backing off didn’t seem to be an option, though, so we carefully went down the ramp; a nasty scraping noise began as the front wheels got to level ground and continued for several seconds! Once we’d parked HE had a look at the back, but couldn’t see any obvious damage; there was a fresh white stripe on the tarmac, though, about 65cms long. Any thought of going to look for a camp site was abandoned; there we were and there we were stopping. How we would get off again was another matter …

That evening was the Congress’s formal dinner. I was lucky in where I chose to sit; French ‘Esperantists’ have a reputation for speaking French among themselves (that’s called ‘krokodili’) but I found a table where all five of my fellow diners were keen to use Esperanto and pleased to have a ‘foreigner’ to provide a reason to do so. (Though my Congress badge said ‘Francio’ – but I soon put that right!)

Two companions of the round table – a very nice couple, and quite a nice seafoody starter, too.

I am, of course, pouring wine for one of the nice people – that’s not MY glass, you understand ……

Nothing much of really general interest to report from Thursday, except that it rained most of the day, and maybe that’s not interesting, either.

But fortunately Friday was fine. Fortunately because I had booked an excursion to see Bordeaux by panoramic bus. I didn’t realise that meant open-sided! I’d have worn an extra garment if I’d known. But it was a good trip, with a well-delivered commentary in clear Esperanto from a man with good microphone technique.

Here are a few pictures: An impressive square with statue / fountain.

One of Bordeaux’ surviving gates from when it was a walled city.

Fascinating lamps on the Stone Bridge.

During the dinner on Wednesday evening one of the organisers had come round asking for contributions to the final concert on Friday evening. I said ‘I’ll sing if you want – and play the guitar’. She said ‘You’ve got a guitar?’ – ‘Yes’ – ‘Really?’ -‘Yes, really’ – ‘Here at the Congress?’ – ‘Yes’ – ‘A real guitar?’ – ‘A real guitar’. And I added ‘Don’t worry; I have some experience’. She still didn’t actually believe in this guitar, but took a risk and said I could do three songs.

Wow! I don’t think anyone there (about 250 people) had ever seen or heard me before, and they loved it! The Esperanto versions of ‘If I Had a Hammer’, The Whistling Gipsy’ and ‘Down By The Riverside’ were as well received as ever by an audience who just didn’t know what to expect! There’s no photo (that I’ve seen) of that event, so here’s one taken on a previous occasion:

Saturday morning was COLD in Harry –

That was your fault for going to bed with the skylight open! So anyway, HE tried to use the diesel heater, but could get it to run; he tried to get some hot water to wash and shave with, but that wouldn’t work; he tried to fill the kettle from the tap, THAT didn’t work! Finally he had a look at the control panel, and worked out that the leisure battery was flat. Sorry, M’sieur, (as our little friend calls you), but THREE NIGHTS using the water, the fridge, the heaters and the lights with no movement during the day and no hook-up is TOO MUCH.

OK – I get it. Having brought some hard boiled eggs, as well as raw ones, from home, I thought I’d have a Dutch or German style breakfast, with egg and cheese. So I made coffee (with mineral water from a bottle) and got one of the eggs out of the fridge. Only after tapping it on my plate did I realise it was one of the UNCOOKED ones! Still, I hadn’t made a total mess of it, and I was able to change the plan and scramble it.

So then we had to get off that parking area. HE went up to the reception of the centre and came back with a very nice young lady who said ‘drive round on the grass’. It looked a bit so-so, but she said it was firm enough and the groundsman wouldn’t mind …. We drove off the tarmac onto the grass, well, more buttercups and daisies, really, then tried to turn up the hill towards the driveway above the ramp. Skid, skid skid. ‘Reverse back to the level’ said the nice lady and try between these two trees’. We reversed. We tried between those two trees. Skid, skid, skid. ‘Back off again’ said the nice lady, ‘and stay on the level to the corner, then come up to that concrete stand where the bench is then back to the driveway.’ We did that! And it worked; a bit of manoeuvering to get between two posts onto the tarmac and then to face the right way and we were FREE! We said goodbye to the nice lady and went to buy some milk ……

We stopped at Pamiers for fuel and Mirepoix for a bit of shopping and just after 5pm, we pulled into Sunejo, where Carol was beautifying the terrace with tubs and hanging baskets and Sally was sleeping under her shelter.

Mais non! I was not sleeping, just standing by till I was needed again.

That’s what I do most of the time.

Alors, voilà. I’m very wide awake, tu sais ….

THE STORY SO FAR.

Start of November 2012

My first attempt at ‘blogging’, or keeping a photo-journal as I prefer to call it, was two years ago under the title ‘Travels With Harry’. Harry’s our motorhome:

DSCN3795

Harry was followed around, very closely, by a little red car called Sally – another cinematic reference. (Harry is a Chausson ‘Flash’ 04; Flash Harry, get it?)

Bugarach and Galamus (14)

We spent two months of that autumn (2010) trying to decide where to live in France, looking mainly at the area west of Poitiers, known as the Marais Poitevin:

and Languedoc, where we had holidayed before, but friends had warned us to check it out out of season before deciding. In spite of the risk of cold winds, Languedoc won by virtue of the spectacular scenery:

We found a house we really wanted to buy, in a little town in the hills, called Sournia:

and we thought all we had to do was get back home to Garth View:

sell up, and come back with the money!

Ah well, it didn’t work out just like that! It took a year to sell Garth View and by January 2012 a lot had changed. Rachel had married Sean

and become Stepmother to Megan and Becky; Chris and Michelle were about to adopt a family and the house at Sournia, which would now have been too small anyway, was off the market.

Quirkily, some may think, to help sell Garth View, we bought a flat in Appleby!:

Well, it helped us declutter …. We did take time out for a month in France but we didn’t house-hunt; instead we went down the west (Atlantic) coast as far as the Pays Basque:

Throughout that trip the diary was kept as a series of ‘postcards’ as written by Harry. But shopping and excursions were done in the little red car, Sally:

PTDC0002

so it became necessary to let her write a few of the postcards in her more excitable, Gallic style. Increasingly, the two vehicles were sparking off each other in a ‘married couple’ sort of way – a bit like us, funnily enough…. and they were coupled together a lot of the time!

The new family situation made me hesitate again about France, so when the opportunity came to film ‘A Place in the Sun, Home or Away?’, we took it, looking on camera at three houses in Cornwall

and three in Languedoc.

There was no competition! Once a way to manage inheritance issues had been explained, it was a simple case that the money we now had from the sale of Garth View would not buy us anything as nice as Garth View in Cornwall,

but something even nicer in France. What was to discuss? We offered to buy one of the properties the ‘Place in the Sun’ team had shown us:

BUT! On the way to sign the contract, before we even got to Dover, Harry broke down big time. We spent 3 weeks with Esperanto-Speaker, Trevor, waiting for the repair. The expense of that and the realisation that we might need to upgrade the motorhome meant we could no longer afford the house near Quillan. We withdrew, and eventually came back to the same area and started again. Spending two months living in Harry on a delightful, we might say, idylic campsite, beside the lake at Puivert,

we looked at about 30 houses and finally chose this one:

On the edge of a village and with a small swimming pool it seemed to be what we were looking for. A long wait ensued. French bureaucracy moves slowly at the best of times, but during August ! – nothing moves. We took possession on September 21st and the furniture ETC. (oh, yes – and the rest!) arrived a week later, as did our first visitor, Cousin Mark, by motorbike:

Five days later we had to turn our back on everything and head for the Channel. A brilliant 3 weeks included Nick’s wedding (one of Carol’s nephews):

Rachel’s 40th birthday party

and meeting the new Grandchildren.

Now here we are, all builders and boxes. And we are Harryless! On the way north we left him in Poitiers for a repair to some damage to his back end, expecting to pick him up three weeks later. Another ‘best laid scheme’ which ganged a-gley! M. Antoine, the nice motorhome-specialist-repair-man can’t get the part! The little red car was at first intimidated, then dead chuffed about bringing us all the way home on her own!

So for the next few weeks anything worth putting on the blog will be house related and unlikely to be reported by Sally, at least until the day comes when we are able to go and re-unite her with Harry. (Watch out for pink print – you’ll know she’s back!)

‘Sunejo’ is an Esperanto word meaning ….. (more or less) ‘A Place in the Sun’. This was sunrise the morning after we got back from the trip to the UK:

SALLY GOES SOLO; (1) POITIERS TO PORTMADOC

Oui, c’est moi, toute seule. Just me ( and M’sieur) ; no big Harry butting in with his interruptions in German. It’s my blog now, so let’s make the most of it.

Friday 5^th October: we left Harry at M. Antoine’s who will look after him and make him look nice again, just like he did 2 years ago. Then we went brm-brm full steam ahead – MY speed, not Harry’s, through Tours and on towards Rouen.

We stopped at a nice rest place where M’sieur et M’dame had some lunch at a picnic table and we got to Rouen in good time – their friend was not actually at his house when we arrived so M’sieur had to phone him to say we were there.

But he wasn’t far away and we had a very nice evening with old friends Martine and Jeanot invited to dinner to talk over old times and set the present world to rights, then after a good night’s sleep –

After breakfast that nice Frenchman said he would lead us through Rouen to where we could join the fast road above the tunnel, because the approach to the tunnel was closed. C’était magnifique! It was like ‘Bullet’ – a car chase round the back streets of Rouen! M’sieur was like Steve McQueen and M’dame was hanging on for dear life with her eyes shut! But it worked – a quick ‘au revoir’ in front of a petrol station and we were away vroom, vroom, no problem, except the weather which was appalling! But as we got near Calais it got better and by the time we were getting on the ferry the sun was shining and the sea was as smooth as you could wish. We were very cheeky – lots of other cars were on before us, but when we got on this man waived us round the other side and all the way to the front of the ship, so that at Dover we were first off the ferry, through the port and away! Driving on the left! …. Bizarre!

We spent the first 5 nights at Chrys & Jan’s. As it happens, the DVD of our ‘Place in the Sun’ programme had arrived that morning so we had our first viewing of that.

During the days that followed Carol got a haircut, I got a broken crown fixed, we had some lovely meals, and visted the gardens at Forty Hall and Myddleton House with Kathy (Horton). Chrys & Jan left for Wales on Wednesday and we went to meet Philip & Christine in London. We had lunch in the park in Russell Square (Wot? No photos?) and then went to the British Musem where there was an outdoor exhibition of North American Landscapes, and we all took an interest in different stuff inside – or the shops opposite. After a nice early-evening meal at ‘Spaghetti House’ we went to see ‘Blood Brothers’. Stunning!

Ça alors! I had to sit outside Potters Bar railway station during all that …. Got a bit of a giggle when they came back, though – they couldn’t open the door to Chrys & Jan’s house! M’dame tried, then M’sieur tried, but neither of them could turn the key at all. It was not quite midnight, so they knocked up the people over the road who had another key which worked OK so they didn’t have to sleep on the drive – in ME!

Thursday 11^th October: They got up and left the house with NO BREAKFAST! But we only went as far as Sainsbury’s at London Colney where they checked my tyre pressures and things and then had a brunch. M’dame bought a dress to wear at the wedding disco, too ….

The weather was horrible on the way to Wales, and there was a long very slow section on the M6, north of the toll. But I buzzed along whenever I could and got them to Deganwy by 6 o’clock.

Time to go green! In other words, we were making use of Esperanto hospitality again. Hilary Chapman was the first person who spoke to me in Esperanto on the phone when I was learning it in about 1979. He was also responsible for my going to Loughborough to teach Esperanto on the Summer Programme, for they’d asked him first, but he couldn’t do it and recommended me. No Loughborough, no Carol – you’d think she’d have learnt Esperanto by now, wouldn’t you?! Anyway, when we needed somewhere to stay in North Wales, Hilary and Pat were an obvious first couple to turn to and we were delighted with our visit. On Thursday evening we took them out for a meal and on Friday we first visited Conwy’s Town Hall, where we were able to view the Council Chamber as Hilary is a Councillor:

Then we walked along the town’s walls, with some excellent views of the castle:

Llandudno’s Great Orme:

And the Vardre, overlooking Deganwy, where the original Castle stood:

There was also a view of what may be the smallest house in Britain: (though those acquainted with the Bridge House in Ambleside may dispute that!):

After a luch of Hilary’s home-made leek and potato soup, we were out again to go up to the gap between the two tops of the Vardre. Unfortunately, the weather changed and we had to find what shelter we could from a very heavy shower. Splendid rainbow, though! (Camera battery low and replacements not to hand!)

So I had a day’s rest and then on Saturday morning, 13^th October, it was off along the coast and up the valley beyond Llanberis to Nant Peris at the foot of Snowdon. It should have been a beautiful drive, but the weather was nasty and there was a long section of roadworks which made everyone late for the wedding – including the bride! On the way we picked Daniel up, impossible as that may have seemed in view of the amount of their STUFF I’ve been carrying around since we left Harry. (Hope he’s OK, over there on his own ….. Mais naturellement, il est content – of course he is happy; there are lots of other motorhomes there!)

The wedding of Nick (M’dame’s nephew) and Ceri was in a beautiful setting! Unfortunately it was raining when we arrived, but during the service –

Bilingual

What?

In two languages.

Sacré bleu! During the service, the rain stopped and there was a bit of sunshine, so everyone was taking photographs.

Bride and groom pause in the Churchyard, just for me!

A Chimney Sweep in attendance.

The Bride preparing to leave the Church.

Then there was another drive to Criccieth for the reception. Between the big photo call and the meal, we went on to Portmadoc where M’sieur and M’dame were booked in to the Travel Lodge. M’dame was going to change into that dress she had bought on Thursday, BUT the assistant had left the security tag attached so she couldn’t wear it!

We really shouldn’t have been able to leave the shop with it, but somehow we did. Back at Criccieth we were just a few moments late, but we enjoyed one of the best wedding ‘breakfasts’ we’ve ever had, and let’s say that the bride was one of the loveliest ever – apart from the one on November 19^th last year, of course.

Afternoon merged into evening which passed with plenty of wine and things and music which was only a bit too loud. Shortly before midnight Carol drove us back to Portmadoc and we had a quiet night’s sleep. Thanks to all concerned for a lovely day.

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!

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