I was once asked what was the French for 'deja vu' - er, that would be deja vu.
I mention that because, having moved onto the management of our two holiday apartments, the project for Denis is bringing back both good and bad memories of the months of renovation that occupied my last two years here.
This afternoon, Chris and I went to Tridome and spent a good deal of money on fixings and mastic and tools and tried to hire the 'petit camion' to get the plasterboard and wood and the toilet and the shower base back in one go. As you would expect, it isn't going to be as simple as that - oh no - the van is booked up for tomorrow and Friday and Thursday is the first of May, which is a national holiday - so Saturday is the earliest we could have the van, but only between 1pm and 4pm and with guest arrivals and Debrah coming over and market shopping, it's going to be a bit busy.
So the Audi may be pressed back into its role as a builders van for a day or two as we really need to get the material into Denis' apartment as soon as possible, and as Chris starts to rip the place apart it has become increasingly difficult for him to stay there - so this evening he moved out into shared accomodation with Susan, the barmaid of the now defunct Irish bar and soon to be the manageress of the new improved Irish bar.
One part of the return to renovation that I'm not looking forward to is the extra flight of stairs up to the second floor - it is steep and winding and adds a lot of extra effort required just to get things in and out - but it may help to get rid of my recently returned gut, the result of too much 'client entertaining'.
This morning something happened that I didn't expect and took me completely by surprise. One of my French neighbours that lives in an apartment above mine told me that the father of her child, whom I had met many times when he borrowed ladders and other equipment from me, was dead. I was completely taken aback and my lack of French language skills came to the fore - I didn't know what to say and so don't know what happened - but it was terrible news and is still difficult to take in because I don't know the facts. He was much younger than me and always had a smile on his face - it is hard to believe, so much so that I still keep questioning whether I understood her correctly, but I'm sure I did.
It sounds callous, I know, but Magali said to me that life goes on and it does. Two new guests, from Belgium, arrived this evening having driven all day to get here - a couple of lovely boys - they seem very sophisticated and were very complimentary and enthusiastic about the apartment - bless.
Tuesday 29 April 2008
Monday 28 April 2008
Debris
One set of guests left today and the others, on a five day break, have gone up to 'La Barbacane' restaurant at the Hotel de la Cite for a Michelin dining experience. Last night we all had dinner here at 42rvh - I'm no Michelin chef, but I think it went well - everyone was still sat around the table at 1.00am and no-one realised how late it was, which is probably a good sign that another thrown together group of people were getting along just fine. It was a good evening.
It was gone 2.00am when I managed to get to bed after sorting out half of the kitchen mess and then up again at 7.30am, not just to finish the clearing and sort breakfasts but also because I had to take the car to the garage for it's CAT - two minutes to drive there and ten minutes to walk home, picking up the breakfast viennoiserie on the way - brilliant, I just love how quick it is to get anywhere here and, as a result, how much extra time I have. I was back in plenty of time to get the two breakfast trays ready after finishing off the washing up and tidying of the debris from last night.
The old Audi didn't fare too badly either - it needs a couple of things sorting but they are so minor that I don't have to go and get a re-test, just check the car back into the garage so that they can fix them and then they will notify the authorities that it has been done - an eminently sensible way to go about things. In the meantime, I have the car back on the road.
Debrah also left today and is now back in London and, once again, the place feels strangely empty as it always does just after she has gone. The weekends seem to fly by with very little opportunity for us to spend time together, what with guests and dinners and breakfasts and new design and build projects.
On Sunday we took a drive out to Domaine de Cantalauze, the enormous money pit owned by Niall the eccentric, in order to show Chris what was what and give him an idea of the magnitude of the potential for him and Debrah. As I suspected, the initial thought was that it was too big and couldn't be done but I hope that with a bit of reflection they, especially Chris, will find a way to try and make it work - because it could be a great project for them both.
Meanwhile, Denis' project will be kicking off in earnest this week, with more materials and the start of the major demolition. 'Operation Barney' has already returned to the streets of Carcassonne, with Chris scattering radiators and whatever else around the refuse collection points of town - just when they thought we'd finished, we're back in business!
It was gone 2.00am when I managed to get to bed after sorting out half of the kitchen mess and then up again at 7.30am, not just to finish the clearing and sort breakfasts but also because I had to take the car to the garage for it's CAT - two minutes to drive there and ten minutes to walk home, picking up the breakfast viennoiserie on the way - brilliant, I just love how quick it is to get anywhere here and, as a result, how much extra time I have. I was back in plenty of time to get the two breakfast trays ready after finishing off the washing up and tidying of the debris from last night.
The old Audi didn't fare too badly either - it needs a couple of things sorting but they are so minor that I don't have to go and get a re-test, just check the car back into the garage so that they can fix them and then they will notify the authorities that it has been done - an eminently sensible way to go about things. In the meantime, I have the car back on the road.
Debrah also left today and is now back in London and, once again, the place feels strangely empty as it always does just after she has gone. The weekends seem to fly by with very little opportunity for us to spend time together, what with guests and dinners and breakfasts and new design and build projects.
On Sunday we took a drive out to Domaine de Cantalauze, the enormous money pit owned by Niall the eccentric, in order to show Chris what was what and give him an idea of the magnitude of the potential for him and Debrah. As I suspected, the initial thought was that it was too big and couldn't be done but I hope that with a bit of reflection they, especially Chris, will find a way to try and make it work - because it could be a great project for them both.
Meanwhile, Denis' project will be kicking off in earnest this week, with more materials and the start of the major demolition. 'Operation Barney' has already returned to the streets of Carcassonne, with Chris scattering radiators and whatever else around the refuse collection points of town - just when they thought we'd finished, we're back in business!
Saturday 26 April 2008
Working Lunch
We have two sets of guests this weekend - so a full house, if you like. Both seem lovely but both are very different, which I guess, is part of the thrill of throwing people together into the mix as we do. We had a lively and funny get-together over cocktails and canapes on Friday evening and I am looking forward to having dinner with them all tomorrow.
My working of the relationship with the restaurant 'La Roulotte' seems to have paid off. We sent some guests down there on Friday night and they were treated like kings and had a fabulous evening (their words). We sent our other guests there this evening and hopefully they had a similar experience.
Then, today, in the name of more 'research', we had lunch at 'Le Saint Jean", which is up in the Cite. We had been meaning to check out some more of the restaurants up there for a while - and with the weather so beautiful this weekend, it was the perfect opportunity.
You may think that having lunch in the name of guest research isn't working at all - well, it is working, but a very very pleasant way of doing so.
The restaurant had been recommended by Lesa and it proved to be an excellent recommendation. It is situated in a quiet side street away from the main tourist thoroughfares, but there were still enough people there to create a good ambience and it is positioned right next to the Chateau Comtal, the inner sanctum of the Cite and former home of the Counts of Toulouse, giving a beatiful backdrop of moat and walls and turrets - especially when topped with a cloudless azure sky as it was today.
As ever the Cite was packed with tourists waving cameras and children waving plastic swords and hatchets - a combination that is considerably more dangerous to life, limb and sanity than the original inhabitants of the Cite, 1000 years ago, probably were.
We beat a hasty retreat back to the relative calm of the Bastide town, although today, it too was also in a party mood - probably due to the sunshine and market day and the imminent start of the French bank holiday season. The main square was packed with people, watching and being watched by each other whilst slowly baking in the first sustained sunshine of the year - let's hope it sticks around.
My working of the relationship with the restaurant 'La Roulotte' seems to have paid off. We sent some guests down there on Friday night and they were treated like kings and had a fabulous evening (their words). We sent our other guests there this evening and hopefully they had a similar experience.
Then, today, in the name of more 'research', we had lunch at 'Le Saint Jean", which is up in the Cite. We had been meaning to check out some more of the restaurants up there for a while - and with the weather so beautiful this weekend, it was the perfect opportunity.
You may think that having lunch in the name of guest research isn't working at all - well, it is working, but a very very pleasant way of doing so.
The restaurant had been recommended by Lesa and it proved to be an excellent recommendation. It is situated in a quiet side street away from the main tourist thoroughfares, but there were still enough people there to create a good ambience and it is positioned right next to the Chateau Comtal, the inner sanctum of the Cite and former home of the Counts of Toulouse, giving a beatiful backdrop of moat and walls and turrets - especially when topped with a cloudless azure sky as it was today.
As ever the Cite was packed with tourists waving cameras and children waving plastic swords and hatchets - a combination that is considerably more dangerous to life, limb and sanity than the original inhabitants of the Cite, 1000 years ago, probably were.
We beat a hasty retreat back to the relative calm of the Bastide town, although today, it too was also in a party mood - probably due to the sunshine and market day and the imminent start of the French bank holiday season. The main square was packed with people, watching and being watched by each other whilst slowly baking in the first sustained sunshine of the year - let's hope it sticks around.
Friday 25 April 2008
Classical
Last night we went to a classical music evening at the Auditorium, the old Jesuit chapel, now converted into a concert venue. Approximately once a month there is music concert and this was the first one that we had attended - I just noticed the date last week when buying ZZ Top tickets for some of our summer guests (honest) and decided that as Debrah arrived during the day it would be a real change for us to go out to an event.
Debrah isn't that keen on going out and sometimes has to be forced, in the nicest possible way - i.e. I buy tickets and we go or I book a restaurant and we go. Invariably, Debrah enjoys it and thanks me and so it proved this time too.
We lived in London all those years and never took advantage of all the wonderful culture available on our doorstep - but that's the point actually, it never was on our doorstep because it was always an hour into town and either find somewhere to park or get a cab that cost £30 - we could never be bothered. That attitude nearly prevailed here and once Debrah had arrived and had lunch in the square it was always going to be difficult to get her out of the apartment again.
It was scheduled for an 8.30pm start and Debrah asked what time we had to leave - I think my reply took her slightly off guard. "About 8.20", I said, "and we'll probably still be early". So it proved - a 5 minute walk and the auditorium filling up nicely, even though it didn't get underway for another 20 minutes.
The concert was billed as 'Le Quatre B' and featured short pieces by Bartok, Beethoven, Britten and Brahms - I don't know what Bach had done to upset them but he clearly wasn't in the club - maybe they thought he was a bit over-exposed.
It was, therefore, a very diverse mix of modern and old, of avant-garde and traditional - featuring just a pianist and a violinist, in this quaint setting with an audience of no more than 300. The music teacher from the school downstairs was the only person I recognised, so not my usual crowd of wine swilling reprobates.
It was all fabulous and made a very nice change from our usual evening here. Debrah connected most with the Bartok - she said it reminded her of what was going on inside her head on any given day, which is slightly worrying as for me it sounded like the soundtrack to a Tom and Jerry cartoon ! I guess we all work on different levels and in different ways and that's what makes us all so interesting - he said to himself, trying not to sound worried.
Psychologically interesting, apparently, my wife. Beautiful, fascinating, wonderful and lovely, also - that's quite a mix to carry off but she does it so well
Debrah isn't that keen on going out and sometimes has to be forced, in the nicest possible way - i.e. I buy tickets and we go or I book a restaurant and we go. Invariably, Debrah enjoys it and thanks me and so it proved this time too.
We lived in London all those years and never took advantage of all the wonderful culture available on our doorstep - but that's the point actually, it never was on our doorstep because it was always an hour into town and either find somewhere to park or get a cab that cost £30 - we could never be bothered. That attitude nearly prevailed here and once Debrah had arrived and had lunch in the square it was always going to be difficult to get her out of the apartment again.
It was scheduled for an 8.30pm start and Debrah asked what time we had to leave - I think my reply took her slightly off guard. "About 8.20", I said, "and we'll probably still be early". So it proved - a 5 minute walk and the auditorium filling up nicely, even though it didn't get underway for another 20 minutes.
The concert was billed as 'Le Quatre B' and featured short pieces by Bartok, Beethoven, Britten and Brahms - I don't know what Bach had done to upset them but he clearly wasn't in the club - maybe they thought he was a bit over-exposed.
It was, therefore, a very diverse mix of modern and old, of avant-garde and traditional - featuring just a pianist and a violinist, in this quaint setting with an audience of no more than 300. The music teacher from the school downstairs was the only person I recognised, so not my usual crowd of wine swilling reprobates.
It was all fabulous and made a very nice change from our usual evening here. Debrah connected most with the Bartok - she said it reminded her of what was going on inside her head on any given day, which is slightly worrying as for me it sounded like the soundtrack to a Tom and Jerry cartoon ! I guess we all work on different levels and in different ways and that's what makes us all so interesting - he said to himself, trying not to sound worried.
Psychologically interesting, apparently, my wife. Beautiful, fascinating, wonderful and lovely, also - that's quite a mix to carry off but she does it so well
Wednesday 23 April 2008
Back to DIY
I was up at eight and at the garage within half an hour - Bob L'Anglais, never heard of him, seemed to be the jist of my initial attempts at conversation - so much for the tip-off and introduction.
Despite the bad start, I managed to arrange a pre-check and a CAT test for Monday - not perfect with airport runs to do but manageable with Denis' car available to use as well. I then went down to the market and up to the Peugeot cycle shop to collect my repaired bike all before getting hold of some breakfast and having a morning chat with Debrah.
My weekend guests in the Apartment had managed to pull one of the wire curtain tracks off the wall - he did tell me about it and apologise, which was better than me walking in and finding the curtain on the floor, but I still wonder what he was trying to do when he managed to pull the whole thing down. As a result my trusty scaffolding was pressed back into action, for a cameo appearance, and out came the tool box and suddenly I was transformed back into DIY/renovation mode - which was actually quite satisfying and a bit of a change from cleaning and washing and ironing. To complete the throwback, Chris and I spent an hour trying to work out what the hell my initial electrician here had done with the phasing of the power in an attempt to stop it tripping out when guests arrive and turn everything on at the same time.
Sadly, despite finding that phase 2 and phase 3 were cross-labelled and despite now fully understanding what is on each phase, there wasn't enough leeway to solve the problem and I will have to go to EDF and ask for more power - an enormously humbling French tradition that means you have to publicly request more energy usage which will probably put me on some local blacklist as a profligant English capitalist pig. I have always wondered why the French live in one room with a single lightbulb and now I know - it's all about how much wattage you give out, or in fact how much you are prepared to pay for. The French aren't prepared to pay for any as befits the national attitude to paying for anything at all, whilst we Brits obviously expect to have enough power available on demand to make the whole world come to a temporary halt when we all switch our kettles on at half time to make a cup of tea. I don't care if California is temporarily blacked out as long as my guests can dry their hair when they want to.
After failing to resolve my non-French/terribly-English power situation, we did at least manage to get my towel rail working again using the modern IT method of rebooting it. Whilst that means just turning off and then turning on the power switch for a modern PC, it actually means disassembling and re-assembling an entire appliance that was made 15 years ago, with all sorts of manual labour, allen keys, screwdrivers and South African cleverness involved - so, we took it off the wall and we took it apart and we put it back together and we put it back on the wall - and now it works, which means we are geniuses and fabulous. I don't know what we did but we are good.
After the thrill of fixing stuff, it has been back to the banality of washing and ironing and cleaning. I did see Amelie for a French lesson, which was a relief - she gives me confidence to speak the language, but I hadn't seen her for a month and had felt that my French had suffered as a result - it's all about practice you know, and with trips to London and English guests, I haven't been practising as much as I should. C'est la vie.
Despite the bad start, I managed to arrange a pre-check and a CAT test for Monday - not perfect with airport runs to do but manageable with Denis' car available to use as well. I then went down to the market and up to the Peugeot cycle shop to collect my repaired bike all before getting hold of some breakfast and having a morning chat with Debrah.
My weekend guests in the Apartment had managed to pull one of the wire curtain tracks off the wall - he did tell me about it and apologise, which was better than me walking in and finding the curtain on the floor, but I still wonder what he was trying to do when he managed to pull the whole thing down. As a result my trusty scaffolding was pressed back into action, for a cameo appearance, and out came the tool box and suddenly I was transformed back into DIY/renovation mode - which was actually quite satisfying and a bit of a change from cleaning and washing and ironing. To complete the throwback, Chris and I spent an hour trying to work out what the hell my initial electrician here had done with the phasing of the power in an attempt to stop it tripping out when guests arrive and turn everything on at the same time.
Sadly, despite finding that phase 2 and phase 3 were cross-labelled and despite now fully understanding what is on each phase, there wasn't enough leeway to solve the problem and I will have to go to EDF and ask for more power - an enormously humbling French tradition that means you have to publicly request more energy usage which will probably put me on some local blacklist as a profligant English capitalist pig. I have always wondered why the French live in one room with a single lightbulb and now I know - it's all about how much wattage you give out, or in fact how much you are prepared to pay for. The French aren't prepared to pay for any as befits the national attitude to paying for anything at all, whilst we Brits obviously expect to have enough power available on demand to make the whole world come to a temporary halt when we all switch our kettles on at half time to make a cup of tea. I don't care if California is temporarily blacked out as long as my guests can dry their hair when they want to.
After failing to resolve my non-French/terribly-English power situation, we did at least manage to get my towel rail working again using the modern IT method of rebooting it. Whilst that means just turning off and then turning on the power switch for a modern PC, it actually means disassembling and re-assembling an entire appliance that was made 15 years ago, with all sorts of manual labour, allen keys, screwdrivers and South African cleverness involved - so, we took it off the wall and we took it apart and we put it back together and we put it back on the wall - and now it works, which means we are geniuses and fabulous. I don't know what we did but we are good.
After the thrill of fixing stuff, it has been back to the banality of washing and ironing and cleaning. I did see Amelie for a French lesson, which was a relief - she gives me confidence to speak the language, but I hadn't seen her for a month and had felt that my French had suffered as a result - it's all about practice you know, and with trips to London and English guests, I haven't been practising as much as I should. C'est la vie.
Monday 21 April 2008
So much to do
Much as I adore all my guests, it's so relaxing not to have any here tonight and much better for my waistline after two large boozy dinners over the weekend. I am going to get into bed just as soon as I have written this, read my much neglected book and catch-up on some sleep. Last night I think I was asleep before I hit the pillow and I don't think I moved all night.
I still had to be up at 7.30 to do breakfast and there won't be a lie-in tomorrow either. My trusty Audi needs an MOT or 'Controle Auto Technique' as it is called here which takes me firmly into uncharted language territory. I have no idea what all the parts on a car are called in French so it will be an interesting discussion at the garage in the morning. I know there are a couple of minor things that need doing and the garage I am using will do a pre-check and fix any issues before going to get the CAT certificate - well, that's the plan anyway - more tomorrow.
I also have to fix the curtain track that my guests managed to pull off the wall, collect my bike from the Peugeot garage (new inner tube) and Chris and I are going to have a look at the electricity phasing problem to try and stop the power going off every time a guest plugs in a hair dryer which is obviously very embarrassing. Oh, and the drain outside in the courtyard is blocked - so much so that when we had a torrential downpour over the weekend we ended up with a lake from the front door all the way across to the archway. The power chose to cut out just at this point, which meant I was stood in a couple of inches of water in the pouring rain and about to push back the trip switch on my electricity meter - I did wonder to myself if it was going to be the last thing I ever did. As you can see I survived.
Today was the usual round of bed stripping and washing and ironing and rubbish removal that makes up the usual post guest activity, as well as an airport run. The guests have been enjoying my home made jam so much that I was nearly out of it so today, between other jobs, I made another batch of 42rvh strawberry jam which will keep everyone happy I hope for another few weeks.
Denis has approved the budget for the refurbishment of his appartment upstairs so Chris and I sat down this evening to work on the timing schedule and discuss logistics. He's not really going to be able to stay in the Apartment whilst the renovation is going on and he can't really stay in my spare room when I have guests coming in and out, so he's looking for somewhere else to park himself.
I spent an hour and a half this morning just doing business admin - I can't believe how long it takes to keep track of all the enquiries and bookings and have all the paperwork up to date at all times, check the bank accounts online, pay some bills, transfer some money and work out the schedule for the week that will ensure two rooms are in pristine condition on Friday morning before the next guests arrive. I suddenly feel tired.
I still had to be up at 7.30 to do breakfast and there won't be a lie-in tomorrow either. My trusty Audi needs an MOT or 'Controle Auto Technique' as it is called here which takes me firmly into uncharted language territory. I have no idea what all the parts on a car are called in French so it will be an interesting discussion at the garage in the morning. I know there are a couple of minor things that need doing and the garage I am using will do a pre-check and fix any issues before going to get the CAT certificate - well, that's the plan anyway - more tomorrow.
I also have to fix the curtain track that my guests managed to pull off the wall, collect my bike from the Peugeot garage (new inner tube) and Chris and I are going to have a look at the electricity phasing problem to try and stop the power going off every time a guest plugs in a hair dryer which is obviously very embarrassing. Oh, and the drain outside in the courtyard is blocked - so much so that when we had a torrential downpour over the weekend we ended up with a lake from the front door all the way across to the archway. The power chose to cut out just at this point, which meant I was stood in a couple of inches of water in the pouring rain and about to push back the trip switch on my electricity meter - I did wonder to myself if it was going to be the last thing I ever did. As you can see I survived.
Today was the usual round of bed stripping and washing and ironing and rubbish removal that makes up the usual post guest activity, as well as an airport run. The guests have been enjoying my home made jam so much that I was nearly out of it so today, between other jobs, I made another batch of 42rvh strawberry jam which will keep everyone happy I hope for another few weeks.
Denis has approved the budget for the refurbishment of his appartment upstairs so Chris and I sat down this evening to work on the timing schedule and discuss logistics. He's not really going to be able to stay in the Apartment whilst the renovation is going on and he can't really stay in my spare room when I have guests coming in and out, so he's looking for somewhere else to park himself.
I spent an hour and a half this morning just doing business admin - I can't believe how long it takes to keep track of all the enquiries and bookings and have all the paperwork up to date at all times, check the bank accounts online, pay some bills, transfer some money and work out the schedule for the week that will ensure two rooms are in pristine condition on Friday morning before the next guests arrive. I suddenly feel tired.
Sunday 20 April 2008
Cooking for me
What a great day it's been.
For the second time in the short career of 42rvh, a renowned chef from London, staying here for the weekend, has ended up buying food in the fabulous market and cooking for me in my kitchen - it just doesn't get any better than helping a chef prepare dinner and then sitting down with him and his partner around my dining table, chatting and drinking for several hours on a very rainy and stormy day.
He cooked some asparagus with a classic French bearnaise sauce and then produced a wonderful beef casserole (daube de bouef) with herbed pureed potato. I chipped in with some fresh strawberries and whipped cream and meringue to finish it all off. Last night I cooked for them and my other guests who, sadly, left today before getting the chance to sample David's food.
The chef in question is David Eyre, who currently cooks at Eyre Brothers on Leonard St in Shoreditch in London - but is also famous for starting the gastropub revolution with his cooking at the Eagle on Farringdon Road. He's a top man, a great chef, no ego and a absolute pleasure to have stay and cook. In fact, I think I might start a 'which great chef hasn't cooked here?'competition - I think there is definitely an angle there somewhere - not that I'd want it to turn into some sort of reality TV hell - I couldn't think of anything worse.
What was so great was that we all agreed that sitting around the dining table on a rainy Sunday afternoon, eating and drinking and chatting, was the most lovely and convivial way to spend the day and none of us could think of anything else we would rather have been doing. Of course, they got to to retire to their room with a dvd and get their pyjamas and dressing gowns on at 8.00pm whilst I had to clear a kitchen - but then I've got no-one to watch a movie with and no TV to watch it on - poor me.
The other good thing about today was that I took three new bookings including selling out the Bastille Day weekend, which is just fantastic news - all week I have been getting slightly worried about where the next booking was going to come from and then I get three in the space of a few hours.
Gosh I'm tired though - I had to drag myself out of bed this morning to do breakfasts for my guests when all I wanted to do was sleep and sleep and sleep a bit more - even they admitted later that 9.00am was too early on a lazy Sunday morning in a provincial French town. Er - yeah, thanks and goodnight.
For the second time in the short career of 42rvh, a renowned chef from London, staying here for the weekend, has ended up buying food in the fabulous market and cooking for me in my kitchen - it just doesn't get any better than helping a chef prepare dinner and then sitting down with him and his partner around my dining table, chatting and drinking for several hours on a very rainy and stormy day.
He cooked some asparagus with a classic French bearnaise sauce and then produced a wonderful beef casserole (daube de bouef) with herbed pureed potato. I chipped in with some fresh strawberries and whipped cream and meringue to finish it all off. Last night I cooked for them and my other guests who, sadly, left today before getting the chance to sample David's food.
The chef in question is David Eyre, who currently cooks at Eyre Brothers on Leonard St in Shoreditch in London - but is also famous for starting the gastropub revolution with his cooking at the Eagle on Farringdon Road. He's a top man, a great chef, no ego and a absolute pleasure to have stay and cook. In fact, I think I might start a 'which great chef hasn't cooked here?'competition - I think there is definitely an angle there somewhere - not that I'd want it to turn into some sort of reality TV hell - I couldn't think of anything worse.
What was so great was that we all agreed that sitting around the dining table on a rainy Sunday afternoon, eating and drinking and chatting, was the most lovely and convivial way to spend the day and none of us could think of anything else we would rather have been doing. Of course, they got to to retire to their room with a dvd and get their pyjamas and dressing gowns on at 8.00pm whilst I had to clear a kitchen - but then I've got no-one to watch a movie with and no TV to watch it on - poor me.
The other good thing about today was that I took three new bookings including selling out the Bastille Day weekend, which is just fantastic news - all week I have been getting slightly worried about where the next booking was going to come from and then I get three in the space of a few hours.
Gosh I'm tired though - I had to drag myself out of bed this morning to do breakfasts for my guests when all I wanted to do was sleep and sleep and sleep a bit more - even they admitted later that 9.00am was too early on a lazy Sunday morning in a provincial French town. Er - yeah, thanks and goodnight.
It's late and I'm tired
I would love to write a witty and erudite blog but it's late and I'm tired and it isn't going to happen.
I have just finished the washing up and tidying after another, I think, successful dinner for my guests. They made all the right noises and said all the right things so I am hoping they have gone to bed happy and replete.
God knows why they want breakfast at 9.00am on a Sunday morning but they do - so I will be up ahead of them to make it happen. It is now nearly 2.00am - so, goodnight and sweet dreams.
I have just finished the washing up and tidying after another, I think, successful dinner for my guests. They made all the right noises and said all the right things so I am hoping they have gone to bed happy and replete.
God knows why they want breakfast at 9.00am on a Sunday morning but they do - so I will be up ahead of them to make it happen. It is now nearly 2.00am - so, goodnight and sweet dreams.
Thursday 17 April 2008
You get your bread where?
When I arrived back yesterday, Chris was at the airport with the Audi to collect me and promptly announced that we were having lunch in the square with Gary and Patrick - what a lovely welcome back - the sun was out but a bit hazy, the bavette and frites at Felix was as good as ever and a bargain as ever at €7.
It appears that during my two days away 'the boys' had been socialising a bit without me - the nerve. On Tuesday evening they had a barbecue on Patrick's terrace with it's fabulous uninterrupted views of the Cite - it's nice, believe me.
There is something about France that changes people, though - they told me that they had spent a good twenty minutes discussing which boulangerie was best for which bread before they realised they should be talking about rugby or Angelina Jolie (or in Gary's case, Brad Pitt) ...Of course, there are probably 20 boulangeries in the bastide town all baking their own bread and this is just a small town - in England you would have a choice of one and therefore no choice at all. Actually, they were right - I would buy my baguettes, pain cereales, campaillou, mini viennoiserie, pain complet or pain au figues at different places because they are all better at one thing than everyone else, almost as if they had agreed between them in a very French socialist sort of a way that they could all have one speciality on which the others wouldn't compete with them. Still, I can't imagine the boys down the pub in England having a similar conversation - best kebab shop, maybe.
This morning, Chris and I went down to the market, shopping bags in hand, to buy fruit and vegetables. I couldn't have written a more gay sentence if I was trying to write a gay novel. It was as far removed from gay as could be, I assure you - but there weren't any decent strawberries to be had.
I collected the new guests from the airport in the drizzle that they must have brought with them from Manchester - poor things - it was a miserable day here, with relentless rain and a cold gusty wind - not what you come to the Languedoc for. Thankfully, they seemed completely at ease and at home with it all. Of course, this evening the clouds rolled away and the moon shone brightly and the temperature dropped and the radiators were turned on and the power went off - I really must sort that problem out.
It appears that during my two days away 'the boys' had been socialising a bit without me - the nerve. On Tuesday evening they had a barbecue on Patrick's terrace with it's fabulous uninterrupted views of the Cite - it's nice, believe me.
There is something about France that changes people, though - they told me that they had spent a good twenty minutes discussing which boulangerie was best for which bread before they realised they should be talking about rugby or Angelina Jolie (or in Gary's case, Brad Pitt) ...Of course, there are probably 20 boulangeries in the bastide town all baking their own bread and this is just a small town - in England you would have a choice of one and therefore no choice at all. Actually, they were right - I would buy my baguettes, pain cereales, campaillou, mini viennoiserie, pain complet or pain au figues at different places because they are all better at one thing than everyone else, almost as if they had agreed between them in a very French socialist sort of a way that they could all have one speciality on which the others wouldn't compete with them. Still, I can't imagine the boys down the pub in England having a similar conversation - best kebab shop, maybe.
This morning, Chris and I went down to the market, shopping bags in hand, to buy fruit and vegetables. I couldn't have written a more gay sentence if I was trying to write a gay novel. It was as far removed from gay as could be, I assure you - but there weren't any decent strawberries to be had.
I collected the new guests from the airport in the drizzle that they must have brought with them from Manchester - poor things - it was a miserable day here, with relentless rain and a cold gusty wind - not what you come to the Languedoc for. Thankfully, they seemed completely at ease and at home with it all. Of course, this evening the clouds rolled away and the moon shone brightly and the temperature dropped and the radiators were turned on and the power went off - I really must sort that problem out.
Wednesday 16 April 2008
Proposal
Gosh, where to start - so much has happened in the last few days.
The most exciting news was that our first ever marriage proposal, and acceptance I'm relieved to say, took place at the weekend. We had assumed that our guests were married because they talked about it being their third anniversary, but in fact it was just three years since they met - so, lo and behold he only went and popped the question whilst they were staying here at 42ruevictorhugo. How marvellous! I blame the fillet steak and foie gras main course that he had for dinner on Saturday night - all that meaty goodness must have gone to his macho head - could be the most expensive steak he'll ever have. As it was, we just happened to have a bottle of champagne on ice which Debrah was gagging to open anyway and so this was the perfect excuse.
We had a journalist staying with us on Sunday night as well, and with the champagne and the celebration mood it all got a bit out of hand with much wine drunk and 70's hits / name that tune via the magic of i-pod and bose speakers - hopefully we made a good impression. The Gods were a bit angry with us as a major thunderstorm raged all around for a couple of hours.
It had been a glorious Languedoc Sunday, weatherwise, up until then - a fabulous clear blue sky, very still, very quiet - an absolutely beautiful day. Our newly betrothed had wanted to go out for a bike ride alongside the River Aude, but having got the bikes out and given them a once over, it was clear there was a problem with a valve on one of the bike tyres - and on a Sunday in a rural French town, there wasn't going to be anyone around to fix it - so off walking they went instead, a time to lose the steak and duck fat and for a bit of sober reflection !!
Only joking - I am completely thrilled for them and will be gutted if we don't get an invite to the wedding. They were both very lovely people - indeed at one point during the weekend, he ended up showing someone into the hallway downstairs, who wanted to have a look at the fabulous stone staircase and wrought iron balustrade that graces our entrance hall, and waiting whilst they looked before showing them out - when did my guests become tour guides for my house !!
The other first is guests booking a second visit. We have only really been going for about two months, so to get a repeat booking at this early stage is quite unbelievable and wonderful. They only left last week on Tuesday and they have already re-booked for a stay in July which includes two of the music festival concerts - Diana Ross for her and ZZ Top for him - how romantic is that - hmm, not very but it all depends on your musical taste I guess.
Last Sunday afternoon, Chris the builder, returned to France after his latest 3 month stint in the US. He was due to land at 4pm but when I got to the airport I found that there was an hour delay and when I went back a further hour delay which meant a clash between journalist pick-up at the train station and Chris at the airport - business first, so Chris had to wait. The funniest thing is that the plane had taken off on time and Chris had plugged his music in and fallen asleep and the plane had developed a problem and turned around back to Stansted - Chris awoke when the air pressure in his ears told him that the plane was landing only to find to his dismay that they were back at Stansted after an hour and a half flight to nowhere - the ultimate non-journey.
His problems and the usual 'I've got a plane story' scenario didn't fill Debrah with joy prior to our return to London on Monday afternoon. It was all a mad hectic dash around - arriving late Monday evening at home in London, in the office all day yesterday and leaving home at 7.30am this morning to come back to France - only problem is I have left Debrah behind in England for the next week or so, which I don't like doing because I am already missing her. I told you I was only joking about married life - I hate it when Debrah and I are apart.
The most exciting news was that our first ever marriage proposal, and acceptance I'm relieved to say, took place at the weekend. We had assumed that our guests were married because they talked about it being their third anniversary, but in fact it was just three years since they met - so, lo and behold he only went and popped the question whilst they were staying here at 42ruevictorhugo. How marvellous! I blame the fillet steak and foie gras main course that he had for dinner on Saturday night - all that meaty goodness must have gone to his macho head - could be the most expensive steak he'll ever have. As it was, we just happened to have a bottle of champagne on ice which Debrah was gagging to open anyway and so this was the perfect excuse.
We had a journalist staying with us on Sunday night as well, and with the champagne and the celebration mood it all got a bit out of hand with much wine drunk and 70's hits / name that tune via the magic of i-pod and bose speakers - hopefully we made a good impression. The Gods were a bit angry with us as a major thunderstorm raged all around for a couple of hours.
It had been a glorious Languedoc Sunday, weatherwise, up until then - a fabulous clear blue sky, very still, very quiet - an absolutely beautiful day. Our newly betrothed had wanted to go out for a bike ride alongside the River Aude, but having got the bikes out and given them a once over, it was clear there was a problem with a valve on one of the bike tyres - and on a Sunday in a rural French town, there wasn't going to be anyone around to fix it - so off walking they went instead, a time to lose the steak and duck fat and for a bit of sober reflection !!
Only joking - I am completely thrilled for them and will be gutted if we don't get an invite to the wedding. They were both very lovely people - indeed at one point during the weekend, he ended up showing someone into the hallway downstairs, who wanted to have a look at the fabulous stone staircase and wrought iron balustrade that graces our entrance hall, and waiting whilst they looked before showing them out - when did my guests become tour guides for my house !!
The other first is guests booking a second visit. We have only really been going for about two months, so to get a repeat booking at this early stage is quite unbelievable and wonderful. They only left last week on Tuesday and they have already re-booked for a stay in July which includes two of the music festival concerts - Diana Ross for her and ZZ Top for him - how romantic is that - hmm, not very but it all depends on your musical taste I guess.
Last Sunday afternoon, Chris the builder, returned to France after his latest 3 month stint in the US. He was due to land at 4pm but when I got to the airport I found that there was an hour delay and when I went back a further hour delay which meant a clash between journalist pick-up at the train station and Chris at the airport - business first, so Chris had to wait. The funniest thing is that the plane had taken off on time and Chris had plugged his music in and fallen asleep and the plane had developed a problem and turned around back to Stansted - Chris awoke when the air pressure in his ears told him that the plane was landing only to find to his dismay that they were back at Stansted after an hour and a half flight to nowhere - the ultimate non-journey.
His problems and the usual 'I've got a plane story' scenario didn't fill Debrah with joy prior to our return to London on Monday afternoon. It was all a mad hectic dash around - arriving late Monday evening at home in London, in the office all day yesterday and leaving home at 7.30am this morning to come back to France - only problem is I have left Debrah behind in England for the next week or so, which I don't like doing because I am already missing her. I told you I was only joking about married life - I hate it when Debrah and I are apart.
Friday 11 April 2008
Talk to me
Don't you just hate those days when you don't get any emails - makes you feel as if nobody loves you or needs you. I had one of those today and am feeling very paranoid about it. I checked that my connections were working. I sent an email from one of my accounts to the other one - that arrived safely - so the internet is working. Eventually, it dawned on me that no-one had anything to say to me today.
Well, I'm not going to ignore my public - so here I am sat at my computer on a Friday evening recounting the days events.
Rain, wind, rain, wind - dull dull dull - will the weather sort itself out and settle down to some decent warmth and sunshine please. I went up to the airport this morning to collect our new guests and stood about in the rain, getting cold, and generally feeling very sorry for our new arrivals. They are a lovely couple though and it is their anniversary tomorrow - just three years - still not reached the bottle throwing and stabbing phase yet - so much to look forward to. Bless.
They must be onto a good thing because they found our new romantic little restaurant, La Roulotte, all by themselves at lunchtime - had a good lunch and a couple of glasses of wine and promptly dropped off for a siesta all afternoon in their suite. Actually that makes me very happy - couples coming here and relaxing - I bet they can't remember the last time they had an afternoon sleep together.
We had a little chat with them this morning and again this evening over canapes and a couple of drinks. They have only managed to break one mug so far - slipped out of his hand apparently - and they have discovered that their French isn't very good - join the club. We surmised that he is very charming and polite though because he waited patiently whilst a complete stranger had a look at the fabulous old staircase and balustrade, which means that my guests were acting as tourist guides to our entrance hall - I bet he said it was built in 1750, pre-Revolution you know etc etc because I had told him that at lunchtime. If he didn't then he should have done.
This afternoon, Debrah and I put together the our package for the July music festival and launched it onto our website - what we need to do now is publicise it somehow. It is a fabulous offer, as is our Bastille weekend, but we just need to get it out there to generate some interest.
Believe me, any request, no matter how outlandish is welcome - just somebody please send me an email!
Well, I'm not going to ignore my public - so here I am sat at my computer on a Friday evening recounting the days events.
Rain, wind, rain, wind - dull dull dull - will the weather sort itself out and settle down to some decent warmth and sunshine please. I went up to the airport this morning to collect our new guests and stood about in the rain, getting cold, and generally feeling very sorry for our new arrivals. They are a lovely couple though and it is their anniversary tomorrow - just three years - still not reached the bottle throwing and stabbing phase yet - so much to look forward to. Bless.
They must be onto a good thing because they found our new romantic little restaurant, La Roulotte, all by themselves at lunchtime - had a good lunch and a couple of glasses of wine and promptly dropped off for a siesta all afternoon in their suite. Actually that makes me very happy - couples coming here and relaxing - I bet they can't remember the last time they had an afternoon sleep together.
We had a little chat with them this morning and again this evening over canapes and a couple of drinks. They have only managed to break one mug so far - slipped out of his hand apparently - and they have discovered that their French isn't very good - join the club. We surmised that he is very charming and polite though because he waited patiently whilst a complete stranger had a look at the fabulous old staircase and balustrade, which means that my guests were acting as tourist guides to our entrance hall - I bet he said it was built in 1750, pre-Revolution you know etc etc because I had told him that at lunchtime. If he didn't then he should have done.
This afternoon, Debrah and I put together the our package for the July music festival and launched it onto our website - what we need to do now is publicise it somehow. It is a fabulous offer, as is our Bastille weekend, but we just need to get it out there to generate some interest.
Believe me, any request, no matter how outlandish is welcome - just somebody please send me an email!
Thursday 10 April 2008
Wife appreciation
Our new guest was very keen with an 8.30am breakfast request - doesn't she know she's on holiday? - actually she seems to be the all energy type and it might take her longer than her three days here to stop being 'a bit London' - she's lovely and fun and is from the same advertising/publishing/design world that we know so well from our own past/present,(me/Debrah) but, still - calm down - have managed to get her to a 9.00am breakfast tomorrow.
Not that I am angling for a lazy bed morning - I have to be up to finish getting the Apartment ready for new guests who arrive on the early flight from East Midlands at 10.15am - yes, the same early flight I went to meet yesterday in a very mistaken totally wrong sort of way. I actually took the time to write out my schedule for the week because I knew there were a lot of changes and pick-ups and drop-offs and then promptly forgot to look at it and assumed I knew what was happening - such a schoolboy error from a man who always proclaims to be on top of things - the shame, the shame - oh well, what the hell!
Whilst I cleaned and preened the Apartment this morning, Debrah went off with Nathalie for a days shopping in Toulouse. This was always going to be interesting anglo-french entente - Debrah can shop, but usually on her own - so the challenge of shopping with a French woman in a foreign city would be a fascinating clash of cultures and willpower. I waved goodbye and wondered what would happen.
It was gone 6.00pm and I was well into the dinner preparation when I finally heard from Debrah - without repeating the exact words, the message was that she had been out-shopped and underfed - clearly French women live up to their reputation for shopping and not eating at all.
Debrah got back just half an hour before we were due to serve dinner to our guest, but despite having slightly achey feet, I get the impression that she enjoyed her day out and has made a good friend - and she very cleverly didn't spend a fortune, although there was a new handbag to offset the purchase of bins for the suites. - bless your lovely logic and your loveliness in general.
I love you
xx
Not that I am angling for a lazy bed morning - I have to be up to finish getting the Apartment ready for new guests who arrive on the early flight from East Midlands at 10.15am - yes, the same early flight I went to meet yesterday in a very mistaken totally wrong sort of way. I actually took the time to write out my schedule for the week because I knew there were a lot of changes and pick-ups and drop-offs and then promptly forgot to look at it and assumed I knew what was happening - such a schoolboy error from a man who always proclaims to be on top of things - the shame, the shame - oh well, what the hell!
Whilst I cleaned and preened the Apartment this morning, Debrah went off with Nathalie for a days shopping in Toulouse. This was always going to be interesting anglo-french entente - Debrah can shop, but usually on her own - so the challenge of shopping with a French woman in a foreign city would be a fascinating clash of cultures and willpower. I waved goodbye and wondered what would happen.
It was gone 6.00pm and I was well into the dinner preparation when I finally heard from Debrah - without repeating the exact words, the message was that she had been out-shopped and underfed - clearly French women live up to their reputation for shopping and not eating at all.
Debrah got back just half an hour before we were due to serve dinner to our guest, but despite having slightly achey feet, I get the impression that she enjoyed her day out and has made a good friend - and she very cleverly didn't spend a fortune, although there was a new handbag to offset the purchase of bins for the suites. - bless your lovely logic and your loveliness in general.
I love you
xx
Wednesday 9 April 2008
Past it
Last Friday I couldn't understand how Debrah had got her timings so badly awry that she missed her flight out here by a good couple of hours. Today I was at the airport to collect our new arrival a good two hours before she was due to arrive - basically, I went to meet the wrong flight. Well, at least I was early rather than late, but nonetheless I got it terribly wrong and felt a bit stupid.
Our weekend guests have been and gone and we have a single lady here for a couple of days before new weekend guests arrive on Friday. I can't believe we are so busy from a standing start a couple of months ago but I'm not complaining at all. just happily surprised by how well it is all going.
The programme for the July music festival is officially announced this evening amid much expectation. There has already been some leaking of names to build up excitement so we know about Diana Ross and George Benson and ZZ Top and Deep Purple and Massive Attack - not a bad line up really but, as usual, a list of artists just a bit past their best years, to be kind to them. In fact, I am not really expecting anyone else of international reknown - probably a few French crooners and some classical and operatic music, which will no doubt be very good, will make up the rest of the programme.
Tickets go on sale tomorrow - so I better sort out what we want and get down to the ticket office with all the gays queuing up for Ms Ross tickets! - I feel a special weekend offer coming on.
That's not as glib as it sounds because one thing that has surprised me is that we have relatively few bookings for July and August - maybe it's because we promote weekend or short breaks which are by nature booked much more on impulse and much nearer the time of the break or because we cannot cater for families, which is the main summer market - so if we can use the Festival to promote the summer here then we will.
So get those fake long beards and gold sparkly dresses out and come on down to the sunny Languedoc this July.
Our weekend guests have been and gone and we have a single lady here for a couple of days before new weekend guests arrive on Friday. I can't believe we are so busy from a standing start a couple of months ago but I'm not complaining at all. just happily surprised by how well it is all going.
The programme for the July music festival is officially announced this evening amid much expectation. There has already been some leaking of names to build up excitement so we know about Diana Ross and George Benson and ZZ Top and Deep Purple and Massive Attack - not a bad line up really but, as usual, a list of artists just a bit past their best years, to be kind to them. In fact, I am not really expecting anyone else of international reknown - probably a few French crooners and some classical and operatic music, which will no doubt be very good, will make up the rest of the programme.
Tickets go on sale tomorrow - so I better sort out what we want and get down to the ticket office with all the gays queuing up for Ms Ross tickets! - I feel a special weekend offer coming on.
That's not as glib as it sounds because one thing that has surprised me is that we have relatively few bookings for July and August - maybe it's because we promote weekend or short breaks which are by nature booked much more on impulse and much nearer the time of the break or because we cannot cater for families, which is the main summer market - so if we can use the Festival to promote the summer here then we will.
So get those fake long beards and gold sparkly dresses out and come on down to the sunny Languedoc this July.
Monday 7 April 2008
Travel pain
Inevitably, Debrah was awake before her alarm and on an earlier train than she needed to be and first in line at the gate. Equally inevitable was that the flight was late leaving Stansted. However there was such a breeze blowing up there at airline cruise height that the flight only took an hour and twenty five minutes, instead of the usual hour and forty and a lot less than the scheduled two hours which meant it still landed at the scheduled hour. The most important thing is that she arrived, finally.
We have since heard that the flight that Debrah so spectacularly missed on Friday was three hours late getting to Carcassonne anyway! - maybe she could have got the flight?, but who knows and who cares now.
My good friend, Pierre, who rescued me some weeks back with a last minute dash to the airport in his battered but trusty old Peugeot, was due to come up to the airport with me to meet his niece, who was supposed to be on the same flight as Debrah - but alas, her connecting flight from Glasgow to Stansted had problems and she failed to arrive.
Our new guests today drove from Lincolnshire this morning to East Midlands airport, only to find it covered in snow - two hours later than expected they set off for Carcassonne and finally checked in here at 3.30pm after more problems at this end with their hire car.
When the travelling stuff works as planned it's absolutely brilliant to be able to shoot from one country to another in no time at all, but when it all goes wrong it is such a massive pain in the arse. Which is one reason why I am glad that I will be doing the trip a lot less often than I have done over the last two years - bookings mean that I will have to be here more of the time and letting go of the London job means I will have to go back less often too - all of which will improve my rubbish carbon footprint, which would mean a lot to me if I felt it would make a difference - but it won't, so it doesn't.
Debrah and I went straight out to lunch, had a half litre of rose and went home for an afternoon nap before drinks with our guests and then, one week later than planned, dinner at 'La Roulotte' where we had turned up so disastrously late the weekend before - I see a lateness pattern that isn't good.
It was a great evening and a great dinner - lovely food, lovely hospitality, lovely ambience - we will be recommending the place to our guests and going there ourselves as often as our wallets allow.
This evening we cooked dinner for all our guests in the manner that we had planned our dinners when we first put together the idea for our offer and our weekend packages - that is, three groups of two sitting around the dinner table together, getting to know each other a little bit and sharing food and wine - hopefully good food and wine, but that is for our guests to judge.
So, with most of the washing up done and breakfasts looming - I'm off to bed.
We have since heard that the flight that Debrah so spectacularly missed on Friday was three hours late getting to Carcassonne anyway! - maybe she could have got the flight?, but who knows and who cares now.
My good friend, Pierre, who rescued me some weeks back with a last minute dash to the airport in his battered but trusty old Peugeot, was due to come up to the airport with me to meet his niece, who was supposed to be on the same flight as Debrah - but alas, her connecting flight from Glasgow to Stansted had problems and she failed to arrive.
Our new guests today drove from Lincolnshire this morning to East Midlands airport, only to find it covered in snow - two hours later than expected they set off for Carcassonne and finally checked in here at 3.30pm after more problems at this end with their hire car.
When the travelling stuff works as planned it's absolutely brilliant to be able to shoot from one country to another in no time at all, but when it all goes wrong it is such a massive pain in the arse. Which is one reason why I am glad that I will be doing the trip a lot less often than I have done over the last two years - bookings mean that I will have to be here more of the time and letting go of the London job means I will have to go back less often too - all of which will improve my rubbish carbon footprint, which would mean a lot to me if I felt it would make a difference - but it won't, so it doesn't.
Debrah and I went straight out to lunch, had a half litre of rose and went home for an afternoon nap before drinks with our guests and then, one week later than planned, dinner at 'La Roulotte' where we had turned up so disastrously late the weekend before - I see a lateness pattern that isn't good.
It was a great evening and a great dinner - lovely food, lovely hospitality, lovely ambience - we will be recommending the place to our guests and going there ourselves as often as our wallets allow.
This evening we cooked dinner for all our guests in the manner that we had planned our dinners when we first put together the idea for our offer and our weekend packages - that is, three groups of two sitting around the dinner table together, getting to know each other a little bit and sharing food and wine - hopefully good food and wine, but that is for our guests to judge.
So, with most of the washing up done and breakfasts looming - I'm off to bed.
Friday 4 April 2008
Missed
I missed Debrah today but it shouldn't have been like that. She was supposed to be flying out this morning for the weekend but unaccountably got all her timings wrong. I called her at 8am UK time, expecting her to be in transit to Stansted by then - I got no answer from her mobile (which was unhelpfully set to silent mode apparently). Fifteen minutes later I noticed, via the magic of skype, that she was online which meant that she was still at home. The exchange of messages was as follows;
Me - are you still at home?
Debrah - yes, just having some breakfast, will leave at 9.00
Me - isn't your flight at 9.50?
Debrah - oh shit
There was no way she was going to make the flight, which left her feeling angry with herself at her own stupidity (her words) and me feeling helpless, frustrated and sad. It was my fault, of course, for not phoning her last night!!
Last night I went out for a quiet drink and ended up in a lock-in at a birthday party of a girl that I'd only met once or twice before and hardly knew at all. There was dancing on the bar and impromptu French chanson karaoke (even more incomprehensible than normal) and too much red wine and a early morning finish - so, of course, Debrah missing her flight was definitely my fault for getting mixed up in such company when I should have been at home talking her through setting the alarm clock and ordering the cab.
Other than that, yesterday was quite productive. I have recently discovered the trick of dealing with globe artichokes, which until now had always been a bit of a mystery to me. Of course, everything is easy when you are shown how and between the chef who visited some weeks ago and the Austrian journalist last week, I was shown first hand how to extricate the treat the precious hearts. As they are now in full season and very cheap, I spent Thursday afternoon preparing, cooking and bottling 30 artichokes, which is quite time consuming and produces an enormous amount of waste vegetable matter, but is ultimately very fulfilling.
On an over the top cooking day, I even baked a cake! No, not one of the excellent pre-prepared cake mix packets that one can buy in the supermarket - a proper make it yourself eggs, butter and flour classic victoria sponge type cake that my mum used to make all the time when I was a boy. I think baking a good cake should be part of a school syllabus - it is the sort of activity that brings family and society back together - just the smell of the pre-cooked cake mix took me back 30, well maybe 40, years. I added lemon juice and zest to mine and the guests had some on their breakfast tray this morning.
My guests are as low maintenance as they could possibly be. Since sitting with them over a drink and a few canapes on the evening of their arrival day, I have seen them only twice to hand them a breakfast tray each morning. They seem to be very happy though and they even wash all their breakfast stuff up so that I get back a tray of spotlessly clean crockery and cutlery - guests that do my job for me is something I should encourage - maybe I should put on the website 'you will be expected to wash up your breakfast tray, clean your own bathroom and change your own bed before you leave'.
It was a beautiful Spring day here today, not a cloud in the sky, coolish breeze morning and evening and 20 degree sunshine in the middle of the day, which made Debrah's non-arrival all the more disappointing. My day had been planned around some morning chores and then an airport pick-up - chores having been done and no pick-up to do, I decided to take advantage of the sun and sit in the square for a while. I had intentions of writing the notes for the guest information packs to go in each suite but one person after another came past and joined me in the sunshine - no notes were written, some wine was drunk and I have a sunburnt face , neck and forearms.
That will teach me to sit around doing nothing when there is probably a toilet somewhere I should be cleaning or some sheets I should be ironing. There is bound to be something I have missed.
Me - are you still at home?
Debrah - yes, just having some breakfast, will leave at 9.00
Me - isn't your flight at 9.50?
Debrah - oh shit
There was no way she was going to make the flight, which left her feeling angry with herself at her own stupidity (her words) and me feeling helpless, frustrated and sad. It was my fault, of course, for not phoning her last night!!
Last night I went out for a quiet drink and ended up in a lock-in at a birthday party of a girl that I'd only met once or twice before and hardly knew at all. There was dancing on the bar and impromptu French chanson karaoke (even more incomprehensible than normal) and too much red wine and a early morning finish - so, of course, Debrah missing her flight was definitely my fault for getting mixed up in such company when I should have been at home talking her through setting the alarm clock and ordering the cab.
Other than that, yesterday was quite productive. I have recently discovered the trick of dealing with globe artichokes, which until now had always been a bit of a mystery to me. Of course, everything is easy when you are shown how and between the chef who visited some weeks ago and the Austrian journalist last week, I was shown first hand how to extricate the treat the precious hearts. As they are now in full season and very cheap, I spent Thursday afternoon preparing, cooking and bottling 30 artichokes, which is quite time consuming and produces an enormous amount of waste vegetable matter, but is ultimately very fulfilling.
On an over the top cooking day, I even baked a cake! No, not one of the excellent pre-prepared cake mix packets that one can buy in the supermarket - a proper make it yourself eggs, butter and flour classic victoria sponge type cake that my mum used to make all the time when I was a boy. I think baking a good cake should be part of a school syllabus - it is the sort of activity that brings family and society back together - just the smell of the pre-cooked cake mix took me back 30, well maybe 40, years. I added lemon juice and zest to mine and the guests had some on their breakfast tray this morning.
My guests are as low maintenance as they could possibly be. Since sitting with them over a drink and a few canapes on the evening of their arrival day, I have seen them only twice to hand them a breakfast tray each morning. They seem to be very happy though and they even wash all their breakfast stuff up so that I get back a tray of spotlessly clean crockery and cutlery - guests that do my job for me is something I should encourage - maybe I should put on the website 'you will be expected to wash up your breakfast tray, clean your own bathroom and change your own bed before you leave'.
It was a beautiful Spring day here today, not a cloud in the sky, coolish breeze morning and evening and 20 degree sunshine in the middle of the day, which made Debrah's non-arrival all the more disappointing. My day had been planned around some morning chores and then an airport pick-up - chores having been done and no pick-up to do, I decided to take advantage of the sun and sit in the square for a while. I had intentions of writing the notes for the guest information packs to go in each suite but one person after another came past and joined me in the sunshine - no notes were written, some wine was drunk and I have a sunburnt face , neck and forearms.
That will teach me to sit around doing nothing when there is probably a toilet somewhere I should be cleaning or some sheets I should be ironing. There is bound to be something I have missed.
Wednesday 2 April 2008
New Guests
Our new guests spent all day travelling to get here - not the quick weekend break that we anticipated would entice people away. They set off at 3.30am from Kelso in the Scottish Borders and arrived here at 4.00pm via Edinburgh and London Stansted and are staying for 6 nights, which is great. I hope the weather picks up for them.
It was slightly better today, but because I washed the car this morning, it was inevitable that a rogue shower would pass - such is life. My new guests couldn't stop telling me how warm it was here, which just goes to show how damn cold it must be in Scotland.
This morning I dropped into the British shop here in town, which is run by the lovely Anne, and her faithful old dog who barks at you and then licks you like mad. I went to give her some cards which she has been asking me for and she also gave me another couple of useful contacts who might push the odd bit of business my way.
I can't go anywhere these days without bumping into someone. At the airport, Bob and Catherine, on their way back from a weekend in London, arrived on the same flight as my guests - they thought I had come to pick them up - the cheek of it! I also bumped into Jason from VEF, the agency that sold us our apartments here in France, who was picking up some clients by the look of things so hopefully things are going well for him too - in fact, I should call him about putting people up here as well.
On top of all that I did some car flirting with the lady owner of the other Audi Cabriolet of the same vintage in the region.
"Nice car", I said. "Yours looks good too", she replied, before the flow of visitors emanating from the arrivals hall stopped our conversation developing any further - just as well.
I had a long chat with our guests this evening over some canapes and drinks - too long in fact because I missed the first half of the Champions League quarter final as a result - I don't know, the sacrifices you have to make to run a business properly.
And it's back on the breakfast bandwagon tomorrow morning, so that's it for now.
It was slightly better today, but because I washed the car this morning, it was inevitable that a rogue shower would pass - such is life. My new guests couldn't stop telling me how warm it was here, which just goes to show how damn cold it must be in Scotland.
This morning I dropped into the British shop here in town, which is run by the lovely Anne, and her faithful old dog who barks at you and then licks you like mad. I went to give her some cards which she has been asking me for and she also gave me another couple of useful contacts who might push the odd bit of business my way.
I can't go anywhere these days without bumping into someone. At the airport, Bob and Catherine, on their way back from a weekend in London, arrived on the same flight as my guests - they thought I had come to pick them up - the cheek of it! I also bumped into Jason from VEF, the agency that sold us our apartments here in France, who was picking up some clients by the look of things so hopefully things are going well for him too - in fact, I should call him about putting people up here as well.
On top of all that I did some car flirting with the lady owner of the other Audi Cabriolet of the same vintage in the region.
"Nice car", I said. "Yours looks good too", she replied, before the flow of visitors emanating from the arrivals hall stopped our conversation developing any further - just as well.
I had a long chat with our guests this evening over some canapes and drinks - too long in fact because I missed the first half of the Champions League quarter final as a result - I don't know, the sacrifices you have to make to run a business properly.
And it's back on the breakfast bandwagon tomorrow morning, so that's it for now.
Tuesday 1 April 2008
Hail Caesar
I had a visit today from Lauren, a representative of the Chamber of Commerce for Carcassonne. He spoke very good English - much better than my French - and explained what the OCC (for short) was doing in the town, the network that they were setting up and the benefits that were available if I was to join them.
He also explained that the OCC is completely separate from the Mairie and the Conseil General and the Office du Tourisme - all of which are completely different civil service entities within the French governmental framework, with their own funding and objectives and that a lot of his job is spent dealing with the politics of a large number of different organisations all trying to achieve the same objective. Well, when 25% of the workforce is involved in the civil service, there is bound to be an element of overlap and politics.
To be fair to Lauren he stressed that the Mairie is working very hard with the OCC to find common ground in promoting the Bastide town as a destination (latest figures suggest four million tourists visit the Cite and only fifty thousand tourists come into the Bastide) - an alarming difference if the numbers are correct - and my 4 visitors a week when I am full isn't going to make that much difference - so anything that the OCC and anyone else can do to promote the Bastide has to be welcomed and I think I have to be part of that effort because I am bringing people directly into the old town simply because of where I am located.
He is going to send me some information about what they can do for me, especially in relation to their marketing. If I think it is right I will join.
In the meantime gossip about the July Festival continues to be leaked out piecemeal ahead of the official announcement of the programme next week. ZZ Top, Deep Purple, Massive Attack and today Diana Ross - apparently she is only doing three shows in France on her world tour and they are Paris, Monte Carlo and here - well done Carcassonne is all I can say. She may be an old over the top diva but she is a legend and my many gay friends will probably be queuing around the block when the tickets go on sale. After me, darlings - I think this is one concert I probably should make an effort to go to - ooh, I feel a special offer coming on!
After years of criticising Debrah for parking herself in front of the TV watching back to back episodes of ER and the 4400 and Scrubs and whatever other shite American drama comes along - I have to confess that I have watched the whole of the first series of Rome in two evenings and am completely hooked by it and and am distraught that I haven't got the second series to hand because I want to watch it NOW.
Ridiculously, the box set has been sat on my desk for about six months since Gary lent it to me and I have only just got round to watching it - in fact I stayed in to watch Rome instead of going out to watch Man Utd v Roma - that says it all in a neat juxtaposition sort of way.
So, my lovely, when you read this, I apologise for all those sarcastic comments about ER.
It is not so different really - a lot of shouting, a lot of blood, a lot of emotion, a lot of lives turning on a moment, a lot of death, a lot of hope - the biggest difference was probably the amount of sex - not really allowed to show that on American prime time, just imply it, whilst in Rome we had James Purefoy standing naked, arms outstretched, whilst water was thrown over him by the bucket load and any number of nubile women with no clothes on.
I know which I prefer.
He also explained that the OCC is completely separate from the Mairie and the Conseil General and the Office du Tourisme - all of which are completely different civil service entities within the French governmental framework, with their own funding and objectives and that a lot of his job is spent dealing with the politics of a large number of different organisations all trying to achieve the same objective. Well, when 25% of the workforce is involved in the civil service, there is bound to be an element of overlap and politics.
To be fair to Lauren he stressed that the Mairie is working very hard with the OCC to find common ground in promoting the Bastide town as a destination (latest figures suggest four million tourists visit the Cite and only fifty thousand tourists come into the Bastide) - an alarming difference if the numbers are correct - and my 4 visitors a week when I am full isn't going to make that much difference - so anything that the OCC and anyone else can do to promote the Bastide has to be welcomed and I think I have to be part of that effort because I am bringing people directly into the old town simply because of where I am located.
He is going to send me some information about what they can do for me, especially in relation to their marketing. If I think it is right I will join.
In the meantime gossip about the July Festival continues to be leaked out piecemeal ahead of the official announcement of the programme next week. ZZ Top, Deep Purple, Massive Attack and today Diana Ross - apparently she is only doing three shows in France on her world tour and they are Paris, Monte Carlo and here - well done Carcassonne is all I can say. She may be an old over the top diva but she is a legend and my many gay friends will probably be queuing around the block when the tickets go on sale. After me, darlings - I think this is one concert I probably should make an effort to go to - ooh, I feel a special offer coming on!
After years of criticising Debrah for parking herself in front of the TV watching back to back episodes of ER and the 4400 and Scrubs and whatever other shite American drama comes along - I have to confess that I have watched the whole of the first series of Rome in two evenings and am completely hooked by it and and am distraught that I haven't got the second series to hand because I want to watch it NOW.
Ridiculously, the box set has been sat on my desk for about six months since Gary lent it to me and I have only just got round to watching it - in fact I stayed in to watch Rome instead of going out to watch Man Utd v Roma - that says it all in a neat juxtaposition sort of way.
So, my lovely, when you read this, I apologise for all those sarcastic comments about ER.
It is not so different really - a lot of shouting, a lot of blood, a lot of emotion, a lot of lives turning on a moment, a lot of death, a lot of hope - the biggest difference was probably the amount of sex - not really allowed to show that on American prime time, just imply it, whilst in Rome we had James Purefoy standing naked, arms outstretched, whilst water was thrown over him by the bucket load and any number of nubile women with no clothes on.
I know which I prefer.
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