A Journey to the End of the Earth.

I have just returned from a brief visit to Roscoff, in Finisterre, which any Latin scholars among you will recognise as being derived from finis terrae, the end of the earth. The purpose of the trip was to deliver Kim to the Brittany Ferries vessel `Armorique` crossing to Plymouth yesterday afternoon. So as not to make too much of an ordeal, we went up as far as St Brieuc the day before and stayed in the Formule 1 hotel nearby.
   I must admit that I really don`t mind making this trip. long though it is. The roads are not busy in northern France,with the possible exception of the Nantes périférique, and Roscoff itself is I think my favourite French town.

   It is an odd mix of a sleepy French fishing port and a modern ferry and freight terminal, luckily separated by half a kilometer or so. The old town is a charming warren of narrow streets, with loads of little shops and restaurants rendered prosperous by the presence of the passengers arriving and departing to catch the ferries.We always try to arrange our arrival to leave time for a meal, often choosing the local speciality of crepes and cider.We always used to frequent the Creperie de la Poste, but in recent years have transfered our affection to another restaurant Le Bigoudan, which served a copious meal often with chips... What was our horror on arriving this time to find it had changed hands and had gone all up-market with quite different food. We tried instead the creperie next door ( the Poste was having a day off), which we found excellent.

All this talk of food has made me hungry. Bye for now, I will tell more in another blog!

Days of Vine and Roses.

  With the arrival of some sunny days and the departure of the snow, we have been able to start our usual Spring pruning of the climbing roses and of the vines. We have inherited with the house two huge `treilles` which straggle all along our range of outbuildings, and which need to be pruned each Spring. The trunks of the largest vine are as thick as my thigh and in summer are a mass of tender green leaves. At this time of year, though, they have every appearance of being dead. Indeed, when we first saw the house in April 2000, we thought the old vine was dead, what a shame, we will have to plant a new one...We were astounded when we returned to sign the Acte de Vente in July to see that it was very much alive, covered in leaves and developing grapes!
   I am sure my French-based readers know all about pruning vines, but for English (or Scottish) friends I will elaborate a bit.
    In winter or early Spring the vines bristle with last year`s `sarments`, that is the last seasons shoots which have borne the bunches of grapes. They are long cane-like bars, up to 3 metres long. they have to be cut off with secateurs back to a couple of buds, about three inches long. A new fruiting shoot will develop when the plant wakes up in late spring.If you don`t do this, disaster, new shoots will spring from each of the buds down the un-cut shoot, giving it the appearance of a fish`s backbone, and the vine will waste its energies in foliage rather than grapes. The vine after pruning has a ravaged look, which convinced us that it was dead all those years ago. In fact, it is difficult to do much harm to a well-established vine, we even cut one off at ground level in the orchard where one was no longer wanted and it sent up vigorous new growth from nothing!  The root is still there of course.

On the left is a shot I have just taken of the pruned vine, showing the size of the stock or trunk draped along the buildings. All is now ready for the new leaves and eventual grapes.
Kim has carried out a similar procedure on her climbing rose, which looks just as dead!
   We don`t make wine from our grapes, after an attempt years ago which convinced us that it is not  a good idea from this vine which is intended for brandy distillation. Besides the variety, known as Baccou (not sure of the spelling) is illegal to plant and has the reputation of driving drinkers `fou` perhaps because of its strength. We use it to make a delicious jelly and as fruit-juice which needs to be put in the freezer to stop it turning into wine all on its own, and incidentally bursting its containers. We hope to make more this year so we can continue to drink it with our breakfast until the new crop is ready, we have run out a few weeks ago. The jam is still going strong, though. To the best of our knowledge we are not being driven mad by either preparation!

    Bye for now, breakfast calls, with commercial orange-juice, alas!

A Ray of Sunlight.

People who don`t know Kim (Mrs Noah) well are always surprised to learn that she suffers from occasional depression, sometimes very severely. At these times her normal positive and practical outlook becomes timid and sad and in the past has almost led to suicide. These tendencies are controlled to an extent by a medicine which is normally effective, but has the disadvantage that it is bad for her heart, and thus must be kept to the bare minimum. This has led to occasional crises, which often occur in mid-winter, a time she finds particularly trying.
  We have long suspected that she suffers from S.A.D. seasonal affective disorder, which can sometimes be helped by sitting in front of a light-box which mimics the sunlight which her body craves. This is quite different from a fake-tan machine of course, and is thought to work by deceiving the brain into feeling that it is sitting in the sun..
  Anyway we decided to order a box (from the Net, of course) and it arrived a couple of weeks ago. I must admit that my hopes of a miracle cure were not high but I was glad to be proved wrong!! Since she has been using the box her mood has improved tremendously, and she has recovered her usual confidence and cheerfulness, without,of course, needing any extra medication. We are both very happy with the effect of this simple device. Kim is going to use it until the hour changes and will recommence on a preventative basis in the Autumn.
    A really miraculous outcome to a life-threatening illness. Does anyone else recognise these symptoms in themselves? Perhaps a light-box could help them, too.
 

    Bye for now, got to walk the dogs.

I sing in praise of the GPS/Satnav.

 Everyone either has, or at least knows of these little aids to navigation, which have rendered map-reading almost superfluous. However, familiarity has never removed my sense of wonder at the sheer brilliance of the device. Imagine the development conference between the accessory manufacturer and the engineer---Right I want something that can detect and measure the angles of the satellites the Americans have kindly suspended 33,000 miles above the earth and work out where you are to within 50 yards. OK, what next? I want the position displayed on a map you will generate on a TV screen. Then what? I want a database with all the streets and towns of France included, and for you to work out the best route from here to wherever I choose from the database. Anything else? Yes I want vocal directions in umpteen languages to direct you to this destination.  OK, I`ll get to work. I`ll need a three ton truck with a couple of dish aerials on the roof, a BIG computer, a couple of loudspeakers assorted power supplies..... What do you mean it must fit in a box the size of a packet of fags, what do you think I am, a magician or something!!! Nevertheless, it has been done and some features I haven`t even mentioned included on top.
   We bought our GPS several years ago when we were going to go from here to Lille in NE France and then direct to Aucun in the Pyrenees. True, the route the device chose was not much different to what we had always followed, but following it was much easier. Now we scarcely go anywhere without plugging it in, not least because it can be set to warn you if you exceed a set speed. For finding an address in a large town it`s almost indispensable. And we also use it to play games. If you regulate it to take the shortest route to somewhere you will be surprised at following roads you have never seen before. It`s surprising how you get habituated to a certain route like a snail that never deviates.
    Mind you, if you mess up the input, you may well end up in a town with a similar name that you had no intention of visiting, it`s as well not to follow the advice blindly. We had a puzzled English couple turn up at La Mort Limousin (our village) under the impression they were in the Limousin! We had to tell them they were 50 kilometers adrift, and they should have entered Limoges on the machine....
  Still, we have found the GPS a boon, and would not willingly be without it now.  But we still carry maps in the car, you never know!

     Bye for now animal feeding time!

Spring in the air?

I woke up this morning with a real feeling that life and normal temperatures are resuming once again. The sky is blue in despite of the Météo, as it so often is in this region, and the old house is warming up so I don`t need to put on paraffin stoves to supplement the faithful cuisiniere. I will confess that the pic is from last year but it will be reality in not too long.
   In contrast to my last report we are starting to plan the normal Spring activities. It`s time to give the vines their haircut, I always enjoy that. Kim`s roses need similar treatment too. The garden tap needs a bit of bricolage after  being frozen, and then we can clean the ducks pond. It will be pleasant to work outside instead of making a hurried sortie, muffled against the cold to carry out only essential tasks.  Life is back on the rails, Deux Sevres life can resume its normal pleasant course. Vive le printemps!!!

Survival!

There is a site on Internet called Survive France,a discussion forum for English Ex-pats where they share their problems and less commonly, their joys in their new life in the hexagone. Now, I am not running down this site, it`s a good one, but usually I feel a twinge of irritation at the name. I prefer to think of myself as flourishing here and would prefer to see the forum called `Thrive France` or something similar!

   However, I must admit that for the last ten days, life here has been a matter of survival, of sauve qui peut.. There has been more snow than we have seen in our ten years living here, and worse, the temperature has descended into the bulb of the thermometer. Our bedroom grew so cold that we decided to abandon the first floor entirely and just inhabit the kitchen and the lounge, making up our bed on the futon, which we bought this year with such an expedient in mind. This worked well up to a point, but it`s scarcely convenient and it does mean we share our bed with several of the cats who also find the cold a bit trying. See the photo above.
   Heating has had to be beefed up with an extra paraffin stove and a gaziniere to supplement the wood-burner which is usually adequate.
    Still, better days are coming soon and the temperature has risen today, the snow is melting at last, and we can look forward to life being pleasant and not just an endurance test. Spring WILL come. Vive la France!

    Bye for now, got to walk the dogs.

Digs--No it doesn`t refer to archeology!

  While talking of the 1962/63 cold winter, I mentioned my `digs` at the time and its far from genial landlady. A reader expressed interest (wow) and it occurs to me that this system is probably as extinct as the dodo, and later generations may not even have heard of it.
   I would explain that I was posted from my home town of Plymouth to Portsmouth at the age of 18  by the Admiralty, for whom I was working at the time as an Assistant Armament Supply Officer, not as grand as it sounds! The Personnel office found me lodgings or `digs` in Lowcay Road, Southsea, run by a widow and her aged mother.  The house was a four bedroomed Victorian place, and provided bed, breakfast and evening meal at a modest price. There were three lodgers, me, Colin, who worked in the dockyard and a Navy Lieutenant. Colin and I had to share a bedroom, while the Lt had one of his own, but paid more. In theory, we could use the front room as a lounge, sharing with the family, but in practice this was discouraged by a wave of silent hostility which soon persuaded one to go up to your room, or better, to go out. The lounge had the only means of heating in the house, a small paraffin heater, which smelled abominably. Strangely, we did not feel hard-done-by by these conditions, every unmarried youth not living at home lived under these conditions, I suppose. Perhaps this was a method of encouraging matrimony or ensuring that the much more welcoming pubs were well patronised! Certainly I soon formed the habit of going out most nights, though I was never a big drinker, couldn`t afford it.
   On Saturdays and Sundays, there was a meal served at midday---but this was at the cost of the suppression of the evening meal, which I had to buy in a café. I can`t say that I look back on this establishment with nostalgia, though I did stay for a couple of years, through inertia, I believe now! They were not all as bad as this, I later stayed at a much more cheerful address run by an ex  CPO which was really something else. Looking back, it`s like another world.....

         Bye for now, going to sit by our OWN fire!

Three-score and ten...

    One of the benefits of Facebook is that you get loads of friends and family wishing you a happy birthday...but the drawback is they all seem to know which birthday it is! Still, I`m really not worried, and I don`t feel any older inside. My counterpart, Noah, was 600 years old when the Ark floated, so I`m really a spring chicken in comparison. If my health holds out I don`t care if I approach his very respectable total--after all he lived for a further 300 years or so, I have plenty of time!
    However, an advantage which doesn`t come from Facebook, is a sense of perspective; most situations you have seen before. This current cold snap is no new phenomenon to someone who has lived through the winter of 1962/63. I was living at Portsmouth at the time in  `digs` whose land-lady was more glacial than the weather. It started to snow on Christmas Eve when I was visiting my father at Plymouth. The snow was so bad I couldn`t get my car back to Portsmouth and had to return on the train, the heating of which failed at Exeter. It was two weeks later before I could re-patriate the Morgan, and the snow hung around the streets of Portsmouth until nearly April. I used to take the Dockyard harbour launch across to Priddy`s Hard at Gosport each day to work, and after a few days the harbour started to freeze up, salt water or no! I didn`t feel warm for months.. Had the choice of an Ariel motorcycle or the open Morgan, neither of which was a very comfortable transport. Nowadays I have never had it so good!Surviving this cool episode is a positive breeze!
 

Be Prepared!

I was never in the Scouts, I hasten to add, being far too individualistic, not to say bolshie, to accept to join any organisation which forced you to wear short pants and a woggle and chant weird slogans. Still, there is good in all things and their motto has a certain merit..I was led to muse on the need to prepare in advance when one lives in the country by the trials and tribulations of Piglet in France, an excellent blog I can thoroughly recommend. This poor girl who is a recent refugee from the town, is suffering a series of problems related to the cold snap. First she ran low on heating oil, and while arranging for a new consignment, started to run low on wood for the wood-burner as it was being used more intensively. When the oil was delivered, she had problems with the heating boiler refusing to work and turning itself off due to the low temperature(!) A C.H. boiler which works best in summer sounds as much use as a chocolate fireguard, doesn`t it? The wood delivery is still delayed, so she is in serious risk of no heat in a house with a small baby.
  We live some distance from the nearest town, and for shopping need to use our car. We try always to keep a stock of food and other necessities in the house in case of severe weather or mechanical breakdown. Each September, we arrange for our winter wood to be delivered and it is a fine feeling to know that it is on the premises and  we are safe from supply problems like poor Piglet`s. We also use a paraffin stove in severe weather and have laid in a stock of that. We are thus independent of outside supplies even of electricity. Perhaps we are paranoid, but things can go wrong as Piglet has proved and it is better to be safe than sorry.  Be prepared, right? Besides the météo is for snow tomorrow.

       Bye for now, going to fill the hot-water bottles!