Tuesday 31 March 2009

Wet Feet

After my weekend exertions up a mountain it was back to the weekday routine of guests checking out, room changes, laundry, ironing and new guest arrivals.

My new guests arrived today on the first flight on the new Edinburgh to Carcassonne route. Unfortunately, they had typical Scottish weather to welcome them - grey skies and a constant drizzle - most un-Languedoc like.

As I drove up to the airport I was reminded that I needed new windscreen wipers for the car - because the old ones were doing such a bad job of giving me any decent visibility. So this afternoon I ventured out to 'Feu Vert' to invest in some shiny new car parts and I can now see the road again.

The rain also found a way into my feet. I knew that one pair of shoes had worn through the soles and that others were summer shoes and not at all meant for using in water, but I thought that my black boots were sound - how wrong I was. I have come to the conclusion that they were put under too much strain over the rocks and sand in Sweden and sadly they have succumbed to the wear and tear of the last two years. It seems that I need to go shoe shopping, which isn't something that I usually readily admit to.

Of course, being a useless man when it comes to this sort of stuff, I will wait for Debrah to arrive to help the process along - she is so much more experienced at shoe shopping than I will ever be.

Sunday 29 March 2009

Montsegur

I know I'm in danger of going on about my ears - but I just want them to do ear stuff, like collecting sounds and keeping my balance, rather than whooshing sea noises or faint ringing or just being rather useless at hearing things.

The good news is that I think they are on the mend and it has only cost me €2.49 for some ear drops from the pharmacy. I had quite an interesting conversation with the pharmacist about ear pressure and sinusus and the like - most of which I couldn't hear and all of which I didn't understand. Still, I walked away with a packet of goodies which is the object of a visit to the pharmacy, so job done.

Before I'd even had time to assemble the squeezy ear dropper top onto the bottle of magic ear healing liquid, my left ear just popped all by itself with a resounding 'hahaha' and let all sorts of obnoxious revving bikes and common chav noises back into my head without warning - which was a bit of a shock on all levels.

The left side of my head continues to play games though, filling up and popping at random, whereas the right stubbornly refuses to join in the fun, maintaining a stoic silence on events.

On a sudden whim today, I decided to visit the Cathar castle at Montsegur. It has been on my list of things to do for a long time and is one of the few Cathar castles that I haven't been to see. It is also the sight of the final Cathar siege and a bloody massacre by the Catholic bastards who fought for themselves and the Pope in the name of God. You know - God - I want your land and I don't trust you so I'm going to kill you and everyone else who doesn't give all their money to me - well according to the Pope that's what he said.

Anyway, I digress somewhat onto slightly political and religious matters and this is not a power blog, so enough of that nonsense.

Debrah isn't so keen on the castle thing as I am, so I decided to get out of town and get some air and cross Montsegur off the list of places to visit. It wasn't a bad day, a bit springlike, sunshine and showers and blustery - didn't stop me wrapping up and putting the roof down and letting the wind bounce off the cotton wool in my ears.

Montsegur is a completely amazing place. As you get closer you can see this wreck of a stone castle perched on the top of mountain surrounded by other mountains with snow on them still - it looks totally impregnable and a totally ridiculous place to build a castle - but it might have made sense once I guess.

As I motored up the mountain back and forth through the switchback hairpins, my forehead just above my nose started to hurt like hell - sinuses still not fixed then - and I wondered if I was doing the right thing. Strangely at altitude my ears felt better, just as they did on the plane - perhaps I should go and live on top of a mountain.

If I do, I'd like a bit more comfort than four slightly decaying stone walls, no roof or windows and rocks for a floor - oh, and a thirty minute lung busting, thigh burning climb to the front door - which was missing. Cathar castles look fantastic from the road, from below, from the air, from any possible vantage point except from inside them - they are just all a pile of empty stones. You get a great view and the exercise is life threateningly stimulating but apart from that there isn't a great deal to see at any of them.

Having driven up a mountain and parked the car, and then walked further up a mountain, I came across a kiosk where I was obliged to hand over some dosh before being allowed to carry on.

It struck me as a bit odd that the kiosk is halfway up the mountain rather than just by the car park. By the time most people get to the kiosk they can't speak and can hardly breath, never mind fumble about in their pockets with frozen hands for a few euros for the 'upkeep' of the place. Upkeep of what - there is no path to speak of, no signage, no railings, no information, certainly no health and safety and no staff other than the poor sod who has to sit in a wooden hut 1200m up a mountain trying to get money from punters about to have a heart attack.

That is good old French job creation that is - the fees pay for the salary and a job exists - no fee, no job. The castle - it's been there for a thousand years so it's not going anywhere and if you slip and kill yourself then that's your own stupid fault isn't it.

Splendid view though - you can see for miles and miles and miles up there - or should that be kilometres. No, I'm English, miles it is.

Both sets of guests went up to the Cité today. It's a slightly easier walk and there is at least something within the walls - restaurants and tourist tat shops admittedly - but you don't have to pay to get in. Watch out for those kids with plastic swords though - they'll have your eye out and I bet your insurance won't cover that!

Friday 27 March 2009

Speak up

This world of muffled sound and cotton wool filled ears is really beginning to piss me off now. I know I have probably got some sort of ear infection and I should go and see a doctor - but I am obviously trying to avoid the cost and hoping that it will sort itself out sometime soon.

Past experience tells me that an ear infection is terribly painful, but I don't have any pain at all, just an uncomfortable feeling in my head.

The uncomfortable feeling seems to switch from one ear to the other. Several times over the last couple of days I have thought I detected a change. thought that my ears had cleared, only for it to continue as before.

It's a very odd sensation to have all normal sound subdued but to have a slight constant ringing noise in your head. Strangely, when I speak it feels to me as if I am shouting - the sound is very loud inside - but apparently I am actually talking very softly. If anyone else says 'pardon' to me and then laughs at their own hilarious joke I shall probably punch them.

Which is one of the reasons why I am sat at home on my own on this Friday evening - when you can't converse normally with other people it all becomes a bit too much like hard work and besides, a quiet (stop laughing) night in is probably better for me right now.

It was actually a lovely day today. The cool wind of the last couple of days had disappeared and the morning cloud was burned away by the midday sun, which all worked out perfectly for me to spend a pleasant couple of hours in the square this afternoon.

My departing guests checked out at midday and both sets of new guests had been settled into their suites by 1.45pm, after one very rapid room changeover, which left me free to just catch the last bavette frites at Felix and enjoy some sunshine and my book.

The new leaves are just beginning to unfurl on the plane trees and as I looked up through the new bright green shoots to the azure blue sky, an airliner left it's white jet stream in a perfect arc across the centre of my line of vision.

I was lost in my own world at that moment - partly because I can't really hear the real world - well, I can hear it but it feels like it's over there and not here if you know what I mean.

It feels a bit like a dream, which is OK - if it turns into a nightmare I won't be happy at all.

Thursday 26 March 2009

Pardon

Two flights in less than 24 hours, in and out of time zones, in and out of home, going deaf, dinner with guests, a bit of DIY and leaving Debrah behind in the UK where the suspension broke on the car - it has been a crazy couple of days.

At 9.00pm on Tuesday evening (European time) we were sat in Arlanda airport, Stockholm. At 10.30pm (GMT) we were at Terminal 5, Heathrow. At 10.00am (GMT) I was at Stansted and at 2.00pm (European time) I was about to land at Carcassonne. It's a good job British Summer Time didn't start on the same night or I would have been totally confused - as it is I had to think very carefully about setting my alarm for Wednesday morning.

I spent about 9 hours at home in London which wasn't enough, especially as I was asleep for 7 of them. Sadly, when I came back to France, I left Debrah in London and whilst it was great to be back in our wonderful apartment, opening the shutters to let in the glorious Languedoc light, I very quickly felt a bit lost and lonely without Debrah here too.

It doesn't help that all sound is muffled at the moment. My cold has been hanging on longer than strictly necessary and my sinuses are still a bit blocked. When we flew into London it was very painful and my ears filled up as they often do when you start your descent on a flight - only they haven't corrected themselves yet. My ears feel like they are full of cotton wool. It is very uncomfortable and has the effect of deadening all sound - which is good in some respects (noisy bikes etc) but very disconcerting most of the time.

When I flew to France they were OK when I was up at altitude but filled up again on arrival - bizarre. Hopefully they will sort themselves out soon. It has now gone beyond the mildly amusing stage.

My current clients were on the same flight as me - they have stayed before and are also clients of Lesa and were here to sign the papers on an apartment in town. They insisted on taking me out to dinner last night which was very generous of them - we ate at 'Divine Comedie' - a very reliable and unpretentious brasserie on the edge of the Bastide.

I have two new couples arriving tomorrow for the weekend so decided to give everything a check, having not been here for two weeks. I knew that the wall lights in the apartment had stopped working - I traced the dodgy connection this afternoon while the guests were out signing documents in French that they didn't understand - but also found two light bulbs out and a broken bathroom hook in the mezzanine suite. How did that happen? - they were all OK when I left here two weeks ago - spooky.

Anyway, all fixed now and ready to go.

Tuesday 24 March 2009

Bye Bye Stockholm

Snow .... sun .... snow .....sun - the weather can't decide what it's doing. One thing stays constant though - it's damn cold.

We have spent the last two days wandering the streets of Stockholm, in and out of shops, admiring the architecture and the cold wintry views. It is a lovely city. It feels empty and quiet compared to London and extremely civilised. I would love to come back in the summer when the pavement cafes would be full of people enjoying 'fika' (relaxing with coffee and friends) and it would be a lot warmer!

We toyed with going to a museum today but ended up just wandering around more shops in the city centre - H&M, of course and NK, the big department store (Stockholm's equivalent of Selfridges). We looked but we didn't buy.

We lunched at one of the city's top fish restaurants, Wedholms Fisk. It is obviously a place for business lunches and was full of suited men - virtually all men which surprised me. We felt decidedly underdressed but what the hell - we wanted a proper white table cloth, top notch fish lunch and that was what we got - very good value from the lunchtime special menu - one plate of salmon, herring, cod and halibut between us and two glasses of a delicious Spanish wine from Galicia - excellent.

And so our Swedish sojourn comes to an end - just remains to pack our bags and head off to Arlanda airport for our flight back to London. 'Tack', Sandra and 'tack', Stockholm for a great weekend away.

Sunday 22 March 2009

Peter Potatoes

Several years ago Sandra lived with us in London for a few months before she moved back to Stockholm - now she is more than repaying the favour by letting us live in her apartment in Stockholm, whilst she stays with Mats.

Staying in an apartment is so much better than staying in a hotel room - especially one as lovely as this. It has authentic period features (probably 1920's) - parquet flooring in the living room and painted wood floors elsewhere. It makes our London apartment seem really small, even though it is only marginally bigger - the layout and use of space sees to that.

This evening, partly because of Sandra's time with us in London, I found myself cooking a traditional English roast dinner for our hosts - rack of lamb with roast potatoes (Peter potatoes apparently) sprouts, cabbage, parsnips and a freshly made mint sauce. Bizarrely, cooking dinner myself and then settling down on the sofa with Debrah after Sandra and Mats have left only adds to the perception of us being in our apartment, rather than the other way around.

The forecast snow finally arrived late this afternoon - reminding us that we are still in the Swedish winter, but strangely enough it just adds to the feeling that we are looking out onto a New York scene - weird.

We awoke this morning to the sun rising above a tranquil and springlike Baltic Sea and we will go to bed looking out onto a snowy wet dark winter scene - what a long and strange day it has been

Archipelago

Am now back in Stockholm after our 24 hours out in the archipelago to the east of the city. The weather was very kind to us - the expected snow held off - in fact the sun shone most of the time and the wind was minimal - it was perfect and very beautiful.

We stayed on the island of Sandhamn, which is out at the far end of the archipelago virtually out in the Baltic Sea. We reached the island via a 30 minute drive and an hours ferry ride. Sandra had prepared a picnic for us to eat on the way, which inevitably included some salmon and dill salad and shrimps and reindeer and horseradish paste - at last, some genuine local food.

The whole archipelago is extremely beautiful - thousands of tree covered islands with traditional wooded houses dotted along their coastlines. It is a sailors and nature lovers paradise and the ferry service makes the whole area very accessible for those without their own boats and for visitors.

We took a fairly early ferry and so arrived on Sandhamn mid-morning and well before our rooms were ready. There really was nothing else to do other than take a walk and nose around, from a suitable distance, the mostly empty houses. There were still patches of snow on the ground but it was really quite warm in the sheltered sunny spots. We walked the whole length of one coastline and then back to the village of Sandhamn along the central 'road'. It was the longest walk I had done for a while - exhilarating, refreshing, tiring - we were all ready for a beer and some lunch when we got back, so we dropped into the island pub.

Fresh air, exercise, food and alcohol meant that an afternoon nap was inevitable. Sandra and Mats went off to the sauna, naturally - but we had forgotten to bring swimmies with us so we gave it a miss. I've heard about Swedes in saunas!

Later we drank cocktails in the bar and had a delicious dinner at the hotel and woke early to see the sun rise over the Baltic - well nearly - we looked out of the window at it before snuggling back down for a bit longer.

Back in town, Mats went off to do some work on his boat and Debrah, Sandra and me went off for a stroll and a coffee - 'fika' in Swedish - the art of socialising at a cafe - I love the way different languages have words that don't directly translate into an English word.

Saturday 21 March 2009

Stockholm

I am looking out of the windows of Sandra's corner apartment in Stockholm and strangely it has the feel of New York (without the skyscrapers) - the grid system of broad streets in this part of town, the taxis, the apartment blocks, the pizza shop downstairs, the coffee shop across the road and the corner supermarket.

Sandra has a lovely apartment in the Sodermalm district, just 5 minutes from the centre of the city (by taxi) and she has generously lent the place to us for the weekend - she is staying with her man in another part of town.

Our weekend started 24 hours ago at Heathrow Terminal 5. It was my first time through the new terminal and very impressive it was too - it seemed quite spacious and a lot less frenetic than any previous visit to Heathrow, which wasn't difficult.

It also made a change to be flying with an airline that wasn't Ryanair - in this case it was British Airways. More legroom, more hand luggage, free food and drinks - and not much more expensive than many Ryanair tickets bought over the years.

We arrived in Stockholm in bright sunshine but there is snow on the ground in the countryside and ice in the sea. We could have gone south to Carcassonne, where it has been 20 degrees plus this week, but we came north to Stockholm where it is just above freezing.

My first impressions are all good. The city seems incredibly clean and there are so few people too by comparison with London. We dropped our bags at Sandra's office and went off for a walk, a browse in the shops and a coffee - I love the blankets they put on the outside chairs in the cafes to keep the smokers warm.

Last night we met Mats for the first time and we all went out for supper together to a bustling grill restaurant in the city centre. I was expecting more pickled fish and elk stew, but apparently that lies in store for us today, when we are sailing out into the archipeligo and staying overnight on one the islands - I so have clothes for a city break rather than a country/sailing excursion, but I'm sure I'll cope.

Thursday 19 March 2009

Family stuff

Christian really liked the college and it's facilities and he really liked Falmouth and he thought the interview went well - so now he, and we, just have to wait and see if he gets an offer. Let's hope so - for his sake!

Yesterday, I went down to Sussex to see my Mum and Dad and took my Mum a big bunch of flowers ahead of Mothers Day this weekend - very beautiful they were - chosen by Debrah at Borough Market when I dropped her off at work.

The drive both ways was horrendous - stop start stop start, traffic lights, roadworks - two hours to go 50 miles. Driving in the South East of England is something I haven't missed whilst I was in France.

It was good to see Mum and Dad though. They were looking well and in good spirit. Mum is 80 this year so we (the family) need to sort out what we are going to do to mark the occasion - that won't be easy to sort out - family events are always difficult, but we'll sort something in the end I'm sure.

Tuesday 17 March 2009

Kids

Just when you think that your children are growing up and starting to act more responsibly. Just when you think you can trust them. Just when you think you can start to step back from having to wipe their noses all the time - they let you down.

So it has been with Christian over the last few days. Tomorrow he has his interview at Falmouth for the degree course he really wants to do next year. Falmouth is not just round the corner from London so the whole trip needed a bit of planning. As of Sunday evening he had been out since Friday morning and had no train, no place to stay and no work prepared. So we organised his train for him (we were always going to pay for it of course) and his bed and breakfast and Debrah spent 3 hours on Monday evening helping him sort out his portfolio - and then - he forgot to take his sketch book and his lunch with him and he missed the train because he left too late - unbelievable.

Debrah is understandably furious with him. I have tried to be calm because I want him to focus on the interview - he has eventually made it to Falmouth about 4 hours later than planned and at considerable extra cost. Fingers crossed that he doesn't screw anything up tomorrow.

It had been a lovely weekend up until that point. We had a delicious dinner at Orrery on Friday evening and then a bit of shopping on Saturday followed by one of Debrah's fabulous Thai green curry's on Saturday evening and then even more shopping on Sunday. The sun was shining and Spring feels like it is on the way - hurrah.

This week I have joined the Facebook fraternity (better late than never) and Twitter (getting in there earlyish on that one) - both of which I am loving. I now have three places to leave my rambling nonsense and views. When I can afford it (whenever that is) I will get myself a decent up to date mobile rather than the antique steam driven machine I am still using - then I can be permanently on the air.

The other downside to this week is that I am blowing my nose a lot - I can't believe I have another cold - and only two days before going to Stockholm for the weekend. Must be time for another lemsip.

Friday 13 March 2009

Back in the City

It has been an interesting couple of days getting my head around spending more time back in London - not just working out how I am going to run and manage the business in France but also getting used to life back in the capital again.

For the past year I have rarely spent more than a few days at a time here and so didn't really need to get that involved - the purpose of each of those trips was to see Debrah and help her with any everyday issues and admin as necessary.

But now that I know I am going to be here more often I have been looking at things differently - what do I like about London, what am I going to have to tolerate and what will just piss me off? Inevitably it is a mix of all three.

Yesterday, I had arranged to meet an old work colleague for lunch and a very good friend for a drink in the evening.

The first thing that struck me was how much I hated the train and tube journey into the West End. I have done it daily for 25 years and just accepted it as part of life - I tolerated it and was immune to it - it was a necessity. Now that I am used to just walking somewhere or jumping in the car and being there in five or ten minutes without any delays, I found that even standing on the platform waiting for the train a great irritation and the journey itself extremely dull - it all felt like wasted time.

Carl was ten minutes late, which is nothing, but had to leave 35 minutes later because of a 2.00pm meeting. That wasn't lunch. That was barely a catch-up and certainly not worth travelling into Central London for on it's own. I can tell I am going to miss the civilised two hours that everyone takes in France - two hours that actually gives you time to eat and relax and talk if you are meeting someone.

But then the day got better. I miss the big sprawling bookshops like Waterstones and Borders, so it was great to be able to spend an hour browsing - there are bookshops in France of course but all the books are in French - there is also Amazon, who are great, but it's just not the same as the tactile browsing of shelves.

Whilst heading south from Oxford Street, I dropped into Bentley's restaurant, ostensibly to make a reservation for Debrah and me for Saturday lunchtime, but after my non-lunch, the bar looked too inviting and I was a bit hungry. Ten minutes later I was discussing the relative merits of Maldon Rock v Bouzigues oysters and Muscadet v Picpoul de Pinet, sat in the comfortable surroundings of a top London bar, just me and the barman - I felt like a character in an old Hollywood movie. You don't get that level of sophistication outside of big cities and certainly not in Carcassonne and I couldn't have had that conversation either because the French dismiss anything non-French or even non-regional French as complete rubbish. I am very much looking forward to going back tomorrow with Debrah.

Debrah has been working with the National Gallery as a client for a while now and as a result of a corporate membership she has access to tickets for events - so it was that I was able to visit the fantastic Picasso exhibition in the Sainsbury Wing. It was wonderful. I then took a stroll through the rest of the gallery and marvelled at the fantastic collection of masterpieces, each instantly recognisable, that adorn the walls - all free and on the doorstep and taken for granted and ignored by most Londoners - I certainly did for all those years.

As I emerged onto Trafalgar Square, with Nelson's Column soaring up in front of me and Big Ben beyond at the end of Whitehall, I thought about what a fabulous city London is and how much it has to offer. I think my time away helps me to appreciate it so much more. I just need to work out how to make the most of the good and ignore the bad.

Tuesday 10 March 2009

Time for a change

I'm back in London and, more importantly, with Debrah. We have much to sort out and it's just very difficult to do it when we are sat in different countries.

Debrah has been offered a fantastic opportunity with the design agency that she has been working with for the past couple of years - an opportunity that is too good to turn down - so naturally she hasn't.

However, it means that she will have much less flexibility and, therefore, will not be able to fly out to France every weekend. It was too much for her to continue doing so anyway - so this is a natural extension of a process of change that was already in motion.

If we are to see each other at all then I need to spend a lot more time in the UK which means that we need to completely change the way that we run the business in France - it will have to be a lot less hands-on from my side, so that is what we are now putting in place for the foreseeable future.

I have already arranged for local friends and contacts to manage the suites when I'm not there over the course of these two weeks - if anyone wants to come at short notice - so things are already moving along.

It had to change anyway. We have been frustrated in our attempts to expand the business and it doesn't generate enough for the two of us as it stands - so we need to look at it another way and this has helped focus us on how we are going to do that.

Sunday 8 March 2009

Loose wire

Last weekend the plug sockets above the kitchen worktop just suddenly stopped working. I was making breakfast for the guests at the time and had just boiled some water in the kettle - no problem - and then turned the toaster on and there was no power. Very odd.

I finished the breakfasts by moving the toaster and kettle and juicer to other sockets, which was incredibly inconvenient, and then took the coverplates off the sockets to see if I could find the problem. It was a loose connection - or so I thought. I re-connected, put everything back together and it worked again. I was relieved that it hadn't been a bigger issue but concerned that it should happen at all.

Some of the original bits of wiring that we had done when we first started the renovation were put in by a French based English electrician. Three years on from that and it's clear that she wasn't very good - there have been nothing but problems with the electrics that she installed - from sockets not working to reversed / mixed up phases on the fusebox. Loose connections in old wood/lathe walls are not good news because they are a major fire risk.

So imagine my surprise and my despair when, yesterday morning as I was preparing a client breakfast, the same circuit stopped working again. It was indeed deja-vu - I had just boiled the kettle and then when I turned on the toaster - nothing - spooky.

I spent at least two hours yesterday trying to work out why it wasn't working - two hours when I didn't get to do the jobs that were planned - and then another hour today, before finally I had to resort to calling Chris and asking him to come and help me.

We eventually traced the problem - and that took another hour - and it wasn't good news. We had discovered that there was power coming from the fusebox but there was no power at the socket - there had to be a connector somewhere in-between. When we finally traced it to a junction box up near the ceiling of the utility room, we found a burnt out/melted connector that can only have been caused by a loose connection.

Once we cut it out and replaced it the circuit was restored, but the big concern was the danger that it posed and whether there are any other loose fittings lurking in the network of cables fitted by that useless electrician. The only solution is to go through each and every circuit and check every connection - which is going to be very tedious - but rather that than risk a fire.

On a very different and very sad note, I have to report that the one and only remaining cutting from last years geraniums has passed away. I did everything I knew to keep it going and in fact it had become a bit of a symbolic undertaking - I hope it isn't a bad omen that it's gone.

Thursday 5 March 2009

Not together

I took a couple of one night bookings last weekend. I don't usually do one night stays because it's just too much work for one person but in these straightened times you can't be choosy and I was here anyway with other clients - so these bookings just filled in the gaps.

There were a couple of firsts for 42rvh over the weekend. The group of Aussies that came on Sunday had three babies with them and then one of them managed to take the room key away with her when they left - so that will have to be posted back to me. Good job I have spares. As for the babies, they were no trouble at all.

Meanwhile, Debrah has a new commission to design a wedding for one of Anna's clients up at the chateau - so flew into Bergerac to spend the weekend with Anna working on the brief and I took the opportunity of no clients for two days to drive up and meet her at the airport and spend the night at the chateau with her - we haven't seen each other for two weeks and as ever that is two weeks too long.

Sadly, I could only stay one night because I have new clients arriving early tomorrow and the room still needed prepping - so I am now back in Carcassonne after my mad dash up and back in the most filthy driving conditions imaginable on both legs of the journey - pouring rain and near zero visibility at times - not helped by one of my windscreen wipers deciding this was a good time to start falling apart.

Actually it wasn't a great get-together because the big issue in our lives - namely spending too much time in different countries - is causing us both problems and we are taking it out on each other - which is just stupid but sometimes you can't help yourself and it just happens.

Thank heavens we will both be in London from the start of next week and we can spend some much needed time together.

Sunday 1 March 2009

Rugby weekend

The Celt was packed from end to end on both Friday night and last night for two very intense games of rugby being shown on the big screen.

On Friday we had France v Wales. The Irish in the bar were very much torn in their loyalties - being fellow Celts they were drawn towards supporting Wales but a French victory would be better for Ireland's chances in the tournament. There appeared to be no Welsh supporters but there was a large and raucous contingent of locals here in the heartland of French rugby.

Me. I was born within 100 yards of the Welsh border, just outside Chester (they were still yards, not metres, when I was born)- but crucially on the English side. I also lived in South Wales for a year or so as a 7 year old kid and learnt the Welsh National Anthem at school. Despite the Welsh being the best team by a mile back then, I was born in England and was always an England supporter - so naturally, on Friday night I was very much on the side of the home French fans.

I'm not anti-Welsh - it's just that a French victory was better for England's chances - and after all it is my adopted second home. It was close, but the French did their part of the equation by sneaking a win.

Now I thought there were more English people down here in the Languedoc, but it turns out that there a lot of British people, who are mostly Scottish, Welsh or Irish and not one of them, nor any self-respecting Frenchman, was going to support England for whatever historical reason.

So it was that there were four England fans and about 150 Irish / Irish sympathisers / anti-English fans to watch the Ireland v England game on Saturday evening. At least the Southern Hemisphere contingent, Chris and Lesa, sat on the fence.

A narrow defeat for the boys in white meant that most of the bar went home happy - and Patrick and Susan will be happy too as the Irish and all celebrated their win. Me, I sneaked off home for an early night, knowing I had an 8am breakfast to do.

Confidence

Thursday morning brought an end to the cooking part of the cooking week. We concentrated on fish and shellfish, a couple of simple salads and we finished off the week long French sourdough experiment.

The bread was good, much better than my last attempt, better texture and taste. We pan fried some red mullet fillets and served with tomato and black olive and finely chopped lettuce. We made classic French lunch salads of lardons and frisee and roquefort, pear and walnut. We sautéed some white fish fillets in noilly prat, lemon, cream and parsley and we finished off with a classic moules mariniere.

Gary used to eat mussels a lot when growing up in Holland but a bad experience had put him off and he hadn't touched them for years, but he said that watching and helping me with the whole process of making the dish - buying, washing, cleaning, sorting, discarding and finally cooking - gave him the confidence to try them again - which I thought was just brilliant and, by itself, made his whole cooking week worth while. As it is also one of his wife's favourite dishes, she should benefit too.

I've had an upset stomach for the past couple of days and I don't know if it was a mussel (probably not) or just an excess of rich food and drink this week (most likely) but I haven't mentioned it to Gary because I really don't want to discourage him now.

The final part of the week was one of VinEcole's excellent wine tastings. The weather at the end of the week was superb and we had the full benefit of a roof down motor out to Gayda, the majestic sweep of the snow-capped Pyrenees glistening in the sun before us and a good bit of fun and laughter and knowledge from an interesting mix of people at the tasting and the usual charm of our hosts, Matthew and Emma.

All in all, I think the week was a success and I hope Gary goes back to the UK armed with the confidence to try things out for himself.