Lusignan--town of the mermaid!

 Readers of my recent blogs will have found that one of our favourite occupations on a Sunday afternoon is to explore some of the local and not so local sights. Last Sunday I suggested trying Lusignan a town briefly visited by me some time ago but to which Kim had never been.
  We found it to be a very pleasant town. The centte is very picturesque, a medieval town of narrow alleys clustered round a very interesting ancient church. The is also a covered market with fine timber roof. Signs to the `vestiges` of a castle led us to explore further and we found substancial ruins of a very large castle constructed on the edge of a cliff. I was particularly struck by the rear entrance from the base of the cliff. If you entered a low doorway into a creepy passage you found a guardroom on the right and then the well of a spiral staircase leading to the top of the wall.
  A leaflet found in the church gave us some fascinating details of the town`s history. The lords of Lusignan dating from the Ninth Century built the enormous castle and later added the great church nearby. They later became even more rich and famous, and were Kings of Jerusalem and Cyprus during the Crusades. But what struck me most of their history was that they claim to be descended from the fairy mermaid Melusine, of King Arthur fame! the town name of Lussignan is derived from Melusignan, and the town and church have several statues and references to a rather scaly mermaid, not very attractive as a mate to my eyes!
 After a pleasant walk by the castle ruins we descended to the lower level at the base of the cliff and walked along the River Vonne which borders the town and which has a nice camp site on the river banks. On the way back to the car we met a pretty and friendly cat and had a job to dissaude her from coming with us. Altogether a most successful visit. We will be back!

     Bye for now

Costa?

 Here do you think these pictures were taken? No, it`s not on the Rivièra, despite the topless model!  Not even on the coast at all or on one of the lakes for which France is famous, but at a little village 15 minutes from here. A few years ago the village did not even have a lake , but the inhabitants decided to dam a little stream in a mashy area, and to landscape the resulting lake to form a fishing spot and a swimming pool. The lake is divided by a floating rope barrier so that on one side the local anglers can hunt the stocked trout and carp, and on the other they have tipped sand to form a beach for all the world as if you were at the seaside. The only things missing are the tides and the salt and personally I can well do without these. There is even a lifeguard.
   We discovered this idyllic spot soon after we bought our house here.  We had been going to the indoor swimming pool at Ruffec, which cost dear and was very crowded in the school hols. Someone told us about the lake at Les Gours and we drove about till we found it. Naturally we asked the lifeguard how much to come in and swim and were dumbfounded to be told it was free. Since then we have always used the lake (or plan d`eau as they call it here) All our visitors have been as charmed as we were to use this lovely spot.  A thousand thanks to the hospitable villagers of Les Gours!

 

It`s not always summer here!  The lake frozen over in winter.


     Off to bed soon!   Bye for now

Of Presidents and Kings

A cat may look at a king, the saying goes and perhaps sleep in the royal presence unconcerned with worldly pomp. There was no king to be seen in the great parade this morning on the Champs Elysée this morning to celebrate the 14th of July, France`s national day, the most important of the year. President Sarkozy took the salute of a selection of France`s formidable armed forces in an impressive demonstration of precision marching by soldiers, armoured vehiclesin close array, horses and a fly-by of aircraft. Most French men and women were bursting with pride and patriotism, despite sad news of the deaths of six young soldiers killed keeping the peace in afghanistan.
   The Quatorze marks the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille, the very start of France`s change from a monarchy to a republic. Despite some temporary restorations and empires, it so remains to this day, and proud of it.
   Is a republic the best system of government, you ask? Darned if I know! Basically there are three systems you can choose, a hereditary monarchy, where the King succeeds by birth from his father, the similar dictatorship, often passing on by the same system, or a democracy ,where the population choose their government. This is said to be the fairest, but it does have its disadvantages. To be in government or to be president, you have to convince the electorate that you will be better than the last lot, and the sight of politicians promising improvements they have little hope in keeping and denigrating the efforts of their opponents is not an edifying spectacle.As the voters are basically selfish, the promises are of the `bread and circuses` type already known to the Romans.
  Would it not be better and cheaper to have a wise and benign Leader to lead his nation to better things? But there`s the rub, who would choose this patriarch ( or matriarch, sorry, feminists!) and even more important how to get rid of him|her if unsatisfactory?  Gaddafi is a case in point!
   Perhaps a democracy, either a republic or a constitutional monarchy to water down presidential self-importance, is the least unsatisfactory of the available systems! What do you think? Suggestions would be welcome...

                Bye for now (it`s bedtime....)
                  

Storm 2

Some of you may have been surprised to find a title`Storm!!` on the blog with no content... Well there is,of course a perfectly good explanation.  I was in course of writing a gripping account of the storm we had here yesterday morning when the internet went down and to re-establish it I had to quit the Blogspot programme. Although I tried to make a copy of my effort,and did in fact create a document, this was not sufficient and all my efforts to recreate the blog were in vain. All that was left was the title! If you want to read the magnum opus you will have to call round, we will give you a cup of tea..

  We did in fact have quite a storm. I was awoken at about 5 am by torrential rain and a lightning flash. I hurried down to pull out the computers and found Laika in a state, she hates thunder. I had to let her out of her sleeping-cage and comfort her as best I could. She does not like to get on knees normally and you can tell she is frightened when she climbs on.
  We had about 2 inches of rain, sorely needed.  I measure rain by the depth I have to tip out of the sheep`s dishes, a rough and ready yardstick which nevertheless gives a good indication. Our out-buildings were a bit damp but nothing to worry about and at least the house is waterproof. It`s back to normal weather tonight, a beautiful evening. Vive la France!!


                      Bye for now!
  

Storm!!!

Surbiton-sur-Charente

One of our favorite pastimes on a sunny afternoon is to do a bit of local exploring. We have a look in the Michelin, choose a likely looking area in the region , link up the GPS (or Satnav to anglophones)  and set off to see what is to be seen. In this way we have found lots of charming places and some that were not what the map suggested!  I often choose villages on the Charente, our local big river and one of my absolute favorite watercourses.
   Yesterday our choice fell upon Vouleme, a small town which seemed to be in a meander of the river and we set out to drive there, via Taizé Aizé, a town whose name proved more picturesque than the reality, though it was pretty in a small way. continuing on, we arrived at Vouleme.
   The little town did impress us with a certain charm. It is built in a steep valley of the Charente with rocky cliffs on one side and a many-arched bridge crossing the river. The other side is more at river level with a grassy car park next to the water and a chinese-looking footbridge over the flow. We parked in the car-park, where some sort of event was taking place, or rather had taken place as the stalls were closing down. But what struck us both forcibly was that all the participants were English. We could have been in Surrey at a town fete!  Totally surreal..  On investigating I saw several posters in the English-registered cars scattered about advertising a summer fair. The poster was totally in English and made no mention of the organisation`s name.  Very odd.

  The final piece of the puzzle was found when we walked into the little town. The large local restaurant was called EDNA`S and was advertising `Sunday Lunch`.
  I really don`t know if this little town has been taken over by the English aliens, or whether we happened to call when the local WI branch was holding its annual fete. If anyone knows, please tell me.

     Bye for now

Artistic Farmers

I love living in France and perhaps more than that, I love living in the countryside. Of course, most of the charm of the countryside lies in  the fields and the crops growing in them. Who can resist the sight of a field of wheat all tender green as the new crop sprouts in the Spring?  Or the sight of the same crop, fully ripened by the sun and waving in the breeze ready for the combine? Or the field after `all has been safely gathered in` when the golden stubble is cut as evenly as a blonde crew-cut with just the bales of straw scattered haphazardly here and there?
  Or more exotic crops like the rows of vines lined up ready for trimming of the over-exuberant leaves   and the eventual harvest of the green or purple bunches often seen in our region. The farmers seem to take a delight in doing everything so regularly and precisely. I was even told the other day when looking at a newly-planted field of vines that the rows are positioned by GPS !
  And surely the French farmer has some exceptionally pretty crops! What could be more beautiful than a field of sunflowers? Or the paler yellow of the unfortunately-named oil-seed rape? In the spring we can see fields of bright blue which are the Alfalfa fodder crop or a duller mauve of hemp or flax. I am really coming to believe that the French farmer is a repressed artist, using his fields to paint an acres-wide canvas.

     To emphasize my theory, what do you think of this? Surely nobody could plant such a crop just to turn a mundane profit!
`Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty`. The farmers should be praised to the skies for the visual treats they give us!!


     Bye for now