What shall we eat today?

Mum always has something good on the table. Today at lunch she had, amongst a lot of other things, the most delicious mozzarella. As I’m a bit of a mozzarella aficionado I must tell you about it. If you are ever near a Waitrose (in England) buy their Fattorie Garofalo, 121 via Santa Maria, Capua, 0039 0823 627025, mozzarella bufala. It was unbelievably fresh; as good as I have ever eaten fresh in Italy. Jan, who is mostly a fresh ricotta fan, also thought it was wonderful. If you like buffalo mozzarella and you can’t be bothered to go to the south of Italy, then this is the stuff for you.

***

I’d had a forewarning about the afternoon. I knew that mum had an appointment at the District hospital, 25 miles west, in York. She usually does this journey by public transport, which takes out an afternoon. Why she doesn’t just go to the local hospital, 2 miles away, is another story. Naturally we offer to take her even though it will mean a lot of waiting around. Ok so I don’t really mind waiting (that’s a lie – Ed.) but for the first hour we drove away from the hospital and read the newspapers. When we got back the car park was still full so it meant waiting in a space reserved for children that needed a special badge. It was the only unoccupied space available and I couldn’t get near our meeting point. I sat with the car whilst Jan searched the hospital for mum who was by now half an hour late. It wasn’t just a case of sitting there, I had to be on full alert because I didn’t want a ticket and I didn’t want to miss my mother who could walk past at any moment. It wasn’t at all comfortable, but then I don’t mind waiting, do I?

***

On our return home from York, Jan fancied fish and chips, and Mum suggested a place nearby. When questioned, it turns out that the last time she had used this place she was disappointed. When I pointed out that she was suggesting a place that she didn’t like, I was faced with a blank stare. Ok, if you want fish and chips there is only one place, so it was back in the car for a 15 mile journey south to Leeds to eat at Bryan’s, 9 Weetwood Lane, Headingley, Leeds 16, 0113,278 5679. This is the best fish and chip restaurant in the world, bar none. Go there you will not be disappointed.

Nimes to Harrogate

It was an early start this morning because we had to drop the dogs off at their pension at 08.00 and then we had to make an appointment in Nimes by 09.00. It’s always hard leaving the dogs because they don’t exactly look forward to it and naturally we will miss them.
We have time to kill before the flight, so there I am sitting in a typical French café (that’s strange – Ed.) on the Boulevard Admiral Courbet, dunking my pain au chocolate when, as I looked down the sun dappled, tree lined road, I had this strange sensation. Here I am living in France and suddenly it feels very exotic. This is the France of your dreams and here I am living it. We both feel very lucky.

***

Jan and I have been together for quite a few years and even now I still learn things about her. We were talking about attraction and what makes people attractive. Jan, looking at a man, said, “Look at the back of his neck, it’s horrible.” I was amazed. This was something new. An element of attractiveness that I’d never considered before, at least not consciously.
“I’ve always wondered why you walked round and round me on that first date,” I said.
Necks, it turns out, tell a story. You learn more every day.

***

Flying isn’t much of a pleasure. I’ve flown a lot in the past, on business, and grew to hate it. Of late, the flying has been more for pleasure so it was less of a burden, but there are now big differences. Now we are all potential terrorists and are stripped of our dignity when we enter an airport building. We are questioned at check-in and are treated as a real threat at security. The staff at Nîmes were generally cheerful and relaxed this time so security wasn’t too bad, but it has been awful in the past. You want to scream at them. “Do I look like a bloody terrorist? I’m obviously a middle aged overweight tourist. That little grey haired old lady looks even less so.” Or more to the point, how many terrorists have ever been stopped and caught at security? Look, I know all the arguments, but isn’t this all just a little over the top? To subject every flyer to this kind of security is nothing but a stupid waste of time. To frisk little old ladies and young children is downright insulting. What about a little profiling, why not make the searches random? Why not use a little more common sense?

***

Liverpool to Harrogate is a little under 2 hours and mum is pleased to see us. She has the next few days mapped out, mostly involving food but with the odd trip to sort out her medical problems. Dinner was a cicatelli pasta with a beef ragu, washed down with an excellent Chilean Chardonnay, a 2003 Montepulchiano d’Abruzzo and then, just in case we hadn’t quite had enough, a 2003 Valpolicella Zenato which was just excellent. We rarely drink Italian wine so this was a nice treat. Being the oldest male around at dinner, (the only male at dinner – Ed.) I’m entrusted to taste the pasta and pronounce when it is cooked correctly. Apart from drinking too much, this was my main contribution for dinner. What a responsibility. It’s tough being me!

And the winner is

A big chunk of yesterday, and most of today, involved leaving the garden in a reasonable state, and preparing for a trip to the UK tomorrow. We will fly from Nimes to Liverpool and then drive over to Harrogate to see mater. We haven't seen my mother for several months so a trip is long overdue. Mum is Italian and lives in England and I'm English and live in France. You'd think we could have organised that better.

***

Peter H made reference to this interesting article about France on his website The Languedoc Page. I believe that next year's presidential elections will be crucial for France. It should be very interesting not only to see who wins, but also to see what changes are proposed and how the winner goes about it.

What's your surname?

If you ever had the slightest doubt about Wales, or Cardiff in particular, think again. Look at the fun you can have. Never have so many people with the same surname had so much fun. It even headlined that internationally famous and talented person, Grace Jones. Unfortunately Tom Jones couldn't be there, because he's not called Jones. Unless, that is, you spell Jones, W-o-o-d-w-a-r-d. And they broke a world record to boot. Gosh, I'm so envious, I wish I'd been there, it sounds like they all had a great time.

***

So there we are sitting at the computers this morning, when I lent over Jan's shoulder.

"What are you doing my love?" I said.

"Booking your birthday present for next year," she said. "How do you feel about going to Rome for a few days next February, for the grand total of 50 euros return?"

It would have been churlish to mention that my birthday is in January and she wasn't going to spend much, so I said "Do you mean 50 euros each?"

"No, it's 25 euros each," she said.

It transpired that Jan had really wanted to go to Morocco, but mindful of current problems had decided that being killed by the Mafia had more appeal. At least you would die with a good meal in your belly. Rome is my favourite city and Ryanair have just opened their French hub in Marseille, an hour and a half away, from where you can fly cheaply all over the place.

It's great to have little treats to look forward to. Isn't she nice?

The Emperor's New Clothes

I must be a philistine! Why the hell would anyone want to pay $140m for this painting? I presume it's the right way up? A few years back, on a trip to London, we went to the Tate and saw a Pollock 'in the flesh'. Jan made the comment that it looked like he did it with all the paint he had left over. We looked and looked and couldn't see one redeeming feature. In fact we both concluded that it was a load of rubbish. All I could keep thinking about was the 'Emperor's New Clothes'. I can't be the only one?

It has just occurred to me that the words Pollock and bollocks sound very similar. I rest my case, m'lud.

***

OK, another little rant. Why do film makers make it so difficult for you to understand a plot? Last night we watched a new, very glossy, series about terrorists called The State Within. It was very well made with the big exception that it was really difficult to understand what was going on. Fast moving photography, moving from scene to different scene/bit of the plot, left you bemused, reeling and straining to understand what the hell it was all about. There must have been at least five sub plots and it became a strain to keep up. Now I know I'm getting old and my faculties are not what they used to be but purleese give me a break. We discussed the film this morning, after my brain stopped hurting, and quite a bit of stuff came out that only one of us had grasped. Still, I think it was exciting and I'll try and figure another bit out next week.

Waiting for the perfect man

Jan sent me this. I don't get it!

***

All of a sudden The volume of spam that I receive has dropped significantly, particularly into my gmail account. It's probably because someone (who I don't believe in!) is looking after me because I'm an honest, kind and thoughtful person. (Help, I'm choking - Ed.) Or maybe a combination of Mailwasher and Gmail is finally beginning to work, but somehow I doubt it. They probably had a day off.

***

The back garden is slowly taking shape, but we still need to lay a couple of tons of gravel which will mostly be used to fill in the ditches that were formed when we laid drainage. Before we can do this however, there are a few tons of logs to move so that a lorry can dump the gravel in the right place. I hope you're paying attention! Anyway, Jan and I started shifting the wood whilst constantly being interrupted by the dogs. In a game of 'I want what you've got,' they kept picking up logs and thoughtfully whacking the backs of our legs whilst chasing each other.

Halloween

I like Halloween or, more to the point, I like to see children having some fun. We armed ourselves with goodies yesterday and sure enough they turned up. The first group were very young, accompanied by several parents who were playing musical instruments and singing. I hadn't seen that before but it made a pleasant change. The second group were older, unsupervised and more mischievous. 'Better to stay on the right side of this lot,' I thought, so they went away happy as well. This article surprised me, because we have seen more kids this year than any other.

***

Where has the year gone? It doesn't seem like two minutes ago that I was looking forward to getting my shorts on and heating the pool up. This is all a bit quick for me! Anyway, the morning of 1st November sees me continuing to clean up Christine's computer. It's a bit ancient (a bit like you - Ed.) and keeps hanging. Trying to complete even a simple task takes ages (a bit like you - Ed.) because it is constantly stop, start and it never seems to finish any simple task (a bit like you - Ed.). The answer is probably just to get a new model (a bit like ...... - Ed.).

***

I met Peter, my tennis pal, yesterday and he told me something interesting. He had just returned from his vacation, and he had brought back a German car (a Mercedes Estate) which he had to put through the control tecnique. It failed because it needed two new tyres. He told me that he had bought the tyres for 35 euros each, in Ales, and that they were second hand. Because he was selling the car he wasn't bothered if the tyres weren't new. I queried this and he said that they come out of Germany and that there is quite a big trade in second hand tyres in France. He explained that in Germany you are obliged, each November 1st, to change to winter tyres. Many households have the equipment to change tyres but many others don't, so, come November 1st they go to a garage and buy a new set of winter tyres and 'discard' the old one's. For the same reason, on March 30th you are legally obliged to change back to 'summer' tyres. Alles in ordnung.

Minnie the minx

I went on a mushroom hunt today when we took the dogs out for a walk. Despite the fact that I carried my all new, huntin, shootin and fishin knife, I couldn't find any. Bum. Ah well, I managed to get the dogs to sit still for a couple of seconds and took the photo above. William had me in fits last night with tales of the last time he went to find mushrooms. They drove for miles, arrived before it was light, like an hour before, so had to head for a bar (with two committed drinkers) and then found nothing. They then moved on and drove for another 20 minutes and found a little. Like me he said that you can buy them relatively cheaply (when you take the man hours and petrol into consideration) at the local market. But, and this is the big but, they don't taste as good. Hmmm?

Whilst she is very soft and gentle with us, Minnie is very aggressive when she plays with Max and despite being slightly smaller than him, it already looks like she will rule the roost in a years time. Typical female (he said bitterly)!

***

We'd forgotten that I'd invited Christine round this morning to help her with her computer. We were both still in our pj's when she arrived. Anyway, her machine was in a right mess and when I checked the Windows Update site there were 61 patches to be downloaded. I started at 10.45 and didn't finish that bit until 15.00. Yuk. On top of that, the machine kept freezing and is very low on memory (256 Mb). I ordered some more from Crucial, which is my one stop shop for this type of thing. Recommended.

Q.E.D.

A couple of photos of our trip to the market in Sommieres on Saturday and lunch at Fourneau de Clelia on Sunday. From the top, Elie's daughter making our meat, cheese or spinach filled galettes, middle, the Lebanese sweet things on offer and bottom, Harold and Elizabeth listening intently to something very important that I was saying. (Give me patience - Ed.)

Harold and Elizabeth left this morning and we are sad to see them go. They are good fun and like to eat and drink, which is just as well, because that's all we seemed to do.

***

William, Peter and I started our tennis again this morning. It's the first time in several weeks since we last played. William played particularly well even though he was complaining about a cold. Every time he hit a good shot he said, "I wish I was feeling better!" Conman. With time constraints for all of us we didn't get a full session completed but we did have a good laugh and, more to the point, we got some exercise and the tennis just gets better.

***

Following my rant at the pope yesterday, here's another example of a poor 'religious leader'. All these guys need to start looking at themselves a little more closely, think about what they say more carefully and stop trying to teach others how to lead their lives when they are patently incapable of behaving correctly themselves.

***

Here's something that I have been wrestling with recently. You will note in the paragraph above that I wrote pope with a small 'p'. The other day I wrote God with a capital 'G'. I wrote pope with a small p because I believe that he needs to earn my respect but I feel two faced about writing God with a capital G because I'm an atheist. If I really don't believe in God, should I write the word with an upper case or lower case letter? I was raised a Catholic and was taught by Jesuits (there I go again) but now have little time for the church and do not believe in a God. I do however respect everyone's right to believe in their God and would never impose my will. Should I write god or God? Frankly I'm not sure. If I write god, then I'm honestly expressing my belief, but could start offending people. If I write God then I feel uncomfortable and two faced, but might be keeping him/Him happy just in case there is one/One. How would he/He expect me/Me (now there's another conundrum) to behave? See the things I've got to wrestle with?

***

In the past I have accused Jan of not listening to me. She naturally refutes this. Here's my proof. This morning I reminded her that I had to take the Jeep to Quissac for 11.00 because it is now nearly 4 years old and needs its first control technique. She even repeated back to me, "Oh, you're going to Quissac this morning!" So far so good. Later this morning I shortened our tennis session because I had to leave to go to Quissac. So far so good. After coffee I walked outside to find that Jan had taken the Jeep to her art class and could not be contacted. So far, not so good. Q.E.D.

***

Here's something else I don't understand (you've been thinking too much again - Ed.) There has been a lot of talk recently about 'Green' taxes. All shades of British political parties have joined this bandwagon. As I understand it, if you pollute you will pay a tax. OK, a simple proposal, but pray tell me, if I give Mr Tax Collector a fiver, because I polluted, what exactly will he do with my fiver to plug the ozone layer? Or maybe, just maybe, is this another means of revenue raising? I can't wait!!

***

Out for dinner at William and Christine's tonight. The other guests were Alain (artist) and Christiane his missus. A good evening, which was nice.

Sorry Ben, but it's all just a bit too late

Sorry Ben, but this is just a bit too late. Why has it taken you so long to say something? Why aren't you addressing all the poor unfortunates that have been abused? Why not say sorry? The list goes on.

And, to top it all, you could at least have congratulated Alexandra Rosenfeld a bonny lass from just down the road (Saint-Thibery), who is the current Miss Languedoc, the current Miss France and who has just been crowned Miss Europe. This young, blond, 19 years old beauty wants to travel the world, do good things for orphaned children and the children who have been abused by your priests. Or at least I think that's what she said in her tearful victory speech. Keep up!

***

This quote by Roger Law made me laugh, “I go to the theatre to be entertained. I don't want to see rape, sodomy, and drug addiction. I can get all that at home.”

***

Jan is slowly losing the ability to cook. H&E invited us for lunch, so we all headed for Le Fourneau de Clelia in Aigremomt. It's a 31 euros menu and always our restaurant of choice, especially if someone else is paying. I started with a terrine de foie gras with a chestnut velouté on the side, garnished with girolles mushrooms. For the main course we all had a filet mignon de porc with a honey based sauce and girolles and whole chestnuts on the side. Pudding was huge, and delicious. All this washed down with a Viognier 2005 from Domaine de Grand Chemin and a Mas Foulaquier Les Calades 2000. Highly recommended. I was stuffed for the rest of the day.

Changing flags

If you can't read this, click on the image to enlarge it.

***

The mood was a little quieter at the market this morning and given that we are all going out to the relais this evening for dinner, everyone decided to take it easy. Having said that we still got stuck into some wine and we all trooped off to buy bits for the pique nique which we ate under the arches. I bought a selection of galettes from the Lebanese stall, Bryan brought bread, wine and hummous and Harold bought some savoury tarts and a huge slab of brie de meaux. A great feast. Not to be outdone, the table of friendly French tourists from Alsace behind us chomped (or rather slurped) their way through a mountain of oysters and other goodies. They made us look like amateurs!

***

Eight of us headed off to the relais tonight for dinner. We paid 25 euros per couple for a four course meal with wine. Amazing.

Le Mas de Roux

A friend from Liverpool emailed this morning in a bit of a panic. He is coming to France, for a wedding, with his family next August and he needs at least 7 bedrooms. Everywhere he had tried was full so he turned to me to sort it all out. Within 3 hours I had him fixed up with excellent accommodation at nearby Mas de Roux that suited his needs perfectly. Don't you wish you had a friend like me? (Err, no - Ed.)

***

Because H&E like to eat and drink, and because we sort of like to as well (well blow me down - Ed.), we popped into Domaine de Baubiac at lunch time to pick up some of their delicious red. Nothing extraordinary about that, but when I asked him how much of his year 2000 (my favourite) he had left, he said not much. As an aside to myself I murmured that I'd better buy some more, when he helpfully suggested that he would put away as much as we needed. What a helluva offer. He mentioned a pallet which I think is about 600 bottles but I increased it to 2 because he hadn't counted on Jan! Our own private wine supply kept at the perfect temperature to buy whenever we want. Isn't that nice. Slurp.

***

Because we had dinner with H&E on our own last night, and I couldn't stand another, (just kidding) Jan invited Bryan and Gill over for dinner as well tonight. It was a big one, and the Baubiac went down a treat.

Saint Jan of Cannes

Check this out to see how many people in the US have your name. I checked and found that only one other person has my name. Jan has no one with her name. But then who would want to be called Saint Jan of Cannes.

***

I hate shaving, but having said that my attempt at designer stubble finally ended this morning. The crunch came when I noticed Jan looking at me, out of the corner of her eye, with undisguised contempt. I think it was the beard she was looking at! (Think again - Ed.) Anyway, Jan gleefully hacked at it with some electric sheep shears and despite spilling a little blood it was all off in ten minutes.

***

Harold and Elizabeth arrived for a few days this afternoon. They are friends from this village who moved away last year. I think it was something that Jan said, but I'm not sure!

There must be an easier way

***

Gill and Terry left for England this afternoon but not before we spent a great deal of time trying to get two outside doors open. The rain over the last few weeks had swollen the doors so much that they wouldn't budge. Terry and I sawed, levered and generally forced them open because we needed to get inside to be able to shut down their pool. I even broke a key in one of the locks (oooh, you're so big and strong - Ed.) but managed to fish out the remains with pliers. Fun and games, but eventually successful!