tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24648025702638669072024-03-05T05:09:15.045+00:00Rosemary's travellogAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.comBlogger110125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-48279668986178827512017-01-02T05:52:00.000+00:002017-01-02T05:52:04.718+00:00End of yearWow. I can hardly believe we're nearing the end of 2016. And hence soon on the downward slope of our holiday out here. I hate that point when you realise that there's more time behind you than ahead. In life terms I guess that's around the age of 45!!<br />
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Xmas Day. Well, we did have a barbecue on the beach at Taroona Bay but it was quite late by the time Chris and Elen got away so pics aren't great. Elen swam and pronounced the water lovely and warm - we took her word for it! There was a family group nearby including a student nurse from the department, a keen climber (the vast majority of their colleagues are into some or several sports, one reason Chris loves it here). She and her partner rigged up a tightrope between the trees. Chris was hoping I'd have a go but I'm afraid I chickened out. It had been a very hot day and Jon and I lazed the day away reading in the shade too lazy to go and look at what was going on on the beach, which We should have done. So that was our strange Xmas, apart from phone calls home, burgers, sausages and tightrope walking on the beach.<br />
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We started out by saying we would just spend time here more or less as at home in a very leisurely routine but I've been a bit seduced by the knowledge that I'm sitting on an island I might not visit again. Even if I do, there's lots of exploring out there. Senior-style exploring admittedly. Like finding a good restaurant with a sea view, or organising a temporary disabled badge, or working out a back route home from the shops. My god, that sounds boring. But it hasn't been. Next week we may feel a little younger when we go to the Cygnet Folk Festival. </div>
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Chris and Elen are spending three days as medics at the Falls Festival at the moment, the biggest festival in Tasmania. He'll pay for it with 5-6 days continuous shifts afterwards so we won't see much of him for a while. However middle of the month he has a few days off so we are hoping to go away again for a night or two, up the East coast this time.<br />
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Just heard the news that there was a serious crush at the Falls Festival with 60 injured, 13 seriously. But it was in Victoria, not Tasmania, so there must be several different venues for the same event. That one must have kept the medics busy.<br />
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So what else have we been doing? Continuing to stock our rental with bits and bobs from charity shops such as kitchen utensils and containers, DVDs to watch and books to read. I've been thinking often of our Canadian friend Maryse (who may well read this so I'd better be careful). She and her partner travel a great deal and for long periods. She carries with her her favourite chefs knife, yeast flakes and other equipment she feels essential. Here we had no sharp knife, no containers for left-overs etc, no table mats. I know, I know, you're laughing at me, as indeed I am myself. Maryse wouldn't, I'm sure.<br />
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Now we're all organised the apartment suits us well. Josie is not often around but very pleasant when we meet. We use her washing machine and clothes rack and lovely garden. It only takes us 10 minutes to drive to Chris' or downtown Hobart. Local shops are only 3 minutes away. Nearest barbecues less. We have enough space and it's nice and easy living on one level.<br />
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Rather more entertaining has been discovering many of the lovely bays around here. We are only about 5 miles up the river Derwent so have mostly been exploring both banks of the river and its many inlets and beaches. There are such lovely places and views it has been a pleasure to have the leisure to wander around with Google safely on board to get us home again. With Chris we tend to go to seaside beaches.<br />
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Went to look at electric bikes the other day. They're quite popular here to judge by the number of outlets , though we've not seen many on the road. I'm quite interested in getting one for the future in hope of keeping me going that bit longer. Not a good idea to get one too soon though as I'm sure it would tempt me to be lazy.<br />
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Sorry I havent been able to include photos. For some reason the latest I can call up from the iPad I'm writing on is September. I'll post more to FB so have a look there if you're interested.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-71383382266559422202016-12-22T12:35:00.001+00:002016-12-22T12:35:20.666+00:00Finding our feet<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At last I've taken some photos of our temporary home. There's a lovely garden with separate patios which is perhaps the best thing about it, something not usual except in expensive lettings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">OMG. I'm having so much trouble with this post. I have got photos on my iPad and on my phone, but can I get them into this blog? No way. It will have to wait. It may be because I'm connecting through my mobile. Goodness knows. I'll try another time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We're seeing quite a bit of Chris but the best thing about being here for so long is we don't have to cram things in and can give him plenty of time for himself and with Elen. So our time passes in, up till recently, getting organised here with all the food and equipment we need to survive in a new situation. More recently we have been free to explore. We are gradually exploring the riverside locations upstream. We are a little north of Hobart city in Lutana on the west bank of the river Derwent so we drive upriver staying as close to the water as possible. Lots of creeks and foreshores.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We love the way Australia encourages use of outdoor spaces. Everywhere we go we find parkland with fixed electric or gas barbecues (functioning and not vandalised) and tables and benches. I did tell you all that I had visions of Xmas day barbecuing on the beach but Chris says most barbecues will be booked up! He is working a day shift so won't be free till 6.30. So maybe Jon and I will just go and mingle with the throngs on the beach during the day and BBQ in the evening. We'll see.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On our anniversary we ended up not going out for a posh dinner (surprise?) but Chris took us over to Cygnet, an interesting drive to a lovely little town down south. We had an outdoor organic café lunch. There's a good folk festival there in January every year so we intend to come, though Chris will be working unfortunately.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've just lost a whole load of writing on here so will fill in briefly</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was telling you that we had sleet and snow on the mountain when we were launching Chris on his downward trail ride on his mountain bike (he loves to get a ride up which we can do as we can get his bike in the back of the car). We usually start off by sharing time over coffees at an outdoor coffee stop up there but it was not too comfortable last time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And we had some fun in the charity shop choosing an"old lady outfit" for Chris to go to a party in. At least he didn't even ask me if I had anything suitable!! If you want to see how he looked he's posted a photo on FB.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We've had only one incident here so far which was a bathroom flood. It was a good one though. Hot tap at the basin, no overflow, emptied the hot tank (landlady's too) and so much water that it overtook the sill and soaked a lot of carpet. If it happens to you, the best way to clear the water off a hard surface is a bucket and dustpan. The pan acts as a squeegee.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's now the evening of Thursday 22nd and I'm determined to post this before the 23rd! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We've just spent two lovely days on Bruny Island. Chris had two consecutive days off work and Elen is in Melbourne visiting her family so we went over to Bruny, spending the night in a two bedroom house right on Adventure Bay. It was a gorgeous house with huge windows opening onto a large decking balcony with the most spectacular view of the bay. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We caught a mid-morning ferry and drove down. Stopped at a very popular oyster sales and restaurant. Jon and I don't like fresh oysters but we do like smoked tinned ones so we thought we'd try freshly prepared cooked ones. Tried them WonTon style as little Chinese parcels and ones with bacon in BBQ sauce. Not specially impressed by either so now we know. I can't see what all the fuss is about. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had been told that Cloudy Bay was worth seeing. It meant crossing from E to W via a very rough road - glad Chris was driving, and we weren't always sure where we were. Quite an epic trip. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wish I could show you some of the beautiful white empty beaches surrounded by forests. The waters cold though, but the day temperature is warming up gradually. This evening I am still in a Tshirt at 11.30 but some nights we have been wearing long sleeves and fleeces indoors. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We won't see much of Chris now for a while. He is working over Xmas and New Year and working at a festival in between. So more self-guided exploring for us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So have a really lovely Xmas everyone. I'll do my best to make you all jealous with photos of beaches and sunshine but don't hold your breath, it may never happen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-21602312670099989682016-12-11T04:52:00.000+00:002016-12-11T04:52:07.913+00:00First notes from TasI've decided to keep you updated by reviving the blog.<br />
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We've been in Tasmania just over a week though it seems much longer.<br />
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Airport assistance worked very well for us but the journey took its toll on Jon. He needed a lot of help to stand from his seat so it seemed like he disturbed me every time I was drifting off to sleep. So neither of us slept much in flight but at least we were comfortable in our posh seats.<br />
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7.5 hours to Dubai, 2 hours refuelling and having to go through security again, 13 hours to Sydney, towards the end of which Jon became disoriented, imagining things about the other passengers etc. And he was scared we were going to crash as we landed. 3 hours in Sydney and a change of terminal for the 1.5 hours domestic flight to Hobart. It was such a relief to see Chris waiting for us.<br />
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So soon it was midday and we're at our new home and Chris has to go to work. After looking round the place our new landlady, Josie, took us to the local shops for groceries and a visit to the mobility shop. We're staying in the granny annexe attached to Josie's house so it's nice and spacious and no stairs. There are veggies, herbs and chooks in the grounds and a lovely flower garden. We have our own patio in the garden and the use of the washing machine any time.<br />
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And now we've got to know each other we share Josie's portable modem for WiFi. The signal is too weak to work from one house to the other but our hours are completely different so it works out. Josie works 3 nights at the same hospital as Chris and gives me the router as she leaves. I put it back through the adjoining door when I go to bed. When she's not working she goes to bed very early and gets up about 4am (!) to play computer games online. Couldn't have arranged things better. <br />
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It has taken 4-5 days to get the annexe equipped. For instance, no washing up liquid, no basin plug, no waste basket, and of course it's practically impossible to buy all the necessary food items in one go. So hard to think of all the things you use but expect to be present in the cupboard like salt, cling film etc etc. Fortunately there's a comprehensive shopping centre not far.<br />
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When she saw Jon's mobility Josie spoke to her daughter, also a nurse, who had seen a 4 wheeled walker in a charity shop. By the next day, she had gone to see if it was still there, rung her mum to ask if she thought we would mind paying $35 and delivered it.<br />
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Chris has "hired" us a car from a mate for $125AU a week - about £80. It's a 4WD Subaru estate and its owner says he knows it has quite a few scratches and dents so not to worry if we add any! Tassie drivers are very laid back so I have got away with a few mistakes and late lane changes.<br />
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Most nerve wracking was my first outing. Chris drove us to his place and set my phone navigator for the charity shop I wanted. We needed furniture would you believe - nothing in the bedroom except a wardrobe with no hangers. No drawers or bedside lockers/tables so everything was on the floor. Anyway, we picked up what we wanted at the shop in town and then had to get back home. At this point I realised I didn't know our home address. I could only remember that the road began with a C. Even Chris's address I didn't know as he hasn't been there long and I've never needed it. I thought I had added the locations to my satnav but couldn't find them so it seemed they had not saved properly. At this point I noticed that my phone was nearly out of charge and realised that if it went down i was sunk. I couldn't phone Chris or even tell anyone his number as it was only in my phone. Eventually I did find Chris's location had ended up as a bookmark in the satnav so we drove back there and I was able to retrace my route back "home" from there as he had pointed out the turns as he drove. Lesson learned. First outing in a new place - get everything in line before setting out.<br />
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We were hoping to escape from Xmas out here but I'm afraid it's everywhere - what a surprise! At the weekend there was a teddy run which involved 5,000 bikers riding to the harbour area with toys for charity on their bikes. Chris had arranged to meet us down there so we walked round the market for a while then drifted over to watch the bikes. To our surprise Chris rode past us. He'd found it impossible to park our car after dropping us off as many of the roads were closed off so he'd gone back home and picked up his bike and coming back found himself in the pack of riders.<br />
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I've been a few days writing this bit by bit so it's now Friday 9th, UPDATE . It's our 47th wedding anniversary on Monday and Chris is going to book a good restaurant for us all.<br />
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Other things done - surfing at Sandy Bay - well, watching Chris. And watching Chris and Elen climbing then going on to BBQ. And the cinema last night to see "I, Daniel Blake" which was great but made us so angry. And a local transport museum, mostly steam trains, buses and trams. A couple of nice drives.<br />
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This has been a mammoth catch-up. Don't worry, from now on it'll be much shorter.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-4790179321469794632016-04-26T23:42:00.002+01:002016-12-22T11:11:07.375+00:00Introduction to Santiago ChileJourney uneventful, but even the half-empty plane and two seats to myself didn't enable me to sleep so by the time I got to bed at 11.30 pm on Thursday I had spent nearly 40 hours with only maybe 30-40 minutes sleep. I hate long flights - left home on Wednesday 10:15, arrived Santiago at 08:50 on Thursday (12:50 time in UK). The views of the mountains on approaching to land were amazing.<br />
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DOGS<br />
It's very noticeable. There are dogs everywhere, all very laid-back, peaceful, and healthy and well-fed, but clearly owner-less. They lie around in the streets and traffic goes round them, they come and lie on your feet and want stroking if you sit down, they may accompany you if you are strolling, they even take buses - hop-on, hop-off? <br />
Chris and I took a 3 hour walking tour and learnt how this came about.<br />
Immigrants from rural parts of Ecuador and Peru arrived with their families and their dogs, treating them as they had always done in the countryside, letting them run wild. Eventually the government decided that all these feral dogs had become a problem and organised a public kennel and dog-catching scheme. Dogs were taken off the streets and, if unclaimed, were killed. Inevitably some were killed which did have owners and the public became so angry that they mobilised to render the scheme ineffective by taking the dogs into their homes when the wardens were coming. The scheme was dropped and people continued to care for the street dogs and now you can see everywhere on the pavements bowls of food and water, cushions or cardboard for beds and people even make coats for them. <br />
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<b>VALPARAISO</b><br />
We came over here by bus 1.5 hours, £7 return and it's great. We've been warned about some dodgy parts but it's mostly safe and very friendly but above all colourful. There's a flat strip along the edge of the sea then the town very quickly rises up steeply above with hundreds of steps and lots of funiculars and there are murals and graffiti everywhere and I love it.<br />
We went on a walking tour the first day the best part of which was a mad bus ride up the hilly streets. We learned how the murals came about. Ships coming into the port would leave behind corrugated iron sheets which the locals used to surround and protect their houses. The ships often spent time repainting and left paint behind too which got used to adorn the corrugated sheets. This spread to decorating walls and steps and now it's awash with colour. And I can't show you. Damn.<br />
I've spent lots of time wandering round with my mouth open and camera ready. The port is very much a big commercial one, none of that pretty marina stuff but Chris and I walked along to where the sea lions hang out on a concrete platform just off the beach. Tomorrow we're going to take the bus a short way along the coast to Vina del Mar.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-49822767133583542742015-06-17T00:43:00.000+01:002015-06-17T00:44:46.520+01:00Give way to the right<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We finally solved the mystery of the strange driver behaviour in our village. This came up at our aperos evening. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The main D road goes right through the village but we have observed that many drivers on it give way to the Trebes road which joins it. We have taken the precaution of doing the same but not knowing why we do so here and not in other similar situations elsewhere. This is the answer</span><br />
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<img src="http://www.abelard.org/france/general/nopriorite.png" /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This sign at the entrance to the village means that you have just lost your automatic right to priority and must give way to the right. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is the sign when you're leaving the village and back to having priority.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In practice in Villaier, people mostly only observe it in relation to the (fairly main) Trebes road but I have been given way to when coming out of a very minor side street.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It wouldn't be too bad if the application of the rule were consistent but you definitely can't rely on it! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wonder who spread the rumour that the French had abandoned "priorité à droite"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-8271008054554671432015-06-17T00:23:00.002+01:002015-06-17T00:44:28.406+01:00Apéros <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last week we invited some friends for apéros. These were the hairdresser and her husband, Marie-Anik and Alain, and our new neighbour Laurence, who was kind enough to come and introduce herself when she saw our car parked outside. My hairdresser has always been very patient with my attempts at conversation and last year had us round for apéros with our Canadian visitors.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On that occasion I looked up the rules and found that one should not take wine, as it infers that your host hasn't any - or at least not good taste in wines ! - and should leave by 8.30 at the latest so your hosts can get their evening meal. So we took some chocolates but so enjoyed the company that it was about 9.30 before we left. I wrote a thank-you email afterwards apologising for outstaying our welcome which was very graciously replied to - words to the effect that on an occasion such as that one doesn't watch the time. So far so good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So we invited them this time, along with Laurence who has bought the house at the end of our street. They came at 7 and brought a bottle of rosé and one of champagne. We had lots of nibbles and sat out in the courtyard. As time went on, we replenished the nibbles, and then the wine and eventually, about 11.30, made coffee. They all insisted on clearing and washing up - Jon fell backwards climbing the stairs from the garden, which was a dramatic finish, but pretty well unhurt, though he broke a branch off the hibiscus. So we finished up after midnight, full of olives, biscuits, nuts, bruchettas, fruit etc and wondering who wrote the rule book.</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-6359784463279676402015-05-27T22:55:00.000+01:002015-06-09T23:02:36.513+01:00In the mountainsTwo weeks ago we spent a wonderful few days up in the Pyrenees near Font Romeu. I went walking there two years ago with French friends (some of you may remember pictures of the needle through my big toe on that occasion). At that time we noticed a hotel situated high up but on a plateau with flat walking around, and therefore suitable for Jon. So we finally got round to booking in there for a couple of nights and it was gorgeous. It's at over 2000m so the air was crisp but the sun hot. Just lovely. We took a picnic and walked slowly to a nearby lake.<br />
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While Jon rested after our picnic I wandered off and saw 3 different species of gentians.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Pradelle<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
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Jon so loved it that he walked further than either of us thought he was able to these days.<br />
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The next day we walked about the same distance but along the road this time as the surface of the tracks is quite uneven. Another picnic, this time in a meadow bright with Euphorbias.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was there too</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0Languedoc-Roussillon, France43.149093999201263 0.5273437541.667825999201263 -2.05444325 44.630361999201263 3.10913075tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-55487575170971569642015-05-26T22:15:00.001+01:002015-05-26T22:15:49.547+01:00Cowboys and guinea pigsWe still do not have broadband set up and I have written quite a long piece on my PC without thinking that I have no way of sending it as yet so meanwhile here is just a little amusing incident from Saturday.<br />
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We were having coffee in the square on market day. It's so nice sitting watching all the activity and gathering our strength for the long walk back to the car with our load of fruit and vegetables. As we got up to go a lady at the next table pointed out that Jon's hat was on the ground and not to forget it. She called it a "coo buy" hat. Unfortunately I have been watching a French TV programme called "On n'est pas que des cobayes" (we are not only guinea pigs). It's a popular science programme where they investigate listeners' questions and invent experiments to test them out, ie they act as guinea pigs.<br />
But cobaye didn't sound quite like what she was saying. I had her repeat it about 3 times before I realised she was calling it a cowboy hat. Then I told her I thought she had called it a guinea pig hat which she found quite amusing.<br />
I think the new name might stick ! It goes quite well with his stalking wick. So all a mad dog or Englishman needs when going out in the midday sun is his guinea pig hat and stalking wick.<br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPadAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-12388788595790072122013-10-04T11:44:00.001+01:002013-10-04T11:44:29.214+01:00Electrics, gas and credit cardsWell, we've kind of settled down to thinking the electricity will stay on but one of the consequences of the power cuts was an alarming explosion. We were cooking together on the gas hob the next day when there was an almighty explosion and a smell of singed hair! When we gathered ourselves together, checked that neither of us was injured apart from Jon losing the hair on the back of his hand, we found the reason. In the power cuts we'd had to use a cigarette lighter to light the gas hob and it had been left close to the hob. The heat from the hob made it explode but fortunately it didn't hit either of us. Quite a fright though.<br />
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As to the credit card, a rather tame ending to the story. We got fed up of waiting for it to arrive at our neighbours' and asked at the bank. It had mysteriously arrived that day (!), addressed to us in England and sent to our local branch (which we'd suggested but were told it was impossible). The young lady who has been very helpful all along was clearly delighted, and so were we.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-42356546339887354782013-09-23T18:46:00.000+01:002013-10-12T18:51:44.825+01:00How bizarre<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Ambika's first day with us. It's 5pm and she's dying on her feet having left home about 4 am, so I drag her out on a bike ride</span>.<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> The weather was glorious and we are pedalling along when we hear a man's voice singing a repeated phrase from over in the vineyards to our right. It's lovely and peaceful and then we hear a brass instrument on the left. We're getting nearer and nearer, and when we're very close to the music we see a track leading into the woods. Naturally, we head for the sound, pushing our bikes and wondering what we will find. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Well, we found Michel playing his horn, with his white gloves on (naturally).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He didn't seem to mind us listening so I opened the conversation with (in my best French) "I suppose you are banned from practising in the house?" - my little joke! Very seriously he answered that he was allowed but that it was so much pleasanter out in the woods. We were loving the whole bizarre situation when he offered to play for us and suggested I video him. So I did.</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-30534905585414781152013-09-22T23:47:00.000+01:002013-09-22T23:54:08.536+01:00Electricity woesOn Thursday the power went off in the afternoon. We were expecting Patricia and Mike for dinner here later and had the meal all planned. As the afternoon wore on we went out and bought a couple of torches and began to think up alternative ways of cooking. Sure enough we ended up toasting bruschettas individually over the gas ring (fortunately we have a gas hob) and browning the cheese with a blowtorch. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jon used his soldering blowtorch.</td></tr>
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The roast potatoes became mash.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike's trying to figure out what on earth he's been offered while Patricia's admiring the electric lights in the house opposite.</td></tr>
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During the course of the evening, Mike noticed that other houses in our street now had lights showing - it was just us who remained cut off. The consolation was that it was very atmospheric eating by candlelight.<br />
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The next day I tried to ring EDF but failed the second instruction on the automatic answering system - I think they wanted some detail from my bill and all our bills are in England anyway. Finally got our neighbour Evelyne to ring for me and we discovered there was a second trip we had not known about. Reset that and we had power again! Feeling a bit stupid but relieved.<br />
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Now we were expecting the arrival of an Australian family we met in the hotel in Derby the night before our flight out. This time we planned a barbecue with oven-roasted potatoes. They arrived at 4.30 and guess what? Lights out again about 6pm. Ah ha. We know what to do now, don't we? Reset trip no.1, reset trip no.2 - no way. Both trips immediately turned off. Our newly-made friends spent an hour or more trying to track down the fault, removing fuses and pulling plugs but the trips simply wouldn't reset. So another scratch meal by candlelight. More mash. At least this time we had two appreciative young children who thought it a great adventure going round a strange house by candlelight and torchlight. But two guests sleeping downstairs couldn't use the toilet, shower or basin, as the waste water has to be pumped out and the pump's electric. Poor things were on a big, but rapid European trip and had hopes of showers and hair straighteners, phone charging and WiFi but EDF said Non!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our unlucky Aussie guests enjoying the daylight next day</td></tr>
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We tried the trips again before they left and then rang EDF again. This time I managed the automatic questions better but the result was that the fault lay in the house, not with EDF. Managed to get an electrician to call at 11, and the darn trips obediently reset! So it's a mystery. And remains so, as the power has stayed on since.<br />
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Now the next problem to tackle is my Carte Bleue which the machine ate and the bank can't send the replacement to me as their system says there is no no.5 in our road. The bank says we don't exist so we have to have it sent to the same long-suffering neighbours. Only it hasn't appeared yet, after nearly two weeks and we're beginning to fear it may have gone to England instead!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-27852517673186943872013-09-22T15:37:00.001+01:002013-09-22T15:48:58.588+01:00On the trail of the VisigothsFor a week or more, Patricia, whom I know from Thursday French, and Mike have been camping on the site at Villegly, the next village to ours and we have been spending some time together. Three of us went on a walk called Sur les traces des Wisigoths last week. In a local village near the start of the walk, we were accosted by a very enthusiastic man called Louis who had uncovered thousands of artefacts locally and created a museum to exhibit some of them. He insisted that our walk to a necropolis of some 44 visigoth graves would be incomplete without a visit to his museum. We were to call at his house on our way back and he would come and open up and give us a guided tour.<br />
The graves are very impressive, dating from the 5th or 6th century and resting, as they mostly do, with their open mouths at ground level. There are large ones and small ones, and just so many it's astounding.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The largest, the sarcophagus from which now rests outside the museum</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike and Patricia inside the church of Notre Dame de Lauzes</td></tr>
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After the walk we stopped by Louis' house and he rushed out excitedly to tell us all about his findings. There was no end of fragments of Roman pottery and brooches, pins, door hinges made of bone (using the hole up the middle) and jewellery.<br />
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There were many amphora about one metre tall, used for selling wine and several miniature ones about 25 cm tall. These rested in the neck of a full-size one and contained a sample for sales purposes.<br />
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A pile of Roman coins was accompanied by an anecdotal tale of an old man who had discovered a treasure trove of coins which he kept in a large urn, and gave a handful each to three village women. I didn't gather how this particular handful came to be in the museum - it was hard to keep up as he was desperate to tell us as much as possible in a short time.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-58230995905070936822013-09-22T11:42:00.001+01:002013-09-22T11:42:45.837+01:00Heritage weekendThe first weekend we were here was Heritage Weekend, apparently a European event, though I don't think I've noticed it in England. All manner of buildings and artifacts are open which are not normally accessible and many paying ones are free. We went to Montolieu on the Saturday where there were loads of craft stalls and workshops. Among the most impressive was a conglomerate of local blacksmiths working on a joint artistic design.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the two design boards</td></tr>
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They had five furnaces going and a design chalked on wooden boards.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4_lgBeeAfdk/Uj7CRGZJhCI/AAAAAAAADRc/6YFcPOgh4WE/s1600/IMG-20130914-01210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4_lgBeeAfdk/Uj7CRGZJhCI/AAAAAAAADRc/6YFcPOgh4WE/s320/IMG-20130914-01210.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The communal forge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Each wrought iron piece was worked on separately, holding it periodically against the drawing to check the curves were accurate.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikvo6tYIn0kM7diTUDzg3a0PREP39bCl-n43OJKz09E0iK-sVA83_lt1P8StnbBhdF_k55WVbS86nSEdgde9r74R8JTE2tM7WWAPn0ecTd67QCIUQtxot4OkNT1jvL0ibcKoAkaNRrHf5/s1600/IMG-20130914-01208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikvo6tYIn0kM7diTUDzg3a0PREP39bCl-n43OJKz09E0iK-sVA83_lt1P8StnbBhdF_k55WVbS86nSEdgde9r74R8JTE2tM7WWAPn0ecTd67QCIUQtxot4OkNT1jvL0ibcKoAkaNRrHf5/s320/IMG-20130914-01208.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Checking the curve</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It was a weekend's work so we didn't see the finished article unfortunately. <br />
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On the Sunday we went to Malves, the next village to us, where the chateau was open exceptionally. Only last month when a plaster ceiling was removed, a wonderful painted wooden ceiling was revealed, as fresh as new and dating from the 17th century.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yt--usvQpBc/UjdvFr56HXI/AAAAAAAADSs/Fbi87zj253U/s1600/IMG-20130915-00009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yt--usvQpBc/UjdvFr56HXI/AAAAAAAADSs/Fbi87zj253U/s320/IMG-20130915-00009.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here you can the fleur-de-lys some of which were painted over.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6U48XeCGKiM/Ujdvm8Fs3jI/AAAAAAAADPE/uTjX8_pCvK8/s1600/IMG-20130915-00007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6U48XeCGKiM/Ujdvm8Fs3jI/AAAAAAAADPE/uTjX8_pCvK8/s320/IMG-20130915-00007.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The circle is symbolic of the countryside and the square of industry.</td></tr>
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There were other painted ceilings also and even frescoes on the walls of an attic room.<br />
Interestingly, on the most recently discovered and best ceiling, the guide pointed out rough green painted patches in places, which date from the revolution and covered up fleur de lys decorations as symbols of the discredited aristocracy.<br />
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Later we visited a tiny roadside preRoman chapel with frescoes on the walls but in a sad state of disrepair. Often when attention is drawn to such things, the most important first step is to repair the roof to prevent further damage and it often stops there for lack of funds. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The little chapel with its lovely new roof</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRqNPiGs8BXaJ0UeUbu751eG7torx5siGeRkUy3R1PdR568n4oZXUEkXpJVM_krB9qGp8WImB8vDT0oZMft234_8ERJPdgCb3w8-1HvcQvkjQWvp0EH4FaC0AninJv08tt_k-geOkIeCU/s1600/IMG-20130915-01238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRqNPiGs8BXaJ0UeUbu751eG7torx5siGeRkUy3R1PdR568n4oZXUEkXpJVM_krB9qGp8WImB8vDT0oZMft234_8ERJPdgCb3w8-1HvcQvkjQWvp0EH4FaC0AninJv08tt_k-geOkIeCU/s320/IMG-20130915-01238.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ancient wall frescoes</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-27628875513464822872013-06-24T19:22:00.001+01:002013-06-24T19:22:20.668+01:00World music dayThis was started in France in 1982 on June 21st as a day when performers, both amateur and professional, were encouraged to make music in the streets and to give free concerts. It was taken up enthusiastically and has since spread to 110 countries. (Including Great Britain - did we know?)<br />
In our village here it took the form of a concert given by schoolchildren and the local school of dance. We went into the lower town of Carcassonne to catch a concert by the municipal orchestra and choir who were set up by the river on Friday evening. The standard was not great but the most bizarre thing was when a woman came out of the choir and approached a man in the audience (seemingly her dance partner) and proceeded to perform a very complex and intricate dance as the orchestra performed a piece of modern music. They then hung around like dancers after a country dance, waiting to see what the orchestra would play next and whether it would be suitable to dance to. Apparently not, as when the next piece started they kissed and went back to their places.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsd-FV1ZKecQJvLrD7X4OIhJKCS24evoep7ip-ksE_H6fcu2fD0c4wCKzhV18ZZ6O094gHEwmFahWS0bHlulXWFN8JoYNzMwGHOqPj7vyu5cYcsiTI8uaBSANKIrkFQzJ6FSdkqlUUs-u/s1600/IMG-20130621-00990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsd-FV1ZKecQJvLrD7X4OIhJKCS24evoep7ip-ksE_H6fcu2fD0c4wCKzhV18ZZ6O094gHEwmFahWS0bHlulXWFN8JoYNzMwGHOqPj7vyu5cYcsiTI8uaBSANKIrkFQzJ6FSdkqlUUs-u/s200/IMG-20130621-00990.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
And since I've just accidentally deleted the picture of the dancers, all I can show you is the view as we returned.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-42567587087640622912013-06-21T14:41:00.000+01:002013-06-21T14:41:59.969+01:00Rustiques museumAnother triumph over a French attitude towards times and appointments. We wanted to see the museum but it is only open on Tuesdays and Fridays from 10 - 12.<br />
Duly there at 10 am (one of us by bike, even!) the museum was firmly shut. A notice on the door informed us there was a village walk at 10 am starting from the campsite, but omitted to mention that the guide was one and the same person who led the museum visits.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsIyXOJ9GdiJIS62krlIp9MDr265Iu9endPnk2Ufy1Lqjddm2HHrLqBVTps0D10CtPiGH5HlQCRQWmHR4vOC6c51WTe_NSKlyZTSDqpku_W8lIxVbZpS_efhkeJ_tkHc9PZQTuuNaLqDwr/s1600/IMG-20130621-00979.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsIyXOJ9GdiJIS62krlIp9MDr265Iu9endPnk2Ufy1Lqjddm2HHrLqBVTps0D10CtPiGH5HlQCRQWmHR4vOC6c51WTe_NSKlyZTSDqpku_W8lIxVbZpS_efhkeJ_tkHc9PZQTuuNaLqDwr/s320/IMG-20130621-00979.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le guide, a Belgian who speaks 7 languages.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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We waited for 15 minutes then asked. "Oh, he will be leading the village walk. You'll find him easily somewhere in the village. Try the chateau or the church". OK, we wander around as suggested but no luck so we went to Trebes to find a coffee. At 11.30 we thought we'd just try our luck and return to Rustiques to see if they had ended up at the museum by any chance. Just giving up for the second time as there was no sign of life, they all suddenly appeared accompanied by the old man whose 40 year archeological collection founded the museum in 2001.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-3ohtkRB21AIe2klmnmlZwl5fY3cAqcf0Dw6_jaff06FHCErxg2Juo_tlxkoo620t2tVo381RhSiZ-kR-Ff0A_mpYQdpWNlvJx4wgflG6QP6k9j793gXmhPgDfF-SmM9k2LuHwmgvSAt/s1600/IMG-20130621-00982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-3ohtkRB21AIe2klmnmlZwl5fY3cAqcf0Dw6_jaff06FHCErxg2Juo_tlxkoo620t2tVo381RhSiZ-kR-Ff0A_mpYQdpWNlvJx4wgflG6QP6k9j793gXmhPgDfF-SmM9k2LuHwmgvSAt/s320/IMG-20130621-00982.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jean Nicoux,the archeologist, and part of a statue</td></tr>
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And here was another surprise. In such a small place we expected a very rustic dusty collection of disorganised exhibits but far from it. He had been a meticulous collector and recorder of his finds; everything was well documented and fragments of pottery placed on photographic reproductions so you could see what the whole thing would have looked like. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M Nicoux describes some of his finds.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkt8R4azueLUwvNqqZytk8n60uXOooxvqwtkRm1AKuto24CnZ_CxzSmj_F2BtmvKaTwPJGImfT8iLXE5Fhd_qzTYcLOGsx9zhZOZ0OrCz-hiiB4-bhRU6VHXqZyxoBg4kVIA-UvgwO_XsV/s1600/IMG-20130621-00983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkt8R4azueLUwvNqqZytk8n60uXOooxvqwtkRm1AKuto24CnZ_CxzSmj_F2BtmvKaTwPJGImfT8iLXE5Fhd_qzTYcLOGsx9zhZOZ0OrCz-hiiB4-bhRU6VHXqZyxoBg4kVIA-UvgwO_XsV/s320/IMG-20130621-00983.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
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The old man was easy to understand and eager to tell us all about his collection of mostly gallo-roman pottery, coins etc, but also some prehistoric tools and so on. One item was a small piece of gold jewellery with a phallic symbol which he explained the Roman women would wear to illustrate their husbands' virility. He had nearly missed it down in the ground until a sudden ray of sun caught it and made it glint. <br />
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We also heard how it took him 25 years to get permission to excavate two niches outside the church, which turned out to contain the remains of 9 and 4 bodies, on top of which were remnants of statues presumably destroyed during the revolution and buried in there.<br />
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All in all a worthwhile visit and now on to the next thing, as today is the National Day of Music. All over France there are concerts and dances and soirees, so we're off to find some.....<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-20847789924630936192013-06-21T13:41:00.000+01:002013-06-21T13:44:31.849+01:00Rustiques - a tiny village with a big heartLast week this little village of 500 inhabitants celebrated the opening of its signed tourist walk. We went to join in with Marie-Renee and Michel and were surprised to find many of the villagers in costume to introduce us to various of the historical waymarks on the way round. There were lepers, aristocrats and peasants, Roman soldiers and so on.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two rather jolly lepers</td></tr>
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Round we all went, from site to site, learning about the ownership of the chateau, hearing from an 87 year-old about his experience of the resistance in the seciond world war, looking at photos of women washing clothes in the stream, one of whom still lives there, seeing the site of the communal bakery - every 24th loaf had to be given to the seigneur in the chateau.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZ4BEAMZ3K4pv1KW066E8WIN6j9GyrbJep_WlhcHDfLVS0wV6M5nu9Qs1LUW9KnNlE7775MZWIWAjCbgj5QV4DtSug4lYK6mY5-OZWXp5_Wo1JxRtQl6rBNmCWlGbbO0eGNSLhoYXDFbW/s1600/IMG-20130614-00937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZ4BEAMZ3K4pv1KW066E8WIN6j9GyrbJep_WlhcHDfLVS0wV6M5nu9Qs1LUW9KnNlE7775MZWIWAjCbgj5QV4DtSug4lYK6mY5-OZWXp5_Wo1JxRtQl6rBNmCWlGbbO0eGNSLhoYXDFbW/s320/IMG-20130614-00937.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mercifully brief introductions (mostly)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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We had invited our friends to eat with us after this event and so had prepared a complete four course meal but our plans went awry. The procession ended up at the village hall, led by the brass band and we were swept up and inside for "aperos". Having taken a quick look and decided to head back, we were spotted and told it was out of the question, so we ate beautiful canapes and had a drink or two and staggered back about 8.30, unable to eat more than the starter and dessert. Next day we shared the main course with our neighbours so it all worked out well!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-10675215511157035902013-06-21T06:56:00.000+01:002013-06-21T06:56:32.297+01:00House valuationOne of the two estate agents has come back to us and it appears we have lost about 30% on the house - so far! We're not too surprised but its hard to find anywhere smaller we like better, and when we look we come back to realising how much we love this one so our hearts are not in it for moving. It's just a pity the village is not more lively.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-29121518935833726912013-06-20T21:21:00.000+01:002013-06-20T21:31:30.586+01:00Passing it on - French inheritance lawsToday we went to Toulouse to see an English-speaking lawyer about what happens to our house out here when either or both of us die. French law is very different from English in this respect. We had read up about it and it seemed that in our particular circumstances we need do nothing special, but we keep reading dire warnings so thought it best to check up.<br />
We are joint owners of the house and the way the law operates here, if one of us dies, their half will be inherited equally by our two boys and the surviving spouse. So the survivor will retain ownership of 1/2 + inherit 1/3 of the other 1/2 - ie 2/3. The boys would own 1/6 each. Fortunately we didn't have to go into what happens if there are other children from earlier marriages - things get even more complicated!<br />
This all sounds very odd to us English but apparently the rest of Europe is similar - its we who are the odd ones out.<br />
Anyway, after due deliberation, and finding out that we had correctly understood the situation, we have decided to leave things as they are, but at least it feels tidier somehow to have made a fully-informed decision.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-8381975906767217482013-06-15T21:09:00.003+01:002013-06-20T21:28:11.880+01:00Hens' nests in trainingOne of our favourite road signs brings out the childish in us as we can't help translating it literally into English - as above. It actually says "NIDS DE POULE EN FORMATION". The nids de poules, or hens' nests are potholes. Formation usually means training but probably here has the meaning we are used to in English.<br />
Our other favourite is PARKING SUBMERSIBLE. We didn't actually see it immediately after the recent rain storm of June 8 which flooded us and many of our neighbours but, judging by the debris the day after, it lived up to its name.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-68665622001722033302013-06-13T21:00:00.000+01:002013-06-20T21:28:14.839+01:00And more expense!Now we have a new noise coming from the van. Investigations - badly bent suspension arm, due to the knock we took. €353. The only good thing to come out of it was finding excellent and friendly service locally. Lovely friendly team of guys who didn't seem to mind dealing with people who largely spoke gibberish. Fortunately we have adopted a common French attitude towards their vehicles, which perhaps has come about due to the incredibly narrow streets in many villages, which is simply to shrug their shoulders at scrapes and dents - c'est la vie. We are now proudly Gallically dented and scraped - and out of pocket too.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-56120984773603737242013-06-08T20:57:00.000+01:002013-06-20T21:28:24.115+01:00Oh la la! The expense!While Fredi and Seb were here, when returning one evening we ran into a large road grid which had been left sticking up so that we hit it hard with the front wheel, making a huge hole in the tyre. Job for the blokes, when you've got two of them on hand, so Fredi and I carried on our conversation in the back of the car until the spare wheel was fitted. When they'd gone back we went to replace the tyre - €97 - and were told we must replace the other front tyre too, as there was too much difference in wear otherwise - €194. At this point I remembered that there had been an offer on when we bought the originals (which were only necessary because French law requires vehicles to adhere to their original specifications and our van had wider tyres when we bought it). Suddenly found ourselves delighted to be able to claim a reimbursement - 25% of the wrecked tyre price. I've filed the paperwork so if it works out that'll be €170 - only! Thanks very much to the jokers who lifted that grid out and were probable watching when we hit it.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-70960823637090219122013-06-04T11:07:00.005+01:002013-06-20T21:28:24.118+01:00I'm back!<br />
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I came back to France this time determined to maintain the blog from time to time so here we go.<br />
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We started off spending a week with friends visiting us from England. We tried to warn them that the weather wasn't up to the usual South of France standard but I don't think they quite believed us. Fortunately we had clothes to lend them.............<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fredi and Seb suitably attired for the South of France</td></tr>
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Of course we still got out and about and had a lovely time in spite of the weather,<br />
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but <i>saperlipopette </i>was it cold! (that's my latest and favourite French word, from the local newspaper and translates as <i>Zounds </i>or <i>Struth</i>)<br />
Since they went back last Thursday we've been to dinner with Marie-Renee and Michel, our friends from Pennautier, and at the weekend visited two gardens taking part in the national Open Gardens Day. One was in the grounds of an old water-driven forge near Montolieu, the book village (like Hay-on-Wye)<br />
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and the other was the restored gardens of the Abbey of Fontfroide. It was actually sunny for the latter, this being Sunday, and not only were the gardens lovely, but there was a quintet playing classical music under the trees. My customary detailed examination of the local papers (!) meant that we were able to time our visit to include one of their performances.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quartet Dolmitia +1</td></tr>
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Jon was more interested in the design of these chairs with seats and backs made from sprung steel. When you sit on them they give and are almost bouncy. Amazingly comfortable.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">This week we have started
to follow up on our constant feeling that the house is over-large and
the village not the most lively. So we have approached two estate
agents to request valuations. We need to know how much we are going to
lose by selling, and this is just part of trying to make things easier
for the boys if we still own property out here when we die! Cheerful
subject? </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-58176048086240942852012-11-14T22:19:00.002+00:002012-11-14T22:27:22.932+00:00Knives in the kitchen and table tennis trauma.<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What a year for accidents! In late July I stabbed my hand with a kitchen knife, opening a cardboard box, and cut the nerve supplying sensation to the thumb. I had it surgically repaired but, the repair being delicate, was forbidden to use scissors or secateurs, to open bottles or jars or, worst of all, to play table tennis or badminton or ride my bike. I managed a bit of left-handed gardening and started power-walking to make up for the lack of exercise then went to France in September. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the time I came back on October 10th I was looking forward to being allowed to resume all my activities so I went eagerly to table tennis the next day. After 2 or 3 games I slipped in some water on the floor and did the splits at high speed. I would not recommend you try this for the first time at 67! Definitely best left to toddlers or gymnasts. The main muscle of my hamstrings tore away from the pelvic bone and the resulting internal bleeding caused the whole leg to swell and bruise alarmingly. Back to square one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After weeks of limping or sitting around with my leg up and ice packs on, the swelling has almost gone and I am now able to get around reasonably well and use an exercise bike. The orthopaedic surgeon does not recommend surgery at my age (!) so it's lots of physiotherapy and hoping to regain about 80% function over the next 8 to 12 months. The muscle will remain detached. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think my badminton days are probably over but will try table tennis again eventually, if I dare. I've been teasing Jon that at least my fall was a sports injury, unlike his. </span><br />
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This is how my foot looked when the blood and fluid finally ended up there.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you're wondering about the thumb, there are recent signs of nerve regrowth. It's not exactly sensation but I can feel a sort of tingling when it's touched. So I keep prodding it to see what it's up to. It will just take its own sweet time, but it does seem to be trying. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So that's me for the time being. I'm so glad I slipped in a wonderful week hiking with my French friends in September in the Cerdagne mountains near the Spanish border. The memories of that will have to sustain me over the winter. I'll post some pictures of that trip next</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-21748657039878188062012-10-06T16:30:00.000+01:002012-10-06T16:30:48.736+01:00Old school friends<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cold drinks at the wine bar in Trebes</td></tr>
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I just had my old school friends, Paddy and Bev and Bev's wife Elly staying with me here in France for a few days. Four days is not long enough really to adequately show people the area, but I did my best. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY7poVtsm1dnl3aVthFBSPCbrF8DvhujwkRULl86UyPQPBVyIRkmoBKf1jCZEe3sNZqzz-ZNKli3IBqh3erETlScXcBXFHJrQ_iW6V915hN0jspAOfPWDzMQ-7-MgezMym5prpyAGkpXC5/s1600/IMG-20120919-00572.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY7poVtsm1dnl3aVthFBSPCbrF8DvhujwkRULl86UyPQPBVyIRkmoBKf1jCZEe3sNZqzz-ZNKli3IBqh3erETlScXcBXFHJrQ_iW6V915hN0jspAOfPWDzMQ-7-MgezMym5prpyAGkpXC5/s320/IMG-20120919-00572.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bev and Paddy in Cabaret</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA08pNvOaNwUCepq1I5_vQg1gubsbu4fG2GC9JjciR4tH2UHEPHuU_jkRS65RFwq6vr2464PMj1uvU8-MGDVni3-zv67QGo8tWsq1lSoqf4ylRGAdQ9I4As82aRLXUIfvricBAjtUV_rkM/s1600/IMG-20120919-00573.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA08pNvOaNwUCepq1I5_vQg1gubsbu4fG2GC9JjciR4tH2UHEPHuU_jkRS65RFwq6vr2464PMj1uvU8-MGDVni3-zv67QGo8tWsq1lSoqf4ylRGAdQ9I4As82aRLXUIfvricBAjtUV_rkM/s320/IMG-20120919-00573.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some view</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuA76UYJW637KaU4IMdsN75G_77DBVJJ44rHU0intNufBfyrGvwTzilbHYP0pBYMw6P1AfRsetO_YvoakctQJ8ZHIHE0VoT-PBkB02H3XF7g8wbunBgqov8FnyNRj_6UdZyB0hb2pGZqQc/s1600/IMG-20120920-00574.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuA76UYJW637KaU4IMdsN75G_77DBVJJ44rHU0intNufBfyrGvwTzilbHYP0pBYMw6P1AfRsetO_YvoakctQJ8ZHIHE0VoT-PBkB02H3XF7g8wbunBgqov8FnyNRj_6UdZyB0hb2pGZqQc/s320/IMG-20120920-00574.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtyard supper - note tub of ice cream in front of Paddy!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9ywjsky8XInWuw4N6Jzcj2mIefH6gLJPBDGPkjhbTwyP0FTLancls9J07nPrFjQ75kGO96NNmEiXkO7qgyiKENwYSBbiAWH8JpIL5mg-KS7pxsH7bgXTo_3BE8-GrHJk-9Gmvs5Og7RA/s1600/IMG-20120920-00577.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9ywjsky8XInWuw4N6Jzcj2mIefH6gLJPBDGPkjhbTwyP0FTLancls9J07nPrFjQ75kGO96NNmEiXkO7qgyiKENwYSBbiAWH8JpIL5mg-KS7pxsH7bgXTo_3BE8-GrHJk-9Gmvs5Og7RA/s320/IMG-20120920-00577.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<tr align="right"><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1m6AGSzIvv52cmro7DiX62VUBSv0Jt2w4rqfslvAcfsk79XnOISpDtYbIzyWLw9o9-Nc_P77QKq1duimRtUus9So_A8Dw6wVmJjFIYoqaOkUcjVHLXP9qP7Vzyui-4asbKsBPYvj92oZ/s1600/IMG-20120922-00579.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1m6AGSzIvv52cmro7DiX62VUBSv0Jt2w4rqfslvAcfsk79XnOISpDtYbIzyWLw9o9-Nc_P77QKq1duimRtUus9So_A8Dw6wVmJjFIYoqaOkUcjVHLXP9qP7Vzyui-4asbKsBPYvj92oZ/s320/IMG-20120922-00579.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farewell photo. The old house will miss you.</td></tr>
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The favourite trip was to Las Tours but we also walked along the canal at Trebes, visited the old walled city of Carcassonne, looked at the climbing rocks at Notre Dame du Cros, picnicked, saw flamingoes at Bages, and rescued an injured dog at Peyriac sur Mer. Lots of eating and drinking too, of course. But still to come, for the next visit, the upper reaches of the Montagne Noire, the very different countryside of the garrigue, exploring the origins of the Canal du Midi, the amazing city of Minerve and ..................</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Y8Yci0BGO5M-nxJos37EGTVIZQrB0WHXMtGMub4oW9C37l4ZcBJ9_cCVSXGtLOcOG7Kpygo1olhGbRXLS3lQ2kRX0BUQoy3NCS_Xh2bDAVfh4NNgPgchF9WVnlrG7Z-xPlZ9w4ZmWdJH/s1600/IMG-20120922-00580.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Y8Yci0BGO5M-nxJos37EGTVIZQrB0WHXMtGMub4oW9C37l4ZcBJ9_cCVSXGtLOcOG7Kpygo1olhGbRXLS3lQ2kRX0BUQoy3NCS_Xh2bDAVfh4NNgPgchF9WVnlrG7Z-xPlZ9w4ZmWdJH/s320/IMG-20120922-00580.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colourful last-minute shopping.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZJ_4S9yGwYA7zOOZ_J3b4Gvi6VZEtEqQLoJsB3ad-rYVKGO1M8xrHo-MOdCq6RRjBNf7d8cvqphQTeRAg6zzJL_7t4Yg5zoYqOTojDSIiPQpte1NHDlKJ3yAEfXHy-qKXK3WBhXWBrQx/s1600/IMG-20120922-00582.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZJ_4S9yGwYA7zOOZ_J3b4Gvi6VZEtEqQLoJsB3ad-rYVKGO1M8xrHo-MOdCq6RRjBNf7d8cvqphQTeRAg6zzJL_7t4Yg5zoYqOTojDSIiPQpte1NHDlKJ3yAEfXHy-qKXK3WBhXWBrQx/s320/IMG-20120922-00582.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What, more peppers?</td></tr>
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After they left I threw myself into the huge task of drastically pruning the fig tree which was taking over the courtyard, as the weather was expected to turn very stormy. It didn't materialise in fact but it made me get on with the job. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464802570263866907.post-43566987906734593642012-06-19T12:39:00.000+01:002013-06-20T21:28:43.998+01:00Recycling a la francaiseOur village is in the process of introducing kerbside recycling. It seems the French (or maybe this region particularly) does not perform well in recycling. So they're introducing an incentive scheme. New bins will be equipped with barcodes identifying their household and the landfill waste will be weighed as it is collected. The individual's council tax will be reduced according to the diminution of household waste. Great idea to incentivise recycling but they won't let us use it. I thought it would be great for us as we pay all year round for about three months services and it looked like we'd get something back. However, they've taken away our old bin and will only provide us with yellow bags. I protested vehemently at the Mairie but was told that we should examine our next council tax bill and if we felt we were being overcharged, there was a period during which we could challenge it. So that will be the next French Bureaucracy challenge!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11230326555879726891noreply@blogger.com0