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!