The Mille-feuille Mystery

Once again I have been a bit tardy in keeping up with this blog. This is partly due to having so much fun on our recent trip to Roquefort and partly as we have been so busy getting Sian organised and settled in to University.

Before we left Villefranche-du-Perigord we went to the Bio Marche at Goujenac on the Saturday morning after being told about it by our very like-minded neighbours Pierre and Violaine. Violaine’s friend Julie has a stall there selling natural skin products called Plantes Vagabondes, so I was keen to have a look at this. I was intrigued by her Sagresse range which helps with menopause, and deciding that as I had been a bit grumpy of late it might be a good idea to try this out. So, I bought the Sagresse set of the tea and an elixir.

We had an amusing conversation in Fronglais – with me asking if it helped bad moods. She didn’t really understand me until I done the hand actions of an attacking lion – accompanied by a loud “Grrrr” then she laughed and said “oui! It will help”. I took my purchases over to show Martin and then using good old Google Translate had a look at which herbs were in the tea.

I was quite confused to see Millefeuille on the label as I had always understood this to be a French pastry, so I done a bit of research and found that that it’s the French for Yarrow – which I had heard of before – but still found it confusing that it was called the same as a cake.

Then on the Saturday evening we attended the opening of the new Bistro – O Faim Gout’R – in the village. Being such a small village, it is always extremely exciting when a new business opens up – and this was no exception. This event was actually just the “inauguration” – the Grand Opening was to be the Monday evening – but we would already be gone by then. So, we went down for a few drinks and enjoyed some of the lovely canapes on offer. We were really pleased to see there were some veggie options – which gives us great hope that we will be able to support this new venture. My favourite of the canapes was the Mille-feuille a l’italienne which was sliced aubergine, mozzarella and tomato. Really lovely! But still, a little confusing about the word mille-feuille being used to describe something savoury – after all it is a cake “n’est-ce pas?”

We reflected that there must now be enough bars in the village to have a bar crawl, so vowed to arrange one of these when we get back from our UK trip at the end of September. The trouble with rural French villages as far as bar crawls are concerned is that they all shut by about 8pm! Never mind – we will just have to start at 4pm!!

Anyway, on the Monday (3^rd September) we headed off to Roquefort to find out more about the legend of the famous cheese and to buy some of said cheese to celebrate my dad’s life. I was really excited about the cheese. Martin was really excited about being so close to the Millau Bridge as he has always wanted to see it. So, we planned to drive over it no matter what the route was – but first the cheese!!

We arrived late afternoon on a Monday, so predictably everywhere was closed – it’s a really small village – much smaller than you might imagine for such a famous place. So, we amused ourselves with a stroll up the hill – passing a Pizzeria on the way up (“no Martin I am going to cook a nice healthy meal in the motorhome when we get back”) – and then back down the hill – the Pizzeria now really tempting us – “OK then – just a quick look on the menu” – then – “Roquefort and Walnuts?” “mmmmm that sounds good!! OK then”!!

20 minutes later we were tucking in to the most seriously good pizza combo I have EVER experienced!! Let me tell you!! This pizza was THE SECOND BEST EVER. (The first best pizza was, and always will be the one we had at Lake Garda based purely on the location and it being my first Italian pizza in Italy).

Next day we went off to explore the famous producers of Roquefort. We had already heard of Roquefort Societe and Papillion, but there are also Carles, Gabriel Coulet, Occitanes, Vernieres and Le Vieux. Pretty much all there is at Roquefort is the cheese caves – each producer having their own shop, exhibition and caves. We decided to visit the Papillion one – based solely on the fact that I love butterflies and also it was the first one we came to (and that hill was steep).

I wasn’t able to visit the caves as there are 200 steps and with my knee in a brace, and only able to climb or descend steps like a three-year-old (both feet one at a time on each step) we decided that I would leave this to Martin. However, the staff put on an English video for me which I sat and watched whilst Martin went on the guided tour in to the caves, and the doggos sat nicely in the porch outside.It was fascinating to learn about the production, and after I had watched the the staff asked me if I would like to sample each of the different Roquefort they make. You bet I would. Explaining that it had been my dad’s favourite cheese I told the staff why we had made this little pilgrimage and that we had heard the legend of Roquefort – I asked if it was true what we had heard.

“Nearly one hundred years ago, a shepherd went off for his day’s work, with his cheese sandwich made with rye bread and sheep’s cheese wrapped in paper for his lunch. Distracted by a pretty girl he left his sandwich in a cave and went off to pursue her. When he returned month’s later he found his sandwich and bit in to it. It was delicious and he then discovered that the cheese had reacted with the bacteria from the mould on the rye bread to make the blue/green veined cheese”

The staff confirmed this was absolutely true!!

And so, Roquefort cheese was born. These days the production is virtually the same as back then. Rye loaves are baked and the powder from this is used to create the bacteria that makes the mould. The wheels of cheese are stored in the caves to mature. The caves in Roquefort are totally unique in that the air flow created by the gaps in the cave roofs are exactly what is needed to create the required humidity.

It was all very interesting to learn all about this, but I doubt very much if that is why it was Dad’s favourite cheese – I bet it was the same reason that I love it – because it tastes so flipping great!! We bought loads of it!! And bought it back to the UK to share with our nearest and dearest (the ones who like stinky cheese anyway).

We went for lunch at a small creperie and were seriously impressed on two counts – first of all the food was great – we shared a Salade Roquefort et Noix, and a Roquefort Gallette (a buckwheat savoury crepe). Both really good.

Then followed by a local delicacy – a sort of baked cheesecake – made with sheeps cheese.

Sharon eating pudding — I know I don’t look THAT impressed but that is just because I hate having my photo taken when eating

But also because the man running the place was doing it single handedly – he was seating people, cooking the food, serving it to the tables, taking payment, and all with a smile!! He really did put some other people (who shall not be named) to shame for their service.

Sitting later on that afternoon, reading the multitude of information leaflets we had picked up, I came across THAT word again. This time as a description to the layers of the cave formation. Mille-feuille!! You can see the layers in the photo.

I said to Martin – this word Mille-feuille – it’s following me around – all week it keeps cropping up. How can it be the word for yarrow, and the word for a canape, AND the word for a cake, AND the word for layers of rock?

So, we looked in to it and found out that the Latin word for yarrow is Achillea Millefolium – and the species name millefolium refers to the “thousand leaves” of yarrow.

So now it all makes sense…………….

So, next thing on my “to do list” when we are back in France will be to have a Mille-feuille pastry and then I will have had a complete set – unless of course anyone knows any other uses for the word?

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Wherever I lay my hat…………

Wherever I lay my hat…..

We are a family of hat lovers!! Sian in particular – who has worn a hat of some kind since she was a cute little bubba and had no hair. Carol and Bernard remember Sian from when she visited in 2010 purely on the merits of the little trilby that she used to wear back then.

Hat collage — Even Luka joins in with hat fun!!

I also love hats, but don’t wear them all the time, but Martin on the other hand is very rarely without his hat. Either the winter hat – which is leather, or in summer the lighter material one – but each of them is a distinctive cowboy hat. We call both of them the Gruffalo hat – but the reason for that is an entirely different story.

Gruffalo hats collage — Gruffalo sporting his summer and winter collection

So, my point is really that Martin is easily identifiable by his hat. Which became amusingly apparent this week. But first I need to re-wind a little bit to Friday morning. I’ve been slow to get up in the mornings due to my knee, and Martin has been on dog walking duties as I am not allowed to walk. So he got up, and said he was going to walk the dogs by the lake, use the village toilets (stink them out instead of the motorhome) and did I want anything from the Boulangerie. We only have Pain au Raisin once or twice a week now – on Saturday and sometimes Sunday – as they have about eleventy billion calories each, and we also have stopped buying bread on a daily basis as it’s helping to pile the weight on me. Martin knows this so it really irritated me that he asked about the Boulangerie as once he’d mentioned it I then started thinking about big, juicy raisins in sticky soft squidgey dough….mmmmm….but NO I was to resist it – so I snapped a resolute

“NO THANK YOU but if YOU want something you can get one I suppose CAN’T you”

Martin said that he had just fancied a pain au raisin but he would wait for the weekend. “There you go AGAIN” I said grumpily, “making me want one”. The almost certain knowledge that my current level of inactivity would inevitably pile on the pounds was making me very sensitive.

Anyway, Martin went for the dog walk and nothing more was said. He came back and ate the breakfast that I made for him – chocolate museli from the Bio Coop (a bit like Holland and Barratt meets Rice Up Whole Foods) with fat free yogurt and a melange (assortment) of fresh fruit. Not one word was uttered about the boulangerie, and I had forgotten all about it by then.

So…………..later on that day we had called in to see Carol and Bernard as he was still under the weather. As we were leaving some other visitors turned up – 2 ladies and a man – and we were all introduced to each other by Carol. As we were outside Martin had his hat on. One of the ladies said “I recognise you from the village this morning”. Martin shifted un-easily and said “no, I don’t think so”. “Yes I do – the boulangerie!! You were there this morning – I recognise your hat” she said – pointing to his hat!! Ahh!! The cat was out of the bag – or rather out of the hat!! Martin’s face was a picture!! Guilty as charged!! I found it all highly amusing of course!! That’ll teach him to wear the Gruffalo hat!

Four amigos — The Four Amigos – reunited once again!! I have a huge soft spot for these two extra doggos!!

Saturday – we went back to Beaumont to do some more house sitting. We were greeted like long lost friends by Woody and Belle, and soon the four doggos were once again the four amigos. However, Victoria the goat has now gone to live with some other goatie friends in her new home. I was sad to hear this but very pleased that she is happier with some of her own kind that just the chickens to live with. This means the chickens are now free range, and have the run of the whole place so Luka and Lillie have had a sharp lesson on not chasing chickens. To give them their due they both picked this lesson up very quickly after the threat of a certain and painful tortuous death was made to them by Martin.

As vegetarians (with vegan leanings) we are very conscientious about eating eggs, and try very hard to make sure that we only eat eggs from chickens we know personally and are well looked after. So, we were very pleased that the backyard girls done their thing and produced 3 eggs for us. Breakfast was scrambled egg on toast quite literally straight from the source. Lovely!!

Egg collage — The Backyard Girls doing their thing!!

We had a lovely time with Woody and Belle, so much so that when we were packing up the motorhome ready to leave and Woody jumped in as if to say “where are we going on hollibobs Auntie Sharon” it was really hard to not accidentally on purpose forget to tell him to get out.

Woody in motorhome — Where are we going on holibobs Auntie Sharon?

Later today, we are meeting up with the kit house builder and the architect again and going to see two houses that they have built using the SIPS panels. So hopefully soon there will be some more news on this soon.

But on a more personal note, today marks the 5^th anniversary of my dad’s death. The last day of August. I’ll never forget that day. We were in France then as we are now, but that time we were in the Ardennes and just 2 days from being back in the UK. Dad had a consultant appointment in Canterbury and James and I had gone with him. The scan results had revealed that his Stage 4 lung cancer had spread to his brain. A really horrible end to a really horrible cancer journey. At the end of the appointment I had asked for a private word with the consultant. Dad went out with James and when he was gone I asked the dreaded question, explaining that we had a holiday booked – would Dad be around when we got back or did he have less time?. The consultant said that he probably had 1 – 2 months left – maybe less, and to talk to Dad. So that evening, without saying the blatantly obvious “are you going to die when I am away?” I broached the subject with Dad. He was very quick to say that he wanted us to go to France, but only on one condition – that we brought him back some of his favourite cheese. Dad was always a huge cheese lover – as am I – and as far as I knew he liked all cheese, and didn’t particularly have a favourite. “Which one is it” I asked. He said he couldn’t quite remember but it was strong and he thought the name began with R. So, a few days later Martin and I drove off with our landrover and trailer tent on a mission to bring back some cheese beginning with the letter R.

Landrover and trailer tent — See the size of the fridge!! It was literally full of cheese!!

We travelled the length of France right down to the Alps, and every supermarket trip would yield a search for cheeses. I bought some of each….Reblochon, Raclette, Rochebarron. Not convinced it actually began with R I bought others – Saint Paulo, Camembert, Brie. By the time we headed back to the UK our trailer tent fridge was filled with a whole variety of fromages – each wrapped in white waxed paper, and stinking the whole place out! My plan was to take it all back to Dad and let him sample them all and decide which it was.

We knew in our heart of hearts that we were taking a bit gamble on being away, but each phone call suggested that even though Dad was clearly not in good health, he was stable and mostly still living at home with some respite at the local hospice to help him cope with breathing difficulties.

Even so, when we got the phone call that morning from James part of my heart knew what it would be. Yes, he had taken his last breath – quietly and peacefully – while all of us were elsewhere – James, Nicola and Henry on the train to the Butterfly Museum, and us in France. And after the initial upset I’ll be buggered if I didn’t have as clear as a bell in my ears – the bloody cheese – it’s ROQUEFORT!!

It was suddenly so obvious!! Every time we had seen them there was always St Agur to spread over crackers – but of course St Agur is not truly a Roquefort – although in France many cheeses do claim to be. There is only place that it is made and that is Rouquefort-sur-Soulzon.

Recently we were told the legend of Roquefort, and partly because of that and partly because I now always have a proper, sentimental association with Roquefort and my dad, we have decided that we are going to go over to Roquefort-sur-Soulzon for a few days to find out more about it before heading back to the UK to settle number 1 daughter (only daughter Sian) into Uni.

So……there will be more about that next time.

Oh, and just in case you are wondering what happened to all the cheese – we ate it over the period of a good few days, and from that a tradition has been created in that to mark Dad’s birthday, his absence at Christmas, and the anniversary of his death I do a little cheeseboard, light a candle and enjoy a little bit of Roquefort in his honour!! Bon Appetit Dad!!

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018

We ‘Mite’ be Buggered

We ‘Mite be Buggered’

The week before last we had a bit of respite from suffocating in the heat in the motorhome (and being on top of each other getting grumpy) because we went to Beaumont-du-Perigord for a house sitting assignment. The English homeowners got to go back to the UK for a few days and we got to use their lovely Perigordian house and all it’s facilities, and look after their menagerie of animeaux. They have Woody, a Rottweiler crossed with German Shepherd Dog, Belle, a Black Labrador, a goat called Victoria and 3 hens and a rooster!!

Collage of animal antics — Belle and Wood do not understand the concept of “human only” furniture and Victoria enjoys a round of parcour

Our dogs came too and the 4 of them got on brilliantly which was fantastic as it meant we could go on a drama free 5km walk each morning on a lovely circuit which took us up a steep hill, pass a lavabo (that translates to bathroom sink but it’s actually a dog dip), and round past some lovely fields of baby sunflowers and rural houses. Each walk gave us new and fresh ideas for our own house plans.

The animals had come with written and verbal instructions and I had remembered the house owner telling me that they were not allowed on the sofas. I hadn’t remembered though that she had said they were allowed on their own sofa. So, imagine the looks of disgust on Woody and Belle’s faces when I walked in to the living room – saw them on the small sofa and said in the firm dog owner voice “are you allowed to be up there”? Looks of guilt appeared on their little faces. “Get down off there”. Looks of confusion on their little faces. Then “come on – down now”. They both jumped down and huffed into a heap on the floor together. That made me think I should check – so I sent a message – oh dear!! Yes, they are allowed on that sofa!! So, back in the living room “apparently you are allowed on there Woody and Belle so you can get back up”. Bemused looks from the two doggos but up they did jump – although they did give me some sideways glances at times over the next few days as if to check out the new “rules” that had been instated.

We had a lovely few days in the area and bonded with all the animals. I particularly loved Woody, and I think Luka was getting a bit jealous and fearful for his place as my “top dog”. I also adored looking after Victoria and loved her funny little face when I hand fed her toast (she kind of pouts and clicks her tongue).

Also, of great novelty value to us was to be able to use an oven without roasting ourselves too – so I made veggie lasagne, and moussaka in the Le Creuset pots in the range cooker – and dreamed of a time not too far away when I can do this in my own kitchen.

Veggie mousakka — Yummy! And topped with English cheddar cheese which was a gift from the house owners!!

We also visited an English carpenter who is working on a timber framed house in the local area, and it was really helpful to see the infrastructure in this half-finished state to get a clearer picture of how it all works. We are definitely moving away from the brick-built concept back to our original thoughts of timber framed, although I now realise that you can have timber frame with different finishes outside – for example rendered, so if we want to move away from the wooden cabin look we can. At the moment we are undecided.

We have also met with a French company who specialised in timber framed kit houses this week – English guys but have been established in France for 8 years – and this is a promising proposition which we are going to explore in more detail.

One of the nicest things about house sitting was the respite from the constant itch/scratch cycle that I have been plagued with for the past few weeks. Away from the land I noticed that I was not so itchy, but disappointingly when we returned the itching returned with a vengeance. Strangely all the bites on me were in the really awkward places of bra straps, and knicker lines – which puzzled me and so after a few days of suffering in silence I decided to research. I quite literally done a Google search of the words “insect bites on knicker line and bra straps” and came back with the horrific find that my symptoms matched those of harvest mite infestation. It’s common for dogs to also get this at the same time so Luka and Lillie were checked and yes indeed the poor little buggers have the tell-tale signs.

It’s no surprise really when you think we are living in woodland – and harvest mites tend to live in the long grass at the edge of woodland. Well, we are chopping down the “edge of our woodland” on a daily basis. So, the darling little mites are becoming homeless and jumping on us all.

So, a trip to the pharmacy and an amusing 3-way conversation between the pharmacy assistant, Mr Google and myself took place. I came away with cream for me, and spray for my clothes that reassuring will prevent me getting lyme madness it seems.

The doggos were taken to see our neighbour Bernard who is one of the village vets – for an informal consultation which confirmed this – and his advice was to go the vets and get insecticide shampoo. He was very nonchalant about it, explaining the mites are everywhere and its just part of living in woodland. It will get better when we have less rough ground and more surfaced areas – so the next step we think it to build a timber deck on which eventually a summer house will go which will give us some normality of living whilst we pursue this.

So, anyway the doggos each got a luxury spa treatment.

Collage of doggo spas — Luka tolerates his spa bath…Lillie on the other hand absolutely lapped it up!! Look at that face!!

Wednesday 15^th August was the Fete Votive (Festival of Light), which is a bank holiday in France. In the afternoon there were some “Inter Village Games” at the Rugby Stade and we went down there to have a look. It was very amusing to see grown men and women doing the sack race. And then in the evening, as well as music and dancing down in the village there was also a firework display over the Plan D’Eau (the lake) at 11pm. We noticed that there were some barricades ready in place for the roads around the lake to be closed off for the fireworks and as the only way up to our track was along one of these roads we needed to decide on whether to stay down until it all finished or go up earlier. Being a pair of old farts, we had already gone up home by about 10pm and was having a cup of tea when the first fireworks went off. We couldn’t quite see the fireworks through the trees so walked down the track a bit to get a better view and were treated to an awesome display from the opposite side and a higher perspective that the rest of the audience. It was only after it all finished that we contemplated that we were quite probably dangerously close to the fireworks and had the H&S been done in England the four houses up our track would probably have been evacuated as well as the road closures – C’est La Vie.

Here’s my video of the finale of the firework display https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkC-5fkd7v8&feature=share

Sians results — So proud of our clever girl!

Last Thursday was Sian’s A Level Results and when she phoned me to let me know she had achieved the best possible results in both subjects – A* in Psychology and Double Distinction Star in Health and Social Care – we both had a few tears and a few whoops of joy, and then realising I had not got a card ready to send to her I craftily tried to fob her off by sending her this video and telling her I had arranged for fireworks to celebrate!! She wasn’t falling for it – she’s a clever girl is Sian – she was top of her year in Psychology!!

We did have rather a big blow this last week when the knee pain I have had for a few weeks got suddenly much, much worse and last Friday when I bent down in our tiny little shower cubicle it popped and the pain was excruciating and I simply could not get up again without letting out some very blue expletives. A few days of hobbling around and I made my first visit to the French doctors. Luckily, she spoke a little English, and with our pre-prepared account of my symptoms on Martin’s tablet thanks to Mr Google, and a very thorough examination she made her diagnosis. As she pulled a face and made the sign of a cross over my knee I feared the worst!! Maybe my leg will have to come off I thought!! But fortunately, she was trying to explain that I have a sprained cruciate ligament in my right knee!! It’s not torn yet (thank goodness) and hopefully with a leg brace on for at least 3 weeks and the minimum of walking possible for at least 2 weeks followed by physio it should heal. I’m gutted to say the least. It’s not the best news where there is so much to do here on the land, but hopefully although for the time being I “mite be buggered” (see that play on words – I’m not illiterate as you may have first thought upon reading the blog title) – in the longer term I’m sure my ‘jambe bionique’ will sort me out.

Jambe bionique — Bang goes my chances of having a bikini body for the rest of the summer. What with the harvest mite bites on my torso and a white patch on my legs!!

What bastard chose this route?

Last week saw the event that we have all been training for in our daily early morning walks and twice weekly runs. The Trail du Pays du Chataignier!! This was the 6^th event of its kind and is an annual trail running event. Participants can take part in a 12km or a 25km run, or a 12km walk. Initially Nikki, Carol and myself were to enter the walking event, with Martin entering the 12km run and Steve entering the 25km run. However, for various reasons none of us girls entered, leaving Martin and Steve to do it. Oh, and 175 other runners of course!!

The name of the trail translates to the Trail of the Chestnut Land, and it takes people through some beautiful Dordogne countryside – from Villefranche du Perigord, through Besse and Loubejac, and back to Villefranche du Perigord (VduP). During our Thursday and Sunday training runs we have all grown to know the hill that takes you back into the village. It is a horrible hill!! Far, far worse than my previous nemesis of a hill in Ramally Copse which took me years of trying before I could run up comfortably without stopping. It’s not the only hill on the route – far from it, but being at the end whatever run you have done makes it particularly horrible.

So, race day came. I was not taking part at all due to my knee hurting like crazy (see previous blog Bonjour, Buongiorno and Allo Allo), so I took my decent camera down to get some snaps and support the boys. Steve suggested that I go to the front of his house to take the photos of the runners coming down the dreaded hill, which I did. Unfortunately, Martin had told me that the grumpy old French man with the little dog who often trips me up when I hobble up “that hill” is Steve’s next-door neighbour. This is partly what caused what happened next. I saw Claude (the grumpy old French man) in his forecourt, so said a cheery Bonjour to him and ducked straight in the next forecourt without paying much attention to my whereabouts. The only place to tether the dogs was the front door handle, and I noticed the door came open a little bit. Dogs hooked up, I got my kit out and my position ready. Next thing is the dogs are moving around and knocking the door, then a lady opened the door, jumped out of her skin at the two dogs – who had started to jump up at her!! She said “is there a problem?”, and I said “is this Steve’s house”. No!! Oh dear!! I realised what I had done and began to explain. Luckily, she saw the funny side of my mistake, and her husband and daughter came out for a chat and I was offered tea, and water for the dogs. Steve’s house was actually the one next door to that….so I set up base there instead and got some good shots of the runners coming down the hill at the beginning of the event.

The first few back over the finish line were so quick I actually missed them whilst I was having a Café au Longueur outside the Boulangerie, so I drank up quickly and went to the finish line to catch the rest coming in. Martin finished in an impressive 74 minutes – position 99 overall.

On Thursday when we were having our post run coffee at the Café du Commerce the Maire came over to chat to us as he often does (he’s really friendly, and it’s not at all like the Mayor of Portsmouth or Southampton coming over to say hello) and he told Steve (in French) the funny story of what had happened during the race.

Maire and Norman — The guy on the left is our Maire – see he’s really very normal looking. The guy on the right is Norman – he is the butcher. Obviously I don’t really like the concept of butchers (being a veggie) but he is rather lovely!!

Claude (the Maire – not the grumpy old French man with the little dog – trust me there are LOTS of French men called Claude) was running along and a young lady was running at the same pace as him so they chatted. She said the route was beautiful but really hard and hilly, and said “what bastard chose this route?”. Claude said nothing, even though as Maire of VduP it was indeed his choice of route ha ha. Later on, after a bit more chat it was divulged that he was the Maire and then apparent to the young lady what a faux pas she had made!!

It was really hot on the day of the running, and continued to be until a huge thunder storm broke the run of hot weather on Wednesday night/Thursday morning. 2 weeks of blistering heat had begun to takes it’s toll though. It was hard to see at the time, but now that we are back to a much more moderate mid to late 20’s, I can reflect that the weather was really getting to us. We were arguing and bickering constantly!! About everything!! And I was honestly wondering if we were doing the right thing, whether France was right for us, whether we were right for France. But now, sense of humour firmly back in place and things are much more normal. However, I think it’s fair to say that it is indeed a challenge to be living in a 15 square metre motorhome which has no air conditioning, and is crammed full to bursting point. In 35-degree weather it’s like an oven, and watching the thermometer rise to 45 degrees inside makes you feel like you are being cooked alive, even though I bought some little USB charged fans back from the Lake Garda holiday, all they do is make it in to a fan assisted oven by blowing the hot air around!! Night times were hot and sticky (in all the wrong ways), itchy and unbearable, and definitely not an environment conducive to constructive, sensible planning decision making conversations.

So…little was done. But, hey ho!! At least we didn’t decide to throw the towel in (as was certainly going through my head a lot) and also, thankfully I didn’t end up like poor Mrs Turtle who was killed by her husband after a dream move to France to set up a Chambres D’hote business went horribly wrong and he drove over her in his Mercedes after a row. Local neighbours say she wanted him to sell it to pay for a pool but he wouldn’t!! Take a look and see what you think? https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-derbyshire-39886619

The heat makes people do crazy things! It is not all perfectly polished toe nails, hovering tantalisingly teasingly over a glistening pool in the #lovemynewlifeinFrance Facebook posts. There’s a lot of ducks living over here I reckon….gliding serenely over the pond, but beneath the water their little feet are paddling furiously as they try to keep their heads above water. There is no shame in admitting that this can be a hard life at times so I think it is a great shame that people sometimes do not open up to others and admit to this.

Martin and I have had lots of conversations since the inception of this Project and are still firm in our decision that we want to be building a modestly size house that will be sustainable and cost effective for our future. Now that the weather has cooled down and we are back into the swing of things we have been talking to different builders about different options. There is a set of regulations which all new builds currently have to be built to – RT2012. The finished project results in a house which costs minimal money to run – however, the new regulations that will come in to place in 2020 will yield houses that cost nothing to run!! The prospect of this is really exciting as we would have no energy bills – well yes gas if we used that to cook – but no electricity. So, we are currently exploring this.

Meanwhile we endeavour to keep our little camping spot as homely looking as possible. Now that I have the summer kitchen in an event tent, and the new bench that Martin bought I thought it would be nice to go out an buy a few cheap bits and pieces to make it look nice.

These things included 4 metre of wipe clean table cloth.

The design I chose appealed to me for two reasons. Firstly, it was only 2 euros a metre (which as it’s being used outside makes sense as it won’t last forever, and secondly because it has chickens on it!!

The wording Belle Cocotte meant, or so I thought Beautiful Chicken. But, after spending loads of time cutting it up and artistically draping it over every conceivable surface can you imagine how we, as VEGETARIANS, felt to discover that it actually means “Beautiful Casserole). Poor Chicken!!

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018

Bonjour, Buongiorno and Allo Allo

I’m sitting outside writing this in 35° heat and it is nearly 9pm!! It’s been too hot to write, too hot to type, too hot to do anything really. But, as it is a few weeks since I last blogged I thought I should get up to date.

I’ve been away on a little break to Italy with my daughter Sian to celebrate the end of her A Levels and spend a bit of quality mother and daughter time before she heads off to Uni in September. We went to Lake Garda where I was spoilt with the luxury of air conditioning, a shower that spouted forth a continuous supply of water for as long as desired, and a swimming pool! All of this was very much appreciated after a few months of living in the motorhome. As were the spectacular views of Lake Garda every time we went out – such a stunning place to visit.

As always “Gaffe Femme” managed to sustain a few holiday injuries as seems to be inevitable. This time it was (in no particular order)

a burst blood vessel in my left eye which rendered me looking like a vampire for the first 3 days. This was very unfortunate when meeting our fellow hotel guests as they probably thought I was straight out of the Twilight series – or a very heavy drinker!!
a bruised left foot which made walking and jogging painful, and sadly climbing up Monte Baldo totally unachievable
gastric issues of an unidentified nature. My hunch is that it was the red wine vinegar I put on my salad the first night but whatever it was it lasted for 5 out of the 7 days of the holiday and took two lots of over the counter medication to get sorted out, but luckily no need to see an Italian doctor
sore right knee – not sure what happened here but I think it has just come out in sympathy for my left foot

So, let’s just say that I had more than my fair share of unwanted attention whilst hobbling around the hotel with my blood shot eye, grimacing face (from the stomach issues) and limping (from the bruised foot and sore knee).

As well as the injuries sustained we also had a number of “near death” experiences which were fondly referred to by everyone at our dinner table (we were seated with two other pairs as a table of 6) as ND’s. Every evening the other 4 people would enquire if we had had any more ND’s and laugh about our antics. The most significant of the NDs was probably when I nearly drowned off the back of a pedalo!!

At the time it was really, really scary, but we were soon laughing about it!! The most serious ND involved a trip to a public toilet in pitch black….but that really is another story for another time.

Sian was keen to practice her Italian, especially having just had a week in Sorrento already, and a further trip to Venice planned. I imagine by the end of the summer she will live up to the song by Bananarama Robert De Niro’s Waiting

Unlike me of course…. who after a few months of desperately trying to learn a few words of French got completely confused by having to say Buongiorno instead of Bonjour and Si instead of Oui. In shops I was saying Merci Beaucoup instead of Grazia much to the bemusement of people.

Never mind…. now I am back I can concentrate on acting out the lead character in ‘Allo ‘Allo once again!! Already I have been mocked by the old French man at the market for not understanding him talking to me in English.

So, now I am back to no air con and sleepless nights, and the closest thing to a swimming pool is the little paddling pool area I created this week. But it does the job – keeps me cool. We felt bad having our own little pool whilst the doggos were so hot though – so we got them one each as well!! Luka took to it like a duck to water (so to speak) but Lillie was a bit more difficult to persuade to keep still.

However, there was a rather lovely surprise awaiting me when I got back. Martin had done loads of work, levelling off part of the land enough to park the motorhome actually on the plot instead of on the track next to it. And, he had added a few special touches to it – an event shelter to give us a summer kitchen and a new bench. When you have been living on a track for 6 weeks believe me, it is very special to then actually be properly situated on the land that we now actually own!! Yippee!!

Oh, that and a special welcome home dinner!! Martin was in my very good books for at least a day or so for all of that

– but it was soon back to beating him into working hard on the land and this week and seen a lot of hard graft. Some small trees being chain sawed, a composting system made out of old pallets, and the start of a rear walk way at the back boundary being made so that the young children from next door and the lovely, but increasingly aging Alice, will still be able to have a snicket (i) short cut through to the village without encroaching on our privacy.

Our surroundings are constantly changing and evolving and the landscape is not staying the same for a moment. It’s hard to believe that it is just a year since we called by here for “old times sake” to see what had become of Dad and Ann’s forgotten land and now, here is something completely transformed from what it was then, even when they were working on the land it was not then as clear as it is now.

And it’s not just our land that changes the landscape and outlook. The meadow opposite belonging to Madame C (the Portuguese lady) has now been strimmed by her son on his annual month-long visit from Mauritius – and we woke one morning to the sight and sound of a field of sheep. We honestly don’t need any animals of our own to make it feel like we are living on a small holding (but don’t tell that to Luka and Lillie – they might feel under threat of eviction).

(i) Snicket – cut through/alley way as used by people from Ooop North

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018

Oi you! Get orf my land!

It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind since we’ve been back on French soil. Our trip down went well, with me following Martin in the new pick up truck. My first time ever at doing the long drive, and apart from a few tense moments involving large trucks and a miscommunication between us as to how long a chain of vehicles I was prepared to risk my life for in overtaking, it was OK – better than I had anticipated really.

The 3 Amigos

Once back in Villefranche-du-Perigord our first priority was to report for housesitting duties for Sue and Paul in Fraysinnet – we were looking after their super cute little wire-haired dachshund called Prune overnight whilst they went off and had some fun. This meant we had the use of their house – including jet propelled shower and a swimming pool – which was brilliant. The weather was not as hot as it had been for the few days beforehand – but still warm enough for me to make very good use of the pool – although Martin couldn’t be tempted in.

Then we spend the weekend busy strimming back some of the brambles and weeds that seem to grow back as soon as we look away for just a few minutes. We remember very well Dad and Ann saying that their frequent trips back to the UK resulted in a perpetual battle of the brambles. We are determined to get a sensible balance between visiting those we love and actually really starting to forge out a life for ourselves here and not let the grass grow under our feet too much.

Monday was a momentous day indeed!! We had our appointment with the Notaire to complete the transfer of land ownership. Because of the lateness in us being send bank details to make the payment we had half expected that the appointment would be delayed – but to our absolute joy we turned up, and one hour and lots of paper signing later – I walked out of his office the proud owner of three small plots of very special, and magical land in rural South West France!! Transfer of ownership document It felt surreal to think that just a few years ago Dad and Ann would have been sitting in that same office doing the same thing – excited with their own plans – obviously not knowing that their dreams would be shattered just a few years later. Part of the reason for us doing what we are doing is to honour their dreams, but of course we have our own dreams to fulfil too. To celebrate we went to Charlotte’ s for a Café Gourmand – something we have been promising ourselves as a treat ever since coming here but never quite finding a good enough reason to have 4 pieces of cake all at once before. Cafe Gourmand

Much to Martin’s disgust my new catch phrase of “oi you! Get off my land!” still hasn’t lost its novelty value.

The first thing we done after this very important RDV (that’s the French abbreviation for rendezvous) was to drive to Belves to the Sogedo office. Sogedo is the local supplier of water. Water, as we have found is such an important commodity. When we drove down in February we had been alarmed to find that the water taps had been turned off at ALL of the Aires on our route to Villefranche-du-Perigord. 100 litres of water was all we had on board and we had watched the level gauge go down and down, realising that our plans to “wild camp” in the Aires was to be scuppered if we could not find one with the water turned on and we would have to find a campsite that was open (also a rare commodity in February). However….we were delighted to find that Villefranche has an Aire that stays open all year round!.

So, the concept of water supply is to us, something that we are acutely aware of it’s importance. Now we have been camping up on the land it’s been lovely in the sense that we can spread out a bit, but a complete pain in the butt to have to drive down to the Aire every couple of days to fill up with water. 100 litres soon goes!!

So, that’s why we were so keen to go to Sogedo. It was a hot, hot day and we had the doggos in the back of the pick up truck, so when we arrived my priority was them of course. We ventured into the office – “parlez vous Anglais” “Non, but my colleague does” – colleague came to front desk. “Merci beaucoup” I said – “but first of all, it is very very hot out there and our dogs are in the car – is it possible that they could come in here”. “Yes of course!”. So, just a few minutes later Luka and Lillie are laying on a lovely cool tile floor, having a snooze whilst we concentrated on the important business of getting a water supply. The trouble was that Sogedo were certain there was already a water meter, and we were certain that there was not. Our previous searches had previously only revealed the isolation tap, never a water meter. Anyway, Corrina the lovely dog friendly French lady said that they would send someone out to sort it out. “How long?” we asked – expecting “un mois…maybe deux mois” as has been the case with EVERYTHING else. You could have knocked us over with a feather when she said “tomorrow”. So, off we went back “home” – really pleased that soon we would have water sorted out.

Next morning, I was at the land alone when a Sogedo van arrived. A bit of an exchange in “a little English, a little French” and the man soon had the water supply turned on at the isolation tap. But now the important issue of the water meter. I explained the best I could that we did not know where it was, he asked where the house was. I said “we have no house yet, we are going to be building one”. “no, the little house”. “Ah, the ruin?” and pointed down the slope in to the woodland. He started to climb down through the thick undergrowth and I said “no, no you will be torn apart with thorns” and showed him the track we have cut through. I went to get decent boots on, and by the time I got down there the man was kicking off get big chunks of dead tree from the concrete lid to a water meter box!! “Voila!” Inside was revealed a very old tap (“be very careful” he said “it is very fragile”) and a 2-foot piece of fairly new hose pipe. l'eau de la vie.jpg Our mystery was solved – this was the water meter that Dad and Ann had installed about 6 years previously – with just 3 cubic meters used on the meter. This makes perfect sense as they would have, like us, needed a utility bill to get other important things like car registration etc. sorted out.

“How did you know it was here” I asked the man – and he said that it was him who closed the meter 3 years previously (it was actually 5 years but in such a poignant moment I did not want to correct him”.

Running water

So….we now have “l’eau de vie” – on tap! Hurry! It has already made such a difference to not have to worry so much about filling up. We still need to do the toilet (back of pick up truck down to the Aire to go into the chemical toilet disposal point) and the grey water (large buckets then thrown in the woodland). But, it’s a good feeling!!

After the excitement of the water I decided to start getting a feel for what the areas of the land will be so that we can begin to landscape it to suit our needs. When I say “landscape” I don’t mean landscape as in your traditional sense by any stretch of the imagination. Just more like organising it into zones. So, I know have a hammock gently rocking in the trees which is roughly in the place where our bedroom will be. Happy in my hammock.jpg

And I have the very beginnings of a Zen garden on one of the dropped terraces – which in time will become a Meditation and Yoga area – maybe with some natural arches providing a beautiful backdrop to my daily practice (which has dropped off of late much to my disappointment). We have lots of ideas and vision for this land. Some of the plans change when we realise that a spot is either too sunny, or not sunny enough for our intended use, but that’s very much the beauty of living in the motorhome up there as we can see how it is 24/7, and as the seasons change. Zen Garden.jpg

The soil is great over here

Our neighbour Violene kindly gave me two baby tomato plants when I told her I was starting to create a garden. For a joke I showed her this photo the next day and told her that the soil must be great in these parts.

Lots of birthday cards

This week also marks Martin’s 59^th Birthday and our 9^th Wedding Anniversary. He had a full letter box of cards waiting for him on his birthday – but actually only one of them really did come through the mail – I played a prank on him by placing all the cards that people in the UK had given me to bring back.

9 years anniversary When we got married 9 years ago we never dreamt we would be living full time in a motorhome on a track next to a bit of woodland – that’s certainly not what he promised me!! But then again, I’m sure he’d say “I beg your pardon – I never promised you a rose garden”. And it’s true – along with the sunshine there’s gotta be a little rain some time. And as I sit here writing this I’m hoping that we get a bit of rain this evening and it’s absolutely stinking hot – too hot really!!

So, the final event worth noting for this week is of course the World Cup. I don’t usually follow the footy but of course when it’s something as important as the World Cup I’ll make an exception. We watched the France v Belgium game on Tuesday and were excited to see them win. On Wednesday we were discussing the potential dilemma that the England v Croatia game posed. If England were to win they would then be playing France. So…who to cheer for!! Country of origin or country of residence? Or both? Anyway, it didn’t pan out that way for England which was a huge shame and would have made this evening’s match very interesting. Then again…as I am writing this I am listening the television at the campsite bar (we came down to watch the match) and France has just won 4:2 – and that’s a really exciting thing!! Aren’t we lucky – to be living in a country that we love and it’s the World Cup holder!! hashtag dilemma

Inlaws, Outlaws and Aliens

Wow, it’s been over a month since my last blog entry. This was a deliberate move on my part as, after careful consideration I decided that I would not do a weekly blog during our trip back to the UK as it was not all directly related to #projectFrance. However, I feel that a summary of our month long trip would be a good idea.

So, we embarked on our 1000km trip back to the UK on 1^st June. The primary reason for the trip back was to provide moral support if necessary for our youngest who has been sitting exams. But also, we had a few hospital appointments, and some dental appointments, and as we left the UK amidst a bit of a drama back at the beginning of May we thought it would be lovely to spend some time catching up with family to update them on how our house building/land acquiring plans were going.

First stop was Broadstairs to visit James, Nicola, Henry and Chloe, and we had a lovely visit to the seafront with them……..and a much looked forward to Indian Takeaway, and an even more looked forward and very much needed bath for me!! It’s not that I hadn’t been showering at all – far from it – it’s just that with only 3 minutes of warm water, showers “a la camping-car” are short and sweet and merely functional. Not like the lovely, relaxing bath with my soothing bath products that I took in their bathroom. Only the promise of the Indian takeaway being ordered was enough to get me out of there. Indian food is something I do miss when in France as there is no such thing as an Indian Restaurant or Takeaway – at least not in rural SW France as are we – maybe in the cities – we haven’t found out yet

We also managed to squeeze a quick catch up with friends Matt and Hannah – who were great friends of Dad and Ann – and it is always lovely to speak to people who know the land well (as they do) and completely “get” what we are trying to achieve.

Then it was off to Chandlers Ford where we used to live. Lots of family to visit here, including my mum, daughter, Martin’s son’s and of course our lovely “daughter-outlaw” Lisa. That’s an ex in-law to you and I. Sadly, a marriage break-up means that she now gets the coveted title of “outlaw” – of which we have a few!! We get on really well with all our “out-laws” – maybe they know something we don’t ha ha!! Enough said about that maybe??? Lisa is also mum to our super cute nearly 4 year old Grandson Max – who we took to the New Forest for some great adventures.

We found a campsite in Ampfield to set up base, negotiated a bit of a discount for a long stay (always on a look out for a bargain and after living rent free for a month in France it was a shock to the system to find campsites cost nearly as much as a mortgage). We were blessed with superb weather for the whole of our trip, and it was really lovely to be able to set up a comfortable base in which we could spread out a bit.

The doggos were delighted to also meet up with one of their favourite doggo friends – Shiloh and the three of them enjoyed a “tail wag” whilst the humans enjoyed a “chin wag”

Whilst in Ampfield we re-connected with old neighbours of ours, who used to live a few doors up the road from us until they saw the light and moved away to a place that is more aligned with the life they want to lead – much like us. They now live in a charming house, with lots of land, on which they can enjoy a life of partly self-sufficiency, and look after some gorgeous rescue ponies – Alwyn and Fergus. Martin quite literally bumped into John whilst out walking the dogs, and they recognised each other. This led to an invitation to dinner and then a return visit to us at the campsite. It was so lovely to spend time with like minded people, and even more so because they are all (including their lovely daughters) vegan – so this led to lots of interesting conversations and sharing of recipes – in particular a kale and chickpea and spelt salad which introduced me to spelt and got me back into kale in a huge way. We were given a guided tour of their raised beds and now Martin has purchased a book to help us on our way back in France. We both felt very envious of their beautiful sunset over the stunning Ampfield woods but of course soon we will have our own stunning sunsets over the woods our of our own kitchen windows.

One of the first things to sort out was to find a Mitsubushi L200 – the vehicle we had decided would tick all the boxes for our needs for a vehicle in France. We were lucky to find HULK very quickly into our trip (named due to his number plate) and in order for me to gain confidence we decided that it would make sense for me to follow Martin and Marsha (the motorhome) around when we set off on our inlaws and outlaw visits for a week.

We also caught up with other good friends, and shared a few meals – most notably the cheesiest pizza I have even had – dare I say it TOO cheesy!! Also, a lovely family meal with Ryan popping over from Bournemouth. And did I mention a fair few Gin and Tonics – another thing that I do miss from England and fully intend to take at least 3 bottles back with me each time for the Gin Bar which I will most definitely be having in our new house.

After said daughter had completed exams and celebrated with family and this anxious mummy was assured that she was happy with how they have gone and was about to embark on a week long bender that would not require parental supervision – we ventured up towards the East of the Country to spend some time with another “outlaw” – this time ex sister in law Sarah, and her partner Gary.

Sarah is the much loved mum of Evan who sadly had a fight with cancer and didn’t win – very tragically lost at the age of 13. Evan’s loss has had a profound effect on all of us. Yes, it was awful to lose my Dad and Step Mum to cancer, but I have no words to describe how I feel about a 13 year old boy having to fight this awful disease. However, time spent with Sarah always is (and always has been) extremely upbeat and fun, she’s funny, brave, kind and clever – and we love her for that.

3 days went quickly and we were soon on our way to my brother Stephen who lives in Colchester. We pitched up at a campsite and picked him up to bring his over for a homecooked curry, a few beers, and for him to do his part of the paper-work for the transfer of ownership. The said paperwork consisted of no fewer than 52 pages – all of which were in French, and had been sent over VERY late on Saturday evening – the French certainly do like living on a knife edge!! Thanks to Google Translate and a huge amount of patience we were able to satisfy ourselves that we are not selling our souls, but agreeing with the succession plans according to French law, and I am buying James and Stephen out of their shares so that me and Martin can build on the land. My comedian of a brother (Stephen) had cracked a few jokes about wanting to keep his share and rent it out to me – but as he was talking in Francs and not Euros I figured he had no idea what he was talking about

Then on to North London to visit the notorious Mother In Law!! She’s actually not bad for a MIL – although I always do find that my dear husband resorts back to child like behaviour when he visits and wants to raid the biscuit cupboard and other boy like stuff!! We were able to do a ridiculous amount of washing at her house, and also give the motorhome a much needed and very thorough wash. Although there was plenty of room to park Marsha the Motorhome on her driveway

we stayed inside the house which was a novelty for us – but I found it a bit disconcerting the first night, to have all that space in a bedroom. But another long soak in the bath was much appreciated and caused me to sleep like a baby the second night. We also saw one of my brother in laws, David, whilst there and it was lovely to update him with our plans for our little house. Whilst talking to them both we realised that we will probably be able to fit our teeny little house twice, maybe three times over in MILs house and I wondered if they think we are a bit bonkers. After all, many of the roads in Stanmore are 2 miles long with only 100 or so houses in them. Now we have spent so much time full time in the motorhome it all seems a bit alien to us to have multiple bathrooms, and enough space in a house to watch TV in one room whilst someone else is in another room.

That was the last stop on our epic round the UK in a week trip, and then it was back down to Ampfield for a few days to see everyone down there again before heading back.

We enjoyed seeing everyone a great deal, but the time spent back in the UK did confirm to us a few things. One being that the roads are so much nicer in France – so quiet in comparison. And also, that we most definitely no longer want the life of a hamster on a wheel- continually running around, getting no-where, trying to earn enough to pay for a life we don’t really want. For that realisation that has come at a time which means we are young enough to really fully reap the benefits of the new life we have chosen, we are very grateful. Our little home on wheels has taught us a lot – most importantly that if it doesn’t fit in a 17 sq metre motorhome we probably don’t need it. We are still adjusting to that life, but it certainly doesn’t feel like a hardship, although we do realise that to some people our lives must appear to be very alien. But, it’s the same for us – we now find the traditional model of domesticity to be quite alien to ourselves – and so, when people’s faces have shown a look of sympathy for the hard life we must be leading without our TV and vast amounts of space we share a wry smile and whisper “if only they knew”.

Old MacDonald had a farm

Part of the charm of living in rural France (or indeed rural anywhere) is the sounds of nature all around you.

Many an hour has been spent simply sitting, listening to the sounds of the birds – trying to identify which they are. We have owls up on the land which we hear at night time, and woodpeckers literally right over head, lots of other song birds – and of course the rooster!!

The rooster belongs to Madam C (the Portuguese lady) whose house is just before our land as we come up the track. You can hear the rooster from right down in the village.

Last weekend I noticed that the rooster was calling out nearly continually and mentioned this to Martin. I asked him if he thought it was usual to make the noise continually – Martin wasn’t sure. Now being more aware of the rooster’s call meant I was listening out for it and noticing it more. “At least it stops at night time” I said.

That night I was amazed to hear it during the night time (rather annoyingly if I am honest). The next day I googled “do roosters make a noise all the time”. The answer was, not normally but they may do if they are distressed. “Oh dear!!” I hope the rooster gets over it.

Over the weekend we went for a coffee at Alice’s and mentioned it to her. I said “the rooster is going Cock-a-doodle-doo all the time – day and night – what does it mean”. Alice laughed – then apologised – she said I’m not laughing that it is making the noise all the time – it’s the word you use – it’s like the children say it. “Oh, said I – what is cock-a-doodle-doo in French then.”. Alice considered this carefully and announced “cockreekoo” – I said “I like that better – how do you spell it”. Alice wasn’t sure but was sure it ended in k-o-o to make it sound exotic”.

We had many giggles over the weekend about the rooster. Alice told us that her son and his partner had said they would get one too, and she had threatened to strangle it if they did. Their daughter, upon hearing this had simply said “Grandma – you are not my favourite Grandma for saying this”.

Alice said that her son had said the solution would be for Alice to get ear-plugs to which Alice had said – the only place the ear plugs will be going will be up that roosters **** – much to our amusement.

But…Monday arrived and so did the new rooster – and we now have “cock-ree-koo” in stereo. And do you know what – we really do love it!!

Even better, just after the arrival of the rooster came a new hen complete with 10 un-hatched eggs – ready any day. Much to our delight 2 or 3 of these hatched out the day before our UK bound trip began so we were able to go to see them. Such a privilege to see day old chicks nestling under their (very protective) mummy.

So, with our two dogs, ‘Doggo’ (Madame C’s dog Ralph), the multitude of puss-chats and puss-chatons, the odd deer, two roosters, 10 hens, new baby chicks, a gazillion spiders and ants, and the multitude of birds…it’s definitely beginning to sound like Old MacDonald’s farm……I wonder if we should get a goat or two?

On a different note, Thursday heralding the beginning of our journey back to the UK. We no longer say “trip home” as this is now the reverse – we are leaving home to go back to the UK for a visit – this particular one to be close by whilst daughter does exams – just in case coffee/cake/comfort is required.

We’ve been waiting all this last month for the “Certificate D’Urbanisation” to arrive – applied for back in February. And guess when it finally came through? Yep!! Approximately 90 minutes after we had left the village – so that will have to wait until we get back.

Such is the French way of life…..slow, often ironic, and a bit Cock-a-doodle-doo (or should that be Cock-ree-koo)!!!

Please Mr Postman

It’s been an active and eventful week this week that’s for sure. Once I’d set my mind to walk 5km every morning I was really pleased that first Nic, and then Carol decided to join me. So, every morning this week at least 2 of us have walked the 5km route – leaving at 7.15am – bright and early to get it done before it gets too hot. I’m not going to mention the small point that the first morning Nic turned up to join me I was still it bed (oh whoops I just did mention it). It was partly her fault, partly mine, a bit embarrassing and resulted in a very sleepy me literally being out of the door in about 7 minutes flat and feeling rather dazed and confused for the first few km.

As the week has progressed the walking group has evolved to a running group as well. Not sure how that happened but Carol knows a guy Steve etc. etc. and before I could say “but my knees are knackered and my boobs are too big to run downhill” it was 0800 on Thursday morning and 5 of us – well 7 if you want to count Luka and Lillie too – were off on the hilliest run I’ve ever done in my life!! 20 minutes out and 20 minutes back.

Running group Luka — Luka is my all time favourite running partner

Running group Lillie — Lillie looking the part in her little running harness

Very hard for me and I was the slowest – but I enjoyed it and went back for more this morning – 0800 on a Sunday!! For a run!! Unheard of in my previous life!!

I have also revived my yoga practice and am now trying in earnest to do 30 minutes most days after my walk. So far this has worked well this week as it’s been sunny and warm and I have been doing it outside, overlooking the trees – which has been a fantastic contrast to my previous yoga studio back in the UK – but I did find I was missing a mirror. But then we doing a pose I caught my shadow and realised I was sticking my butt out the back a bit too much and was able to correct it really well by just looking at my shadow!!

Wednesday was a really active day – as well as the 5km walk we also had all our worldly goods arriving in the removal van. This was exciting and frustrating in equal measures. Back in England we had stressed the limited access to the storage barn, and (we thought) agreed that they would bring a small truck but in the preceding few days via a few frustrating phone calls it became apparent that they were going to bring a larger lorry. So, we were both a little nervous about this.

You’ll see from the photo that it was a challenge for them!! It’s a very steep and narrow slope – it took about 45 minutes for them to get up there!!

Enough said about that – I don’t want my blog to be moany but I was disappointed that they didn’t take any notice of us and also even more disappointed that there were a lot of broken items – luckily nothing irreplaceable but it would seem they didn’t take a great deal of care of our possessions. So, everything we own in this world apart from the things we managed to squeeze into the motorhome are now in storage until we build a house to fill up. It’s a good job we had a good de-clutter before we packed it all as I really do not want to EVER move house again!!

We were very grateful that we were going to our neighbour Alice’s for supper that evening and we had a lovely, chilled out evening with her and as always, a bottle of wine and hearing more of her crazy stories unwound our coiled springs.

Thursday evening was another fantastically chilled evening with friends Carol and Craig. Lovely homemade pizza by Craig, and salads from Carol – and lots of Gin and Tonic and Rose Wine – lovely. All enjoyed sat outside looking out on to lovely French landscape and we were completing spoilt by a stunning sunset – see the photo and I swear there were no filters on this picture. Just simply stunning!!

Friday evening was the Fete des Voisins (Neighbours Day) which was in the village at the Halle – which is the covered market area. Large tables were put out, and everyone coming brings a plate of food to share and some drinks. The idea is to get to know your neighbours. It was a really fun evening – lots of wine, I tried “l’eau du vie” for the first (possibly last) time and got up with some young French girls (and some older English girls) for a little boogie.

Martin finally got around to fixing the post box up this week. The said post box was found in the ruin and previously belonged to Dad and Ann, but we have never found the corresponding post. But Martin found an old wooden post on a rubbish pile down in the village so used that to fix it on – hey presto – our very own post box!!

He ventured down to La Poste to check that we have our address correct as technically we are within the Bourgale estate but our access is via another track. He explained to the post woman that we were going to send ourselves a post card to test it out – much to her amusement! With a little shrug she said the post takes “un jour, deux jours?” So, he posted the Post Card – which has full written instructions for the post man on exactly how to get to us….and waited…………….and waited…………..and waited. Every day, we checked the post box singing this song in our heads

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vAqE0AvEqwAvEqw

Day One – nothing

Day Two – nothing – but we did have loads of junk mail

Day Three – nothing

Day Four – nothing

Then when we thought maybe it had got lost – on Saturday!!

Result!! It’s official – we can now have food parcels sent to us!!

At least now we will have a proper post box to have notes from Alice left it – although I must say it was rather sweet to come home to this on Saturday morning – it was left on our camping table outside the motorhome

She had very kindly agreed to “doggo sit” for Luka and Lillie whilst we attended Bernard’s 90^th Birthday Party – which was great fun. I can’t even begin to imagine what it is like to be 90 years old but he’s looking good on it – and given that he was a similar age to me now when he first came out and was in very poor health I think that’s a very good indicator that life out here could be the healthy option – let’s hope so!!

The Princess would like a tower!

Hopping on the scales last week and realising that a multitude of French bread and fromage has led to the inevitable weight gain I have been dreading, has resulted in lots of walks this week. We were lucky enough to bump into our English “neighbour” Katie (I say neighbour loosely as her house is directly above our land but about 1.5km away-so forget the English concept of next door neighbours) whilst out walking on Sunday and she showed us a lovely 5km circular walk which takes in some of the lovely scenery around the Bastide.

5km circular walk

It’s all uphill around here so the walks have been lung busting and strenuous in my attempt to utilise them to replace my previous exercise regime of 3 – 6 high impact up exercise classes a week.

Poppies

The lanes are in full, beautiful French bloom at this time of year and the recent rain, rain and more rain that we have had has really caused the wild flowers to burst out in their Springtime glory.

Poppies have always been one of my favourite flowers – and remind me of my Dad and Ann (as they were in full bloom in Acol (a village near Margate) when they were in their last weeks (and also of my Grandad who I called “Poppy”)

It’s a novelty for me and the dogs to do our walking on roads for a significant part of the route – but I have to say it is a breath of fresh air to be able to count on one hand the number of cars that pass us – and ALL without exception slow down to pass us. There’s also loads of wild life – including cows, donkeys and even deer.

Hee Haw 2

Deer — Almost looks like a painting on the side of the house – there were two of them – so close to us

Whilst out on the many walks and drives we have done over the last 2 weeks we have pondered over our choice of style for the house which we will be building. Initially our plans had been to build a simple, single story wooden house, then we changed our mind and decided to go for a brick built house – two rectangles joined together in a lazy V shape. But, seeing the lovely French farmhouses with their quirky, often irregular shapes got me thinking again that we should be putting something a little different into our design.

Tower through the trees — The Bourg Tower showing it’s beautiful medieval splendour through the trees

So after much pondering, and a fly away comment to Peter the retired architect (“you should get up high to see the view”) it was decided – The Princess would like a tower!! Not a massive, huge Rapunzel, medieval tower – just a nice, sensible sized tower to get up high and be able read the gazillions of books that we have accumulated over the past decade in the hope that one day we would build a reading loft somewhere in the Dordogne!! That sort of tower!!

So, when our builder Laurent came for an RDV (that’s rendezvous to you and I) we told him of the changes and between our bit of French, his bit of English, and Google translate – we came up with a plan to take the new ideas forward. We’re hoping that by taking a few bits from the original plans (like electric shutters (which we didn’t want anyway) and the terrace (which we will do at a later date)) the quote for the new improved “maison avec tower” will come in about the same as before. Fingers (and everything else) crossed!! This photo is not the plans for our house – but this is a style similar to what we are hoping for.

Plans for the house style we like — No swimming pool for us, and also no undercover terrace – but this is pretty much what we are aiming for shape wise. We will add character to this with wooden shutters and decorative brickwork

So, that’s all very exciting!!

Also exciting is the news that the geneologists report has FINALLY arrived, and to our great relief there are just the three of us spawned to my dad!! No wild oat sowing on his part to worry about!! So, the transfer of ownership for the land can now be done. Disapointingly though it’s taken all week to pin down the Notaire to any news of progress and we are still waiting to here!! The French system is certainly sent to try us.

Someone said to me this week “when you first move to France you wonder if you have made the right decision, you wonder if this is the right country for you as everything seems to go wrong”. It’s so true……it feels as if it is just us who are being subjected to the ridiculous lengths of time to get things sorted out – but it’s not just us – it’s just the way it is!! Tres slow!! We need to adapt and to learn patience, and also resilience – and plenty of it – as things change constantly – they rarely go to plan – we just need to go with the flow. And take time to stop for a while and enjoy our beautiful surroundings and have fun.

And celebrate the small successes and progress – like getting to the end of the bit of strimming that revealed the lovely view of the village nestled below us. A village is revealed