Saturday, 17 January 2015

Je suis en colère

Not happy at all...
For those non-French residents amongst you, I will explain what the title of this post means, as it is crucial that you understand the gravity of the situation. The French use the expression “en colère” to express their extreme dissatisfaction with something or other. It can be roughly translated as annoyed with, angry with, but neither really brings across the true emotional strength of the concept.  In this instance, I can only use the French phrase for my intense, emotional distress at what has (or should I say has not) taken place.

His dsappointment is tangible.
I know this post is a little late coming out, but I have been waiting in the (vain) hope that I wouldn’t have to post it. But even in its lateness, its message is not any less heartfelt. Actually it is the fact that I have given the perpetrators enough time to correct their error that I have waited so long to post and every day I have waited has just increased my colère.

I am normally a placid, happy-go-lucky kind of soul - or at least I like to think I am, others may disagree of course - so it takes some doing to get me really “en colère”. If it were only me, it could be ignored, but I am not the only one, just look at the faces of Mary and Joseph, and poor little baby Jesus and you will see they join me in this one.

WHERE ARE THE WISE MEN???

Have you seen these guys? - Photo taken in 2010

I really enjoy watching the Taizé nativity scene every year as it grows and changes over the weeks leading up to Christmas and on to Epiphany, but this year, not only has it been rather boringly static with minimal changes, but the wise men never showed up.

I went to see them arrive on Epiphany Sunday - no wise men. OK it was before the 6th so I assumed they were waiting for their entrance on the day itself. The 6th came and went and still no wise men. This last Sunday (the 11th) and still no wise men, even the donkey enclosure had gone by then and M & J were looking crosser by the day. Now the whole lot have given up and gone home or gone back into storage or whatever they do when it is not Nativity scene season.

How is this possible? I have often heard it said that if the three wise men had been women they would have 1. asked for directions 2. arrived on time 3. helped to deliver the baby and 4. brought practical gifts, amongst other things, but such tardiness and uselessness, I have never seen in the three wise men before. They had better show up next year, or in typical French fashion, I will organise a march round Taizé expressing my sentiments and there are plenty who will join me.

We will be out in force if they don't show up next year!

Saturday, 10 January 2015

Strange Week

It has been a strange old week. It started as normally as any other and then as the violence of the terrorist actions in Paris unfolded, it took me on a disturbing trip down memory lane. I grew up in London in the 1970s, police on every underground train and troops on the streets, trying to protect us from the bombs that seemed to be going off everywhere. A quick search on Google and I found mention of more than 40 successful terrorist actions in the 1970s in London alone. So we were always vigilant and even an innocuous abandoned umbrella would be cause to evacuate a station or a building. We regularly had drills and exercises at school and we knew what we had to do in a crisis and this was the way we lived for the whole of my adolescence and beyond.

This week has forced me to reflect how this still affects my actions and thoughts today, just little things like I am very uncomfortable standing near rubbish bins and containers and as for an abandoned suitcase, you won’t see me for dust, subconsciously I am always aware of where the emergency exits are and I check escape routes if I am ever talked into being in a crowd - something I normally try to avoid. I and all my friends got through it unscathed, although I had several near misses, I was on a train that left a station just before a bomb went off and also on a train that was evacuated because of a bomb at the next station, but that was life back then, it went on and we didn’t think it that abnormal, we were just grateful we didn’t live in Belfast or Beirut.

And as I heard stories this week of children locked down in their schools, it reminded me of the number of times that happened to us. One thing that is sad or reassuring (I am not sure which) after the first time, we weren’t scared any more and life and lessons went on as normal. The terrorists can kill and maim and cause disruption, but normal life will continue for the majority.

I don’t understand what makes people do these things, I never did and I never will, how can so much hate be in your heart that you want to kill, maim or just frighten people who have nothing to do with you and who are going about their daily lives, all because you have a grudge to bear - how is that right or just? Let’s pray that these misled souls end this stupidity soon and leave all the rest of the people of this nation to carry on their lives without the fear of being involved in an attack.


Marchers assembling as the sun goes behind the hill over Cluny
Saturday evening we went on a march in Cluny, a silent candle-lit march to show our defiance against these deluded morons. There must have been several thousand people walking but I am sure it won’t have any effect on these fanatics, they are too stupid or brainwashed to understand what freedom of speech and thought is all about, but if it makes one citizen feel a little safer, then it will have been worth it.

I just hope that another generation of children who are growing up in a civilised, democratic and, above all else, free country such as the one that we are privileged to live in, will not come to think of this barbaric behaviour as part of normal life, as I and my generation of London’s children were forced to do. But I do have my doubts.

People as far as you can see

Sunday, 4 January 2015

If you go into the woods today….

How does that timer work?
It's a new year, so time for a new project.

A friend asked me to join in with an on-line group working together to improve their photographing skills. I must say it sounded fun, so I decided to give it a go. All you have to do is one photo a week for a whole year - what could be easier?

The first task was to take a self portrait. My selfie attempts in the past haven't been too successful, so off I went into the woods with my tripod and camera, to get something with a little bit more "ambiance". Being a Sunday, I had to catch a relatively small window of opportunity between the hunters going for their lunch and them coming back after their siesta. After all, I only wanted to appear in the sights of my camera and not their guns!


Too far to walk
First lesson, how does that timer thingy work? After a couple of self portraits with me missing entirely, I went back into the house to get my glasses - good job I was only a few yards from my front door.

The timer set, off I struggled through the undergrowth and thick layer of dead leaves. Click!

It doesn't give you much time does it?  Better move the tripod closer to the tree I was supposed to be photographed beside.

Da dah!
Finally a self portrait with me actually facing roughly in the direction of the camera.

Thinking about it, the one showing my back sums up my current standard rather better!

Well at least I have a year to develop some level of skill - looks like I’ll need every week of it.


For information on our gites, just yards from this lovely forest click here.

Saturday, 20 December 2014

Pagnol Country

Santons by Daniel Scaturro
With Christmas coming up I think of Santons, those little characters you see all over France these days forming crèches or window displays, in shops and houses. Whilst they have kind of taken over the whole of the country, they are in fact from Provence and traditionally were made of the inside of a loaf of bread, squished between your fingers and rolled and prodded into shape, left to dry and then painted. The traditional Christmas characters are depicted but actually in the olden days it was more likely to be the butcher, baker and candlestick maker whose images were reproduced. Just looking at them and looking at the traditional Provencal scene created in the photo I found on the internet (from a blog of a Santon maker santons-creches-danielscaturro.blogspot.fr/) takes me back to our last holiday in Pagnol country.

Inside the church, then and now
I love Marcel Pagnol’s books, they are very easy to read, the stories are excellent and the images he invokes are so vivid. He was born and brought up in the heart of Provence, just north of Marseille and the sights and smells of Provence ooze out of almost every word he wrote. I have always thought of him as a novelist, but interestingly Pagnol was a film maker first. He didn’t write my favourite novels (Jean de Florette and Manon de Sources) until ten years after he had made the films of them, even though the most famous filmings of these books nowadays, are the Claude Berri versions made in the late 80s.

When we were in Provence in September, we decided to go on a Jean de Florette hunt. As this was a spur of the moment decision, sitting on a warm terrace, watching the sun go down behind the hills of the Luberon, we didn’t have time to do too much research. Out came the laptop and I put Google to work. The next day we were off to see the church and the fountain which were just down the road, the other locations were too far for a day trip.

Outside the church then and now 
Interestingly the inside and outside of the church are not in the same village, in fact the two churches are not anything like the same shape, which is rather bizarre. The inside is in Ansouis a lovely, attractive village perched over the planes and the outside is in a village called Vaugines, a rather boring but traditional village in the hills. When I saw the inside of the church, I had no sensation of being anywhere special, just another Provencal church and not a very nice one at that, but as soon as I saw the outside of the church in Vaugines it was obvious where we were, we were with César and Delphine as she told him the secret that had been kept from all those years. Who can ever forget that scene in the film as César’s world comes tumbling down round his ears as he finds out that his revengeful and narcissistic actions have destroyed the one thing that he always wanted. As I walked up to the front of that church, I was there.

The fountain then and now?
The other place I wanted to visit was the village square with its fountain, which according to Google was also in Vaugines. However, when I saw the fountain I was a bit surprised, it didn’t remind me of the film at all, the fountain had become horribly overgrown with moss and didn’t seem to be either the same shape or have the same number of spouts as I remembered, even the square didn’t look right, but I took the photo anyway, to show I had been there.

On arriving home, we watched the films again and sure enough the village didn’t look the slightest bit like Vaugines, mainly I suppose because it wasn’t Vaugines at all, it was a village just down the road from there called Mirabeau. Oh dear, looks like we will have to back to Provence again to get that fountain picture and while I’m there I will have to stock up on some Santons for next year’s Christmas display.

Sunday, 14 December 2014

Christmas nears

Cormatin decorations
Almost everywhere you go at the moment the build up to Christmas is evident. Every village and town has a Christmas market of local food goodies and handicrafts, all vying for your Christmas Euros. The supermarkets are stocking up on huge quantities of chocolate, foie gras, exotic fruit and vegetables along with the apparently unmissable shell fish and salmon.  Decorations are going up and the nativity scene in Taizé is working its way to the big day.

Rose in our front garden
But somehow it doesn’t feel at all like almost the end of the year. The weather is warmer than it should be. Last night the thermometer only dropped down to 8 degrees (Celsius for those Americans who might actually think that 8 degrees is cold!) and we would normally expect to be having frost at this time of year. I could not believe it when I saw some buds on the roses in our front garden the other day and even more so when one of them opened up this morning - in mid-December?

Our post box is filling up with cards from around the world - it is always nice to hear from friends far and near. All our cards are now in the post, there just remains the last one or two presents to sort. That’s this week’s job, along with preparing food for parties we are going to as well as making sure we are adequately stocked ourselves for the holiday season. So we are sort of on schedule.

Shepherds arrive
We took some time off from Christmas preparations to visit the Nativity scene in Taizé this afternoon and despite the donkey, it lacks something this year. It is all very static and the only change since last week is that some bland cut-out shepherds have arrived, but that is about it. I really liked the live chickens last year, they stayed all through Advent and kept the stable scene looking like a stable all week and the somewhat amateurish models of the main characters, really added some life to the whole scene.

Advent wreath
Sadly this year there are also no bible verses to contemplate and no changing scenes to mark the Christmas journey which is a real pity, as it is the only set of decorations that really mark the meaning of Christmas for miles around. Don’t get me wrong I love our village Smurfs and Snow White is always a welcome addition to the cold damp streets of Cormatin, but Christmas should be more than Walt Disney and other cartoons.

I think I should take a little contemplative pause in preparations as the pink candles of Joy are lit around the world.

Monday, 8 December 2014

All new in Cormatin

The Rêv'othèque
The beginning of December heralded the long awaited opening of the Rêv’othèque in Cormatin as well as the surprise opening of a new shop, a delicatessen.

I have heard stories of the Rêv’othèque since the owner was complaining about the plasterer failing to meet his promised timescales and the summer opening having to be delayed, but I had no idea what it would be. All that I could deduce was that the name itself is a play on words. In French a library is a biliothèque, a video library is a videothèque and so a Rêv’othèque is a place you can go to, to find your dreams - rêves.

This idea has been conjured up by a chap who has two old wooden gypsy-style caravans full of games, which he mans at local events. You can go into these lovely caravans and play with all the bits and pieces he has on offer. So I knew that the Rêv’othèque would be something along similar lines, but I couldn’t imagine what. When we were collecting our pre-ordered petit salé (lentils with meats) which were being sold for charity outside the church this Saturday (Téléthon day) we decide we would go and see what Christian had made of his dream. The inside of the building has been kitted out with games and “dreaming” areas where you can sit and read a book, or dream a few hours away, hanging chairs, hanging “rooms”, you name he has got it. I can’t really put into words what it is like and there is just so much in there you can’t take a decent photo, so you will just have to go and visit for yourself.

New deli in Cormatin
The new shop opening was a big surprise. When we went to the parade for 11th November, we saw that work was going on in a shop that has been vacant for a number of years. No one seemed to know what was happening, until the end of November when a notice appeared in the window saying that a delicatessen was going to open up on 1st December. After visiting the Rêv’othèque, we went to try them out. He still hasn’t got all his stock, but he had an interesting collection of deli-like things and he has a double length fridge counter full of cold meats, patés and pre-cooked meals. We knew that the butcher was to re-open in the spring also selling cold meats and ready meals along with more traditional butcher fare and the existing grocer is changing hands too in the spring, so Cormatin it becoming an interesting food shopping town. Let’s hope that there is enough clientele to go round. If this new deli keeps up with the quality of stuff he sold to us, he should have a good number of repeat customers.

Eyes of God
Marry and Joseph in the stable
Last but not least, December wouldn’t be December without the arrival of the nativity scene at Taizé. This year Mary and Joseph look rather orthodox and I must say Joseph looks a tad miserable, but it was rather cold up on the hill on Sunday, so I can see why. They have ditched the usual journey on a donkey and Mary and Joseph are already in situ. This year the theme seems to be American Indian with traditional “eyes of God” being hung up around the stall like stars in the sky. These “eyes of God” are found amongst the Huichol Indians in Mexico, the Aymara in Bolivia and the Navajo in North America and they are placed on altars in churches to protect the praying congregation - a Christian form of dream catchers. The chaps and chapesses, who have been busy making them, have done a lovely job, these “eyes” look very attractive as stars over the crèche scene.

I'm now looking forward to all the new things that next week will bring.


For information on holiday accommodation near the Taizé nativity scene click here.

Thursday, 4 December 2014

Train strikes and a weekend away

Bourges cathedral
When Cees’ son said he wanted to visit a guitar restorer in France, we were excited about the idea of meeting up with him for a weekend.  But things never go to plan do they? The weekend of our sortie was chosen and the accommodation almost booked, it was only our rather slow decision making that held that up. This delay was rather fortuitous, as just over a week before we were due to go, I heard on the radio that the French railways were holding a strike, the weekend of our trip. This would make Cees’ son’s journey from the airport in Paris impossible. A lot of quick work, on his part to change flights and on our part to find a new gîte, resulted in our trip to the Berry last weekend - all organised in one day, the day before our departure.

Monastery of Noirlac
Bourges was a real find. It has a beautiful cathedral with some stunning stained glass windows and porticos and the rest of this attractive town is well worth a wander round on a nice day, however, the cold and damp got the better of us there and after lunch we headed off to see the most intact of the Cistercian monasteries in France - we were not disappointed. . A cellist was making a recording in the Scriptorium and the music resonated around the whole Abbey while we were there.

Church at Le Menoux
The next day we had a list of Romanesque churches to visit, all of which were worth the visit and all of which were open, always a bonus. In amongst the church tour, I managed to slip in a visit to a church I had seen in the guide book, La Menoux. The church from the outside is not worth a photo, it is a boring neo-something, the guide book describes it as “banale” which summed it up for me. But when you open the door you are confronted with an assault on your visual senses. A resident of the village, Mr Carassco an artist originally from Bolivia, has painted the ceilings and I mean really painted them. A quote from him in the description of this stunning work of art “Art is love, love is life and life has to be lived not just gone through.” True to his own words, this work of art is not just there, is it really alive even though it was painted about forty years ago.

The ending of our weekend away had a nasty twist when our car started emitting smoke as we drove down the motorway. Fortunately I cut the engine immediately as we cruised to a holt and the fledgling fire put itself out otherwise things could have been an awful lot worse. It turned out that the motor to the windscreen washers had shorted and started to burn, very scary and not to be repeated. I could write a whole blog about the numerous telephone conversations I had to have before we could get someone to tow us off the motorway, if the car had been on fire it would have been a gonner before the emergency services had accepted that there was actually an exit number 23 and quite frankly whether we were in Saône-et-Loire or Allier (we were actually 200 meters from the border) didn’t seem awfully relevant to me at that moment in time. Maybe I should buy a Michelin map for the police in S-et-L, so that they can locate the next person with a burning car at exit 23 direction Macon on the N79, it really does exist!

Jamon Iberico de Bellota
So an inauspicious end to our weekend away with our car being towed to a breakers yard in Digoin. There is a however a happy ending, the car was relatively easily repaired and back on the road after a couple of days with only a slight trace of “eau-de-burned-plastic”.

We and our car are now back at home along with a lovely souvenir from Spain that Cees’ son had brought for us to enjoy chez-nous. So today for lunch we had artisanally dried ham, hand-cut from the bone, served on fresh French bread with ripe mini-tomatoes. La vie est belle!

Saturday, 22 November 2014

Normalement

Autumn has arrived
Autumn is well and truly upon us, finally all the leaves are falling and we have been bathed in fog for weeks. Today however, the sun has come out at last, to match my mood, you see yesterday I received a phone call I have been waiting for, for months.

Just as a glimmer of hope started to peak through the fog, I received the news that my Christmas present had arrived! Since last Christmas I have been searching for something to spend my Christmas money on and I finally found just what I wanted late in September. I have been searching all year, but the models available were too small or too big or not the right shape or, or, or, the list goes on, but at the end of September a leaflet dropped into our letterbox with just the thing I wanted. We rushed straight round to the shop in question to view what they had, only to find that, even though they were supposed to be on offer that week, there were none in the shop. One could be ordered for me and it would be in next week “normalement”.

Christmas present still wrapped
Anyone who has ever had dealings with the French and their “normalement” will know what that means. Next week came and went as did the following week. I chased them up after a month and they said, “oh do you still want one, we thought as the order had taken so long you might not be interested anymore” . Why not ask in future - I mumbled under my breath as I ensured them I was very interested. It will be in next week “normalement”.

Two weeks ago I phoned again and was told that it would be in mid-November. “Normallement?” I asked, yes normalement. I went in to the shop on the 14th and was told that it would arrive mid-November (they know me and my order by now without having to look up the paperwork) I suggested that it was now mid-November what with it being the 14th and all, to which they agreed with a look of surprise, but still no item to be collected. So you can imagine my excitement when I received “The Call”. I was in the car and round to the shop before they could say “normalement”.

We paid at the till with the crisp notes that had been in my Christmas envelop since last year and were told to collect my present at the big gate. Along came a forklift truck with a pallet and more than 100kg of Christmas present. We looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. Firstly, we hadn’t realised it would be that big and secondly, even if this burly chap could get it in the car, how the heck would we get it out at the other end? Never mind, we’re intelligent enough creatures, we will find a way.

Using our combined engineering skill base, we did manage to get it out of the car without either of us slipping a disk and there we had it - 100kg of log splitter, in a box, in our vide.

In action..
Now what? Open the top of the box to read the instructions. The first instruction is how to get it out of the box, which should have been done before putting it upright. How do you find that out, without the instructions which you can’t access until it is upright? We ad-libbed. The assembly went smoothly until I had two pieces left over which did not appear anywhere in the instructions - fortunately their website shed some light those and within a jiffy it was ready to roll.

So now to try it out, I dusted off my steel toe-capped boots and found my face protector and heavy gloves and set to. Dah dah, I managed to split a log and here’s the photo to prove it.

Now I have a couple more logs to sort out….





Sunday, 16 November 2014

Wine tasting in the Beaujolais?

Vineyards in summer
I have been told off by a number of friends for never having been wine tasting in the Beaujolais. We have been into the vineyards a number of times and have seen numerous villages and some lovely sites, but have never tasted a drop in situ.

On 1st November we headed off yet again into the Beaujolais because there was an exhibition of jazz paintings - no I didn’t know what that would mean either. The reason being that Cees is a jazz fan and the icing on the cake was that the exhibition was in an ex-Romanesque church, what better combination could he dream of? For me the bigger reason was that this ex-church had been turned into a wine cellar. Ah ha, at last a drop of Beaujolais!

Door firmly shut
We arrived at the cellar in Julienas after lunch (because everything round here shuts for lunch) only to find the door firmly locked. The poster on the door (that I was too annoyed at to take a photograph of) said clearly that the exhibition started on 1st November and ran every day except Tuesdays until the 30th December. It wasn’t a Tuesday, but it was a bank holiday, which obviously they had forgotten when they made the poster and sent round all their advertising material. It was very clear that they had no intention of opening, much to the disappointment of a number of other people who were standing there shaking all the doors to this ex-church, turned wine cellar and exhibition room. At about an hour’s drive away I was not impressed at this bad organisation and I would have happily given it a miss, but Cees talked me into going on another day, not a Tuesday, not a bank holiday, this Saturday morning.

Non-jazz wall painting
Low and behold (and to my relief and surprise) the door of the ex-church was open and in we went. The huddle of old men around the bar didn’t even grunt a reply to my “Bonjour!” - obviously they don’t use words like that round there. And there they were, the paintings. Let’s put this in perspective, by the time we had driven home, we would have driven a total of four hours to see these things (2 trips of 1 hour back and 1 hour forth) and if I had known beforehand, I wouldn’t have driven into Cormatin for them. We did our bit however and stood and looked at them, but they weren't worth a photo.

Quick exit
The whole ambiance was unwelcoming, despite the cheerful painting on the wall, so we said “au revoir” to the huddle of old men and left. They grunted something back, so they obviously spoke some form of French.

To get a photo of the offending poster for this blog, I have been looking on the internet and can’t find one, but I did find the website for the cellar in question and I found out that you have to pay to have a tasting. Thank goodness I hadn’t asked for one while I was there or I would have been more than a tad upset. Obviously they are not confident enough in their product, to allow you to taste it for free.

So wine tasting in the Beaujolais was not a great success and we won’t be trying it again and we also won’t be trying this year’s over-hyped Beaujolais Nouveau when it comes out on Thursday, although I must give it to them, they certainly know how to maximise their financial return.

Henri Lafarge - he'll make you welcome!
I am so glad that our local wine producers are confident enough in their product to know that it will sell without hype and without charging their customers to taste. We are very lucky to live where we do, very close to some of the best wine producers around, Henri Lafarge, Peter Gierszewski and Christophe Perrin - why not have a tasting when you visit the area, free of charge and you won’t be disappointed. They know that anyone who comes in to taste can not possibly leave without a couple of cases of their nectar, it is far too good.

Saturday, 8 November 2014

Cows

Cows everywhere
This Saturday, ie the Saturday nearest to the 11th of November, Cluny becomes one great big party zone. It is the feast of Saint Martin. Quite why there is are a lot of cows involved is a mystery to me, but there are.

This year we decided to visit a different cow before heading into Cluny. We have found an electronic cow, or mechanical cow, I am not sure quite how I should describe it, but in any case, it is a brilliant invention.

Electronic cow
A few weeks ago, we spotted a machine outside a supermarket in Prissé (not far from Macon) which dispenses milk. Not just any milk, but local, fresh, non-pasteurised, non-sterilised milk - real milk straight from the cow. Being a huge milk drinker and being very particular about the type of milk he drinks, Cees was very excited and so we decided to take a bottle and try it out. Here is the video to prove it. The sound effects were a delightful bonus…



Just what you need on a cold winter's evening
According to our aficionado, the milk is absolutely delicious, not tampered with, the way mother nature intended us to have it. Me, I am more excited about the price, at 1 Euro a litre it is by far the cheapest milk for miles around. A win/win in our household!

Following all that excitement we headed back to Cluny where the town was one great big chaotic party. All the tourists are gone, the holiday season is over and the party is just for the locals. The weather usually turns on about the 15th of November, so everyone comes out to celebrate what is normally the last weekend before the winter sets in. At least I know now where to get some good milk to make that late night cocoa to keep me warm in the months to come.

For information on holiday accommodation near a real milk machine click here.

Saturday, 1 November 2014

My very own saint.

This is not Saint George despite the dragon
As most people probably know, every saint has his or her own domain and responsibilities. For instance good old George looks after us English as well as those from Barcelona, not to mention 20 other countries, 22 other cities, as well as of the Scouting Movement and a wide range of professions, organizations, and disease sufferers including leprosy, plague, herpes and syphilis.

But apart from being English, I don’t feel a particular link to him. In fact when I started visiting local churches, it surprised me to find out that the chap I had been identifying as St George all this time, was in fact Saint Michael.

Sain Curé
I can now admit that the only saint that I recognised correctly when we started visiting catholic churches, was Joan of Arc, the rest I have had to learn over time. For instance the weird looking priest whose head leans forward a bit like Scrooge is the Saint Curé d’Ars who is the patron saint of priests and who comes from a small town not far from here, the monk dressed in brown with a small child on his shoulder is Saint Anthony patron the saint who helps you find lost items, not to be confused with the Saint Anthony with the pig who it seems you take your pig to, to be blessed or so I was told the other day by someone showing us around his church.

In the sculptures or images, each saint is depicted in the same way every time, with the same features, so that you can easily identify him or her. I have slowly learned their names, some but not all have plaques, sometimes there are helpful old ladies in the churches to fill in the gaps in my knowledge, sometimes I can find the name by looking in the handy brochures left in the church or sometimes they take a lot of research on the internet when I get home. There are however a small cluster of saints who remain in my photo collection as still unnamed.

Who is he?
Let’s go back to my faux-pas with George to show how this works. He is usually depicted killing a dragon. Inside churches he is normally without a horse, but outside he tends to be sitting on a horse. In my ignorance I assumed that all dragon killers were George, but that is not the case, it appears that Michael killed a dragon or two as well, hence my confusion. So how do you tell the difference? If there is a horse, then it is obviously George, but without one you have to look further. I’ll put you out of your misery - Michael is the one with wings because not only is he a saint but he is an angel as well.

It certainly makes visiting churches an interesting puzzle at times. Now when I enter a church, I scan the saints for unknown ones, I photograph them for my collection and then try and find out who they are. Surprisingly even after all these years, we still run across a saint I do not know the name of. My latest unknown saint is this chappy. When I Googled “saint with watering can and shovel” I ended up with pictures of garden gnomes, which made me smile, but did not send me in the right direction as it could have done - I was stumped actually.

Google option
Then I thought to ask Cees the name of the church and all was revealed, the church was Saint Fiacre. When I looked him up it appears that he is normally pictured holding a shovel. Problem solved. So what is he responsible for? Well he is the patron saint of “those who grow vegetables and medicinal plants, and of gardening in general” (a Wikipedia quote) a saint after my own heart.

So when I am next out tending my garden, I will be thinking of my very own patron saint and I must say I prefer the idea of him looking over me than that of a dragon killer who I can’t always identify.



For information on our holiday accommodation surrounded by a lovely garden click here.

Saturday, 25 October 2014

Changes on the Campsite

Since we started the campsite, 8 years ago, we have been constantly changing things in response to comments from the campers and changing things as we saw opportunities to improve the campsite, its facilities and the whole camping experience. It has always been our aim is to create a campsite that we would want to stay on. We wanted a simple campsite, with no frills, but one or two extra comforts. Hence the generous toilet facilities, the fridge, the freezer and telephone loading points, but no electricity on the site itself.

Originally we allowed caravans and campervans as we thought that if those campers were prepared to accept the lack of electricity, they were the type of people who would appreciate what we are offering, simplicity in peaceful surroundings. Sadly we discovered that the weight of caravans and campervans is such that we can’t permit them on the site, so we have been a tent only campsite now for a few years. It raised a few eyebrows when said we were not going to have any electricity on the site and it raised a few more eyebrows when we made the change to no caravans, but both ideas have have been sucessful and have been appreciated by the campers who come here.

Now it is time for the next big change.

Car park for the campsite
Our favourite campsite in The Netherlands in Loenen, was the model for what we wanted to create in France. We have followed most of their principles, but for whatever reason, we didn’t think that their policy of no cars on the site was a goer here in France. Having said that some damp summers have shown us that we can run the campsite successfully in this way and so from next year we are not only an electricity-free zone, but a car-free zone as well.

The car park has been spruced up since the summer, with measured and marked spaces and we have been looking round for the best way to help the campers transport their belongings from this new car park to their chosen camping spot. Thanks to Cees’ daughter and son-in-law, we have now come up with a brilliant solution.

New Brouettes
So here is a photo of Cees and me modelling the “his and hers” brouettes, just waiting for the first campers of our next season to use them to transport their camping gear.

I am sure our new policy will raise a few eyebrows yet again, but I am equally sure that our campers will appreciate what this will bring. Peace, quiet, your own tent and nature - what more could you ask of a campsite?


For more information see our website by clicking here.

Saturday, 18 October 2014

Picnics, Buddhists and Magnificent Churches

When we have visitors to stay we always try and take them to places they have never been to do and do things they don’t normally do. When Cees’ daughter arrived with her partner, we had to think up a nice day out with something for everyone.

In my opinion, a day out wouldn’t be a day out without a picnic, so off we went to get to Digoin in time for lunch at one of our favourite picnic spots, the Pont-canal. This is where the Canal Lateral à la Loire crosses the Loire to enable the canal network to be connect through to the Canal du Centre. There are some nice benches there and a lovely view of the bridge and the fast flowing waters of the Loire. An excellent place to sit and enjoy the surroundings.

After lunch we headed to another of our favourites, the Temple of the Thousand Buddhas at La Boulaye. Maybe it is not the first place you would take visitors to give them a sample of Burgundian life and culture, but it is such a special place, it is well worth the trip.

Finally on the return leg of our journey, we were passing close by Perrecy les Forges and since that church has been reopened, after a five year closure for refurbishment, I can’t tire of making a quick visit. We are not the only ones either. Every time we visit, there are always one or two locals who pop in for a few minutes, possibly like us to enjoy the majesty of the place, but also to take a look to make sure that it hasn’t been closed again. This time Cees’ daughter got chatting to an old lady who was more than keen to tell her all about the place.

After a successful day out., we headed home to have one final dinner en famille before they headed home.


For information about holiday accommodation near all of these places click here.

Thursday, 2 October 2014

Dirty Deeds?

Cluny cinema provides us with at least one outing a month, if not more. It has a great selection of interesting films, not your usual Hollywood pap, but lots of English films and the more arty American films. We have also seen less popular, but nonetheless very interesting, French films and even a Tibetan film once.

In February every year they dedicate a week to Chinese films and they have a smattering of other interesting films from around the globe, most often in the original version (ie not dubbed which I despise) with French subtitles. In short we look forward to our monthly email from the cinema. Well actually we look forward to our monthly letter from one person, Anne Krief, the mythical woman who sends out the emails. We had no idea who she was, or even if she existed, until quite recently, but her mails were awaited with eager anticipation, along with the weekly updates to remind us of the films we might just have forgotten about.

Comfortable cinema
Anne has worked for the cinema as a volunteer for the best part of 10 years I think. She chooses and organises the delivery of the films and makes sure that we, the viewing public, have an interesting selection of good films to see. At the beginning of September, after all those years of doing this work for nothing, she was offered a contract to be paid part-time for the work. Finally a small reward for all her years of dedication, or was it a poisoned chalice?

housed in the histroic St Hugues stables
Last night we received an email from her which saddened me immensely and made me very cross. Her contract to work for the cinema was being cancelled after the one month trial period. So as from 1st October she no longer works for the cinema for free or paid. This all smacks of nasty work to me, how can someone who works for free, for so long and provides an excellent service to the likes of us, someone we appreciate and admire for their efforts, suddenly be no longer required after one month of being paid?

All I can say is beware of Greeks bearing gifts, or should I say Algerians. Enough said. We will miss Anne very much.




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