Give way to the right

We finally solved the mystery of the strange driver behaviour in our village. This came up at our aperos evening.  
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

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. 


This is the sign when you're leaving the village and back to having priority.

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.
It wouldn't be too bad if the application of the rule were consistent but you definitely can't rely on it! 
I wonder who spread the rumour that the French had abandoned "priorité à droite"

Apéros

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.
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.

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.

In the mountains

Two 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.

That's the hotel, Les Bones Hores, in the background

While Jon rested after our picnic I wandered off and saw 3 different species of gentians.

Lake Pradelle

Jon so loved it that he walked further than either of us thought he was able to these days.





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.

I was there too

Cowboys and guinea pigs

We 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.

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.
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.
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.


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Electrics, gas and credit cards

Well, 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.

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.

How bizarre

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. 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. 
Well, we found Michel playing his horn, with his white gloves on (naturally).

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.

Electricity woes

On 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. 

Jon used his soldering blowtorch.

The roast potatoes became mash.

Mike's trying to figure out what on earth he's been offered while Patricia's admiring the electric lights in the house opposite.

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.

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.

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!

Our unlucky Aussie guests enjoying the daylight next day

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.

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!