Christmas 2024

December 14th:

Rachel visited with the youngest granddaughter, Ava, with the sole purpose of getting all the Christmas things down from the attic and decorating the tree, and maybe some other bits. So later that day:

Job done! And next day:

Reprimand it! (= tick it off …)

Some presents were bought locally and some were ordered online, and were promptly delivered, so a wrapping station was needed:

It was Christmas Eve by now, so that corner of the table had to be transformed:

Quelle transformation!

A tradition was established sometime in the late sixties (can you do that?) that Christmas Eve tea was – pancakes! So, even on my own:

Pancakes it was! But ….

…. I’ve never had one (or more) on Christmas morning before!

Later, the family from Linthwaite arrive (having helped serve Christmas dinner at the Church round the corner) and settle in, while I continue to prepare a Three Meat Feast (of Stephen?).

Which is ready fairly soon:

Bon appétit! … And let’s remember ‘Absent Friends’.

Next event:

Pressies! Which included –

Chef Grandad Christmas changed out of his pinny to be ready for the more recently established ‘tradition’ of the ‘Four Cs Christmas Tea’:

Three of the four Cs can be seen (?Ceen!) on the table, but the fourth – Crumpets – have not appeared yet (like the guests!).

The guests on Christmas Day came back on Boxing (St. Stephen’s) Day, but only after the Maryse-Coyles from Sharlston (Wakefield) had shared Stephen’s feast of Risotto Corinne. The French host within should have been pleased with the quantity leftover!

So there was a second present exchange:

After that two guests left to return to Sharlston to look after the dog. Some of the remaining party went outdoors to enjoy the fire and the flares:

Some outdoor cooking and eating had been planned, but whether that actually happened or not, your raconteur can’t recall! (Too much Limoux and Vouvray?!) Certainly, many items bought for the occasion were neither cooked nor eaten!

Nevertheless, there was plenty to eat (and drink) inside:

While outside there were carols round the fire:

Hang on! What is that grinning guitarist doing? Sat there in short sleeves and bare feet in sandals! I think he’s pouring another drink – possibly of something bubbly!

Then he moved indoors to squeeze his box!

I think the general opinion was that we’d had quite a good Feast of Stephen!

Thanks to all who contributed, particularly Sean (Jnr), who was mainly responsible for the fire, and Rachel who prepared the buffet.

The end of an era …?

Are we referring to a Duke and his driving?

No, there is a closure at the foot of this piece (don’t scroll down!), but first, after eight and a half years, it was time to ‘let Harry go’. It was obviously a bit sad to see him leave, but he’s off to new adventures, or maybe not-so-new because the person who bought him intends to live in him while house-hunting in France!

Harry waits for the new owner to come and collect him.

Harry with Franky behind and Rachel’s little Pur-Pur as well.

And then, for the New Year, ‘in with the new’, a VW camper van with 5 seats and a ‘pop-top’. He’s been named ‘Barney’ after the man I bought him off, and he takes up a lot less space on the drive!

– I can open the garage without moving the van, which is an immediate benefit, but the challenge of downsizing all the gear which came out of Harry to what will fit in Barney is almost as great as the house move, which is still ongoing. Franky is still with me, with a ‘for sale’ sign in his window, but I haven’t done any serious advertising yet. He hasn’t said much … maybe he’s sulking. Maybe the days of chatty vehicles are over ….

Between Harry’s departure and Barney’s arrival came Christmas and New Year. I think we had a really good Christmas. The family (Sharlston branch) arrived on Christmas Eve in time to decorate the tree

before the traditional pancake-fest. (Traditional? Well, it has been in our families since the late sixties, so I think that qualifies!)

Shannon’s not really that tall – she’s standing on the step-stool,

I like cooking with wine …

Suitable preparations were made for Santa Claus to visit – the essentials did indeed appear as if by magic, because I didn’t provide them!

… and on Christmas morning we all gathered in the living room at a fairly civilised 7.30 for Shannon to open the stocking’s contents.

Then they left me! Cinders in his scullery!

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No, they asked whether I would like to be left alone or whether I’d like one or more persons to stay and help. I chose the former and sent them off to their own church in Wakefield (it’s not that far away). Turkey was roasted, veg and trimmings prepared, yes, sprouts too at the last minute, none of this stewing them nonsense! and the table set festivicately:

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All in good time for everyone to have a good time!

But – what? no holly? There has to be a bit of green on the pudding ….

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(What I forgot, and no-one else noticed, is that after I’d had the garden cleared I’d planted a shrubbery down one side with a variegated holly bush at the centre!)

Then it was presents

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and on to the next event (which might become a tradition) – crumpets, cake, candles and crackers.

The next day, of course, was the Feast of Stephen (when Good King Wenceslas is supposed to have looked out) so Stephen-Keith prepared a feast, helped by Rachel.

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The family from Linthwaite had been invited to the Boxing Day Bash and Barbecue, which began with a walk to the playground just down the road, where some adults couldn’t keep off the children’s playthings.

Attempts to get the fire going on the patio were only partially successful, so we gave up on the idea that some items such as pigs in blankets might be cooked on top (there was either too much flame, or not enough!),

but folk had fun, and ate plenty.

There was another exchange of presents, some disco dancing and carols by candlelight, but the only pictures taken were videos and the screenshots I’ve made show faces which mustn’t be seen here.

Later, there was a hearty home-made cock-a-leekie soup for grown-ups, while small people chose more familiar tomato ….. what happened to Shannon’s portion will remain untold!

Family left on Thursday 27th, and after a few days on my own, I decided Cumbria was calling and found a bargain (I think) B & B for New Year’s Eve at the Scafell Hotel in Borrowdale. £75? I think that’s a bargain. I could have spent another £65 on the Gala Dinner-Dance, but I chose to eat in the adjacent bar, where I found agreeable company (from Yorkshire!) and was still able to enjoy the private fireworks display in the hotel garden after midnight.

New Year’s Day was beautifully sunny, and the only difficulty was driving into the sun for most of the day. I began with the ‘far side’ of Derwentwater, then turned south past Thirlmere to the usual spot between Grasmere and Rydal Water. No question of not going whiffling through the Tulgey Wood (OK – wandering down through Penny Rock Wood if you’re not into ‘Jabberwocky’) to spend a few moments in meditative remembrance at the lakeside. No new photos; I have so many, but these may not have been used before and are suitably seasonal:

Two days later Rachel and I took Shannon to visit Florence (Kirkby) in Newcastle. We had a nice lunch (though I say it – I prepared it the day before) and I showed F. photos of 141, my August Adventure, and our Christmas. Before we left, Shannon sang some of her Christmas concert items. Now for the sting in the tail ….

Less than a week later, we learned that Florence had died in hospital, after several falls in the last few days. I’m so glad we made that visit …

miss florence kirkby mbe

Florence Kirkby MBE 1921 – 2019

A life-long friend.

R.I.P.

Last Days at Meltham … 11 days in Harry … First Days at 141.

August 29th 2017: Franky and I take both Thompson grandchildren for a day out, heading for the Heights Of Abraham, Matlock:

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After lunch, the main attraction was the playground (as usual) – but then, I wasn’t up for anything involving walking, such as the caves.

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Then they were introduced to Punch and Judy – a new experience which they entered into with enthusiasm, as eight year olds do. Oh, yes …

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The descent in the cable car gave a good view of the canoe slalom on the Derwent, though not in use just then:

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Early September, and it was time to pack up the flat in Meltham – Chris did most of it over several days. Surprising how much I had accumulated in 21 months! – also how the big chair had deteriorated; BHF wouldn’t take it back … IMG_20170912_235449

I / we tried to leave the flat as we found it. Good enough to get the full deposit back, anyway. IMG_20170913_103544

I’d mistimed the handing in of the notice to leave the flat, being too optimistic as to when completion of the purchase of 141 Hall Cross Road might happen. Trying to save myself a month’s rent didn’t work – I had to do a double move, hiring two men and a van twice (we weren’t going to try moving a frigde-freezer down the stairs ourselves!) and paying for an 11-day stay on a caravan park. Chris gave my stuff house room – basement room, really (more stairs, though the freezer stayed in his kitchen!) and Harry, Franky and I went to a little camping / caravaning site behind this pub above Marsden: IMG_20170925_104206

It wasn’t a bad place to be!: The view on opening Harry’s door each morning: IMG_20170923_093346

During that stay, there was a visit from Carol and Judi, who enjoyed a meal at the pub, and joined Chris and me for the G & S Society’s quiz evening. The timing meant I couldn’t offer accomodation, of course, but they found a suitable ‘Airbnb’ in Meltham. (No photos of any of that?!)

September 25th 2017: Completion! Chris came with me – and Harry – to get the keys to 141 and take possession. Armed with a borrowed sledge hammer, the first job was to knock out the gatepost between the double gates and the single one, to enable me to manoeuvre Harry onto the drive.

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Later that day Rachel came over and drove me back to the Carriage House to collect Franky. A few days later Chris took this photo of the three of us (look carefully!), apparently at the rainbow’s end! Hall Cross Rainbow (1)

At first, I had only the camping furniture brought in Harry, and I slept on the inflatable matresses which had been in the guest room at Meltham. After two days the men with the van brought the things from Chris’s basement and I had a bed to sleep in, but it was another week before the big load came up from Sussex, where it had been since April. At least this gave Rachel and Sean the chance to come over and do a bit of painting to ‘refresh’ the living room before:

Tuesday 3rd October: The BIG one! Rachel took the day off to come and supervise, and we were hoping that BHF would take away quite a lot of the now ‘surplus to requirements’ furniture. That didn’t work! The driver declined to take most of it, including the big chair, which was no surprise, but we were surprised that he wouldn’t take the mattress of the bed which I’d bought from them and seemed to us to be in the same condition! It was good to see Simon again – he was one of the two who had loaded the goods at Sunejo – but Mark, who should have driven a second, smaller van up had been taken ill and to hospital! Waiting till the next day for the second load wasn’t really an option as I had an all-day hospital appointment myself (bone scan) and anyway, my bed was on the second van … so another driver was found and they arrived at 8pm.

Rachel had a plan to ensure that the living room was ‘habitable’ that evening, and that I had a bedroom to sleep in. Well, the living room looks OK …

– DSCN3934 … almost! DSCN3935

But there wasn’t going to be much use of the dining table for a day or two!

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The plan for my bedroom came good:

I was expecting the first guest within three days, so the guest room was … accessible: DSCN3943

But bedroom 3 isn’t – and won’t be for some time!: DSCN3944

Experimenting with sitting round the dining table showed that – as some had suspected – putting the sideboard (bought in Mirepoix) in the kitchen-dining room was a mistake, so next time Rachel and Chris were both here, they moved it into the living room: DSCN3951

and on Tuesday 24th October we had the first four person meal round the table*. DSCN3952 *This table has history! First, as far as I know, it was in my grandparents’ house in Sale – ‘Milton Cottage’, but no cottage in fact – a big town house, now no longer there. Then it went to my cousins’ (I think), in Wardle Road, also in Sale, and from there to my parents’ in Felsted, Essex. When Mum came to live in Cumbria, Philip and Christine gave the table houseroom, but when they left Sydenham, they no longer had room for it. I said ‘hold on to it’ and made having space for it a criterion in choosing the house in France… Those chairs have been part of my family longer than I have, too!

Rachel and Chris have been a great help in all this – Chris is here several days each week, just emptying boxes and repacking and taking away the ‘let it go’ items which I just don’t want or haven’t room for. In the middle of it all I had a urinary infection involving visits to A & E two evenings running (if you phone 111 that’s the advice you get!). Michelle took me the first time, and Rachel came the second evening; it cleared up after about three days. We haven’t touched the garage or the shed yet, nor the upstairs rooms, but it’s good to be able to scan and print documents for myself, and to relax on that sofa with its footboards – I’ve been without that for nearly two years!(The colours aren’t quite right – the walls are more pale yellow than pink!)

…. I’d better do some more washing up of the lastest ‘finds’ from the boxes …

Harry Goes To Wales

8th August Oxwich Beach (12)

Harry!

Ja?

Tell Franky about our holiday.

What? That little grey car? He will not understand. He is like Lady Lucy – he does not speak well English.

Yes, he does! He’s more English than you are. … Just a bit – Yorkshire. Franky!

Yes, Boss?

Tell Harry if you don’t understand him, OK?

Right-o, Boss.

Who is ‘Boss’?

I am – get on with it.

In Ordnung.

What’s he on about?

Harry was right -maybe I shouldn’t have started this …

So – we leave Meltham Monday 31st July. We travel well. We go through sunshine and showers and arrive at Cringoed Caravan Park (near Machinlleth) at about 4.30. We stopped for SKT to have ‘brunch’ at Birch services.

Who is SKT?

I am!

Keep yer whiskers on!

I may have raised this before – is sausage, egg, beans and chips a ‘brunch’?

That know I not.

What?

I do not know this.

I do – it aint.

Next day – Tuesday, we go into Machinlleth, where SKT hopes to find an old friend.

Yes, John Charlesworth, an artist, used to live opposite us in Bolton, but we lost touch after they moved. I found out on the web that he had a studio in Machinlleth, and so he did – but a nice lady at the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) told me he’d moved to Shrewsbury. She made a phone call to see if a colleague had a contact number, but no.

You were lucky to get this information between showers!

Yes – showers interspersed with perods of continuous rain. We drove to Aberystwyth (because it was there, I suppose!) and back to Cringoed.

Do I tell this or do you?

Sorry! – Carry on.

Wednesday 2nd August – we drive back through Mach. to Aber. where SKT has breakfast at Morrison’s, and gets cross about having paid too much for diesel fuel on the way –

I didn’t know we were going to end up at Morrison’s!

– and so on to Whitewell Holiday Park near Tenby, where are already Rachel, Sean, Becky and Shannon with the caravan. We park on the grass some way away and opposite them. Then begins the rain and the wind.

And when there was no rain and wind, there was wind and rain. On Thursday (3rd) the family go off to visit a farm / theme park and I have a lazy day, joining the family for supper when they come back.

And on Friday morning, a couple with a caravan next to the family’s – a German couple as it happens – move away and we move across to occupy that pitch. This makes movement from caravan to me much easier, and safer for Shannon who likes to come and visit quite frequently, especially first thing in the morning, but until now this has involved crossing the ‘road’ between us.

By now we have SUNSHINE! We pack picnics and beach stuff into the big car –

What big car?

Sean’s big car – the one they tow the caravan with, and we head for Coppet Hall Beach:

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(Our camp is centre left with the red shelter and the striped windbreak.)

First, dig out your pool:

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Then, make a channel and dam the stream and let the pool fill up till it overflows! Shannon is the third generation to learn this game on this same beach – though Rachel says she thinks she and Chris played it first in Devon or Cornwall.

Even I have a little swim (in the sea) and thanks to Becky for staying with me. Later Shannon and I watch the boats in Saundersfoot harbour …

… while the others go shopping and come back with fish n chips.

Back at Whitewell, some hardy folk like to sit out between the vans as it gets dark – even if it means wrapping up for warmth:

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This was a GOOD DAY … but it had unfortunate consequences ….

Saturday, 5th August: SUNSTROKE! Or if not sunstroke, sun induced migraine, but with the pain in an unusual place and a very hot forehead. When packing beach stuff into the big car, I forgot to include a hat – even though it was on my checklist –

Dumkopf!

What’s ee say?

He called me a twit.

What, like dick-‘ead?

Exactly.

Eee – I like im!

– then I sat for hours in the sun in one place on that beach. … So on Saturday the family go to visit Caldey Island (which I wasn’t plannng to do anyway) and any thoughts I had of sitting outside or doing a bit of ‘housekeeping’ are forgotten as I lie in Harry most of the day nursing me ‘ead. But it gets better enough for me to stick to the plan and prepare supper for the others ready for when they get back. (Potato Bolognaise – sounds odd, but try it sometime!)

After supper I get the guitar out and have a little singalong. Rachel said people wouldn’t gather round or stop, but I said they do in France, so why not try it and see. What was interesting was that although some folk did comment as they went by, apparently, that it was nice to hear, it was a Polish family – well, mother and daughters, dad being busy with the barbecue – who brought some drinks and sat down for a while.

Sunday is disappointing. The weather has turned nasty again, and the seafood restaurant I’d noticed on the harbour side in Saundersfoot, and invited everyone to have lunch at, proved less than wonderful. (No children’s menu, said they would do a small portion but didn’t, didn’t take cards, but didn’t tell us that when we booked, and presented a bill for six meals when we’d had only five – and one of them for a four-year-old paying full price!)

After coffee and dessert at a different establishment, two fellas return to the vans, while the three lasses go back to the beach to swim in the rain! Well, it’s all wet, I suppose…

Monday (7th) is our moving day. We had not planned to stay with the family all the time and SKT wanted to see the Gower, which before he never visited –

D’yer mean he’d never bin there before, like?

Like what?

It’s just an idiom.

That’s rude.

No, it’s not – carry on, Harry.

SKT and I are ready to leave before the Tuggers appear –

Tuggers?

It’s a nickname Motorhomers use for Caravaners.

– but they come round in time to help remove the levellers. Then we wave goodbye and leave Whitewell. SKT is hoping to find a place for breakfast along the way, but there is nowhere evident till we leave the motoroway near Swansea. So here he has an early lunch from Burger King! Soon we stop again at a big Tesco’s and he buys some cough medicine.

Yes, a harsh and painful cough has been bothering me all morning.

And then is a short drive along the Gower Peninsular to Pitton Cross, just before Rhossili.

Pitton Cross Caravan Park is well away the best site of the three we’ve been on during this trip. (Though the showers were better at Cringoed) There’s a good shop, (though no honey – they say the can’t get it, so a rum toddy for the cough has to wait) and even a sea view from our pitch, so next morning, the weather being fine and warm, it’s cooked breakfast outside: 8th August Breakfast.JPG Then we go exploring. Beach-side car parks in the Gower are motorhome friendly – no height limiters – but overnight parking is forbidden. So we start at Rhossili, which some describe as the finest beach in Britain:

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But we do not stay here – too much walk from car park to beach, down steep path. So we look at Horton:

8th August Horton Beach (1).JPG

Sehr schön. Very nice, but I do not see this as from the car park there is a view only of the dunes. SKT has a little picnic and we move on. Eventually we find Oxwich. (We twice miss the turning as the sign is completely buried in the hedge!)

But perseverance is rewarded, because Oxwich is THE ideal spot for a day at the beach with a motorhome! (In spite of the £6 access fee.)

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You’re almost on the beach, you can set up ‘camp’ or sit near your van, you can cook, picnic or barbecue, and you have your changing facilities, with a hot shower if you want it, right there. Moreover, there’s a snack bar on site and a toilet block, ‘traditional’, but clean and acceptable, if you don’t want to use your onboard facilities.

Meanwhile, the family had come down to visit the Gower Heritage Centre, only 15 minutes away, so they came to join me – only £3 for them and the big car!

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We had tea / coffee, some played on the beach and some went in the water:

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(The red dot upper centre is Rachel, and the white dot to her right is Becky’s head!)

But soon it’s time to pack up: 8th August Oxwich Beach (9a).JPG

They have a long drive back to Whitewell.

And we have a short one back to Pitton Cross, where, having found some honey at the shop in the village, SKT is able to treat his cough with his rum toddy, and for the second evening, there is a remarkable sunset:

sunset 8th Aug

Wednesday (9th August) is fine enough, but with more cloud, more wind, and much less warm. However, Oxwich is so appealing that we go back there. Here is something very British happening; folk have come to enjoy themselves, and they are determined this to do. They are … what do you say – cowarding? –

Cowering!

Ah, ja – they are cowering in their shelters and behind their windbreaks, wearing their anoraks, their fleecies, their hoodies, and that latest must-have accessory – the wetsuit. Occasionally some go down to the sea and swim a bit, but they do not stay long. SKT, he stays inside all day, watching other folk, doing his puzzles and looking at old photos on the computer, as well as taking one or two new ones:

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(Looking towards Three Cliffs Bay – accessible only on foot!)

On the way back to base, I ‘treat’ myself to a meal at the nearest pub. It’s adequate, not wonderful – not a treat!

Thursday 10th is fine and warm again, which is annoying in a way, because it is long drive home day. This weather yesterday would have been very good. We leave Pitton Cross at about 9.15 but go only a short distance to a garden centre where a cafe is doing breakfasts.

Not only doing breakfasts, but doing WELSH breakfasts, so as well as bacon, sausage, egg and mushrooms, I have lava bread and cockles! And with the best, simply made, cup of coffee just like at home – I donta wanta my ‘personal barista’ who maika me waita too long and costa megabucks. In fact, this was the best meal out of the whole trip – and the best value.

So SKT is now ready to drive home with only two more stops – one for the necessary, and one for ice cream. Parts of the journey are slow – M42, M6, Oldham – but we arrive at Helme Park at about 6.45, more or less as expected.

So, that were a good do, eh, Boss?

It were, aye. One or two disappointments like not finding John and only a couple of really fine days, but the Gower is certainly worth another visit, and there were two splendid sunsets:

Sunset 7th Aug (8)

PS: In case you hadn’t noticed (in the media) Saundersfoot beach is up for sale … quarter of a million, anyone?

A Day Out, a Barbecue and a Birthday.

Grandson S had asked for ‘a day out with Grandad’ as a treat, and June 17th (2017) was a really fine day, so we piled furniture and a picnic into Franky and set off for Derbyshire – the Peak District boundary is only just up the hill from Meltham. Down through Glossop and over the Snake Pass brought us alongside the Derwent and Ladybower reservoirs, which gave opportunity to give a little history lesson about the Dambusters, which was topical. There was a picnic site shown on the map – and signed – near the reservoir, but we couldn’t find it, so we drove on through Castleton and picnicked under Mam Tor:

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Grandson decided he wanted to see the Blue John mine and caves; I had suggested one of the caves and was thinking of Treak Cliff, but really I had forgotten what was involved. See the steps? About 220 of them! Although I did keep up with the party, using the handrail and my stick, this was not a good idea! The unrepaired hip has been extra troublesome ever since. I have an appointment to see the ‘Hippy Man’ in September.

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Father’s day, June 18th. Weather still fine and sunny, so the lunch at Oakleigh Close was a barbecue:

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Later in the afternoon, there was fun (for some) in the paddling pool. (I have doubts about this picture – it shows a bit too much of the side effects of hormone treatment!):

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Sitting like that wasn’t comfortable for long, so an alternative was found:

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Throwing water in Gaia’s (Grandad’s) face was great fun – retaliation wasn’t received with equal merriment!

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Saturday July 15th: Shannon is four years old! Our first job – mine and Franky’s –

I were wondering when I was getten a word, like. It were me as took you and that lad over tut Peak District, tha knows.

Of course we know – I said so in the first paragraph, and you’re in the photo of the picnic spot. It was a great drive – don’t get huffy. Tell us about Shannon’s birthday.

Aye, well, fust up, we had to go into Wakefield to pick up a friend –

Vik.

– and her little lass –

Rosie.

Shurrup!

Just ‘splaining.

– off the train from down south –

London.

But tha kept goin round in circles and nearly made us late.

No, I didn’t – just needed to do a bit of birthday related shopping, but getting back to the station – we were there in good time at first – was a bit tricky with the traffic lights and the one-way system. Anyway, this picture is of Rosie and Shannon the next day:

Shannon and Rosie

Aye, well, once we’d packed them in, alongside all your clutter –

What? I’d taken most of it out!

Hmmm …

That’s my line.

Once all in, we went up to that house where Big Harry is and you all disappeared round t’ back.

Where the garden was set out in full party mode:

Party Time!

In fact, it was full of children and parents – mostly mums – as well. The slide was the special parental present two years ago; this year’s was the trampoline in the background. There was a lot of feeding going on, as well as playing – then it was time for CAKE!:

Birthday Girl with Cake

Or several cakes, really, but only one big chocolatey one in the shape of a 4, with CANDLES on ….

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU …..”

Birthday Girl

The Removal from Sonnac, Part Four – The Journey Home.

This photo should have been in the last chapter. The evening meal in Mirepoix was mentioned, but the photo didn’t get inserted. Michel and Diana are sitting diagonally opposite each other; the man raising his glas is their friend, Hugh:

Harry?

Ja?

Do you want to do it?

What?

Write the diary.

Why?

Dunno – I thought you might like to.

So … Aber nein – you do it; I will just, what you say, chip in, when I will.

OK. So it’s day 16, Good Friday, 14th April, and we’re leaving Sonnac at 1.50pm.

You did not seem very sad.

No, I wasn’t. I’d been looking forward to it.

In fact, you drove along saying ‘Bye-Bye’ to everything and everywhere.

I did. ‘Bye-Bye, Camplimoux; Bye-bye, Camon,’ and even, (join in everyone!) ‘Bye-bye, La BASTIDE de BOUSignac!’ And, of course, the Hers, which, incidentally, was not much more than a lickle trickle compared with the full river of nearly two weeks ago. The ‘Piebald Pyrenees’ were different, too, with much more black showing through the snow.

Good Friday is not a public Holiday in France, so I overshot the motorway in Pamiers to go to the Orange shop –

You went to buy oranges?

No, you daft goose, Orange, capital O. I’d been told on the phone that I was NOT to leave the IT equipment in the house, but to take it (livebox and TV decoder) to an Orange shop. That took longer than you’d think! Then back round the roundabout to Intermarché’s fuel station, and so with a full tank and a seriously cluttered interior, not to mention a full garage, with the bed at its highest, we headed north, but only as far as the first aire for a quick, late lunch – just a sandwich. (It was already 3.30) Then the serious travelling began …

However, at Aire Jardin des Causses du Lot I had to stop for a rest, but in the end we did make 351 kms to arrive at the old favourite, Porte de Correze, at 8.30. Supper from a tin, and a good night’s sleep – even on a service area!

DSCN1068 (That’s a photo from a previous journey, but the location and the view are the same. I can’t imagine waking up to a view like that on a British service area, having parked overnight for free!)

Ja; sehr schön.

Day 17, Saturday 15th April. Porte de Correze doesn’t only have scenery and pleasant facilities, but it has an excellent gift shop, with lots of local produce and a wide range of possibilities for presents. Maybe that’s an advantage of not charging for parking – folk go in and spend! So I did that, and bought a croissant for breakfast as well, but drove on the 20kms (15 minutes) needed to get to that other favourite, Briance Ligoure, before enjoying it:

HarrySallyatBriance Ligoure.JPG

Hey! Why is here little Sally?

Well, if you remember the weather was poor, – cold and showery – on April 15th, so I searched for an earlier photo, and thought a reminder of the ‘old’ days might be fun.

Na, gut.

Of course, I didn’t get out to enjoy my café-croissant at a picnic table! That would have been taking nostalgia a bit too far!

I have table, where you often enjoy many things.

I know – I love it. Anyway, another short hop –

I don’t hop!

This is taking ‘chipping in’ too far! Another short drive got us to J 37, the usual fill-up point at the Centre Commercial just off the motorway. But something had changed – there had always been height limiters approaching the petrol station, and we’d always passed under them, but they used to have ‘dangly-jangly’ bits on them, which weren’t there any more, and they looked lower than before. They were signed at 3m, and Harry is 2.7, but that’s without the TV aerial. Also, there were no vehicles of similar height already on the forecourt, though it was busy. I didn’t want to risk it, but I parked up and went to do some shopping – another place undergoing major reconstruction, then I had to use the SatNav to find the next nearby fuel station, which gave me an interesting ride – not a hop! – round the outskirts of Limoges – so interesting, in fact, that Carol would have loved it when we passed one verge covered in wild orchids! (She’d have wanted me to stop dead and let her out to take photos – on a ring road!)

I’d allowed an extra day for this journey, to give time to visit Montlouis and Vouvray in the Loire valley, so somewhere between Limoges and Orléans I left the motorway –

So also did I –

WE left the motorway, and since I realised it was probably going to be too late for wine-tasting that evening, which may or may not have been a good decision, we headed for a camp site I’d found in the guide book. This was in the village, or small town, of Salbris, and we got dead lucky – a lovely little lakeside site, with a warm welcome and nice facilities, even a water tap at the pitch. (250 kms driven that day.)

It was remarkably unbusy for Easter weekend. In summer there would be a swimming pool and a bar-restaurant, but never mind, a tin of Cassoulet made a nice enough supper. (It’s a speciality from Castelnaudary, and having never tried it when living nearby, I thought I should before leaving. …. It won’t be on the ‘must have that again’ list. It consists mainly of sausage, other meat and beans.)

Day 18. Sunday 16th (Easter Day) I wasn’t in a hurry to get away that morning, so I took my time using the campsite facilities to attend to Harry’s “water” jobs, and it was 11.25 before we moved off site. Approaching from the south, it made sense to head for Montlouis first (I wish I knew how to put maps on here …). Getting to the town was no problem, but the centre stands high above the river (the Loire) where the wine centres are, and finding the way down was a nightmare! –

Yes, you drove round in the circles, no?

Well, we certainly did do one or two streets –

Very narrow streets!

– we did one or two very narrow streets more than once, but this was because of road works and closures. And if we did drive through a pedestrianised area (it certainly looked like one) it was because I couldn’t find any other way. Still, finally we did get down –

Very steeply down!

– to the riverside and on to a familiar road with a number of wine tasting / selling outlets – BUT! Big disappointment – everywhere was closed! I was assuming that there would be lots of holiday traffic to attract, but apparently not, or maybe strict Sunday laws were in force.

So we moved on to Tours, as we had to to cross the river. After a brief lunch stop – at Harry’s table – on to Vouvray, but fearing the situation would be the same as in Montlouis. But no – maybe not all, but several wine centres were open. I only needed one anyway. Why the North and South banks of the Loire were different with regard to Easter Day opening, I didn’t find out, perhaps the river is the boundary between départements or other administrative areas, but anyway, loaded with 2 six-bottle boxes of still and pétillant (bubbles!), and nowhere to put them, we headed back to Tours to join the motorway to drive north via Le Mans and Rouen.

The rest of the day’s drive was uneventful, even Rouen was free-flowing, or ‘fluide’ as it says on the signs. The season was considerably advanced from just a fortnight before; most of the white blossom was faded or had dropped, but the cowslips were even more prolific. Rape fields and sections of gorse were brilliant yellow, but green was dominant.

I know I go on a bit about it, but I am still amazed by the variety and design of the service areas and lay-bys on French motorways. Pulling in to a previously unvisited layby south of Le Mans, the Aire des Croiselles, I found we were in a sort of mini nature reserve! In fact, the construction of this section of the A28 had been delayed till 2004 because of the habitat of the protected beetle, Osmoderma Eremita, (Hermit Beetle?) Why the French call it the Pique-Prune (Plum Stabber) I can’t work out since it lives on dead wood, not plums, but this ‘rest area’ has a sector designed to provide habitat for it:

There were also: (click on the photos for titles)

a water meadow

a fragrant area for relaxation

and walls made for lizards to hide in.

However, there was still ground to cover, and we actually got as far as Baie de Somme before stopping for the night. It was 9pm and we’d done nearly 600 kms. The more scenic parking areas would have been out in the wind, and I wanted to be near the facilities, so I parked near the building, and since the restaurant was still open, I had a meal of chicken in white sauce with ratatouille and new potatoes, which was actually much nicer than it looked, having been on the counter for some time, I guess. I also used the wifi to book a ferry crossing for the next day.

Day 19. Monday 17th April Café-croissant for breakfast, and a check on the email, and, of course, a visit to the gift shop – like Porte de Correze, Baie de Somme has an irresistible selection, so a bit of shopping was unavoidable.

Since the break at Limoges, I’d been trying to exchange Harry’s spare gas bottle which was (is) empty. But I should have done it a long time ago – I’d left it too late! –

He called me the dumme Gans!

OK – chalk that one up to you. The petrol stations were all unattended (Easter Sunday / Monday) – pay by card at the pump, but no-one on hand to open the cages of gas bottles. But I didn’t give up – using satnav I found a small petrol station, open, just off the motorway in Calais, and the young man at the till was quite happy to get a bottle out for me – there were six bottles of the right type visible in the cage …. every one of them was empty! But we only found that out after I’d pulled loads of stuff out of Harry’s garage to get at the spare bottle, and spread it around his back wheel on the forecourt (the stuff, not the bottle)!! (There’s no-one to take the best photos!) I did give up! So I have no reserve gas. (The point is that the bottles in question, and the regulator that fits them, are French, or European, so to change to British ones will involve expense and leave me with two unreturnable bottles, one of them with gas in.)

Pleasant ferry crossing, and as we approached Dover (I’ve posted so many ‘White Cliffs’ photos over the years.) I texted the Offspring “The cliffs are very white, the sky is blue and white, and the sea is blue-green. The litter will be ‘orrible.”

I could leave it there, but there are two days to go before Harry gets ‘home’ (i.e. Wakefield) and I resume babysitting duties. We got to Porton Court (Surbiton) at 5pm, 269 kms driving from Baie de Somme, and a familiar yellow Corsa was guarding the most convenient visitor’s parking bay for Harry. Christine and Carol provided a nice evening meal and I found a bottle of Vouvray somewhere. (It wasn’t hard – the two boxes were – and are – still on the top step just inside Harry’s hab. door.)

Day 20. Tuesday 18th April Harry had a rest day! I spent some time choosing a few – quite a few – of Philip’s clothes to keep, before the family decide what to do with the rest, then later Carol drove us out in the yellow Corsa to Richmond Park when we had a light lunch – fine enough for al fresco. I knew nothing about Richmond Park, although it’s the largest royal park in London, about 2,500 acres and home to over 600 deer (google it for more info). From King Henry’s Mound there’s a remarkable view, with an amazing long-distance sight of St. Paul’s through a well-kept gap in the hedges, trees and buildings all the way to central London:

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(I didn’t take that – I ‘borrowed’ it from a website) I took these – the first one points away from St. Paul’s and includes (the viewpoint diagram says) Heathrow and Windsor Castle:

IMG_20170418_140941

IMG_20170418_141244

Then we went down into Kingston to do the return river trip to Richmond and back – a section of the river I hadn’t done before. This is approaching Teddington Lock:

IMG_20170418_153217

Back at Porton Court, Judi joined us, which was nice, before we went out for a very enjoyable Chinese meal. The restaurant we’d been to before was closed, so we tried a different one – I think it will stay on the list of options.

Final Day. Day 21. Wednesday 19 April Not a lot to report, really. On the road at 10 am, and took the M42, which enables a stop at Beaconsfield Services, where there’s a Weatherspoon’s for brunch, as well as avoiding any traffic problems around Watford and South Mimms. Then a bit of the A43 gets you to join the M1 at Northampton. No problems anywhere, and arrived at Oakleigh Close at 4.30. 355 kms from Porton Court.

Total round trip in these three weeks, 2336 miles – well done, Harry!

Lots of hard work, one big setback, one major job done, and some nice moments mixed in. I wish I could say ‘back to normal’, but radiotherapy starts tomorrow; return drives to Leeds (about one hour each way) every weekday for the next month …. but that’s the next story.

(Photo by Judi on a previous visit.)

THE ‘MISSING’ MONTHS AND A FLYING VISIT TO UK

Readers with an eye for detail might have noticed (but probably didn’t!) that there were almost two months unaccounted for between Harry’s return from England in March and the Dordogne holiday in May. Here are a few pictures and comments on the missing weeks.

April included a mini heatwave and brought our ancient pear tree into full bloom – we’d missed this last year as we were ‘over there’ in April.

We opened up the pool and were pleased with its general condition. With the water around 22° we got in and scrubbed the tidemark at the water line:

Then we had the year’s first barbecue:

Of course, April 8th saw the start of my 70th year. Carol made me a cake:

There was the traditional ‘Omelette de Pâques’ in the village on Easter Monday. Does Carolyn know what’s going on behind her back?

After the heatwave there were a couple of weeks of fairly persistent drizzle – quite Cumbrian! But April 25th included a fine double rainbow – impossible to get it all in one photo.

Carol decided to use this time to decorate our bedroom. The room was cleared of all except the largest pieces of furniture, and for about two weeks we slept in ‘Patience’, the first guest room.

We like the end result:

But it was nearly time for Judi’s arrival to house-sit. This lot had be removed from ‘Pirates’ so that Carol (Jnr) could use it, arriving while we were away.

Pam and Trevor have now bought a house in Arriège, about 40 minutes away, but at this time had not yet moved in. They were living in a ‘gîte’ nearby. We’d heard of an Esperanto group meeting near Pamiers and, though it wasn’t ideal timing, Trevor and I went and were glad to have done so. Pam kindly helped Carol with the bed-making here. That done, they went for a walk above the village:

After the Dordogne holiday, and just before our next escapade, Nick had a significant birthday:

He and Carolyn invited most of the village to ‘apéro’ on the square in front of ‘Maison Bleue’, and kindly – or rashly – invited me to entertain!

The next day,May 29th, we flew out of Carcassonne heading for Stansted. I really should have taken a picture of the cattle pen which passes for a ‘departure lounge’ at Carcassonne airport, and circulated it widely to illustrate the difference between the myth of Ryanair travel as portrayed by the current TV advert and the reality. It really is a dreadful experience!

At Stansted, more discomfort; we missed the chance to use the loos on the plane before the descent began, so by the time we we in the terminal this was first priority. Once up the steps – STEPS! – and into the corridor, the nearest loos were the ‘wrong’ way – against the flow (of people). Got there – the ladies was queueing, and the gents: closed! Disabled, only choice! Once in, pitch black, no light, no switch! In the end, Carol emerged from the Ladies and stood guard with the door open enough to provide a minimum of light ….

So now we were way behind everyone else, the disgorged contents of two planes. We followed signs. Down two escalators. Into an empty hall with no exit but several automatic doors, which wouldn’t open – and the escalators coming DOWN, but none going UP. There was no signage. We had NO IDEA that this was a shuttle station. I banged on several of the doors with my stick. Carol picked up the emergency phone, then lights began to flash above some of the doors, which then soon opened to give access to the shuttle.

Things did get a bit better. At the main terminal a very nice young lady listened sympathetically to tales of closed and unlit loos and claustrophobic basements with no signs, then once through passport control we set about trying to find our car hire firm. Having said ‘never again’ to Hertz after last year’s experience (you can check back if you really want to!) we’d chosen ‘Firefly’. No evidence of Firefly’s desk …. We phoned them. They’re part of Hertz!! But this worked in our favour, in the end. We asked if they could bring up our previous history and we registered ‘disappointment’ at having had no reply to our feedback; they gave us £24 worth of 2nd driver insurance for free.

We collected our Vauxhall Corsa and headed for Potters Bar where we had a nice meal with Chrys and Jan.

We had gone to England to be at the dedication service for Chris & Michelle’s children. We were saddened to have heard of the death of Martin Horton, an old friend of Carol’s, husband of Cathy. But happily, in one sense, the funeral had been planned for that Saturday, 31st May, so we were able to postpone our drive to Huddersfield in order to attend. Not only that, but Martin’s sister, Mary, wheelchair user, lives not far from Chrys and Jan, so we were able to take her as well.

During the drive north in the evening, the second driver insurance was particularly important since I was hit by the second migraine of the day (or a recurrence of the first) and couldn’t see straight!

We got lucky in Huddersfield as we needed advice to find our hotel, having no satnav or plan. We stopped beside a very helpful taxi driver who said ‘follow me’ and then stopped again a bit later to point out the road we needed.

We were also well served at the Cambridge Hotel the next morning where the receptionist not only copied two sections of town plan for us showing how to get to the (changed) venue for the service, but brought them to our room. Chris’s instructions by text hadn’t arrived at that time.

It’s difficult for us to comment on the service, especially after the sharply contrasting funeral the day before. Contrasting not only because of the nature of the event. The funeral had been High Anglican, with robed clergy, traditional church music, communion, and a Bishop to pronounce the commendation. The dedication was ‘Evengelical / Pentecostal’, casual dress, guitars and drums. Let’s say both events were found to be appropriate and meaningful to those most closely involved.

Respecting the ongoing advice not to show identifiable photos of S & N (a pity since this was ‘their’ day!) here are some of other folk:

She’s a show-stealer; can’t think where she gets it from!

After lunch at the church, a reduced party moved to 730 Manchester Road …..

CHRIS! I think Dan and Fiona gave ‘Funny Faces’ as a present to the children!

Er, yes, well …..

….it was on the chair; I just picked it up. But who took the photo? Either S or N, I can’t remember, but didn’t he/she do well?

At last Daddy (Chris) stopped playing and let his son have a go:

Rachel, Sean and Sannon left before the rest of us shared a take-away meal. Then after bedtime we got the cards out and the remaining foursome (Dan, Fiona and Luke had also left) enjoyed a rubber of bridge.

The drive south on Monday 2nd June was uneventful and we are grateful to Chrys and Jan for another evening’s hospitality and bed for the night. The Stansted experience on Tuesday morning wasn’t too bad:

– though it still doesn’t match the propaganda!

Back at home, on a hot day, we were glad of the pool to jump into!

Since then, the weather has got hotter and hotter; there’s always the threat of thunderstorms, but they haven’t materialised yet. (Do thunderstorms do that?) We’re eating our own-grown lettuce leaves, and lots of strawberries. Tomatoes are just visible. Last Thursday I took part in, and Carol attended, my first ‘Chorale’ concert. (No photos). A new style of performance for me – I’m not used to singing unaccompanied with lots of ‘doo-be-do-wah’s instead!

I think it’s time for a dip ….

FOOTNOTE:

Tuesday 3rd June, 4.30 pm:

Hallo, Lady Lucy! Wo warst du, denn? Where have you been?

A Carcassonne. A l’aéroport. THEY left me there.

THEY? I thought we weren’t to say that any more.

Don’t care! Je suis cuite.

What?

Cooked – fried – what you say? Frazzled.

But it’s not been hot till today.

Tu parles! J’en ai marre! I have had enough of HIM. And HE bashed me up in Carcassonne last week. HE backed me into a fence post. Look!

Those few scratches! That’s nothing. He practically pulled my tail light cluster right off back in Cumbria. I was stuck up with duck tape for months. He doesn’t mean to do it; he’s just a bit too hasty at times …..

Oops! Well, you’ll never get nowhere if you’re too hasty ….. I don’t suppose either of THEM would have come up with that.

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?

HARRY COMES HOME

Sunejo, Thursday, March 27th 2014, 17.23:

Hallo, Lady Lucy!

Bonjour, Milord. How are you?

Ich bin müde, tired – fatigué.

Ah – you have voyaged, er – travelled much?

1,000 miles in four days!

Miles?

Er, 1,600 kilometres.

Oh, là! Racontez!

OK; Monday morning, we went into Wakefield to pick up HIS brother. –

Excusez-moi – whose brother?

HIS – M’sieur’s.

M’sieur S’s? Why you call HIM?

I’ve always called HIM ‘HIM’.

Well stop it, c’est peu gentil; how you say, not nice.

(Bossy as well as posh!) OK – I’ll use his initials; he likes that. We went to pick up SKT’s brother outside the hotel where he’d been staying, then we headed for the A1 –

L’autoroute?

Mmm, no – in England ‘Autoroutes’ are ‘Motorways’, so they are M1, M2 etc. ‘A’ roads are main roads, like your Routes Nationales. So we made for the A1 because the M1 is covered with road works – ‘travaux’ – and slow moving traffic. On the way south, they filled up with turkey salad (which Florence had insisted they should take with them after providing lunch on Friday) and SKT filled me up with diesel at Tesco’s near Welwyn.

(I didn’t ‘fill up’ actually; I tried to judge how much we needed to get to Calais.)

The M25 was free-flowing (‘fluide’ en français) so the journey round London to Surbiton didn’t take too long and at Porton Court Philip’s car had been placed on the visitor’s space near the gate to ‘keep’ it for me:

You can’t see it clearly, but that’s the first picture of my new skylight! (The big one above the hab. door.)

Once again the Thompsons resident at Porton Court knew how to give us a good end-of-stay – remember the trip on the river last time? A table had been booked at ‘The Grove’ and the meal was delicious, and British! The only drawback was that someone assured us it was only a short walk from Porton Court*; BOTH my hips objected to that! Yes, the left one has started playing up as well!

*Try saying “a short walk from Porton Court” out loud; then say it several times in front of a mirror – and try not to laugh!

But, SKT, you’ve driven me for most of 5,000 kms without once moving your leg by hand, so your right hip is better, isn’t it?

Yes, it is; but the consultant said to avoid long walks. But let’s not go on about whether or not the walk was long or short, the meal was excellent, and I didn’t ask anyone to fetch a car to go backwards after.

Hein? Il est fou, ce M’sieur S.!

That wasn’t me – it was the computer, it skipped…… ‘to go back afterwards’.

Tuesday 25th March: On the road at about 9.15 and a fairly easy run to Dover, with one stop, and switching over to the M2 / A2 to drop directly onto the harbour and avoid the slow finish through Dover town. Easy check-in and on to a very lightly-loaded car deck. I understand they had a final taste of English food on board – Cumberland Sausage and Cornish Pasty were mentioned – so at Calais it was a quick exit onto the ‘autoroute’, but we pulled off at J 31 to fill up with diesel – SKT had judged very well how much to put in at Welwyn, as we were nearly empty! I met a ‘friend’ on the car park when SKT went into the Hypermarché:

We were there first – the other driver must have thought ‘If they can take four spaces, so can we!’ We stopped twice more on the way to Rouen, once at an ‘aire’ with a viewpoint over the Channel. –

LA MANCHE!

If you like:

But it was cold:

and the sculpture and display were all about wind, different names for winds and the noises they make:

And the other stop was at the old favourite, Baie de Somme – cold, wet and windy, but good shopping and nice coffee and cookies! We found the good way round Rouen – under the white cliffs – and so got to Ymare, where Daniel lives, soon after 7pm. Daniel provided me with electricity and THEM – sorry! SK & CLT – with a nice meal. The electricity was important because of the food in my fridge and because it froze during the night.

The food froze?

No! Not the food! the weather, le temps, la température.

Oh, pardon, je comprends maintenant.

Wednesday 26th March. Daniel had to leave for work before SK & CLT were ready, but that was OK as he had placed his car in front of me, so as to leave first. We left at 10 o’clock and stopped for elevenses –

For what?

Zweites Frühstück.

This doesn’t help.

Well, it’s very English, really; it’s a cup of tea or coffee or something that they drink halfway between breakfast and lunch.

C’est bizarre, ça! Elevenses ……

Well, anyway, they stopped for coffee and pastries –

Ah! Café et viennoiseries! You should have said.

They stopped at the aire just beyond St Rémy, then an hour or so later, after joining the motorway north of Orléans, they had lunch at the Aire du Héron Cendré:

You see this sculpture as you pull in; SKT had to get out and have a fit of silliness. At Boismandé we found an adequate motorhome service point and let the grey water go, and we turned off the motorway at J31, just south of Limoges to fill up with diesel. Soon after that we were at Aire Porte de Corrèze and parked up for the night. SKT warmed up the Irish Stew kept in my ice-box since the visit to Florence (but taken out to thaw earlier in the day). Then he indulged in another fit of silliness – bananes flambées.

Why was this silliness, as you call?

Mensch! You didn’t see where the flames went!

(Fortunately, neither did Carol!)

We had driven 500 kms that day and were glad of a quiet night.

Thursday 27th March

This is not a bad view to wake up to – many a hotel guest has a less good one, or none at all!

After breakfast (café-criossant), we decided to take the scenic route to the building, to use the facilities and browse the shop. Down past the little lake:

Alongside the copse with the wood anemones in flower:

Over the little bridge: And up the steps.

One or two legs protested about this and to return to Harry we took the more direct, level route (round the car park).

So on the road again – at 11.15! But only 350 kms to go so the late start didn’t matter much. Elevenses at Aire Jardin des Causses du Lot, even after 12 o’clock, and lunch at about 1.30. The first view of the Pyrenées was welcome but difficult to photograph as the white of the mountain-tops merged with the pale grey of the sky:

A stop in Mirepoix for a bit of shopping and here we are.

……..

We are indeed – well done, Harry! A round trip of 5331 kms (3331 miles), of which 3147 kms (1966 miles) within England. That’s quite a lot of zig-zagging up and down the country! Sunejo was cold as we’d left the heat on anti-frost only, so we were very grateful to get a call from Nick and Carolyn Chez Maison Bleue with an invitation to supper. When we got back the house was noticeably warmer.

Two days later, while Carol was trying to deal with the 35-50 molehills which need to be removed before I can cut the grass, which in any case is too soggy to run the ‘tracteur’ over, we had another invitation, this one from Pam and Trevor who have found a property and signed the ‘Compromis de Vente’. So we went to their temporary home – the Gîte at Limbrassac – and enjoyed a scenic drive to view their home-to-be from the outside, followed by a lovely meal at the Gîte. Now we’ve lost another hour with the arrival of ‘summer’ time! That’s two ‘missing’ hours in one week! How time flies!

SHANNON VICTORIA MARYSE-COYLE. DEDICATION 23RD MARCH 2014

It’s difficult to know how to write this up – I think I’ll just put up the best of our pictures with the briefest of comments.

Godmother-to-be Cathy ‘Bird’ arrives at Oakleigh Close and takes charge of the baby, all dressed up and ready to go:

At Destiny Church, Wakefield, prayers are offered for the family and supporting friends (Godmothers) Vik and Cathy:

[Before this, there had been an outstanding moment when Shannon joined in the applause for herself! Unfortunately, neither Carol nor I managed to capture this in a photo! If anybody did, PLEASE sen a copy!}

The opportunity was taken to formalise the Godmother – Goddaughter relationship between Rachel and Scout (Vik’s daughter), seated: the pastor charges Rachel to do all those things for Scout, that he’d just charged Vik and Cathy to do For Shannon!

Rosie gets stuck into the refreshments!

Or not, in fact – not really sure what’s happening there!

At the pub, Shannon gets served early. Lucky little lady – others had to wait a while ….

Megan is a little over-faced by the size of her meal!

Grandad is happy with a sherry:

Later the Baby gets passed around:

To Paul:

To Megan:

And finally, back to Mummy:

Harry to Lucy (2). S.K.T. fills in the details.

Liebe Lucy / Milady,

I continue to TRAVEL (not voyage!) a lot! And I have met people I also have not seen before, but first we went to Newcastle to visit Florence Kirkby, whom I have seen previously. THEY had lunch with her, which HE had cooked the night before and taken up the A1 (that’s a road) in a pot in my sink!

Then we went even further north and made our way to The Lee, near Longframlington, where lives an old friend of M’sieur S’s (as you name him). Steve and Louise Bray have this house at the top of a hill – some challenging bits on the way there! – with wonderful views to the front:

and behind:

[Steve was Head of Music at Boothville Middle School, Northampton, when I was Head of French there; we became good friends and have kept in touch over the 32 years since I left Boothville and the 29 years since I left Northampton.]

Steve and Louise had prepared a room for us (although we had said we would sleep in Harry), which was very kind and welcome as it was a cold night. But electricity was provided so Harry didn’t freeze (schön!), and that evening they took us down to Morpeth for a super supper at an Italian restaurant – NOT a mistaika to maika! Back at the house on the hill we showed photos and indulged in reminiscing till around midnight.

Goodnight, then. ….

Saturday 22nd March: HE had full English breakfast, SHE had café-croissant. Then I took them all out for the day.

(Not the cat!) We drove to Alnwick where I got left in a car park for a few hours – M’sieur S can tell you what THEY did – then later we went back over the hills to this place:

where THEY had a drink and admired the views. We took the friends back to The Lee, going through Rothbury on the way:

We could see The Lee across the valley some time before we got there:

Then I had to drive through this shallow ford and up a very steep, bendy hill to get to the houses:

We said goodbye (Au revoir) to the friends straightaway and drove back to Wakefield, with several stops on the way, including a sandwich-stop for THEM at Leeming Bar. Es war ein schöner Tag! – Une journée magnifique.

Danke, Harry; I’ll fill in some details. At Alnwick we visited the Castle Gardens. As we went in we noticed the tree house, which has a restaurant inside, and thought we would have lunch there:

However, we were disappointed to find it was fully booked for the day!

An outstanding feature of the gardens is the cascade and fountains:

We walked up beside the pool and through the arch at the top. On the way down we stopped to admire the garden’s oldest tree:

In the end we had lunch at the ‘Pavillion’, and it was very nice, but lacked the atmosphere of the tree house. We tried to get a view of the castle, but couldn’t really get to a good spot because this section of the garden was closed till next week:

We made our way back to Harry after a visit to the gift shop:

and got a better view of the castle (used as Hogwarts in the Harry Potter films) from the road as we drove round the town:

To travel in Harry, the ladies sat at the table, with Steve in the passenger seat:

After leaving Steve & Louise at their home, there was a pleasant farewell to this area as we crossed the river (The Coquet) in the evening light:

Harry had a ‘day off’ on Sunday 23rd March, which was a very special day and deserves a diary entry all of its own. Watch this space.

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:

HARRY’S BACK! (ON THE ROAD)

What happened to February? Not a lot, really. The weather remained very variable with only occasional days suitable for eating outdoors and although the grass is growing, there was no chance to cut it as the garden is more like a marsh than a lawn; final (we hope) visits were paid to hip and nose consultants and Carol continued to feed the hens at the Maison Bleue. Late in the month Pam and Trevor arrived to start house hunting and we we able to offer them breakfast on their first morning and next day we enjoyed lunch at the Gite they are renting for the next few months. Then Nick and Carolyn returned after their three and a half month absence and we prepared a meal for their first evening after travelling – and handed over responsibility for the hens. Oh, and Carol fell off her bike! It didn’t seem too serious at first, but after a week of ribs getting worse rather than better we went to see the doctor. As expected, he diagnosed bruised or maybe even cracked ribs for which there is no treatment other than time. We hoped the discomfort wouldn’t affect travelling and subsequent activities too much. Here’s Harry:

Ja, hallo! I’ve been stood outside ‘Sunejo’ for a long time now, doing nothing except one trip to Carcassonne, and trying to set up a relationship with Lady Lucy, that new car, but she doesn’t say much, so I just watch traffic. However, things began to happen mid-month; I got taken to the big supermarket at Laroque D’Holmes and filled up with diesel. HE checked oil and tyres and topped up the screen wash; then on Thursday Feb 20th SHE made up the bed and HE re-organised my garage. That day was quite fine and I think THEY had lunch on the terrace. There was a bit of a sunset, but nothing special:

Not like this one from earlier in the month:

More STUFF was brought out on Friday morning, when the weather had turned grey and drizzly, with a north wind which was stinging and cold, and finally, at about 12.30, which is late even for THEM, we got on the road, leaving Sunejo in the care of Lady Lucy; – and Nick and Carolyn.

Why ‘Lady’ Lucy?

Because she’s posh and doesn’t talk to me – not like Sally, who was cheeky but fun.

Hmmm ….

There were no snow-capped Pyrenees in sight to wave to or photograph – it was probably actually snowing up there – and the first stop was the Motorhome place in Pamiers; when Carol pulled the bike cover out of the shed THEY found the mice had nibbled it – one tear just got worse even before we’d gone very far, so we made a little detour to get a new one. After that, and a lunch break at the first toll station, it was brm-brm to the ‘usual’ service area just south of Limoges, arriving about 8.30 and THEY had a pre-cooked meal of duck legs in orange sauce. We did stop once on the way and a robin was perched in the bushes, watching the car park:

Another late start on Saturday, and a long pause at J.37, not just for fuel, but for HER to buy some trainers, then onwards through the rain and the wind. No photos – the weather wasn’t helpful and THEY’ve photo’d most of the rivers and so on before. Finding the preferred route through Rouen without either going through the city centre, or following the long signed detour to the west, was a relief, so we parked at Bosc Mesnil services at about 7.45. not a favourite area, but it’s there in the right place.

Next morning THEY heard the shipping forecast; warnings of gales in all areas except Dover, Wight and Portland! Phew! We paused at Baie de Somme, as usual, and took the opportunity to charge the computer while checking e-mails. THEY let me get very short of fuel, but got to the supermarket near J. 31 just in time (not the same motorway as J. 37 near Limoges!) At Calais THEY had a quick lunch on the quayside and then we boarded the ferry. I was parked right at the front in the open air, which was good for a quick exit at Dover, but I got several showerings of salty water from the waves during the crossing. Could have done without that!

What is it about coffee these days? Even on the ferry that big firm with the high cost a coffee has taken over! I never know what to ask for, and none of it is worth the price. I asked for a small latte – it was huge; I got Carol an espresso – it was about a thimble-full! I should have settled for the Cognac on its own!

The choppiness of the crossing – the least smooth we’ve had for some time, but it wasn’t a problem – is best seen on this picture of the waves as we came in to Dover harbour:

After Dover we made good progress to the M25 and stopped at the services after the Dartford crossing.

We do like French food, but Steak and Ale Pie and Fish n Chips went down very well!

At least you two weren’t running on empty!

Nor were you!

Nearly ….. After that, we went on to the Caravan Club site at Welwyn Garden City, arriving just in time for the (theoretical) deadline of 8pm.

Monday 24th Feb: Water jobs in the morning before getting on the road and taking a wrong turning, so getting to the M1 by a cross-country route took longer than it should have, then the journey North was very slow, with long sections of road works and 50mph speed limits. But we got to Huddersfield in time for THEM to enjoy a meal with the family at their new home in Linthwaite. Later, we moved to the Manse in Golcar so that I could be parked round the back and get electricity from the garage.

The removal from Golgar to Linthwaite – across the valley – was ongoing. Most of the big furniture had already been moved, but there was a lot of packing and transporting still to do. For the next two days it seemed best that we could help by taking the Grandchildren, S & N, out for the day. Meals in Harry were a treat and on day 1 we visited Castle Hill:

An impressive site with lots of space and splendid views:

Any doubts about the efficacy of the treatment to my hip should have been dispelled when I dealt with these steps:

and that after driving Harry for most of four days without once needing to lift my right leg manually to get it to move from the gas to the brake (which I was doing before!). I even did some running around one day, chasing the children round the Chapel car park for a few minutes. So it is obviously greatly improved, but some days it feels ‘heavy’ and a bit sore, so it’s not perfect! And in any case, the consultant says I should still avoid long walks, which is a bit of a pity.

We called at the garden centre on the way back, where N showed promise, again, as a photographer; how’s this for a four year old? –

Not the fish! – the age of the child who took the photo!

Day 2 found us at Greenhead Park, a huge area with many attractions, of which the tower with its rope walk approach and slide off was the favourite:

On Thursday (27th) Carol, Chris and I (and Harry) had a complete change of scene and activity. Before leaving home we’d heard the sad news that my Cousin Norman had died, aged 92. Norman and Marjorie had been part of my life forever and were regular visitors to various homes, including Garth View. So I was pleased to be nearby at the time of the funeral, which was in Leeds. The ceremony was wonderfully presented by the family themselves, with moving tributes from Chris (Norman’s son) and Paul (Grandson) and Louise (Granddaughter) while Martin (Grandson) introduced and led the service. It was good to see the family again, together with David (Sparkes) and Dottie, and we enjoyed tea and cake at Dyneley House where Norman lived for the last six years.

The next days – right through to Sunday morning – were spent clearing and cleaning the Manse and ferrying everything to Linthwaite. Harry was very useful –

Ho! Danke schön.

Non – c’est nous! You are French again, you know.

Wirklich? Ich hatte vergessen ….

Very useful, carrying stuff from one house to the other, some of which was too big to go into Chris & Michelle’s little car.

That’s Harry outside the new home – the one with the fence. From the back of the house, which can be accessed down this ginnel:

[A bit of architectural history; these terraces were originally back to back houses. Built on a steep hill the back house, with no road access, comprised the lower ground floor and the back part of the ground floor; the front house, opening on to the road, had the front of the ground floor and the whole of the first floor. Most of them have now been combined into single houses, but nos. 726 and 732 are still separate homes, hence the arrow to 726 above the ginnel, seen on the photo.]

….. there’s a splendid view across the valley to Golgar, seen both from the house’s windows and the little garden, from where the ground drops steeply to the river and the canal:

The large, many-windowed building in the centre of the photo is Golgar Baptist Chapel, with the Manse hidden behind it:

Carol worked stoically on the cleaning (she’s come away with a nasty cough, but the ribs seem better!) and the job was finally completed (I think) at about midday on Sunday, when Harry and the little Jazz took the final items, including the vacuum cleaners, round (not ‘across’!) to Linthwaite, after the family had taken a last look through the Manse to say goodbye to it, quite a ‘wrench’ for all of them, but we wish them well and feel they’ll soon settle into the new home.

We unloaded those final items then left for a special Pub Lunch at the Bulls Head (further up the hill!)

After that we said goodbye on the carpark and followed ‘Snooper’s directions to join the M1 near Sheffield. Harry?

That was dreadful! Not so much the cross-country route to the motorway, but the weather, the traffic and the road works from then on. We had plenty of time – in theory – to get to Welwyn, but once again we arrived on the last minute.

Next morning – here’s a surprise – we were up at 6.30 and road ready, without breakfast, but having done water jobs, soon after 8.30. The reason was that we both had appointments at Specsavers in Welwyn with Carol first at 9. (We’ve been told that even if we have to pay everything, specs are still less expensive in the UK than in France.) We both need new ones and we expect them to be ready on our next return from Yorkshire in a few weeks’ time.

After that, we had time on our hands and looked for a full English breakfast. First we tried Tesco’s but we were disappointed as the café was one of those pretentious coffee places where the choice bewilders me and none of it is what I want. But we did some shopping and meanwhile Harry got a complete hand wash (for £20!) and he now looks brighter and whiter than since he joined us in 2010!

Ja! Wunderschön! Merveilleux! Brilbrile!

Coo – Esperanto as well! He must be happy. We went on to South Mimms where we did get that breakfast. Yummies!

Was ist denn dass? What sort of language is that?

Me-talk. We still had time to spare, so we sat over coffee (in Harry) and did a puzzle. Then we came on to Chrys and Jan’s in Potters Bar. We had a lovely roast chicken dinner and today, apart from Carol getting her hair cut, we’ve just ‘chilled out’.

Here are some pictures to finish:

N looks out on the view after scrambled egg in Harry at the foot of Castle Hill:

Grandad doing what Grandads do:

And two key players in the narrative; Carol and Harry:

‘Key player’? Schlüsselspieler? Clé joueur? I don’t get it ……

SUNEJO CHRISTMAS

There’ll never be another Christmas like it! Because although Christmas does come once a year, Baby’s first Christmas comes once and once only, and we’ve been very privileged to have been part of it. Thanks to Sean, Rachel, Megan and Becky for travelling all this way to be with us – we think it wasn’t easy!

What follows is a few (?!) of the photos taken by anyone with a camera, accompanied by, I hope, the briefest of comments – if I can stop myself ‘going on’! (and on …)

First meal together, and a new game is invented; Grandad and Shannon play ‘Boum! Boum!’ Everybody gets the giggles!

The game involves taking the wrapper from the baguette, making a ‘truncheon’ of it and batting the side of the high chair with it saying “Boum! Boum!”. And if once or twice Baby’s head or cheek, got in the way, well, ….

We played it many times, in fact a wrapper had to be preserved for the purpose, and it always got a smile and frequently a laugh.

The SKT tradition of the Christmas Eve pancake-fest at tea time was respected and seemed to be well received. No-one photoed it, though. I suppose they were too busy eating and I was too busy tossing ……

In France le Père Noël looks for slippers under the Christmas tree; we compromised with a couple of slipper-socks, but they worked!

Contrary to every forecast we had seen, Christmas day was sunny and warm. Some spent much of the morning on the terrace, where we also enjoyed the pre-lunch blanquette / apéro.As for Christmas lunch, I’ve never been better pleased with my efforts at turkey roasting. Using a French recipe which I’ve had for years but never used before, with chestnut stuffing (French) one end and sage and onion (English) the other, slow roasted on the rack over a good quantity of stock and well basted with butter, it came out looking good, and was moist and easy to carve:

Carol’s Christmas pudding got flambé-d, of course:

Presents were exchanged after lunch, and as anyone with experience would expect, Shannon’s interest was greater in crinkly wrappings than in the content of parcels. What we didn’t anticipate was that an empty green cracker would become a favourite for the rest of the week! Ignoring a whole chain of teething rings, she kept licking it! Well, no harm in an early start in eating your greens …

Christmas Day tea was fairly traditional (English) with cake and candlelight. Rachel took some lovely pictures:

Megan and Becky, Sean’s older daughters, are both very good at entertaining Baby when needed:

Boxing Day brought the expected rain, but we ventured forth to see Carcassonne:

OK, bin there, done that. Did anyone buy a T-shirt?

We’d been watching the weather situation very carefully in order to try to choose the best day to visit Andorra. We did well. Fresh snow had fallen up there while it was raining here and in Carcassonne, but Friday was superbly blue and sunny. Rachel chose to stay at ‘home’ with baby, which was disappointing but probably sensible.

The rest of us piled into the big, black hired car – yes, GPT & Family, the same one you had! – and climbed up to the big snow:

The ski slopes were very busy

and after lunch – and the first bit of shopping – we found a lay-by where some silly play was possible:

Then, drive on for a cable car ride:

and at the top, where in summer there’s a golf course and mountain biking, skiing and snow boarding were in progress, although it was late in the day now:

In the last of the daylight, another shop-stop:

Mean while, back at the ranch, Rachel took Shannon in the buggy down to the river:Compare and contrast the next photo with the first one in the last posting – taken from the same spot!

Saturday was wet n orrible, but no matter; we had boyle deggs for breakfast – from our hens (sorry! Nick and Carolyn’s hens) – croque-monsieur for lunch and parmentier de dinde (left-over turkey made into a cottage pie – turkey farmers pie? Matthews’Pie? – bootiful!) for dinner. We even introduced the family to Cluedo – to help the Coyles unwind ….. No photo.

And so to Carcassonne airport on Sunday (in two cars), where we had lunch in the restaurant, and thanks to a friendly waiter who is good at this, we have an excellent photo of (nearly) all of us:

He did take another with Baby in, but it’s not such a good photo, and anyway, Shannon’s asleep; so here’s a Festive Farewell from a wide-awake Christmas Baby:

and Bye-Bye from Baby in a big hat:

And an Au Revoir from Shannon:

And its “Boum! Boum!” from her:

And it’s “Boum! Boum!” from me – Boum! Boum!

November ….. December ……

November continued to be cold, windy and wet. The river Hers overtopped the little bridge for the second time this year, though locals say it hasn’t done so for the last thirty years!Halfway through the month we even had a couple of days of snow. This didn’t stop the hens from laying, however!Recovery from the surgery on the nose seemed to take longer than expected, but breathing does seem to be getting easier and there’s no sore throat most mornings. However, the surgeon isn’t ready to sign me off and feels a bit more radio / laser treatment may still be helpful. That would be under local anesthetic.

After that grim November, December, by contrast, has until now been beautiful with blue skies and warm sunshine after frosty nights. Unfortunately this is due to break on Christmas day! We combined one of our visits to the clinic at Colombiers with taking Harry to the Motorhome centre at Narbonne where, FINALLY!, he got his new skylight! Hurrah! While waiting for the job to be finished wo took the opportunity to go down to Narbonne Plage in the last of the daylight:

Not the best photo ever! The sculpure represents a wave and the old man was caught by surprise with his leg hurting! That’s another issue due to be resolved, or at least treated, by injection, in January; it’s been a long wait!

Lucy has to have jobs done in the other direction, but the drive to Foix is very pleasant, and on the last occasion we went into the town for the first time and found a shop specialising in British goods and produce; there will be pudding on Christmas day! Foix is dominated by it’s castle, but we haven’t visited it yet:

There was another fish & chip night at the Mad Hatter in Mirepoix on the 13th. In response to an invitation on their website, I offered to add some Christmas music – in several languages – to the evening. It seemed to go well and be well received: DSCF1844 Most of the music was to the guitar, but I did play the melodeon in public for the first time as well.

A lot of time has been spent – mainly by Carol – getting the attic room above the garage ready for use as a bedroom. Sorting out this lot was just part of it!: DSCN0862 So today – 22nd Dec. – the family arrived at Carcassonne airport, to be greeted by bright sunshine and snow on the mountains, oh – and me with the big, black hired Nissan Qashkai. Big? Not really big enough for five folk, plus baby and luggage. The journey home was not really comfortable, though some slept through it and we arrived safely. We’re looking forward to a Happy Christmas; more of that next time …… DSCF1862

left to right: Megan, Becky, Sean, Shannon.

We leave Sally in Lincoln and head for home, via Potters Bar, Surbiton and Rouen.

Here are the two missing photos from the last entry. First, Carol and Rachel in the garden with Baby and the jealous cat:Then Mother and Baby:So, wo ist meine Freundin?
Ah, where’s your little friend, yes ….. First things first – lets write about you. We got on the road in good time on Friday morning, 23rd, and made good progress to Hitchin, only to discover within minutes that the replacement skylight they had for us was the WRONG ONE! Much too big. Nothing for it but to ask them to check and strengthen the temporary repair and hope to get home with that. We did some shopping and went on to Welwyn.

So, wo ist die Sally?

I’m coming to that! It rained quite a lot overnight Friday- Saturday, and was still drizzling a bit when we got up early and hooked up the vehicles. Carol put her anorak on and was stung on the neck by a wasp lurking inside the hood! This is bad news – she’s allergic to wasp stings! I treated her with anthisan, solpadeine and piriteze, so that by the time we got to where we were going, near Lincoln, she was more or less blotto! Still, the nice lady made us a coffee and the rain had stopped. There was a new motorhome for Sally to travel with and, believe it or not, a dog called Harry! A very friendly dog who wanted us to play ball with him. The ball was a squeaky ball, and the lady explained that the dog was blind!

But to serious business; husband being away a male friend had been drafted in to check the car out. He and the lady took Sally for a run. We played ball with Harry – not you!

I don’t play ball.

No, you don’t, do you? Man, lady and Car returned. Lady always wanted a red car! Deal done. Money handed over in brown envelope. Stephen, Carol and Harry, the Motorhome, left. Sally stayed with the Lady and Harry, the blind dog.

So, die Sally ist nicht mehr bei uns?

You catch on quick, Harry! No, she’s not with us anymore.

That’s a bit sad!

It’s a lot sad, but there we are.

We stopped for lunch in a layby, and drove off without securing the thermos ….. it rolled and smashed!

It was a long day. Bad weather, the wasp, the flask, and much more driving than I had realised. Not to mention the other matter. We were very grateful for a nice meal and a bed in Potters Bar.

Next day was a short run round the M25 to Surbiton, where family gathered for ‘apéro’ at Porton Court and then for dinner at Café Rouge:A good time – and a good meal – was had by all, then there was more drinking, photos and music back at Porton Court.

A DAY ON THE RIVER : With his birthday coming up later in the week, Philip and Christine had decided to invite us and other friends, Fiona, Max and Dominic for a day out on the Thames, followed by dinner (our invitation) at Harts, the riverside pub. With excellent weather throughout, this day was a delight, and choosing just a few photos is very difficult. I shall share many others on SkyDrive, unless someone suggests a better hosting site.

Taken by one of the lock keepers, this photo shows the whole party:

I have to confess that previously I didn’t know there were locks on this section of the Thames, but we went through three, both up and down. Sometimes we were first in:

At other times there was congestion:

We picnicked regally with contributions from everyone, and a (more than) ample supply of wines and cider!Throughout the day, our mascot, Max’s (nameless) parrot, drew amused / admiring glances from other boats and folk on the banks:As we got near Surbiton on the return leg, a birthday cake was produced from somewhere, and Philip did the biz with the knife while we sang Hippo Birdie for him. (Actually, after the wine and cider, I’m not sure what we sang!)

At Harts, the boatyard with the pub, some of us disembarked and others went back to the point of hire to return the boat and transfer all the stuff to the cars. Once reassembled the party enjoyed a meal overlooking the river:

And although Fiona, Max and Judi left us after that, the rest repaired to Porton Court for some more chat and music – maybe a nightcap, too. What a great day! Thank you.

Next morning, there was a mist over the river:

and even a hint of fog, but it soon cleared and we made good progress to Dover. Another smooth crossing, and so to visit Daniel (French colleague and friend, not Carol’s son) at Ymare, near Rouen. We enjoyed a meal of salade de tomates – homegrown by Daniel’s Mother, who was there with him, nursing a broken wrist – and roast chicken. We showed photos of grandchildren and Sunejo and retired to Harry for the night, parked on Daniel’s drive.

The rest of the journey home was uneventful. We know the route now and the weather was fine, getting steadily hotter as we came south. We spent the second night parked in the same space at Porte de Corrèze as on the way north almost a month ago. We ate paupiette de saumon (stuffed salmon fillets) provided by Carrefour supermarket and fresh blackberries picked from the hedgrow beside Harry!

As in England, late summer is not the most attractive of seasons; autumn has yet to enliven the tired green of the trees,

and harvested fields are dull brown where once they were golden; maize fields are brown-topped, and heavy-headed sunflowers droop in the heat, as if waiting for the chop which can’t be long in coming now.

We stopped at a motorhome dealer’s in Pamiers and ordered a replacement skylight for Harry, and shopped in Mirepoix. And so to Sunejo, nicely cared for by Nick & Carolyn for almost a whole month, and with hedge trimmed and grass cut by Ian, whom we had employed to attend to such things.

1,145 kms (716miles) from Surbiton and a round trip of 4,191kms (2,619miles). Plus additional miles in Sally. We’re sorry to have parted from our cheeky little friend, but plans are in hand for a replacement – a sort of big sister, but more of that next time. Thanks again for hospitality and friendship; we’ve had a great month. And thanks for reading all about it – if you have!

THE SHARLSTON DAYS

Moi, I took the baby to go shopping! Mummy came too, of course, and there were a couple of other people as well, but we wont talk about THEM. Baby was very good all the time and sat quietly or sleeping in her little seat. When we got back, M’sieur took some photos including, HE thinks, the first one of Shannon smiling:

M’sieur likes to be called ‘Grandad’ now, but I will still call him M’sieur as long as I’m around to call him anything.
Well, please yourself. Cats are fascinating. Rachel has two, and this one (below) has always been timid and inclined to avoid company; but recently he’s become more interested in being stroked and in sitting on a lap. But the other day he quite deliberately came and placed himself in the ‘baby’ position, wanting to be ‘nursed’ over my left shoulder. Is that new baby jealousy, or what?! DSCN0676 Carol is brilliant with Shannon, as she is with the toddlers at Golcar. Yesterday Rachel was resting and we were on baby-watch. Shannon couldn’t settle and was troubled with quite violent hiccoughs. I had a go at cuddling, rocking, rubbing and patting (substitute baby for cat in the previous photo!) but no help at all. Carol took over and within 5 minutes the hiccoughs had stopped and Baby was asleep! (Apologies to the readers of this diary who’ve already seen that anecdote and photo on Facebook.) DSCN0677 Of course, it’s perfectly possible that Grandad had done all the work and Carol just happened to be holding Shannon as she fell asleep, but I’m happy to give credit where I think it’s due. She’s not bad with Harry, either! (Carol, that is, not Shannon!) She’s been up on his roof again, strengthening the temporary repair with the Duct Tape (Duck Tape?) we bought during the shopping trip which apparently we musn’t say we took part in, and cleaning the whole area. Danke schön! That was kind. You don’t deserve it, you big, time-wasting, money-eating, trouble maker. Meanwhile, M’sieur tried to hide a scratch on my driver’s door (for some reason) with some touch-up paint. HE probably made it worse, the bodger. Sally, is there anyone you’re going to be nice to? I like the Baby – she smiled at me. She didn’t smile at you, she smiled at me! Tu parles! That is your opinion. Another day I took Baby and Mummy (and maybe some other people) to the garden centre where they had lunch. I believe the Baby was very good and quiet all the time. I doubt if HE was, or HER. No comment. Back home after lunch the weather was good enough for a little outdoor relaxation, with the jealous cat (Jasper) keeping watch: * Careful readers with memory will remember that I said there would be a picture of Mother and Baby this week, as last week’s was not good enough. Here it is: *

[ * I’ve tried to add these two photos in four different locations now, but they just won’t appear. Probably something to do with the strength of the wi-fi signal. I’ll put them at the top of the next post, if I can.] We’ve had another wonderful week and we hope we’ve been useful. Now we must head south (Fri 23rd Aug), hoping to get a new skylight for Harry, and to see what happens tomorrow when we take Mademoiselle to someone who might like to look after her.

There is no need to write in code! I know what you’re doing. …….

Golcar to Sharlston, with complications!

Let’s begin this post with thanks to Chris & Michelle for their hospitality last week. We remember the regal roast beef, the stunning stir-fry, the licious chicken pie, the succulent salmon and the chumptious chilli. Then, of course there was the brilliant breakfast on Saturday morning.

We left the family after lunch at the Garden Centre on Saturday afternoon. Then – Harry?

Ja?

What happened next?

We went to Wakefield.

He does not want to tell you, because he’s being a nuisance again. He keeps letting you down and costing money. I don’t do that; je sius très sage, moi.

Yes, you are, very good.

So you’re selling the wrong one!?

We’d love to keep you both, but we have explained why we think we can’t.

I will tell the story; we set off from Golgar with Harry pulling me –

Dass war schwer – hard work up that hill!

Then we joined the motorway and went over to Yorkshire. Suddenly – bang! Big Harry had blown his top!

Well, our first thought was that the main skylight had blown off. We pulled onto the hard shoulder and and called the highways agency. Fortunately there had been no sign of damage to other vehicles or accident caused by swerving, so the nice man on the phone said he’d treat it as debris on the carriageway and a crew would come along and try to retrieve the skylight if possible. The fact that no other driver had reacted to the incident should have been a clue as to what had really happened, but for now we waited till the patrol vehicle turned up and said they hadn’t seen it.

We re-joined the carriageway, with the internal blind drawn across the space – that was silly! – then another bang, knocking and the blind was shredded! But the skylight was still on the roof – it hadn’t blown off, it had ‘flipped’. Damaged beyond repair, it was retrievable from inside, with only a little bit still attached, which quickly gave way.

Now the main thing was to get to Oakleigh Close and see what could be done before the rain set in. Rachel and Sean weren’t there, but we let ourselves in as planned and found a ladder in the garage. It was starting to rain.

Now, I’m a bit of a wimp where ladders are concerned, and kneeling on Harry’s roof in a heavy shower trying to secure the remnant of the skylight and a bin bag with tape that wouldn’t stick to the wet surface. I did both as much and as little as I could, then tried to get down ….. well, I did get down, but not without some difficulty.

Rachel, Sean and Shannon arrived as the rain eased off; equipped with towels to dry the roof and some stronger bags, Carol went up the ladder (she’s tougher than I am – and doesn’t have a dodgy hip) and did a more thorough job on fixing the skylight.

Sean took a picture from his office window:

Not quite the easy transfer from Golgar to Sharlston we had anticipated

Sunday morning and Shannon joined us for breakfast:

Later on, a lively service at Destiny Church was to have been followed by a ‘family sports day’ and picnic. Everyone had set up their picnic furniture in the nearby park and was watching the games, when we were treated to another of these April showers (?) and a mass retreat took us back into the church building (a converted theatre) for the picnic. I thought it was time to take a picture of the proud parents instead of The Baby:

But that didn’t last!

THE GOLCAR DAYS

Leaving Welwyn on Sunday (11th) we travelled north via M1 / M6, en route for Stockport. THEY’d found a small caravan park in Poynton, and the way to it took us past Jodrell Bank which THEY’d never seen close up.

We uncoupled the vehicles at Poynton, then, once parked up and hooked up (electrics) –

Me, I took them to find Daniel at the hospital where he works. –

Oh, you’re joining in – that’s nice!

Huh – now who’s being ‘sarcy’? And then we went first one way, then the other to find a restaurant where THEY could have dinner. Apparently, there would have been a half hour wait at the first one. So THEY ended up at the same Chinese place THEY went to last time.

And it was very good – again.

We dropped Daniel back at the hospital and went back to Harry on the caravan park, where THEY had quite a quiet night.

On our arrival at Golcar next day (Monday) S & N were eager to help uncouple the vehicles, park Harry round the back of the Manse, and hook up the electrics. Then they had a play in Harry, apparently driving to France and back between them. There followed a session of rough and tumble which involved Grandad trying to tie the children in knots. This ended with S taking a flying dive onto the sofa and delivering Grandad a head butt to the cheekbone! They both like taking pictures and are actually quite good at it, once we persuade them to keep their fingers off and away from the lens. This may be one of N’s:

Tuesday (Carol’s Birthday): Three travelled in Harry, and three in the family’s Honda for a picnic at Shebden Park – a nice spot but the facilities need upgrading! We took Harry as there was a hint of drizzle so we had everything we needed without sheltering under trees and wearing waterproofs for picnicking! But the drizzle held off and after lunch we had a ride on the little train:

Then Daddy rowed us round the lake a couple of times. (It’s a pity I can’t pair this pic with one of him learning to row at Matlock Bath, aged about eight, but that was in pre-digital days and it isn’t to hand to scan in.)

We left the family after that to go to Wakefield to visit Rachel with Shannon, while Vik and Scout were there. The ‘parcel’ got passed accordingly; from Grandad:

To Carol:

to Scout:

(Unfortunately, the photo I took of MOTHER and Baby is out of focus – there’ll be better ones next week.)

Back at Golcar, after supper, and children’s bedtime, we had the first rubber of bridge, which was easily won by the home side.

Wednesday: Chris & Michelle had to go to an appointment early in the morning, and took the brave step of leaving S & N with Grandad & Carol. We finished breakfast, but hadn’t done much else before C & M were back. Then there was more play in and around Harry:

and in the afternoon we took S & N to the park – well, Carol did –

M’sieur cheated and drove up while M’dame walked up with the little ones. We met them at the park.

I didn’t cheat! It’s severely uphill and I’m now under specific Doctor’s orders not to do strenuous walking. Severely uphill, of course would have meant a severe downhill return. Anyway, Grandad was useful in the park as a spinner and swing pusher:

We are both a bit useful, then!

Back at base, after supper and bedtime, we succeeded in reversing the bridge result and levelling the score. Just a pity we didn’t call the little slam with which we won the second game.

Thursday 15th: another outing with the little ones, on the same pattern – Carol walking, SKT driving to meet them at the destination, this time the garden centre. Arriving first, I was able to give Sally a wash at the garage next door –

Merci. I needed that.

At the garden centre, there was a playground, some hens and pigs and goats, and a sandpit:

Later on, the bridge was decided. A rash ‘double’ by SKT gave the home side the chance to redouble and win 3NT redoubled, vulnerable. Oops! A loss by 1,750 points. Ah well, there’s always next time! Will that be in Sonnac?

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Stephen's space

SKT's photo-journal, for family and friends

Tag Archives: Family

Christmas 2024

The end of an era …?

Last Days at Meltham … 11 days in Harry … First Days at 141.

Harry Goes To Wales

A Day Out, a Barbecue and a Birthday.

The Removal from Sonnac, Part Four – The Journey Home.

THE ‘MISSING’ MONTHS AND A FLYING VISIT TO UK

Dordogne Holiday

HARRY COMES HOME

SHANNON VICTORIA MARYSE-COYLE. DEDICATION 23RD MARCH 2014

Harry to Lucy (2). S.K.T. fills in the details.

Postcards to Lucy 4th-20th March 2014

HARRY’S BACK! (ON THE ROAD)

SUNEJO CHRISTMAS

November ….. December ……

We leave Sally in Lincoln and head for home, via Potters Bar, Surbiton and Rouen.

THE SHARLSTON DAYS

Golcar to Sharlston, with complications!

THE GOLCAR DAYS