End of the visit

On Sunday we looked for the famous Moulin du Sap restaurant, which is still on the tourist websites although it was for sale earlier in the year. Finally found it: closed, empty, not even a Sold sign on it. Such a beautiful building, slowly being drowned in creepers. From there it's not far to Port Maubert which has a small hotel-restaurant and a snack bar. We chose the snack bar crêperie, mostly because it has tables by the water. Cheap and very cheerful, and not bad for sausage-n-frites; they do a breton range of galettes too, all served with plastic cutlery and plates by the whole family including youngsters.

Monday was a fairly quiet day. We went out to local superette and bought tomato plants, and I was gently scolded by the shop-owner for buying pastries and ice-cream. He's such a flirt. The tomato plants were tucked into one of the big blue half-drums, which have been moved next to the terrace and therefore near the water-tap. One of them still has a box-hedge in it, nicely trimmed now, which needs planting somewhere.

Tuesday was the last day of the visit, so a special meal out was in order. After quite a lot of websearching we set off up the coast to the Moulin des Monards which we'd passed on Saturday. Somehow, finding it from the south proved difficult, and it was a waste because when we did get there it turned out to be closed on Tuesdays (not mentioned on any of the websites). We went back along the road to Touvent and into a hotel-restaurant on the main junction. It wasn't very appealing, and in the end we left and headed south to Lorignac. By this time the Lori had finished doing food; the Anglo restaurant in St Ciers du Taillon was open but full of some kind of event with bbq (I think it was the Anglo-Britannique monthly meet and we could have joined in but there was a huge queue for food). Back on the road to Mirambeau where we passed the Snack which didn't look suitable and went to the main hotel (too late for food) and the pizzeria (40 minute wait for it to be cooked). In the end, late and very hungry, we tried the Snack (L'Oasis), although it looked deserted. The owner said no problem, open for as long as we liked, and he had a better menu than the one on the board. A proper menu! I went for the 3-course for 11 euros, and the others selected from the carte. Excellent food. S finally sampled the local drink Pineau, and appeared to like it - W had one sip and when she looked at it for another it was all gone! The owner was friendly and cheerful and practised some English on us, and his two smallish sprogs laid the tables as more people arrived later. The tourist information says they are open until 11pm, but it was almost midnight when we left and the party was just warming up.

Delivery and electrickery, cherry-ripe

The bread delivery-van which comes to the hamlet on Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday has a rather quiet horn, and today I didn't hear it. Bread delivery-person appeared in the kitchen with my baguette and said not to worry if I don't get down to the road, because [trans.] she "doesn't speak well but her legs work ok" (she's had throat cancer).

And then someone phoned from EDF to ask if I really really want the 3-phase changed to single-phase today because it will cost lots to change it and contrary to what callcentredroid said it costs no more on the standing charge, and he also assured me that it's not a problem for new work. So it's not being changed; however, sorry to disappoint certain friends, I'm not putting in any large machinery.

And for lunch I have the rest of a large bag of cherries from neighbour's tree.

Nice people - *happy sigh*

Though now I have to tell the electrician that she will have to work with 3-phase.

Fête de la Musique in Saintes

Saturday was very hot and not the best day for a long drive, but $Friends had selected from the options for Fête de la Musique the rock and punk bands playing in Saintes from early evening. We had a quick look at the amphitheatre in the bright sunlight and huddled in the shade of the café, and then went to find the street where the main performances would be. There was a disabled-parking space on the next road which looked ideal - unfortunately the car in the space behind was crumpled and waiting for a tow-truck which had just driven past without being able to stop, so I stayed to move my car when it returned. The tow-truck went past again, in the opposite direction. My sympathies to the driver: I have exactly the same problem in cities. Anyway, by the time the broken car had been removed, we'd discovered that this street would also be closed to traffic for the Fête. We decided to leave the car there, as we thought we'd be staying until the end, and went to look at the Arch of Germanicus. It really was too hot for touristing, but the little museum (a curious building made up of random bits of Roman houses, walls, and mausoleums rescued from construction works) was cool and shady.

Food proved to be problematic. Some places were closed by the time we were hungry (local people eat the main meal at midday, and it isn't full tourist season yet), and the one we chose had speakers being installed. We thought they were for the bands on the stage, but no - canned music. When they started up we could hear the canned music, the bands, a jazz band down the street, and a cheerfully crap marching-style band being towed around. Plus, when the wind changed, the singers from the other side of the river. All at once. I didn't survive long, and we went to look for somewhere else to eat. Serendipity struck, and there was a dinky tea-shop. A really real tea-shop with decorated teapots for sale - and decorated everything else you could think of. Very well done, and appealing for that reason, though art-crafty is not my taste. The place had been beautifully renovated. (There is a walled courtyard at the back of the tea-shop, which gave me an idea for the little house across the lane here. It needs a lot of work, and it would make a gorgeous courtyard if the battered roof were just removed instead of mended. I'm not sure my neighbours would approve, though.) The food was delicious, and we even had Cake; the proprietor didn't seem to mind us hanging around, though we'd arrived just before closing time and she had to wait quite a long time for us to finish eating and exploring the things for sale.

Fortified by good food, we returned to see what the bands were up to. Disappointing. We were very tired, too, and it seemed preferable to attempt to get the car out of the closed road and go home. The road was now full of bands and karaoke, all crammed together in full earshot, with tables and chairs outside all the cafés. I wasn't comfortable about trying to drive through, but $Friends politely asked people to move their chairs, and dragged the barrier aside, aided by a lad who jumped up to help. Everyone was perfectly good-natured about it, not even a glare.

Solstice

Today was summer solstice, so we took the coastal (estuary) route to St Georges de Didonne to watch the sun set over the Atlantic.

The morning had been cloudy but by late afternoon it was clear and hot, and still warm when we set out around 7pm. There were a few stops on the way to take photos of odd buildings and interesting views, and we got to Meschers only just in time to eat at one of the restaurants in the port (very yum). It's not far from there to St Georges but the road goes mainly west and the sun was low, huge, and very bright, making driving difficult.

It looked like there would be a better view from the north side of the town, where I haven't been before, and it was indeed better. We parked above a small rocky cove with miniature cliffs and rock-pools and a tiny sandy beach, and watched as the sun set in red-gold splendour. It was still a little light when we got home at almost 11.

La Poste

I love the way the postal service works in rural France. The postie drives round in a bright yellow van, letting us know that they're in the hamlet by sounding the horn so if one wants to send a letter or buy stamps one can go out to them. When I first arrived the postmistress knocked on the door to welcome me and explain how it works.

Today I had a packet which needed signing for, so the postie pulled up in the drive, sounded the horn, and came into the kitchen. I asked him how to send a registered letter[0]. He said he'd bring the form tomorrow and help me fill it in, and take the letter.

Posties in England used to be like this, but many of them are now so stressed and disenchanted they take it out on customers, and do all kinds of unfriendly things to speed up their work.

[0] A complaint to the electricity company who are trying to take 150 euros a month on direct debit, when I've used about 15 euros' worth of electricity. Unfortunately my experiences with EDF have not been nearly as happy as with La Poste.

Of Bordeaux lake and renovations

Bordeaux again yesterday, this time to the airport. I left in plenty of time and noted a few useful-looking restaurants within 15 miles. The drive was fine until the Rocade (by-pass) around Bordeaux, where suddenly the driving demonstrated a lack of signalling and lane-discipline, as well as a tendency to sound horns as loudly and aggressively as possible. Bordeaux is rather like a smaller Paris, after all.

I'd gone early to do some shopping in Ikea in the Bordeaux-Lac: a curious mix of holiday park and hypershops, and flyovers giving marvellous views of the water. I spent too much in Ikea and could have bought much more, but put back the bedside lamps and merely sighed wistfully at the beds and sofas and bookcases. Anyway, there are now enough mugs and duvets and blankets for planned visitors, and things to stand on when getting out of the shower and bath.

These visitors are sleeping in what is designated as the dining-room on the plans, having tried the stairs and refused to use them. Looks like the stairs should be fixed before the upstairs room/shower-room is done; and before a staircase can be installed, the mezzanine floor needs to be finished. Guess what Casa Nova left off the quotation...

Saturday 14th

Back to Bordeaux, which was a pleasant drive until we reached the queue into the city where the roadworks are. By the time we got in, there wasn't time to see any of the old city. Driving back without using the toll (RHD argh) I got lost again and ended up further west than planned, going through St Vincent de Paul; a serendipitous find. Beautiful town, and a fascinating bridge too.

There are so many lovely places to see and all I'm doing at the moment is noting them for later exploration, though I feel guilty planning more driving because of the fuel/global warming situation.

Friday 13th

Friday was my birthday and we celebrated with a meal out. We decided to sample one of the local restaurants. Le Lori has big advertising signs up on the approach to Lorignac, but it's not as fancy as that would suggest. However, they don't serve food until 8pm and we'd planned to go to a concert at 9 so we just had orange juice and asked if there was somewhere else. Le Doublon in the same village was suggested. It looks somewhat unprepossessing, and had a rough sign outside saying "Moules and frites", not at all the kind of place to go out for dinner, so we ended up back at the restaurant in St Ciers. Um. Friday night is fish'n'chip night. Fortunately they had the regular menu too - I had steak and sis#3 had salmon. The steak and salmon were fine, but the big chips weren't, and the pudding (chocolate mousse, the only dessert on the menu without alcohol) was very disappointing.

We missed the concert: I'd eaten too much and went home and fell asleep.

Housewarming, Saintes, beach, and rat-traps

On Monday we did some serious shopping and bought far too much food and drink for the little housewarming "apéro". Everyone I'd invited directly turned up, though the young French couple with baby came late and didn't stay long. The French-English divide was only slightly uncomfortable at first, and ended with the older French neighbour gleefully demonstrating all his English (or at least the clean phrases, with his wife keeping an eye on him).

People had a look round the place and confirmed their opinion that I am quite mad to be here alone. I explained that the original plan wasn't to have been here by myself, it just all fell down and I carried on anyway. Ah, yes: that's the mad part. EPTN#1 advises me to sell up immediately and take the loss. Well, I may have to, but not until there's been some music in that huge room.

Neighbour offered to help sister clear out the traps and check what the beasties are. They bagged and chucked the easy ones, leaving one disintegrated body for later as it needed a shovel. He was most insistent that they should put back the traps, but I refused. I can stand the thought of live beasties, but not traps. And they were rats. However, the bodies are old and there were empty traps, with no sign of current inhabitation. I still think there have been pole-cats up there (they would have scared rats away). Rats don't smell like that.

Tuesday

Took Broomstick to the garage in the village. They were a trifle bemused as it came out of the boot and was assembled. As soon as the mech touched it, it started up. We had a laugh about taking a sick machine to the doctor and he said the same happens to him when he has toothache and goes to the dentist. And then he tried it again and it died. Both the brothers had left the cars they were working on and started to check the cables and contacts, quickly finding the odd one that the UEA electrician had cut and soldered and deciding that was the problem patch. Bit of fiddling and scraping and a lot of WD40 later, Broomstick was working nicely. I put their phone number in my mobile, because they will come out when called. They may be called out to fix Broomstick on a farm track sometime. Of course they didn't know what to charge and left it up to me so I gave them 10 euros. It had only been a few minutes, but WD40 is very expensive here. Aha! That's what I meant to ask wendles to bring!

We wanted to sample coffee in a real French caff but discovered the little bar was closed (every Tuesday apparently), so went to the bar-restaurant at St Ciers du Taillon about 5 miles away. It's run by an English family, and unfortunately the coffee was English though the lunches at nearby tables looked French and good. Curious how in Poitou-Charente the English have taken over so many restaurants.

We spent the evening with people from the next hamlet, in their lovely, small, well-renovated house full of things they have acquired while working in South America and Indonesia.

Wednesday
We drove round rather a lot of Charente Maritime, taking in Saintes: St Eutrope and the crypt, the monastery where the tourist office is, the Arch of Germanicus, Roman amphitheatre, and the river (note to take a boat-ride on the river sometime). http://www.ot-saintes.fr/

From Saintes to my favourite beach at St Georges de Didonne. Although we left going to the beach until early evening, the sunlight was still too strong to be out in for long. I was most disappointed that the plastic path to the sea wasn't there - perhaps it's put down later in the summer when holiday season proper starts. And we had pancakes.

Fortified by pancakes and the accompanying sugar-rush, sis#3 went upstairs when we got home and cleared out the rest of the traps and ratness.

Thursday 12th

Tired after the long drive and busy time yesterday, we stayed in the village on Thursday morning and visited a neighbour who told us about her grandchildren who are all graduate professionals and living in big cities. Interesting, the change in two generations from vine-workers to Parisian architects and lawyers. Then we went out to look for small presents for sis#3 to take to work, a trip which included a visit to the ironmongery in St Fort (mmm ironmongery) which also sells assorted plastic tat at inflated prices, and garden stuff. I bought seeds for the herb garden. Super U at Mirambeau was more productive.

Quarter-mile of brocante

This was my second experience of a brocante: bigger and more impressive than the first.

It wasn't easy to find, being right down at the port in Mortagne. The stalls were stunning: attic-loads of stuff you wouldn't see in a carboot sale in England any more, not since Antiques Roadshow and its cheaper cousins. Some of it was not to my taste, but fascinating all the same. There was one porcelain... thing (it may have been for flowers) with large handles, embellished with porcelain blue roses and big green leaves. The stuff of nightmares.

One big stall was mostly linen, old but very good quality and monogrammed. I found sheets to use as throws for the manky armchairs, and teatowels. I carefully did not look at the black cloaks on the same stall, or the embroidered chemises, but was tempted by a mob cap; however it wasn't big enough to hold all my hair.

And then I saw a VHS tape of Asterix and Cleopatre, which was irresistible at 2 euros. Almost bought the player for 15 euros but was stopped by realising I'd need to buy a tv as well.

First visit to Bordeaux

I took the pretty (coastal) route to Bordeaux, partly to explore and partly because toll-roads are a right pain when alone in a RHD car. Got lost a few times and saw a sign for Blaye so made a small detour there. At Blaye there's a car-ferry across the river but I didn't think it would help, so after looking around the town I headed inland via Cars.

What an amazing little town Cars is. I love the slightly decrepit appearance of many small French towns - the unpainted naturalness, the absence of fences - but the smart ones have an appeal too. Cars is sparkly clean and very smart, but the first thing one notices is the church spire. Shiny. Like a polished snake, covered in tiles of red, gold, green, russet in a viper-pattern.

On the way into the north side of Bordeaux is an elegant and very new tram-terminal. The trams are gorgeous, and as they provide a park-and-ride facility I plan to take a day there and ride around.

I'd intended to locate the train station then go sight-seeing, but after 5 drives round and past the roadworks I was in need of rest and sustenance, and it seemed easier to park at the station and stay there. So I pretended to be a taxi (the sign said no entry except to taxis and buses, but there were other cars parked in there).

Collected sister with some difficulty (big place, Gare St Jean) and we decided on the quick way home, by motorway.

Along the Gironde estuary

On the way back from shopping I took a detour to explore the estuary-side.

There are sandy beaches at Meschers, a little south of St Georges, though in an area of low cliffs and not as easy to get to as those at St Georges (my favourite beach). Their advantage is the cliffs, which are honey-coloured and holed with seacaves. Beautiful. Disappointingly, I'd not taken a camera.

From there towards St Dizant is a chain of small fishing ports which have been made a little touristy (mostly with tiny marinas and a few restaurants and gites). At the moment the hordes have not descended, but it may get rather crowded in July and August. Apparently there are lots of events of various kinds in the summer. At Talmont there is a superb old carousel which looks like it's in working order, and will be on the list for visitors.

Citification

There is Municipal Works going on. It has been decided that the hamlet should be modernised, and to this end street lights are being put in. Just as the rest of the world is trying to find ways of using less electricity. I don't know why we need street lights: if anyone does go out at night they put their own outside light on, and there are no lurkers or antisociables here.

At least the light pollution will only be until 10pm, and stargazing will be undisturbed later (though twilight will be ruined). hm, does that mean they won't come on at all for a few weeks?