Hinxworth - Windsor - St Albans

We are staying in Hinxworth, a picture postcard village about 45 miles north of London. Later in the morning we left for Windsor. The motorway traffic is heavy, and requires a lot more concentration than I am used to. Not only because I am driving someone else's car but also the sheer volume makes it somewhat daunting. Windsor is where we used to live prior to moving to France. It's where we have agreed to meet Rob, my good friend and ex-tennis coaching partner, but also where we have to visit Mailboxes Etc where Jan holds a mailbox. This place is very useful for us, mainly because when we buy stuff on the internet, not all companies will deliver to France, so Jan has her order sent to Mailboxes, who will hold or forward them to our order. Robert, the proprietor, is also a personal friend, so we also like to meet up with him and chew the fat.

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We had arranged to meet Rob and Lorraine at Carluccio's, a great Italian restaurant in Windsor railway station. The place is packed out and no wonder. It is difficult to find good quality Italian food in England and this man has now expanded outside of London. I ate pasta al vongole, pasta with clams, one of my favourites and rarely seen on a menu. Downstairs they have a great deli, full of lots of authentic Italian delicasies. Not cheap, but good.

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After a couple of hours in Mailboxes, where presents are sorted and dispatched to the four corners, we head back to St Albans to meet up with Claire, whose birthday it is, for yet another Italian meal. Nowhere near as good as Carluccio's, but just as expensive. Hmnnn.

More home to Hinxworth

By design, we arrived early at the airport so that we could get rid of the bags and then try the airport restaurant. Someone had said that it wasn't too bad. They were right. There were several menus and a la carte and frankly it was no worse than our local relais. It will never be a first choice but it opens up the options at other times.

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It was so cold when we landed at Luton that we both resorted to hats to stay warm. We're not used to this! Harry arrived to take us to his house where we were going to stay for the next few days. Thanks Harry!

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By way of a forthcoming birthday party for Bar, Jan and Jill's friend from way back, Jill prepared dinner. We started with a crab and asparagus mousse, the most delicious beef wellington, pink and cooked to perfection, followed by chocolate roulade and/or pears cooked in wine. Thanks Jill.

Home to Hinxworth

This morning we left, on the morning flight, for the UK via Nîmes. As usual, I may or may not have internet access easily available. If not, I'll be back on Saturday. A bientot.

So that's where it goes

Having weighed myself both before and after last week's trip, I find that my weight has increased by over half a kilo (that's 1.3 pounds in old money). Whilst I knew that I wasn't being good, how come it goes on so quickly? It now means that I have an extra half kilo to lose, as well as my one kilo target for my visit to the lovely Dr K in December. If she only knew how much I cared and how much I tried, I'm sure that she'd reward me! Or do you think that's just my fantasy? Answers on a postcard to .........

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I like to read blogs and lots of others do as well, but the whole business of both reading and writing them is interesting. I find the writing quite therapeutic, a sort of conversation with mates, so Kevin's recent comment to me on the subject rang a bell. He wrote:

"Are blogs the lost art of letter-writing returning in a new format... except today we write to the world rather than to an individual...
............ I enjoyed my mini client rant yesterday... that was blogging therapeutic!"

My sentiments exactly.

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I miss having Max around. Because we go away again tomorrow, it wasn't worth taking him out of kennels, but as I wandered around the house this afternoon, I was continually on the lookout to tell him off or at least tell him to stop doing something or stop irritating me. Jan had better watch out!

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The rest of the day was spent with routine winter maintenance, like wrapping palm trees against the winter frosts (who says we're not caring, bio-friendly people?), getting ready for a few days in the UK and clearing the decks because we will have to deal with a new pooch as soon as we get back.

Agen to home

Last night, even though we had an enormous lunch, Elizabeth prepared a scrummy cottage pie. It's funny how you anticipate not feeling hungry and then you stuff your face when offered an old favourite. Harold brought out two bottles of delicious Bourgeuil and we finished with a raspberry charlotte and a local pudding wine. All top class and guaranteed to blow my diet out of the water. Never mind.

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We were really sorry to leave Elizabeth and Harold this morning, because it was a fun packed and interesting few days but we have things to do before we leave for England on Tuesday. The journey home was uneventful and we returned to find that Manny had been working to pipe some air into the fireplace. Maybe, just maybe, we are getting close to sorting the fireplace out.

Fancy a duck, mister?

They're big on duck around here, so mid-morning we headed off for La Ferme de Ramon at Aiguillet, about 15 minutes away. They were having an open day, and lots of other local producers would be selling their wares. You name it and if it's duck related you can buy it, well, that and oysters, cakes, cheese and wine. It's an Aladin's cave of goodies, with lots of ideas for Christmas, but there's no concern about keeping stuff fresh because it's very cold both inside and outside of the various marquees.
Luckily, Harold has reserved places for lunch, so we sat down in a large very old barn, with a hundred or so others, at huge trestle tables. The atmosphere is very jolly, the French being quite amused at being joined for this very French affair by some English. We start with an assiette degustation which is washed down with a sweet Domaine Amblard 2000 and then the best duck's breast I have ever had, it being very large, very pink and very tender. With this, we drank a Merlot, a 1998 Chateau de Salles. Cheese, pudding and coffee followed. All this food for the princely sum of 16 euros each. Excellent value.

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Talking about ducks reminds me of the time, in my previous life, when our CEO was in town. Ross (I've changed his name to protect the innocent) stated that he wanted duck for dinner the following evening. What Ross wanted, Ross got, so being the youngest (but far and away the best looking) I was sent out to organise said meal. We were at the Inn on the Park, on Park Lane, London, and someone mentioned that the Shepherd's Tavern nearby served good duck, as long as you booked it in advance. Bearing in mind that it was now midnight, I had to get this pub to open up for me so that I can make a booking and ensure that they have lots of duck in for the following evening. Naturally the pub was shut but I could see people inside, and I tried to attract their attention by shouting through the letter box. Being a little worse for wear, I'd forgotten that I was in Shepherds Market, where, at that time of night and for the right money, you could buy a lot more goodies than just duck. Anyway, there I am on my hands and knees, shouting through this letter box that I wanted a duck. Inside, they appeared to get very agitated and shouted that they were going to call the police. As the mist lifted and I started to sober up a little, I reconsidered my position and got the hell out of there, deciding that I wasn't going to spend a night in the slammer for Ross' bloody duck. By the way, the next day, even though I'd managed to make the booking first thing in the morning, he'd changed his mind and we went out for seafood.

New wines to taste

After a lazy, rainy morning we head off to the cave cooperative at Buzet. This is new wine territory for me and this place has a huge selection to try from. One guide calls Buzet the poor man's claret which is a little unfair and we enjoyed it nonetheless. (Now there's a surprise - Ed.) Typically wines from this area consist of a Merlot, Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon mix but I found the wines that I tried a little tannic for my taste. However, after tasting a wide range from 2 euros to 15 euros, Jan and I agreed that we liked something at the princely sum of 3.90 euros a bottle. I'm beginning to think that we only like cheap wine! (You and a few other winos - Ed.)

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Dinner tonight was at a restaurant called Le Pique Assiette in Bazens, a couple of kilometers away. We mostly had the 25 euros menu, which was excellent value. I started with a velouté of cepes, a tender and tasty fillet of biche (a female deer, Harold joked), and an apple soufflé. Excellent food for the price with a couple of bottles of inexpensive Bergerac. A good find.

Home to Agen

After a hectic few hours dealing with the plumber, who is going to work on the fireplace and chimney whilst we are away, dropping Max at his pension and some last minute bits from Quissac, we hit the road. We take the A9 towards Spain and just after Narbonne turn right onto the A61 towards Toulouse. After Toulouse we are in virgin territory. Neither of us has been to this part of France before. The journey from Toulouse to Agen is very attractive as we follow the Garonne on its journey to the sea. Contrary to what we are used to, the trees are mostly broad leaf and so the journey is very colourful with all the autumnal colour.

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Harold and Elizabeth are delightful and we miss them. They were the couple that we were closest to in our home village and we have always enjoyed their company. Their new house is in Porte St Marie, right on the Garonne, and they have a spectacular view of the river from their terrace.

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H&E both like to cook, so dinner consisted of deep fried camembert with an apricot and tomato chutney, duck teriyaki and the best bread and butter pudding that I have ever tasted. Jan took all three recipes. All this washed down with a selection of local wines.

What's wrong with lesbians?

I have eventually persuaded Jan to have her hair cut short. She once wore it short and I recently saw a photo that reminded me how nice she looked. After we came out of the hairdresser today, she moaned and said that she looked like a lesbian (I apologise to lesbians everywhere for this politically insensitive statement). Three of us tell her it makes her look younger and shows off her pretty face. You be the judge. I'm going to run a poll. If you post no comment then you like it, otherwise post a comment and say you don't like it, or write to her personally at
jan-the-man@dykemail.com. I'm sure she will be pleased to hear from you.

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We have a couple of trips coming up, putting time pressure on us in the run up to Christmas, so this afternoon we went to Nîmes and made a few small purchases that get us a bit ahead of the game. Tomorrow we leave for Agen, about 4 hours west, to stay for a few days with Harold and Elizabeth, and to take some of their possessions that they were unable to fit into the car when they moved from the village a few months ago. Shortly after we get back from Agen, we will spend a couple of days in the UK buying goodies for Christmas. Yum.

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Dinner tonight was grilled Dorade with fruit for pudding. See, we haven't given up yet.

Who needs the medal?

At about 7.00 this morning Jan asked me, "Well, do I get a medal?" I have to say, that nowadays I rarely get asked for anything first thing in the morning, and I never get asked for medals. Slowly the fog lifted and Jan had reminded me that today is the anniversary of our first meeting. We have now been together for 9 years, well, most of the time. Me, after a long marriage and Jan, after a long widowhood. We have little else to celebrate as a couple, well, nothing that Jan would care for me to write about, so we celebrate our first meeting. Ahhhhhhhh.

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By the miracles of science, we receive all the English channels here in the South of France, but the picture in the bedroom is poor (we do like our breakfast news first thing with a cup of tea) so today we bite the bullet and add additional dishes and boxes so that we get a full range in the main room and also all the Free to Air channels in the bedroom. This has the obvious advantage of improved picture quality, but it also means that we can watch English TV after we go to bed and let any night owls watch their own stuff in the main room.

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As a celebration meal, Jan prepares smoked salmon, duck with pancakes and hoi sin sauce and a little Grand Marnier icecream. We wash this down with half a bottle of very expensive table wine from Leyris Maziere, in the village. And, before you say it, I've got another 4 weeks to lose some more weight.

Will try harder, again

It was freezing cold this morning and, mostly to keep warm, I ran a bit more than usual, and so I beat William 6-4. I was quite pleased and felt that I moved well, because maybe I’d lost a little weight. We’ll see this afternoon. The rest of the morning revolved around bits of admin and trying to establish an internet connection which we lost suddenly yesterday. This involved a difficult (too much technical jargon in French) conversation with Wanadoo who offered little practical help and an hour or two of trying various modems, all to no avail. Bum.

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When Jan returned from art, we left to go and see the lovely Dr K, my nutritionist. I wasn’t too sure how pleased she would be because I had only lost one kilo in 5 weeks. And that, after practically no booze in all that time. What’s a man got to do to lose weight around here? Anyway, she was quite chirpy (but still didn’t offer me a reward for my good deeds) and encouraged me to keep losing. She will be happy if at any visit I’ve lost a little, so harder I will try.

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We returned home via a two trolley visit to Ikea. It beats me how we do it. We knew exactly what we wanted, four things, and then filled two trolleys. They must love us! We later arrived at home to find that we have an internet connection so I shot off a couple of overdue emails, which was just as well, because we lost connection again shortly after. I get the impression that the nice lady at Wanadoo, this morning, was not quite telling the truth in saying that they had no problems.

One good deed does not deserve another

I spent a large part of the morning helping Patti and Jaquo, our next door neighbours, install a printer on their new (our old) computer. The discussions got around to letter writing, so I showed them the basics but really they have to experiment and buy some literature to help them on their way. Otherwise I could spend the rest of my life there!

Weird happenings

Jill and Harry arrived first thing because we were all going to Sommieres to meet Bob, Lynne and Arri the pooch, for lunch. We ate in l'Evasion, the Italian restaurant in the market square and by common consent the meal was rated as good. Afterwards, as we walked back to the cars it was spooky to see the market place so quiet and devoid of all signs of the market. It had been so busy when we went into the restaurant. Weird, a bit like a Stephen King film.

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Late afternoon, Olivier, Max's trainer, called round to drop off a t-shirt that we had ordered (and forgotten about) with Max's picture emblazoned on the front. Talking about Max, he continues to let himself out of the house by opening closed doors. I still find this weird.

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Given that we had quite a large lunch and that I'm back to the nutritionist on Monday, Jan prepared a ham sandwich and fruit for dinner. We probably qualify for the fast track to sainthood. If only I believed!

Spring cleaning

It was very cold last night, just like the rest of northern Europe, but it still comes as a shock. The days, however, are bright, sunny and very warm in the sunshine, but in the shade or when night falls you've got to get out your thermals. I spent most of last night reinstalling software, after a kind soul reformatted the C drive. What a pain that is, but now my machine is lightning fast. I'll think long and hard about reinstalling some of the software that I've gathered over the years. Sort of like a spring clean, but in winter!

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Patrick, a macon (builder) recommended by neighbours, arrived to inspect our fireplace and chimney. He gave us two bits of information that we will attempt to put in place. The most important being that we should introduce air from behind the fireplace into the hearth. Now that I know what to do, it's just a matter of finding someone to do it. Patrick has enough work to take him through to 2007, so he's out of the running.