You want to stick your finger where?

After three very enjoyable days with Jill and Harry it was time to move on. J&H are very kind hosts so the prospect of a few nights in Travelodges did not appeal too much. Anyway, there were things to do and people to see so off we went.
Later in the afternoon, as we were driving around the M25 in torrential rain, I got a call from my old friend and former partner in crime, Rob. It transpires that he was house sitting in Stoke Poges and wanted to know if we would like to stay with him. It occurred to me that a couple of nights with home comforts had to beat a Travelodge any day, so Stoke Poges it was. What a house! It was very big and very old and featured an illuminated well below a glass floored kitchen. Sorry Travelodge but this was too good to pass up. This is the life!

***

Later in the evening, a long standing dinner arrangement with Toby and Alison took us into London. T&A are old friends and very kindly invited Rob along as well. From their lovely house in W5 we headed into the West End for dinner at Hardy's, 53 Dorset Street, W1, 020 7935 5929. This is an excellent restaurant with a 'spoilt for choice' menu and an excellent wine list. Highly recommended.
Over coffee back at Chez T&A, Alison proceeded to tell us about a very unusual full body, oily, Indian massage that she had once experienced. Evidently, at the end of the massage, the masseur sent her into 'another world' by sticking his fingers in her ears. I couldn't wait to question her about this and learn more, but Toby insisted on showing us some bloody home movies. I suspect that Toby had heard enough and wanted to save Alison from further embarrassment. Given that he had been such a kind host I couldn't say anything but rest assured I'll probe further (no pun intended) mes braves. A great evening.

A day at a spa

Jan (and Jill) went off to Henlow Grange (Champneys) for a day of beauty treatments and relaxation. This was Jan's birthday present from her children from earlier in the year. If I was an unkind person, I'd say that a day was hardly sufficient, but then I'm not an unkind person, so I won't. In the meantime, Harry, very kindly drove me to Welwyn for a little Christmas shopping. This was my only real opportunity to get Jan a (very expensive and highly desirable) Christmas present without her being around. Even Harry, who hates shopping and Christmas in that order, browsed for his beloved. The shop very kindly wrapped the presents for me, at a price, so my dearest has no idea what to expect until later this month.
The girls returned home at around 17.00 and the difference was truly amazing. Well worth every penny of the £***'s they each spent, (he said sarcastically). (If you say any more you'll be a dead man - Ed.)

***

Bar and Geoff very kindly invited us all for dinner this evening. The meal was truly fabulous, they pulled out all the stops. Thank you so much B&G.

Roman remains

It has always irritated me when the first thing that an expat can say when he gets back to blighty is how he longs for a pint of beer. Well, I'm embarrassed to say that I am now that man. The pub, within walking distance of J&H's house, is a Greene King house and sells Abbott Ale. Last night, after two pints I was a happy man and walked back to J&H's for a wonderful meal of baked sea bass.

***

Today was a family visiting day so we drove to St Albans (the abbey above), Jan's home town. As we drove through the town I can't help but mention that it isn't a patch on my home town Harrogate. Jan naturally disagreed and in order to prove her point mentioned some outstanding features that St Albans has over Harrogate. I list them below, with my reply.

Jan: St Albans has Roman remains.
Alex: Harrogate has a living Roman remain in my mother.

Jan: It had the first English martyr, St Alban.
Alex: I'm an English martyr (just not yet canonised).

At this point Jan gave up because I was not taking this very seriously. However, I think I proved my point.

Lunch at the Holly Bush on the outskirts of St Albans, with Gwen, included a pint of Flowers EBA. Good beer.

More visiting in the evening at Tim and Sue's and their delightful children Emma, Jessica and Abigail with a chinese takeout. Excellent, and they're not even my family.

The colour of old urine

So there we are having dinner last night which, frankly, wasn't too bad given that we were eating in an hotel. We got to the pudding wine, which Jan didn't like too much. She described it as, "the colour of old urine." Now forgive me, but I'm much too gentile to describe the colour of antique piss over dinner.

***

Driving the final leg from Reims to Calais we needed to stop. On the CD player, Annie Lennox was singing 'Sweet Dreams' when we stopped at the next service area. As we walked into the lobby for our pitstop, what should be playing over the tannoy but Annie Lennox and 'Sweet Dreams' at exactly the same spot as we'd left it in the car? Weird or what?

***

Being something of a mystic, Jan changed our booking on Speed Ferries' catamaran to the Eurotunnel train a couple of days ago. She was so spot on. It was blowing a gale in the Channel and sea crossings were described as 'very rough'. I'm a poor matelot at the best of times and the switching of transport was just what this matelot needed. Thank you so much my mystic honey.

A caravan to Reims

I have to declare an interest. I don’t like caravans. Why would anyone want to drive at 50 mph all over the countryside, sleep in some makeshift bed, empty the effluent out of their own toilet and pay a lot of money for the privilege? There must be some perverse pleasure that I haven’t quite cottoned on to. Anyway, there we are driving up the A31 on our way to Reims when I saw something that really puzzled me. It was a Porsche Cayenne pulling quite a small caravan. It occurs to me that anyone who can afford a Porsche Cayenne has a bob or two. Anyone with a bob or two can afford to stay in a nice hotel of which there are hundreds around here. So what is he doing? Margaret Beckett, the UK Foreign Secretary, likes caravans and as a result causes the Secret Service a nightmare when it comes to protecting her. In my view, if she likes caravans, she is a legitimate terrorist target and, the sooner the better. (What you don’t understand is that the guy pulling the caravan is now broke because he bought the Porsche – Ed.)

***

Travelling north on the A26 on Sunday lunchtime you’d be forgiven for thinking that the world had come to an end and that you were the only people left on earth. When you add mile upon mile of boring, flat, farmland that must take weeks to cultivate then you could also be forgiven for falling asleep. Add caravans to this mix and you have very dangerous territory. Beware!

***

Every single time that we have driven up through France we said that we wanted to stop and take a look at Reims and, in particular, the cathedral. Well, today was the day. The frontage (above) is quite spectacular and is being cleaned but it does nothing to prepare you for the splendour and majesty of the building within. Historically the cathedral is very important insofar as every French king (bar two) have been crowned in Reims. The first crowned king was Pippin the Short (just had to mention that), and the first king to be crowned at Reims was his grandson, Louis the Pious in 816 AD. (OK, thanks, that enough of copying out of the history books – Ed.)

It was very cold, wet and windy when we left the church but, as an added bonus, we stumbled across a very jolly Christmas market nearby. I'm getting into the Christmas spirit!

Mug a child for Christmas

Good grief, we got away at midday! After dropping the dogs at Olivier’s and after having to give Jan a corrective interview after she tried to pack 10 days worth of clothes into 2 small overnight bags, we set off. We didn’t intend to drive too far today because, for once, we intended to visit places on route instead of making it the usual long, boring and tiring grind to the Channel.

There were several things of note travelling north on the A7, first the huge number of Spanish registered cars with skis on top, presumably travelling to the Alps. I know that there isn't too much snow in the Alps because of the very warm autumn we have all been experiencing. In Cortina (1224 m) midday temperatures are 15C, which is normal for May. It was also forecast that this could be the start of the end of European skiing below 2000 m. In addition to the Spaniards, there were also lots of Italian camper vans travelling in convoy. And, something that I’d never seen before (you definitely need to get out more – Ed.), overhead motorway signs displaying your car registration number and telling you to slow down if you were speeding. I’d be interested to know whether these cars got booked. How very civilised, to warn you without booking you.

The hotel (Mercure at Chalon-sur-Saone) was fine and we couldn’t quite figure out why, but it was full of kids. Something to do with Christmas I think. I like hearing kids enjoy themselves but as long as they behave. This lot were not very well behaved but they didn’t stop us enjoying ourselves. But then we’re old hands, don’t forget we have Max and Min!

In charge of bullshit

A couple of months back I promised to help Vincent Coste (above with his family) of Domaine Costeplane at a wine fair in London. He turned up this morning to say that he now has the dates. He, with others, will be showing their wines at Vinopolis in London on Monday 22nd January 2007. He will be the wine expert and I will be in charge of bullshit (at last you have found your calling - Ed.).

***

Vincent D also turned up as agreed this morning to finish filling trenches, putting in a new land drain and levelling. Vincent likes a drink and last night I went glass for glass with him. Mistake!

***

Apart from a visit to the dentist to fix a broken tooth, an appointment that I had to wait three weeks for, a lot of time was spent this afternoon getting ready for a drive to England to deliver some wine left here by friends, see family and to buy our Christmas goodies. Hopefully we will leave at about midday. We shall see.

Everything gets done, eventually

A few months ago I mentioned that our centralised hoovering system was blocked and wouldn't work. Well yesterday, the chap finally turned up to fix it. He ended up cutting away several pieces of piping, under the house, to find the blockage. He eventually found it and the blockage consisted of another piece of small pipe. It must have been there since the system was installed and a steady build of rubbish around it had finally completely blocked the pipe.

***

We've decided to put Minnie 'on the pill'. Jan still hasn't decided whether she wants to let them have pups and we can't afford to keep replacing the shutters when Max decides that he wants to get his leg over and breaks out of the house.

***

Vincent D turned up this afternoon, as agreed, to start filling in some of the trenches that he dug with his pel a couple of years ago (above). Nothing around here gets done in a hurry. Not what we set out to do, nor what artisans say they will do. Welcome to France.

Time warp

I forgot to mention that a strange thing happened over the weekend on the journey to Agen and back, in the area around Beziers. In both directions the car clock changed, by itself, going forward about 1.25 hours. Weird.

Mr Chimney Repair Man showed at midday yesterday, as re-scheduled. After a lot of sucking through his teeth (why do they do that?) he gave us a possible solution and, without giving a precise date, he said he'd come back and make some alterations to the fireplace. Everything is worth trying now.

***

You wouldn't think that a man would use a visit to the gynaecologist to get time off work, but this one did.

Not according to plan

A couple of shots of our visit to the duck farm yesterday. Look at the size of those ducks. Nothing half hearted here mes braves. Lunch was taken sitting at bench tables in a huge rustic barn. Around the sides of the barn they were selling champagne, wines, beer and food. There was another huge tent with lots of other food things for sale next door.

***

An early start this morning (look, 11.30 is early for us!) for the trip back home. We were sorry to leave because H&E are such kind hosts and good friends but there is much to do at home before we leave for the UK next weekend.
The dogs were delighted to see us and when we got them home, they rushed to see the new fencing that Michel had installed to keep them in the garden. You could almost hear Max saying 'damn'. Mr Chimney Repair Man didn't show as planned and rescheduled for the next day and Mr Landscape Gardener didn't show either (I'm not sure why I'm surprised), however a lorry load of gravel was delivered as planned. I suppose that one out of three isn't bad by French standards but it's irritating because I made a special effort to get back in time to see them.

Big duck day

If your cholesterol is a little low and needs a gentle boost, then I've found the place for you. If you eat at Ferme de Ramon, Lagarrigue, 47910 Aiguillon, there's a very good chance that your cholesterol reading will be gently nudged into double figures. They have a foire twice a year and we were booked in today for lunch. If you like foie gras (all complaints can be directed at and will be handled personally by the farm managers) or any duck related products then this is the place to be. When we arrived at midday, the place was already buzzing. In fact there were so many people that there were barely any duck breasts left for sale. Now I'm partial to a bit of magret de canard, so I dived in and in true French elbow gouging fashion managed to get to the front of the queue to buy the last three breasts available. I glared at the woman in front, who knew I was on a mission, and dared her to buy them ahead of me. But, in typical French fashion she backed down (or was she just being nice?) and she left them for me. There, a bit of entente cordiale without any nastiness.
It's a neat system. There were many local producteurs there and you choose your various courses from amongst them. Lunch was courtesy of H&E, so I purchased a bottle of Sauternes from Chateau Lafon, 33210, Sauternes, who were proud to announce that there vines are au milieu des vignes d'Yquem, to drink with the entrée. Well there you go, a wine that rubs shoulders with the best! How posh can you get? I'll whisper that we had foie gras mi-cuit for the starter (complaints etc..........). For the main course we had the almost obligatory magret and frites washed down with a red Domaine Amblard 2003. The magret was huge, and god knows what the ducks look like, but, I wasn't there to judge a beauty contest. Having said that the woman selling the Amblard was rather pretty. Anyway, it was now the turn of my blood sugar to take a hammering. Jan, who is usually a very nice person, forced me to eat the most delicious walnut cake covered with honey and, of course, I just had to finish off the Sauternes. Whose idea was this?

Out with Saddam's henchman

We took a trip west to the old town of Bazas at lunchtime, not only to look at the cathedral (above) which is on the pilgrimage route to Compostela in Spain, but also to eat at Le Bistrot Saint-Jean, 42 Place de la Cathedrale, Bazas 0556 25 18 53. The restaurant was mentioned in Rick Stein's French Odyssey television programme (but not in the cook book). The speciality of the house is beef (boeuf de Bazas) which has a special taste and is cooked to perfection, especially if you like your meat still breathing. My starter of terrine de foie gras was accompanied by an onion jam, flavoured with grenadine, very unusual but very nice. The cote de boeuf, which I shared with Harold, almost walked into the restaurant. Thank god I didn't want it rare. If you're a beef junky then this is the place for you.

***

In conversation over lunch it transpired that Harold once had his picture in the Sunday Times with the caption that he was one of Saddam Hussein's henchmen. Two things come to mind. First, don't upset Harold, and second don't believe everything you read in the papers, but then you knew that anyway. The other thing that came out, was Jan mentioning that she once had to sign the Official Secrets Act. She then told us all about it.

Stuffed and tired

My usual way of creating this journal is to dump my thoughts at the end of the day, when I'm tired (and sometimes emotional), and then to edit it the following morning. Here's the unedited version from last night.
"Arrogance is an interesting word. Last night I described certain people that we know as arrogant, which then made me consider whether I am arrogant. Jan thinks I'm arrogant, or at the very least, very self confident. I'd certainly agree with self confident but not arrogant. My self confidence come from a previous life. A time when I (we) were faced with lots of problems, nothing insurmountable, but (business) problems nevertheless. After you had faced, and resolved, a raft of problems, many of them people related, the same old problems started to surface again and again. Problems that you had already faced, and dealt with, you instinctively knew the answer to."
When I looked up the word arrogant in my dictionary it said "Origin - Middle English via Old French from Latin arrogare (see arrogate). So there you have it, Jan is right, I'm arrogate from Harrogate.

***

So much for an early start. Michel the builder turned up completely unannounced to start work on some fencing that Bryan and I had agreed we'd tackle. What was weird was, how he knew that the materials had just arrived? Then a lorry load of gravel arrived, that was supposed to have been delivered yesterday, so by the time that it was all sorted out we didn't leave until midday.

***

The journey to Port Sainte Marie takes 4.5 hours but is largely uninspiring. H&E were pleased to see us, as we were them, and provided their usual lavish hospitality. We went to bed stuffed and tired.

Big duck country

Whilst round at the Lloyd's this morning, trying to sort out their pool (it rained very heavily the other day and the water level needed lowering), I looked over the wall into our joint neighbours garden. What a mess. The place had been wrecked. Kids had obviously broken in and filled the pool with everything that they could lay their hands on. There was also lots of other damage. It looks like we have some problem children in the village and the sooner that they are stopped the better. So much for a peaceful village life. Anyway, the Gendarmes are now involved and talking to neighbours it is well known who the trouble makers are likely to be. There aren't that many kids in the village.

***

My interest in the English football club West Ham made me read this article about Icelandic business. For a country so small they are taking a sizeable interest in UK businesses generally. It makes interesting reading.

***

We are going to visit friends near Agen tomorrow so most of the evening was spent organising for an early start. It's a 4.5 hour journey so we need to leave around 10.00 to drop off the dogs and then get on the road. There is so much going on at the moment that I would like to postpone the trip but we know we will have a great time because H&E have already lined up lots of interesting things to see and do (and eat). This is big duck country, so there's a good chance that we will be handing out duck related presents this Xmas. Place your orders now!