A political bunny

Not knowing his political leanings, this morning I asked Alain, the hairdresser, what he thought of Sarkozy's victory. Well, you should have heard the torrent. He's a definite Sarkozy fan and every time I said something positive about Sarko, it just encouraged him to say more. I've never seen him so animated.
At this early stage, I have to say that he's one smart kooky that Sarkozy. He is has halved the number of ministers, he's aiming for female parity in the cabinet and is appointing socialists to big hitting posts. The next five years will be interesting, if not the next few months.

I'm not too sure why I have taken such an interest in French politics, It's probably something to do with having too much time on my hands, anyway, for what it's worth, here's what I wrote on the France24 news site this afternoon.

"Chirac's lethargic, pompous and patronising leadership is at the core of many of France's ailments. At first glance Sarkozy appears to understand the problems, and solutions, and he says a lot of the right things. However, given that there wasn't a huge difference in votes separating the candidates, many voters appeared to want more of the same, as offered by Royal. Sarkozy will need to be very dynamic and resolute because it won't be an easy ride."

When 'libre' doesn't mean 'free'

I happened to mention last week that we'd probably seen the last of the rain for the year. Wrong, it poured with rain this morning. Not just your pathetic drizzle but the mother and father of all storms. The dogs, who are not normally too bothered about thunder, jumped out of their skins (along with me and Jan) at a thunder clap that literally shook the house. Powerful stuff. By mid afternoon the sun was out and things got back to normal-ish.
Our visitors, Mary and Bob, friends of Jan's from way back, headed out for a little sightseeing. Rather them than me!

***

Our local paper is the Midi Libre. Anyway, Mary brought one back with her tonight. She had picked it up in Intermarché, er literally, because she she had seen them in a pile near a counter and noticed the word Libre. She thought that it was a 'free' paper. We expect the police to descend anytime!

Domaine du Grand Chemin

We must have a reputation as a couple of old soaks (er....yup - Ed) because we were invited to lunch, along with 50,000 other people, at Domaine du Grand Chemin today. Admittedly, their bag-in-box gris and Viognier are just excellent, and suitable for any occasion, and they have nursed us through many a withdrawal sympton.

***

OK, so you think that you are the honest and faithful type. Take this test. For what it's worth I scored 8.

***

This just shows you how bored I was today. Go to Google Maps.

1 Click on Get Directions at the top of the page.
2 Enter New York as your starting point.
3 Enter London as your ending point.
4 Click on Get Directions to the right.
5 Scroll down the directions and in particular look at number 24.

Now that's bored!

Domaine Costeplane

With visitors coming tomorow, today was all about completeing those shitty little jobs that you have been putting off for ever. Jobs like taking all our empty wine bottles for recycling, cutting the weed in the orchard to make it look like a carefully planted and nourished lawn and taking a bunch of, mostly plastic, crud out of the garage, to the dechetterie. Such joy.

***

Getting a bit low on local wine, I popped across the village to see Vincent at Costeplane. For the last three years his rosé has been our rosé of choice. I know that the Vermentino is good this year and he cracked open a bottle of his 2005 oaked Chardonnay for me to try. It was just excellent. His wines just get better and better each year. Not forgetting Jan, he gave me the remains of the Chardonnay for her to taste and a bottle of Plan de Savalous which he thinks is about ready to drink. He's so kind, and aren't we lucky?

Stars in your eyes

Well, that made my morning. Through a series of coincidences, I started corresponding with one of my tv heroes. In order to save any embarrassment (like mine) I won't reveal names but suffice to say that this guy used to write, and star, in a funny television programme that Jan and I have always found hilarious. Writing this makes me sound like a star-struck teenager, but hey, star-struck maybe, teenager not. Anyway, we've been invited over for a drink. Suck on that!

***

The bloody washing machine was carted off this morning because it has suddenly stopped working and our super fast blacksmith delivered and installed a new gate. A day for handing out lots of moolah. Bum.

Outcast, a man for all seasons

'Twas a funny old day. Some rambling idiot, who mostly posts when he is pissed, has been getting up my nose recently. (More fool you - Ed) He has already been banned from other expat sites for abusive postings and he carries on in the same way here. He seems to have a huge chip on his shoulder and even takes pride in calling himself 'L'Outcast.' Reacting is of course stupid because that's exactly what he wants. He wants to get into a fight with you. He's the internet equivalent of the drunk in the pub. Look at him funny or spill his beer and he's after you. He doesn't post that often but when he does he usually lets rip and upsets some of the more genteel members of the website. (We're not including you in genteel are we? - Ed) At times I have found some of his ramblings funny, but they are all very difficult to read. He barely puts together legible sentences because I suspect that he's usually drunk when he posts. A recurring theme of his posts is the fact that he has lived in France for a long time and he sees all recent arrivals as unwelcome interlopers. Strange man.

***

After a morning in the garden we popped to Sommieres for lunch with a bunch of people from BritsNimes. Les Delices du Liban, our usual Saturday morning watering hole, was the scene of our Lebanese lunch. Elie pulled all the stops out and I was stuffed by the end of the starters. Not much happened for the rest of the afternoon!

***

To add to this mornings irritation our internet connection is still playing up. I'm convinced that there's a problem with the local exchange but no one agrees with me, yet.

To cheer me up

I've had problems connecting to the internet for the past two days so too much time has been spent trying to sort it out. Bryan sent me this to cheer us all up.

***

A normal 30-something, having split from his latest girlfriend, decided to take a holiday. He booked himself on a Caribbean cruise and proceeded to have the time of his life; that is, until the ship sank. He found himself on an island with no other people, no supplies, nothing, only bananas and coconuts.

After about four months, he is lying on the beach when the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen rows up to the shore. In disbelief, he asks, "Where did you come from? How did you get here?"

She replies, "I rowed from the other side of the island. I landed here when my cruise ship sank."

"Amazing," he said. "You were really lucky to have a rowing boat wash up with you."

"Oh, this thing?" explains the woman. "I made the boat out of raw material I found on the island. The oars were whittled from gum tree branches, I wove the bottom from palm branches and the sides and stern came from a Eucalyptus tree."

"But, where did you get the tools?"

"Oh, that was no problem," replied the woman. "On the south side of the island, a very unusual stratum of alluvial rock is exposed. I found that if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into ductile iron. I used that for tools and used the tools to make the hardware."

The guy is stunned.

"Let's row over to my place," she says.

After a few minutes of rowing, she docks the boat at a small wharf. As the man looks to shore, he nearly falls off the boat. Before him is a stone walk leading to an exquisite bungalow painted in blue and white. While the woman ties up the rowboat with an expertly woven hemp rope, the man can only stare ahead, dumb struck.

As they walk into the house, she says casually, "It's not much but I call it home. Sit down, please. Would you like a drink?"

"No! No thank you," he blurts out, still dazed. "I can't take another drop of coconut juice."

"It's not coconut juice," winks the woman. "I have a still. How would you like a Pina Colada?"

Trying to hide his continued amazement, the man accepts and they sit down on her couch to talk. After they have exchanged their stories, the woman announces, "I'm going to slip into something more comfortable. Would you like to take a shower and shave? There is a razor in the bathroom cabinet."

No longer questioning anything, the man goes into the bathroom. There, in the cabinet, a razor made from a piece of tortoise bone. Two shells honed to a hollow-ground edge are fastened on to its end inside a swivel mechanism.

"This woman is amazing," he muses. "What next?"

When he returns, she greets him wearing nothing but vines, strategically positioned, and smelling faintly of gardenias. She beckons for him to sit down next to her.

"Tell me," she begins suggestively, slithering closer to him, "We've been out here for many months. You've been lonely. There's something I'm sure you really feel like doing right now, something you've been longing for?" She stares into his eyes. He can't believe what he's hearing.

"You mean...", and he swallows excitedly and tears start to form in his eyes.........

"Don't tell me you've got Sky Sports?!"

One true and one not

This is true. I overheard this whilst standing in the queue at the Ryanair boarding gate at Luton Airport this morning.

"I don't know why Ryanair bother to sell Priority Boarding Passes. All it does is make money for the airline."

***

This is not true but a good story nonetheless. Thanks to Bryan for this one.

Nelson Mandela is sitting at home watching TV and drinking a beer when he hears a knock at the door. When he opens it, he is confronted by a little Chinese man, clutching a clip board and yelling,

"You Sign! You sign!"

Behind him is an enormous truck full of car exhausts. Nelson is standing there in complete amazement, when the Chinese man starts to yell louder,

"You Sign! You sign!"

Nelson says to him, "Look, you've obviously got the wrong man", and shuts the door.

The next day he hears a knock at the door again. When he opens it, the little Chinese man is back with a huge truck of brake pads. He thrusts his clipboard under Nelson's nose, yelling,

"You sign! You sign!"

Nelson is getting a bit hacked off by now, so he pushes the little Chinese man back, and says:

"Look, go away! You've got the wrong man. I don't want them!" Then he slams the door.

The following day, Nelson is sitting in his big whicker chair, resting, and late in the afternoon, he hears a knock on the door. On opening the door, there is the same little Chinese man thrusting a clipboard under his nose, shouting,

"You sign! You sign!"

Behind him are two very large trucks full of car parts. This time Nelson loses his temper completely, he picks up the little Man by his shirt front and yells at him:

"Look, I don't want these! Do you understand? You must have the wrong name! Who do you want to give these to?"

The little Chinese man looks very puzzled, consults his clipboard, and says:

(Wait for it)

"You not Nissan Main Deala?"

A day at the park

It felt really good to get the full copy of The Sunday Times today. Whilst we get an annotated copy, printed in Marseille, in France, it still feels good to get a full copy with all the 'shiny' bits. (You saddo - Ed.)

***

It was off to Painshill Park in Surrey this afternoon to see Maisie (above), her siter and minders. Maisie is our first grandchild and, despite seeing her only a few times a year, she is now very relaxed with us and is great company. This afternoon, whilst I pretended to be frightened of dragons, she 'looked after me' and kept me safe and told me not to worry. Bless. We were very sad to leave and I came home determined to book a flight to see them all again soon. The perfect end to our short stay in England.

Pass the Bomb

Last night, after I invited my old friend Rob, and Cara invited her friend Jaz an impromptu party started. Jan cooked asparagus, and a Thai green curry, and amongst other things we played Pass the Bomb. Feeling a little jaded, today was very subdued.

I used to be indecisive, but now I'm not so sure

We'd been shopping for what seemed like several hours, my back was hurting and I needed a rest. So there I was sitting in the ladies shoe department in Marks and Spencer. The elderly lady on the next stool was sitting, staring and fiddling with a couple of pairs of shoes. She sat, she stared and she fiddled and this went on for 10 minutes or more. Jan had disappered into the bowels of the shop and this woman, and her obvious indecision, was driving me mad. I tried to read a newspaper but she kept distracting me. There was only one thing for it.

Me: Excuse me, but would you like an unbiased view?

She: Oh, yes please. Thank you very much, young man.

That just shows you how old she was.

Me: What do you want the shoes for?

She: I have to go to a wedding.

Me: Well, I think the pair that you are holding are just that little bit smarter. I particularly like the detail around the instep.

She: Yes, you're right, but this other pair are so comfortable.

Me: I understand your problem. Why don't you buy them both?

She: Ooooh, do you think so?

Me: Well you'd then have a smart pair and a comfortable pair.

She: Mnnnn, what a good idea. I'll do it. Thank you very much.

She tried both pairs on again, packed all her belongings, piled up all the other shoes that she had been trying on and left them on the floor and set off for the cash desk. Yet another satisfied customer. I got back to reading the paper and awaited my beloved's return. I'll invoice M&S for my services when I get home.

Hello, I think you knew my father rather well

First stop Weston Super Mare. I knew that that was where I could get a copy of my dad's death certificate. The journey took longer than we thought so we didn't get there until 11.45. We were lucky because the Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages didn't shut for lunch until 12.30, so we were able to order a copy. The downside was it wouldn't be ready until 15.00. Bum, I hoped that we could merely look at the entry and get the information that we wanted. No such luck. It had to be hand written and they would do us a favour by finishing it by the promised time. That didn't leave us a lot of time if we had a lot of research to do.
Anyway, at 15.00 we got the first bit of unexpected news. Whilst his death was registered up the road in Cleveden, as that was the place of death, he died in a nursing home some way from his actual address. His regular address was actually in Bristol and if we wanted to check the electoral register, to see who was still living there, we would have to go to Bristol a good 45 minutes away. Whilst I was establishing the details of where to go and who to see in Bristol, Jan tried that well known private eye trick of looking in the phone directory. Bingo, his wife was still listed with the same address as given on the death certificate. That was a significant piece of good luck.
Our behaviour from that point on had not been planned because we had anticipated a lot more trouble in identifying any next of kin. Now everything was falling into place. The next question was how to proceed. I was fascinated to know where he lived so we decided to drive back via the address in Bristol. Not an easy drive but doable nonetheless. When we eventually found the house, the temptation to go and knock on the door and say hello was very strong but we had to think of the occupant and how she might feel. Given that she was very likely to be elderly, may not know of my father's past life and may not know about me, we decided on a plan of action. On returning to France, I would write a gentle letter introducing myself and requesting a meeting next time I was in England.
I'm one step closer to knowing a lot more about my father and whether I have any half brothers or sisters. It's all quite spooky.

A trip into the unknown

This morning we left for the UK. As we drove towards the airport, I had this strange sense of foreboding. Let me explain. The main purpose of this trip is to see my daughter Cara, but we are also going to do a little research into my natural father's background. You may remember that last year I established that he had died, never having known him since I was 4 years old when my parents split up, and I know little else. What I do know is that he died in or near Weston, near Bristol, which was where I was born. A trip down to Weston will hopefully help fill in some of the gaps.

***

With the exception of a hard landing at Luton the trip was uneventful. Cara was pleased to see us and show us her new house. Whilst she initially intended to BBQ, because of a chill wind this idea got blown out of the water, so she treated us to dinner out instead. I have to say that it feels very strange when your kids start buying you food and drink, but I'm sure I'll get used to it.

Tell me again - you hoovered the court

Whilst April was a great month weather wise (the temperature in the second half averaged 24.8c), today, the first of May, was cloudy with some rain. The perfect weather to complete a job that I have been putting off for ages. I swept, and then vacuumed, a large section of tennis court. You see the bits from the neighbouring pine trees get stuck into the porous surface and are a devil to get out. Sweeping just doesn't shift them so it was out with the wet and dry for a good old suck. It worked, but god knows what the neighbours thought. I must have looked a real idiot. (No comment - Ed)

***

In between showers it was time to pack. Or, more to the point, Jan piled some clothes on the bed and asked me what I wanted. We're off to see my daughter Cara tomorrow. She has just bought a new house and rather foolishly invited us to stay. I'm sure she didn't expect us to say yes, but there you go, we accepted.

***

We went out to dinner tonight to Jill and Harry. They haven't been in France for a while, what with getting things ready for their daughter's wedding in June, but it was nice to see them and, more importantly, to get a good meal. Jill's a very good cook and always pushes the boat out. We started with asparagus and a foaming hollandaise sauce, then a perfectly cooked Dorade and meats from the BBQ and a choice of raspberries or lemon pudding to finish. I had both. Just excellent.