Home Again.

We’re home.  It’s strange to think we have been away for four whole months, as it feels now as though we only left yesterday.  Everything here is as we left it and we have slotted back in seamlessly.  I can honestly say that it is lovely to be home, back with good friends, the family and the warm comfort of familiarity.  However, before slotting straight back in to where we were before we left on our adventure, it is important to look at and review the whole exercise.  What lessons have we learnt and what is going to change?

For a start, anxiety levels rise to unexpected levels when facing new challenges as one ages.  You think back to how casually one launched oneself into new and exciting ventures in the past and yearn for that same carefree spirit.  However, that was the joy, and perhaps innocence, of youth, without the experience of what can, and sometimes does, go wrong.  Achieving success with the French Visas was a great confidence booster, but took its toll at the time.  I was equally determined to achieve success with the European Pet Passports for the dogs.  This certainly caused me a certain amount of stress at the time, but the satisfaction of arriving in Calais and, armed with their new blue Passports, checking the dogs in without a hitch made it all worth while.  This was made even more satisfying having watched two people ahead of us being turned away, as they did not have the required paperwork.  They were having to find vets in Calais, wait 24 hours following the tapeworm treatment, and rebook all their travel arrangements.  I’m not sure how one can control anxiety.  Maybe just being aware that half the anxiety is a symptom of the ageing process and not of incompetence(?!), might remind one to take it slowly and steadily, and not be too frustrated by setbacks - which are almost inevitable from our experience!

Having a completely blank page in the diary was for us both an exciting experience.  The pattern of every day developed naturally, led by the weather and the need to exercise ourselves and the dogs.  Around those two criteria we were able to build in other things, shopping, exploring new places or getting stuck into some reading, writing, drawing, or just ‘thinking’, with a freedom dependent on how we felt on a particular day.  This cannot happen in normal life as so much in the diary involves other people and a timetable.  Those activities are very important.   However, it should be possible to regularly set aside days, or even half days, when what you decide to do is NOT going to be interrupted or postponed!  I’m going to try.

We both agreed that understanding, and being pretty comfortable with, modern technology made a big difference to our stay.  Most importantly, keeping in regular close communication with family and friends, particularly when there were health issues or any other sort of problem, gave us a peace of mind which would have not been possible if we felt out of touch.  Gathering information and problem solving were all made easier with the use of IT.  

We have loved being in each other’s company 24/7, enjoyed hours of walking and talking together, and really valued the opportunity to have the time to do this.  We often reflected on the fact that at home we are inclined to be like ships that pass in the night, me rushing out the door to be somewhere on time, as he returns home from some other activity, eventually meeting for an evening meal at the end of the day, not really feeling like ‘deep and meaningful’ conversation.  There’s not much one can do about that in a full and happy life.  Perhaps being aware and also doing most of the dog walks together goes some way to solving this. 

I would say we both feel reenergised and rejuvenated by our experience.  Yes, there remains still the concern in the back of one’s mind that just around the corner everything could change, but that is almost entirely out of our control and frankly applies at any age to a degree. New experiences are not just for the young!  Plans should be tempered by awareness of one’s limitations, and vulnerabilities of age taken into account.  But the advantages of stepping off the merry-go-round for a time are huge and totally positive. We’d do it again in a heartbeat - in fact we’re already planning!

The EU Pet Passport Saga Continues

Believe it or not, I’ve just paid yet another visit to the Vet!  The euphoria of being handed EU Pet Passports for both dogs and sending the registration form to I-Cad to complete the business, plus a cheque drawn on a French bank account, began to wear a bit thin when we hadn’t heard anything from I-Cad after a month (see a previous Blog)!  I had had a niggling worry in the back of my mind which began to grow with each passing day.  Should we have sent the Passports together with the Registration Form?  The only way to get an answer to this question and appropriate advice if we had got it wrong, would be to speak to Dr Mougin.  The dogs’ UK Animal Health Certificates as a fall back expire on the 12th May and time was running out!  I decided to shortcut an attempt to consult with Dr Mougin and turned to AI and ChatGPT.  I asked the question ‘how do you get an EU Pet Passport when living in France?’  The answer flashed back instantly with very clear instructions.  We had done everything perfectly, but ChatGPT did imply that the Passports should be sent with the Registration Forms!  My heart sank. Rather than attempt a complicated conversation with Dr Mougin, I decide to send him an email in French (courtesy of Google Translate) asking for clear answers to a number of questions, but, above all, should we be changing our travel plans?  Forty eight hours later I receive an answering email which reads:-

‘Le Dr Mougin est absent jusqu’au 30 avril.  Merci de télèphoner au cabinet pour avoir un rendez vous.    Bien cordialement.’

‘Bien cordialement’ indeed! 

The rendez vous referred to was in answer to my request in the email for an appropriately timed visit with both dogs, for the final health check and tick treatment, which has to be done not less than 24 hours and not more than 5 days before crossing back into the UK.  I make the phone call and book the rendez vous, timed for our departure date of choice, the one when we have two legitimate EU Pet Passports. There’s nothing more we can do now until the Doctor returns after the weekend, 5 days later!

At this point Richard decides all is lost and sends a couple of emails (fortunately only a couple) informing friends of our earlier return.  He also begins looking into changing our bookings on the Shuttle and the hotel overnights, but I manage to persuade him to leave it another 24 hours before doing anything.. We told each other one week earlier is hardly the end of the world. I’m disappointed that it looks as though I’ve failed in this challenge, but the big disappointment would be not seeing Tom and the family who had planned to come and spend our last weekend with us here.  We feel we should warn Tom in case and his response is a subdued “oh poo”.

Then I get an email from Dr Mougin, presumably just back from his week away, saying tomorrow he will check if ICad have registered the dogs, and will keep us in touch.  We hold our breath!

The following morning I get another email from the Doctor with the Cartes d’Identification for each dog, ready to print. Joy and relief lasts about 10 minutes.  On reading the cards we see that Annie is registered as a non-sterilised male dog!!  Laddie is also registered incorrectly as non-sterilised.  Feeling very sorry for Doctor Mougin, he gets another email from me pointing out the mistakes.  I could almost hear his sigh of exasperation from here, but he soothingly responds that this can be easily changed and it isn’t a problem.  A day later he asks me to bring all the documents referring to the dogs into the office on Monday morning.

So…………

On Monday morning I find myself once more sitting in the rather unwelcoming waiting room with an assortment of dogs, one cat and their owners.  The usual wait was quite pleasant this time as there was conversation amongst us.  There was also entertainment provided by a large, cheerful, oversized Labrador cross, who was determined to get a black spaniel Laddie lookalike  to play.  The Spaniel was equally determined to rebuff all approaches and had a nice line in high pitched snappy barks if the Lab came too near.  It takes a lot to discourage a large, cheerful, oversized Labrador cross!  When I’m eventually called in, Doctor Mougin goes through the papers I have, grumbling about the inefficiency of the employees at I-Cad.  He has a chuckle that anyone could be so foolish as to think a dog named Annie could be a male dog!  I agreed.  He then summoned his rather dim looking assistant and sent her off with clear instructions as to how to get all the details corrected.  I return to the waiting room to await the next move.

One cat and a black Spaniel later, enter the Doctor triumphantly waving two pieces of paper with the revised EU Cards printed on them. We “à bientǒt” each other smilingly and I leave to join Richard in the car.  As I approach the car I cast my eye over the card details and instantly spot that Laddie is now described as female!  Richard, the ‘cross-every-T-and-dot-every-I’ specialist, double checks that all the other details are correct and then I return once more to the dreary waiting room to surprise the beleaguered Doctor..  I reckon Dr Mougin deserves a medal for his good natured patience (or is he a very good actor?).  Having recovered from the horror of seeing me back again, he calmly takes the offending piece of paper and assures me he’ll be back “toute suite”.  I only have time for a short conversation with an over friendly Weimaraner and its owner before the good Doctor reappears with the corrected piece of paper.  This time I run my eye over all the details before leaving the premises!  All is as it should be, and I leave for the final time, trusting that I have in fact successfully fulfilled this particular challenge at last.

I do have one more visit to Doctor Mougin’s premises in the diary for next week, when the dogs have their final health check and tape worm treatment.  What could possibly go wrong??

Home Thoughts from Abroad

 

Oh, to be in England

Now that April’s there,

And whoever wakes in England

Sees, some morning, unaware,

That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf

Round the elm tree bole are in tiny leaf,

While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough

In England - now!

We have booked our return to England on the Shuttle!  We both found it quite ‘emotional’ (for want of a better word) and there was this pause between the two of us deciding on the date and time and filling in the form online, before finally pressing ‘GO’!  I’m not sure what the hesitation was.  Was it a desire to extend our stay a tiny bit longer?  Were we not looking forward to returning home? Was it the dawning of realisation that ‘all good things come to an end’? Frankly, of those three options only the first applied and, once we’d pressed that button and our end date was written, we both agreed that we were looking forward to getting home again.

Thinking of home now is very like Robert Browning’s ‘Home Thoughts from Abroad.’.  April is usually such a lovely month, with the garden and the countryside waking up and epitomising hope, optimism and new beginnings.  Having said that, Spring here in rural south France has been unexpectedly glorious.  Having arrived in the depths of winter, to see the dramatic change in the countryside on our dog walks over four months has been a surprise and a delight.  Right now the wild flowers in the verges and fields are at their best and to leave while it’s all looking so good is probably the best way to have it.  Once the weather really begins to heat up, it won’t be long before the verges become just dry grass and most of the colour we’re enjoying disappears.

We’ve missed our friends.  Going away for four months at our age, and leaving family and good friends of similar age behind, the chances are that there are going to be medical issues with one or two during our absence, and so it has transpired. It’s upsetting to hear about illness or accidents when all you can do by way of support or comfort is to write or ring.  Not that there would be that much one could do if still in the same country, but there is a strong feeling of wanting to be on hand. It will be good to get home and check up in person on those about whom we have been concerned.  

Keeping in touch generally with friends has been easy thanks to modern technology.  Apart from emails and WhatsApp, there has been regular contact with the daily online Wordle competition with some, and the online Scrabble battles with others.  I have gate crashed my regular Monday tennis group a few times for a catch-up on FaceTime, during their post game coffee and chat session.  If the weather had been better, I would have done this more, but the weather generally in the UK these past months has not been the weather to tempt four ladies of a certain age out on to a tennis court with enthusiasm!

As I write, the car has finally had the problem with a wheel bearing fixed, almost four months after the problem first appeared!  It has caused poor Richard quite a headache and a good deal of stress.  It has also made him reluctant to venture too far in the car for fear of breaking down, and the ensuing drama of summoning help, getting back to Caunes and then getting the car repaired somewhere.  However, not straying too far afield has actually had a positive effect, as we have been able to explore and get to know the immediate area really well.  To be honest, with two dogs in tow we were never going to be wildly adventurous and, thanks to a delightful dog sitter, we have sallied forth and ventured further afield a few times.  However, we now have a couple of weeks to take advantage of a healthy car and stray a little further from home before we leave.

I have booked one more visit to the Dragon’s Den - the Vet!  The dogs have to have a tapeworm treatment and general checkup no less than 24 hours and no more than five days before crossing back into England.  This time I tried yet another strategy and emailed the lovely Doctor Mougin direct, asking for a ‘rendez-vous’ (it sounds highly inappropriate doesn’t it, but that’s what I should call it!) the day before we leave Caunes, and three days before we cross the Channel.  After 48 hours I get an answering email telling me that Doctor Mougin is away until April 30th and would I please telephone the Surgery to arrange a rendez-vous!!  Scuppered!  Once again I telephone and with determination, and not without difficulty, I successfully make my rendez-vous for the right day!

It goes without saying that we are so looking forward to seeing son Ben and family. Take your eyes off his two teenage boys for a second and they grow another couple of inches!  GCSEs loom and we’ve missed out on some rugby matches, rowing events and there will be cricket matches now to get back to.   Living a mere 15 minutes away from us, they are the only ones of our immediate family who still live in the UK.  Oh, and we can’t wait to have their mad Hungarian Vizsla to stay again!

Ceci et Cela

Last week we finally found a street market!  Who doesn’t love a French market with its exciting mix of cheap clothes, bric-à-brac, jewellery, soaps, baskets etc.. etc. and of course food!  Well actually, for those who spend long periods of time in France, for instance second homers, and are endlessly taking enthusiastic guests to these weekly markets, I believe it does begin to pall.  We have a market here in Caunes on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday mornings.  It has so far consisted of three vans.  One is the ‘Quicherie’, another sets up counters of fruit and vegetables and the third is some sort of unexciting boucherie/charcuterie, that appears to sell chickens and not much else that is either recognisable or something one would want to eat.  So to find ourselves in the familiar country of olives, cheeses, interesting fruit and vegetables, herbs and spices, not to mention ready to eat temptations, was such a treat.  There were also a number of stalls selling clothes, mainly Italian and colourful, at temptingly good value prices.  We walked through three or four streets of stalls and took the dogs with us on leads.  There were a number of other dogs on leads, and the four legged were as courteous to each other as the two legged.  We have found that having dogs with us initiates many a good conversation with passers by, very similar to pushing a pram with a baby in it!  To my surprise, the ancient white ‘mongrel’ (for want of a better word!) Annie attracts just as much, and sometimes more, attention as the handsome, chocolate coloured, elaborately coiffured little spaniel.  On our daily run to the Boulangerie there is one woman in Caunes who insists on giving both dogs tiny torn off pieces from her freshly bought baguette if we bump into her.

We stopped for a coffee towards the end of our shopping, enjoyed a touch of ‘people watching’ and heard a lot of English being spoken.  Market day in Olonzac every Tuesday is clearly a regular part of life here for the ex.pats.

Pine Processionary Caterpillars 

Earlier this year, in February, we noticed high up in the tops of some pine trees what looked like spun, spiderweb-like nests.  I took some photos and only a week ago, during a conversation at the English French Conversation coffee morning, found out what they are.  They are nests belonging to the pine processional caterpillar.

 

The pine processionary moths are known for their caterpillars.  These caterpillars overwinter in these tent-like nests high in pine trees and emerge to process, nose to tail, in long columns, protected from predators by their severely irritating hairs.  They are orange-brown and hairy with blue bands.  Lengthy processions are formed when fully grown caterpillars abandon their host tree in search of pupation sites, when apparently as many as three hundred caterpillars may travel long distances looking for soft soil in which to bury themselves and form cocoons.  I remember coming across one of these processions some time ago, on a walk in France.  We stood for some time watching this long procession of caterpillars crossing the path and, fortunately for us, did not attempt to touch them. The hairs on the caterpillars cause harmful, and in some cases allergic, reactions in humans and other mammals.  I was warned to make sure the dogs didn’t touch them as those hairs can make them very ill indeed.  These caterpillars are also a grave danger to the pine trees in which they nest, as they emerge at night, while they are maturing, to feed on their host.  They are a registered vermin in France.  A word of warning! There is another species of processionary moth called the oak processional moth.  This too makes nests for its caterpillars in trees, but this time the oak tree.  These moths have reached England, have spread from London to the surrounding regions in the South East, and some have now spread even further, to Colchester, Reading and Milton Keynes.  Apart from the danger to humans and animals, they can severely damage an oak tree and are feared and hated by landscape gardeners.

French Television

We discovered early on that French television has very little to offer.  I suspect most expats get themselves set up with a means of accessing UK television via internet.  We weren’t really keen to do this as we're here to live ‘comme vivent les Francais’, and anyway we discovered early on that our iPads weren’t actually up to the job.  We found a channel on french television that has a news and discussion programme in the early evening and we watch it nearly every day.  This has kept us in touch with what has been in the news here in France since we arrived in January, and helped with learning to understand the language better as well.  It has been interesting to discover that generally the problems here are almost a mirror image of the problems being faced in England.  We have found this faintly comforting!

Back in January the news was all about the angry French farmers, blocking strategic motorways, driving phalanxes of tractors and other huge agricultural vehicles up the Champs Elysée in Paris and dumping piles of general farm muck wherever they were protesting.  We weren’t troubled by any of this type of protest around here, but the local farmers did their bit to show their support by turning road signs with the village names upside down!

Comme ça!

Shopping

I am really talking supermarket shopping here.  There is a reasonably large Carrefour a ten minute drive from here, and that is where we do our shopping for household stuff and anything more interesting than the rather basic stuff stocked by the old fashioned little supermarket in Caunes itself.  Now there are a number of aspects of shopping in this Carrefour that I have found makes the whole exercise more difficult.  The first irritation is that there are no overhead signs giving one a clue as to what you might hope to find in a particular aisle.  This meant that for many weeks I spent my time wearing out the wheels on my ‘chariot ‘ going up and down aisle after aisle in search of a particular  item.  Secondly, at home in Sainsbury’s I do the zapping thing, known as Smartshop.  I scan each item as I pack it into a bag in my trolley and when finished I go to an unmanned checkout till where my shopping is electronically added up, I pay and off I go!  Quick, easy and stress free.  Here I have found myself back in the irritating checkout queue, eyeing the neighbouring queue with frustration as it always seems to move faster than the one I’ve chosen!  I have to unpack my chariot and then sprint to the other end to pack my shopping into the assortment of bags that I’ve brought with me.  It’s a long time since I’ve been doing this and I don’t like it!  And then there’s the husband.  Richard practically never shops with me in a supermarket in the UK, but here he has nearly always accompanied me.  The draw is not predominantly to be helpful, although I’m sure he would insist it is, it is the choosing of the wine!  I find it very hard to concentrate when he’s with me.  He darts off and returns to pop one or two of his favourite french titbits into the chariot, and as I open my mouth to suggest he goes to find something that is on my list he’s gone again.  If I do manage to send him off on an errand, I will trundle round a corner into another aisle only to find him empty handed and looking rather lost and desperate, having failed to find what he was supposed to be looking for.   In the early days here he would disappear with the trolley when my back was turned and I’d end up with armfuls of stuff playing ‘hunt the husband’.  Usually he was easy to locate at the far end of the shop, happy in the wine corner.  It was particularly frustrating when he was not to be found in his favourite corner and a search began.  My strategy is to walk the length of the shop looking down each aisle to the very far end.  On a good day, we’ll spot each other, I can unload my armfuls of shopping and all is well.  On a bad day, I’ll spot him at the very far end of an aisle, marching purposefully parallel to me and not looking left or right.  By the time I’ve battled to where I saw him, he’s disappeared again!  To be fair, we’re getting better at shopping together and our ‘who gets le chariot’ strategy has been fine tuned to our mutual satisfaction.

 

 

We Darken Those Doors Again!

 We’ve paid another visit to the vet!  I know, I know, I said I wouldn’t darken her doors again, but needs must.  I have asked a number of people about local vets and searched online but frankly unless I was prepared to drive an unreasonable distance, there was no sense in going elsewhere.  Another factor was that during my enquiries everyone told me that Marc Mougin, the vet whose Practice it is, was a very pleasant man and also he spoke a little English.  I decided that having experienced the female vet once, I would find her easier next time or, better still, I might avoid her and find myself talking to Marc Mougin himself instead! The reason for needing the services of a vet again was to get EU Pet Passports for both dogs.  The UK Animal Health Certificate only lasts for 4 months, thus for our dogs they expire a month before our Visas expire, and although we still intend to return home in the middle of May, the deadline for the dogs’ travel puts a restraint on our return that we could do without.  We don’t want to be panicking about timing at the end of our adventure.  Additionally, the European Pet Passport lasts the dog’s lifetime and who knows where we might want to take them next?!  

As before, I begin with an attempt to telephone and ask for a rendezvous-vous to find out if they are both able and prepared to provide EU Passports for our dogs..  The first time I get through to a female voice (my bête noire?) who says “un moment s’il vous plaît” and vanishes.  I hang on and many ‘moments’ later she returns, says something indecipherable and hangs up!!  I decide bravely to count to ten and try again.  This time I get the answerphone.  Right, I was not prepared to go through that pantomime again, so Richard and I decide to pop in and attempt to ask their advice face to face.  My first ‘pop in’ was a waste of time.  I found myself in a waiting room full of anxious dogs tugging on their leads, and cats in carriers, with their owners sitting in silence, all looking as though they’d lost the will to live.  I sit, hoping to catch someone to talk to between clients, but after 15 minutes with no sign of the present appointment ending, I lose patience and leave with a plan to return right at the end of the day, hoping to speak to a vet after the last patient leaves.

This ‘good idea’ looked as though it was going to backfire when I went into the waiting room at ten to five, only to find three or four people, with assorted animals, still waiting to see the vet.  If the appointments were going to take as long as the one in the morning was clearly taking, I was in for a very long wait.  I decided to sit it out and after about ten minutes there was the sound of someone coming out of the consulting room and leaving.  The door opened and in came, not the dragon, but someone who was clearly the famous Marc Mougin.  He summoned the next candidate and before he could go out again I leapt to my feet and started asking if I could have a quick word with him - success!  Marc Mougin is indeed a very nice, smiley man, small and dark, with a twinkle in his eye.  He speaks pretty good English and five minutes later I returned triumphantly to the car, where Richard was waiting, with an appointment for a couple of days later to do the necessary to get an EU Passport for each dog.

Richard came with me for our rendezvous-vous with Dr. Mougin, in case of any difficult questions and to help manage the dogs, as I was concerned that Laddie might freak out finding himself there again.  He didn’t, Marc Mougin bore no resemblance to the torturer at his last visit, and he behaved beautifully throughout.  The consulting room at this Practice is about the size of a small bathroom.  Once Richard and I, the two dogs, Dr. Mougin and his assistant were all in his surgery, there was hardly room to move.  His assistant sat at a desk with all the sheaves of paper we’d brought with us, transferring the relative information in French onto more sheaves of paper. Dr. Mougin, meanwhile, peered into the dogs’ ears and mouths, poked thermometers into their bottoms, stuck needles into their scruffs and handed over medication for fleas and ticks.  I signed blindly where I was directed to on a couple of pieces of paper and, finally, we came to payment..  Paying Dr. Mougin’s rather hefty invoice was easily done by card.  However, as the final part of the application, the completed form for each dog had to be sent to an official Registration Office accompanied by a cheque for 22€ (11€ per dog) drawn on a French Bank!  This was the only form of payment accepted and the last piece of the puzzle.  Marc Mougin had done his bit, so now, with a grin, he handed us the two forms and we left, scratching our heads as to how we were going to find someone to write a French cheque on our behalf.  We had hardly got home before I noticed I had an email from Marc Mougin! Uh oh!  It read:

‘Hello Madam Maidment, 

If you have not yet sent the Icad papers for your dogs, could you please check the identification numbers, dates of birth and colours of your dogs as it seems that my assistant has made some mistakes.  You can correct them before sending the papers.  Sorry.  Dr. Mougin’

We checked and, sure enough, the harassed assistant had given both dogs the same chip number and labelled Annie ‘white and black’ rather than ‘white and brown’!  Mistakes duly corrected, we checked with Tom and Carrie as to whether either of them had a French bank account and drew a blank.  Then we thought of Richard’s cousin Susie who has been living in France since the 1960’s.  The unusual request was made via email to Susie who, with the warning that it might not reach us until Christmas(!), put the required cheque in the post and it dropped through our letterbox 2 days later!    As I write we are keeping everything crossed that this will go through without a hitch.  It feels like waiting for confirmation of our Visas all over again!

Six Nations Rugby Championship 2024

Anyone who knows our family will know that almost without exception we love watching, and in some cases playing, a good game of Rugby Union.  With me it started way back in the early fifties, when my father played for Chiltern Rugby Football Club at Chesham, Bucks.  Even now the smell of an old fashioned Clubhouse, bare wooden floor boards, mud and sweat, or the sight of a rather thin, dry sandwich with curly edges, takes me straight back to those days.  I have to admit that I didn’t take much interest in the games then, but clearly the seed was sown.  I progressed to watching rugby at Twickenham with the family for years and then had the good sense to marry a rugby enthusiast!  Richard played at school and then for the ‘Floaters XV’ at Dartmouth, a team in which to earn your colours you had to down 14 pints between opening and closing hours.  He never won his colours! Adrienne played for Wasps in her early days in London after leaving school.  She herself would admit that she did so for the social life that went with it, and particularly because she knew how jealous/irritated her brothers would be seeing her dressed in the Wasps’ strip.  This phase in her life didn’t last long, but we did watch her play once.  The alarm and horror on her face, and the speed with which she got rid of the ball the one time it landed unexpectedly and unavoidably in her arms, was testament to her skill and genuine enthusiasm for the game!  Tom was (sorry Tom, has to be ‘WAS’) a very good scrum half both at school and beyond, and modelled himself on Johnny Wilkinson.  Ben was described by Tom, in his Best Man’s speech at Ben’s Wedding, as ‘a talented yet painfully slow and defensively inept fly half’!’ And now we have grandsons playing the game.

In the Seventies and Eighties we found like minded friends with whom  to watch the 5 Nations Championships.  Thus the Rugger Buggers, who got together to watch all the matches every year on television, was born.  When we were living in Germany in the nineties, an intrepid bunch of Rugger Buggers drove out to Frankfurt just for a weekend of fun and televised Five Nations.  A very depleted version still exists today. This year, of course, Richard and I found ourselves in France for the Tournois des Six Nations without a single Rugger Bugger to share the excitement.  As the date for the first round of matches drew near, we noticed to our delight that Caunes’ rugby club was advertising tickets for the opening match, France v Ireland, watching on a giant screen, with paella and drinks.  We decided to get a couple of tickets as it seemed a good way for us to get into some village life.  However, having made that brave decision, when we approached Mme Boulangerie, who we were told was selling the tickets, she said that it wasn’t happening after all as there hadn’t been a good enough take up.  But despair not, la Grande Fontaine had picked up the baton and the evening would now take place there - complete with paella! 

Sitting in a French bar, surrounded by French rugby supporters, eating paella and watching France being crushed by Ireland, was not the most comfortable of experiences!  What we did learn was that the French quickly lose interest in a match they are losing and are quick to condemn their own team as useless.  Not for them the loud vocal support that Richard keeps up throughout a game when England is playing, optimistic to the last blast of the whistle, whatever the score.  There was one particular character at the bar who was really quite unsettling.  Tall and thin, with a bald head, he made regular sorties to the loo, passing close to our table, stopping every few yards to shout unintelligible words, gesticulate wildly and stare around with wide scary eyes!  We felt he was either suffering from Tourette’s syndrome or was a trifle unhinged.  Everyone just seemed to ignore him, so we did the same! 

Some matches we have watched à deux from the house, with Richard giving the dogs the benefit of his rich seam of ‘Naval’ expletives and vast knowledge of all rules and wiles of the game.  We have also spent many hours in la Grande Fontaine where he is wise enough to keep himself unusually restrained, and it’s been very enjoyable.  We are greeted warmly by the other rugby enthusiasts, with hand shakes and friendly greetings when we arrive, and are always shown to a table with a good view of the large screen television.  France has had an uncomfortable season and that is probably why the support for their team in the bar has been unexpectedly mediocre - except of course for our barking friend with the staring eyes!  He is always there, always behaving in the same way, and we have got used to his odd behaviour.  Despite appearances, he’s not a threat.  

 For the final match of the season, France v England, we just had to be at la Grande Fontaine,  to share the buzz and the atmosphere.  There was for once a smattering of English supporters there, so a few voices joined in with ‘God Save the King’ when it struck up on the television.  However, we all sang the Marseillaise enthusiastically, although none more enthusiastically than you know who!  It was a fantastic game with both teams playing their best rugby of the competition.  We cheered when the French scored and cheered even louder when the English scored.  Everyone showed appreciation for good play from either side.  At the final whistle we were quick to congratulate all the ecstatic French fans in the bar and it was heart warming to see a smile on the face of our barking friend and receive a warm handshake from him as well.  Perhaps it was as well the final result went the way it did!

Halfway and Signs of Spring!

 

We’ve now been here for nearly two months and daily life is showing signs of Spring in a number of ways.  The plane trees that line our street have all had fierce haircuts and are looking sad and unattractive.  This ‘pollarding’ is happening everywhere and I hope the new growth will be very much in evidence before we leave in May.  On our walks ever more wild flowers are appearing, meaning that there is more and more colour.  Mimosa trees are in full bloom and although the almond blossom is going over, small vivid green leaves are taking the place of the flowers.  We have picked handfuls of almonds that still cling to the branches of the almond trees, but then found it impossible to crack the shells.  Needing a nutcracker, we went off to a large shop in a nearby village that sells anything you could think of, and cheaply.  Having looked up the word for nutcracker on Google Translate, I asked one of the shopgirls if they had one. Her reaction was to ask me to repeat the word and then with a sidelong look at another girl, giggling, she led me off and found me one. She was still chuckling with her friend as I checked out and I can only assume that the word ‘nut’ has the same connotation in French as in English!!

On the 1st March there was a lot of mention of something called ‘Mars Bleu’ in the press. We asked our fount of all knowledge, Madame Boulangerie, what this was and apparently it’s a term used at the beginning of March, when many people develop health problems related to the time of year.  She is clearly very sceptical about this (she did a lot of eye rolling and eyebrow raising) but added that in October they have ‘October Rose’ when another lot of health problems regularly occur!  It’s clearly related to the Equinox and in Germany would send the population scampering off for weeks at a ‘Kur Klinik’!

In all the vineyards workers are busy finishing the pruning and tidying.  I don’t envy them.  There are rows and rows of vines and usually one man, bent double, clipping and tying up one vine after another.  Very often there’s a brightly coloured vehicle parked at the side of the huge area they are working on, presumably chosen to make it easier to find when they finish!  We have done a fair amount of driving around the Minervois area and there are miles and miles of beautifully tended rows of vines in vineyard after vineyard.  I had no idea that this was such a productive winemaking region!

On a walk a couple of weeks ago we were greeted by an enormous dog.  At first we were a little nervous of it, it was very large and clearly very keen to make our acquaintance, but we quickly realised that, like many giants of the animal and human kingdom, it was a real softy.  It conversed with Annie and Laddie, refused Laddie’s offer of a game and as we moved on, it ambled back from whence it came.  We have subsequently seen and learnt more about these dogs.  Just lately we have noticed herds of sheep in the vineyards, grazing between the rows of vines, presumably doing a good job keeping the weeds down for the winegrower.  To protect their herds the shepherds use guard dogs.  It is recommended that you keep your distance, stay calm and put your dog(s) on a lead if you come across one of these dogs!!

  Well nobody warned us!  To be fair, our gentle giant was clearly ‘off duty’, or perhaps had failed the ‘Get Offa my Land’ test!  They have very long legs and stand in ‘first position’ with their feet turned out, like a large hairy ballerina.

Another sign that life in the village and beyond is beginning to stir from its winter slumber, is the number of ‘events’ being advertised on flyers in shop windows and around the streets. Caunes is having  a Jazz Evening on Friday this week which we intend to go to and, to my delight, our favourite bar/restaurant, La Cantina de Curée, is opening its doors again with a bit of a party on the 28th March.

Trying to make headway with our conversational French is not proving easy.  We read the daily local paper every morning without much difficulty. We watch the evening news and associated discussion programme every evening and find we are understanding more and more, but we have few opportunities to speak it at length.  However, last week as she cut his hair for the second time, Mme. Karine told Richard that there was a group of English people who met weekly at La Grande Fontaine’ to speak French with each other. She suggested he popped back later when one of the regulars would be having a haircut and Richard could learn more. So, later that morning we both met Paul Brown, a man of almost exactly the same age as Richard, and learnt more. There’s one group of men who meet for lunch a couple of times a month on a Wednesday and rant about the world in general and what should be being done about it (sound familiar?!) and then there’s the weekly Thursday mixed group that Mme Karine mentioned. Paul was a pleasant man who has lived in a nearby village for 20 years or so.  We decided we would give the Thursday lot a try and rather warily tipped up at the appropriate time. I felt that the least the experience would do was to provide fodder for the Blog!!  However, I’m pleased to report that we found a group of about a dozen people, male and female, all very friendly, aged (inevitably) in their sixties and seventies I’d guess.  They do all speak French to each other and there are a couple of native French speakers too. It was a good first experience for us and we’ll be going along this week again.  I am interested to find out more about individuals, what brought them to France, how long they’ve lived here, do they plan to return to the UK ever etc.etc.

Almost lastly, the worrying tale of the Subaru continues.  Richard’s hopes for a resolution with the mechanic who took me for a ride ended up with Richard rather being taken for a ride.  When he went back to collect the car he was told that the problem did not appear to be the wheel bearings after all.  He had pumped up all the tyres hard, given the car an oil change and the problem persists.  However, we have a new source of hope!  Richard was telling our tale of woe to one of the men at the Thursday table.  He has lived in Caunes for a number of years and highly recommended his mechanic in a nearby village.  He’d hardly finished his sentence before we were hot footing off to track down our new would-be hero.  We located his garage and have a rendezvous-vous booked in a couple of weeks time - with absolutely everything crossed!!

And lastly lastly, we had a happy day last week visiting Lagrasse, a village that is part of Les Plus Beaux Villages de France.  It is beautiful, with medieval streets and houses, and an old bridge that crosses the Orbieu river to the Sainte-Marie Abbey.  After strolling around in the sunshine with the dogs, we sat outside a small restaurant and had lunch.  I thought you’d enjoy the sign that was on the wall in the loo………