I am very pleased to report that Katie from Domaine Gayda telephoned immediately upon receipt of my email and put my mind at rest about their policy re vegetarian food at the restaurant. They had offered to make a full vegetarian menu from whatever they had fresh that day in the kitchen, but it appears that, for one of my guests, a pasta dish was what she wanted and that they couldn't do on the day.
So she left, forcing my other guests to leave too because they were dependent on them for transport - they weren't really, I would have gone and collected them, but they felt obliged and probably a bit embarrassed - as were we all ultimately.
My lesson is always to check both sides of the story before jumping to any conclusions and I am very relieved that I can continue to happily rely on Domaine Gayda in the future to look after any of my guest's food requirements.
Meanwhile at 42rvh I had a full house of guests at the weekend and a fridge full of champagne. Sadly it wasn't mine - being a man with many fridges, I was just storing it for a friend's 40th birthday party on Saturday evening - so I had to give it back but I did get to drink some in the end.
Canal boat, pub, nightclub - guests who had arrived from all over Europe it seemed - and a lot of champagne. You can probably guess the rest. I was up bright and breezy for breakfasts but definitely jaded by mid-afternoon and still struggling for energy as I put together the guests dinner I was hosting on Sunday night. I'm not as young as I used to be.
And so to today and my next property viewing - not a pile of stones this time but a barn and a garage on a small piece of land that could make the perfect little retreat for two people. It has potential, I think, but needs a lot of questions answered first. At least it was located roughly where they said it was and for once there weren't a lot of unexpected "Oh, didn't I tell you about that" bits to take in.
Monday 28 September 2009
Thursday 24 September 2009
The truth, but not the whole truth
My third property visit of the week today - a collection of buildings ripe for renovation in a secluded location just outside Arques - apparently.
"I'll pick you up at midday and we'll view the property at one", said Michael. He arrived at 12.30pm and we met Nicole and Anna in Arques at 2.00pm and got to the property at 2.30pm.
In fact Michael and I got to Arques twenty five minutes before two and thought we might have a beer whilst we waited for the others. Alas, both bars in town were closed - at lunchtime in September - that's not a good sign is it? Three other cars pulled up outside one of the bars to see if it was open and were equally disappointed - all that lost business is a common factor in France but they just don't seem to care.
The half hour difference between the time checks above between Arques and the pile of stones that I had come to look at give you an indication of how 'just outside Arques' the property actually was. On and on up the mountain we went - past La Frau Basse and on up to La Frau Haute, which as it's name implies is high - about 600m high. Three kilometres said Anna but even allowing for the winding road it must have been at least double that, if not ten.
It was a charming and beautiful valley on a fabulous sunny Autumn day but it may be a bit more hostile in six months time in the depths of winter. At least it had the isolation that was promised - apart that is from the three other houses close by and the narrow entrance to the site that entailed squeezing the car past the neighbours front door on the left hand side and their washing line and vegetable garden on the right!!
It's frustrating but you just have to make the effort to look at these places to know if they are right and to work out in your mind if that is what you are really looking for.
Michael and Nicole decided not to come back to Carcassonne for supper with me so I had the roast chicken all to myself and delicious it was too - cooked with tarragon and lemon and garlic and eaten with a fresh tomato salad and a green salad. Yes of course I washed it all down with some wine.
In fact, despite the frustrations of the property viewing of the last few days and my constant nagging toothache, I was in a very good mood this evening. I roasted the chicken early and then left it covered under foil whilst I popped out to win a couple of games of boules with the boys down by the river as the sun set and the moon brightened. You couldn't really imagine a better location with the Cité as a backdrop and the dramatic sunset and a competitive but friendly sporting rivalry amongst friends. So, that would be two-nil to the English team then.
The one dampener on the day was that both my guest couples encountered disappointment with their lunch at Domaine Gayda. I had booked them on a wine tasting at VinEcole, which they all thoroughly enjoyed, and then lunch in the restaurant at the Domaine afterwards. It is a magnificent location with an unparalleled view of the Pyrenees on a day like today - but it's no good at all if they can't cater for vegetarians and it appears that they can't.
So my guests left without lunch and I feel terribly embarrassed about the whole thing because I didn't realise that Gayda was so backward in it's approach. I also feel a bit responsible because I have eaten there many times myself but just hadn't appreciated that it would be a problem for some of my guests.
I will write to them - in this day and age that attitude is just not acceptable. Probably 10% of my guests are vegetarian and I have no problem cooking for them here at 42rvh and no problem sending them out to 'enlightened' restaurants in Carcassonne. I am a little bit shocked that Gayda could not not provide for them.
But then, nothing is as it appears to be, is it?
"I'll pick you up at midday and we'll view the property at one", said Michael. He arrived at 12.30pm and we met Nicole and Anna in Arques at 2.00pm and got to the property at 2.30pm.
In fact Michael and I got to Arques twenty five minutes before two and thought we might have a beer whilst we waited for the others. Alas, both bars in town were closed - at lunchtime in September - that's not a good sign is it? Three other cars pulled up outside one of the bars to see if it was open and were equally disappointed - all that lost business is a common factor in France but they just don't seem to care.
The half hour difference between the time checks above between Arques and the pile of stones that I had come to look at give you an indication of how 'just outside Arques' the property actually was. On and on up the mountain we went - past La Frau Basse and on up to La Frau Haute, which as it's name implies is high - about 600m high. Three kilometres said Anna but even allowing for the winding road it must have been at least double that, if not ten.
It was a charming and beautiful valley on a fabulous sunny Autumn day but it may be a bit more hostile in six months time in the depths of winter. At least it had the isolation that was promised - apart that is from the three other houses close by and the narrow entrance to the site that entailed squeezing the car past the neighbours front door on the left hand side and their washing line and vegetable garden on the right!!
It's frustrating but you just have to make the effort to look at these places to know if they are right and to work out in your mind if that is what you are really looking for.
Michael and Nicole decided not to come back to Carcassonne for supper with me so I had the roast chicken all to myself and delicious it was too - cooked with tarragon and lemon and garlic and eaten with a fresh tomato salad and a green salad. Yes of course I washed it all down with some wine.
In fact, despite the frustrations of the property viewing of the last few days and my constant nagging toothache, I was in a very good mood this evening. I roasted the chicken early and then left it covered under foil whilst I popped out to win a couple of games of boules with the boys down by the river as the sun set and the moon brightened. You couldn't really imagine a better location with the Cité as a backdrop and the dramatic sunset and a competitive but friendly sporting rivalry amongst friends. So, that would be two-nil to the English team then.
The one dampener on the day was that both my guest couples encountered disappointment with their lunch at Domaine Gayda. I had booked them on a wine tasting at VinEcole, which they all thoroughly enjoyed, and then lunch in the restaurant at the Domaine afterwards. It is a magnificent location with an unparalleled view of the Pyrenees on a day like today - but it's no good at all if they can't cater for vegetarians and it appears that they can't.
So my guests left without lunch and I feel terribly embarrassed about the whole thing because I didn't realise that Gayda was so backward in it's approach. I also feel a bit responsible because I have eaten there many times myself but just hadn't appreciated that it would be a problem for some of my guests.
I will write to them - in this day and age that attitude is just not acceptable. Probably 10% of my guests are vegetarian and I have no problem cooking for them here at 42rvh and no problem sending them out to 'enlightened' restaurants in Carcassonne. I am a little bit shocked that Gayda could not not provide for them.
But then, nothing is as it appears to be, is it?
Wednesday 23 September 2009
Not what it says on the tin
The details on the website indicated that the property was 30 minutes drive from Carcassonne. I drove back down the mountain like Sebastian Loeb at his best (the French 5 times world rally champion for those of you struggling with that name) and it still took me an hour and a quarter to get back here.
What is it with estate agents and completely misleading information? Earlier this week was the "Oh no it doesn't flood" blatant lie and today I find that time is indeed relative to your rally ability and the slowness of the second hand on a dodgy Turkish Rolex copy. My watch might be having difficulty keeping up with real time but it's nothing compared to the time estimates of 'agents immobilliers'. Doctor Who couldn't have got back any quicker.
As you will have guessed, I went to look at another property today. It's not right for us but it is in a stunning location if you are not expecting guests. It was three miles to the end of the drive - i.e three miles from the turn off from the side road that was ten miles from the nearest village and fifteen miles from the nearest boulangerie. I would have hated to get home and find I had forgotten to collect the baguettes on the way.
I am quite used to the country roads here and my driving style could be described as fast if you are faint-hearted (if you can, imagine playing V-Rally on Playstation). Besides it was a glorious sunny day and the wind was in my hair and I had guests arriving back at 42rvh - so I had to get back. I think the average punter in a Opel Zafira hire car stuffed full of luggage might be a bit more circumspect - it would probably take them two hours from Carcassonne airport.
So - too far, too remote, too isolated, too much work needed - fantastic place though if you had the money and weren't bothered about guests and running businesses. It's an 18th Century farmhouse in gorgeous ochre stone that sits right on the top of a mountain with the most spectacular views in every direction. It has structurally sound walls and has had a new roof put on it, but because it's as old as it is and has never been updated very much it still looks like the animals live inside in better conditions than the humans. The whole interior needs completely ripping out and replacing - a massive job for anyone.
Because of it's age it is also protected by 'Monuments Historique', which means that one couldn't put new doors or windows into it or extend it. The problem with that is that every door is built for someone five feet tall and all the windows are very small too so that natural light, even on a glorious Autumn day like today, is at a premium.
I stood there and watched the butterflies zig-zagging about, marvelled at the eagles soaring overhead, listened to the cowbells from across the valley and tried to picture the pool and the garden and the terrace. I was constantly swishing the flies away (despite the 800m altitude this was still farmland) and have a multitude of nettle stings on my ankles from the overgrowth around the house.
As always one has to weigh up the good and the bad, the positive and the negative. Nowhere will be perfect but it has to have a lot more going for it than against it and sadly this place falls into the latter category.
We will keep looking of course and I am off to see somewhere else tomorrow. As long as the agent hasn't been misleading anyone it should be perfect - I will reserve judgement on that though for 24 hours in light of recent experience.
What is it with estate agents and completely misleading information? Earlier this week was the "Oh no it doesn't flood" blatant lie and today I find that time is indeed relative to your rally ability and the slowness of the second hand on a dodgy Turkish Rolex copy. My watch might be having difficulty keeping up with real time but it's nothing compared to the time estimates of 'agents immobilliers'. Doctor Who couldn't have got back any quicker.
As you will have guessed, I went to look at another property today. It's not right for us but it is in a stunning location if you are not expecting guests. It was three miles to the end of the drive - i.e three miles from the turn off from the side road that was ten miles from the nearest village and fifteen miles from the nearest boulangerie. I would have hated to get home and find I had forgotten to collect the baguettes on the way.
I am quite used to the country roads here and my driving style could be described as fast if you are faint-hearted (if you can, imagine playing V-Rally on Playstation). Besides it was a glorious sunny day and the wind was in my hair and I had guests arriving back at 42rvh - so I had to get back. I think the average punter in a Opel Zafira hire car stuffed full of luggage might be a bit more circumspect - it would probably take them two hours from Carcassonne airport.
So - too far, too remote, too isolated, too much work needed - fantastic place though if you had the money and weren't bothered about guests and running businesses. It's an 18th Century farmhouse in gorgeous ochre stone that sits right on the top of a mountain with the most spectacular views in every direction. It has structurally sound walls and has had a new roof put on it, but because it's as old as it is and has never been updated very much it still looks like the animals live inside in better conditions than the humans. The whole interior needs completely ripping out and replacing - a massive job for anyone.
Because of it's age it is also protected by 'Monuments Historique', which means that one couldn't put new doors or windows into it or extend it. The problem with that is that every door is built for someone five feet tall and all the windows are very small too so that natural light, even on a glorious Autumn day like today, is at a premium.
I stood there and watched the butterflies zig-zagging about, marvelled at the eagles soaring overhead, listened to the cowbells from across the valley and tried to picture the pool and the garden and the terrace. I was constantly swishing the flies away (despite the 800m altitude this was still farmland) and have a multitude of nettle stings on my ankles from the overgrowth around the house.
As always one has to weigh up the good and the bad, the positive and the negative. Nowhere will be perfect but it has to have a lot more going for it than against it and sadly this place falls into the latter category.
We will keep looking of course and I am off to see somewhere else tomorrow. As long as the agent hasn't been misleading anyone it should be perfect - I will reserve judgement on that though for 24 hours in light of recent experience.
Tuesday 22 September 2009
Day out
I went back to have another look at the watermill today. I think it's very interesting but it's probably a bit small and the aspect not quite right (best side of the building is north facing).
I am also a bit obsessed with the proximity to watercourses given the change in climate patterns and the increase in occurences of flash flooding over the last ten years. A river frontage is fabulous but not when it's in your living room.
When I last visited I asked the agent about the big flood here in 1999 and he said that it didn't reach the house. After he had gone I wandered up to the Mairie and asked and was given a similar answer. So that's alright then.
After an overcast start it turned into a glorious day here today. After breakfasts and an airport drop-off I drove out to Lagrasse to meet Michael and Nicole for some lunch. As I set off the sun was just beginning to break through the clouds and mist and it was extremely beautiful in a moody misty autumnal way as I motored down the valley.
I really like this time of the year here in the Languedoc. The weather is mostly dry, the days are warm without the mad heat of mid-summer, the wine harvest is in full flow making more lovely stuff to drink next year and the colours and the countryside look magnificent.
Michael had a bit of a hangover and they were running a bit behind schedule - so lunch wasn't yet ready. I suggested we go off to look at the mill again first and then come back. I was also taken by them to meet an English lady, Anna, who has lived in the region a long time, runs a property sale website and knows pretty much everything that is going on with sales and purchases. She has given us another option to look at and also mentioned in passing "You know that the watermill had floodwater up to the first floor in 1999". Oh really - how very interesting!
By the time we got back to Lagrasse there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We ate lunch on the terrace and made plans for the week ahead before I headed back to Carcassonne to check on my guests - they were of course just knackered from spending all day up at the Cité being tourists.
So the watermill has probably been ruled out but I have two other options to look at, and photograph and measure, before I head back to the UK for a few days next week.
I am also a bit obsessed with the proximity to watercourses given the change in climate patterns and the increase in occurences of flash flooding over the last ten years. A river frontage is fabulous but not when it's in your living room.
When I last visited I asked the agent about the big flood here in 1999 and he said that it didn't reach the house. After he had gone I wandered up to the Mairie and asked and was given a similar answer. So that's alright then.
After an overcast start it turned into a glorious day here today. After breakfasts and an airport drop-off I drove out to Lagrasse to meet Michael and Nicole for some lunch. As I set off the sun was just beginning to break through the clouds and mist and it was extremely beautiful in a moody misty autumnal way as I motored down the valley.
I really like this time of the year here in the Languedoc. The weather is mostly dry, the days are warm without the mad heat of mid-summer, the wine harvest is in full flow making more lovely stuff to drink next year and the colours and the countryside look magnificent.
Michael had a bit of a hangover and they were running a bit behind schedule - so lunch wasn't yet ready. I suggested we go off to look at the mill again first and then come back. I was also taken by them to meet an English lady, Anna, who has lived in the region a long time, runs a property sale website and knows pretty much everything that is going on with sales and purchases. She has given us another option to look at and also mentioned in passing "You know that the watermill had floodwater up to the first floor in 1999". Oh really - how very interesting!
By the time we got back to Lagrasse there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We ate lunch on the terrace and made plans for the week ahead before I headed back to Carcassonne to check on my guests - they were of course just knackered from spending all day up at the Cité being tourists.
So the watermill has probably been ruled out but I have two other options to look at, and photograph and measure, before I head back to the UK for a few days next week.
Monday 21 September 2009
Easy day
I had the luxury this morning of sleeping until 8.00am - that's the latest my alarm has been set for a very long time - and after the busy weekend it was a much needed and welcome lie-in.
Just one set of guests for breakfast and they were being pleasingly laid back and lazy and wanted a late breakfast - excellent.
There was still a suite to make up and new guests to collect off the Dublin flight which arrived just after lunch but all in all that was relatively calm compared to the last few days. There is always laundry to do, but it will get done, bit by bit and all in good time.
All of which allowed me to get out on my bike for the first time since last Friday and to have a quiet evening on my own, which could only have been made better by Debrah being here too. Soon.
The only thing that has upset the welcome change of pace is the ever increasing level of pain coming from my teeth - it's not the one that I had half sorted the last time I was in London but the filling with a hole in it, which has been getting worse and worse on a daily basis.
At first it was just cold water that produced the instant excruciating pain as it flowed through the hole and onto the nerve - now it is any drink and all food and even air flowing through it, especially when I am gasping up a steep climb on my bike, which is especially cruel as I am already in agony and suffering.
I have an appointment to have it fixed the day after I get back to London - just nine more days of gritting my teeth and waiting for the pain to pass.
Just one set of guests for breakfast and they were being pleasingly laid back and lazy and wanted a late breakfast - excellent.
There was still a suite to make up and new guests to collect off the Dublin flight which arrived just after lunch but all in all that was relatively calm compared to the last few days. There is always laundry to do, but it will get done, bit by bit and all in good time.
All of which allowed me to get out on my bike for the first time since last Friday and to have a quiet evening on my own, which could only have been made better by Debrah being here too. Soon.
The only thing that has upset the welcome change of pace is the ever increasing level of pain coming from my teeth - it's not the one that I had half sorted the last time I was in London but the filling with a hole in it, which has been getting worse and worse on a daily basis.
At first it was just cold water that produced the instant excruciating pain as it flowed through the hole and onto the nerve - now it is any drink and all food and even air flowing through it, especially when I am gasping up a steep climb on my bike, which is especially cruel as I am already in agony and suffering.
I have an appointment to have it fixed the day after I get back to London - just nine more days of gritting my teeth and waiting for the pain to pass.
Sunday 20 September 2009
Square one
I have been totally rubbish at blog writing this week. I have thought about it often but have found little inspiration - and as the week went on I became busier with guests and consequently more tired and even less inspired - as this thoroughly uninspiring opening paragraph demonstrates.
I have just finished a client dinner which is the fifth night in a row that I have had client duties to attend to - drinks and canapes on Wednesday and Thursday, dinner for seven on Friday, canapes again last night and then another dinner this evening. At the other end of the day there were three breakfasts to be put together each morning. I have had a full house here this week.
The multinational and British regional theme has also continued after the Americans of last weekend. A British couple courtesy of Nigeria at the start of the week, followed by Canadians, some gritty northerners from Cumbria, some posh southerners from East Anglia and finally a Scouse/Yorkshire mix - plus a booking from Mexico and one from Germany - both firsts for 42rvh.
Their backgrounds are also many and varied including diplomats, oil lawyers, builders, art historians and interior designers. So it is always fascinating to throw them all round the dinner table and see how they get on. The result is that people just do get on - they find some common ground (even if it's just that they are visiting Carcassonne or drinking wine or sitting at my table) and the conversation flows - sometimes on and on.
Friday night was a case in point - seven people around the table and they all got on splendidly which, of course, meant that they got on splendidly until the early hours of the following morning. I managed four and a half hours sleep between clearing up and starting breakfasts.
Maybe my exercise regime of the last six months helps me to deal with it all better. Last week I totalled 97kms on my bike which is new high - if only I had stayed out for another three!
I also went to look at a house out in the countryside this week, as Debrah and I continue to wrestle with finding the best solution for our 'living in different countries' scenario. It is a very old watermill in need of total renovation. It feels quite daunting to think about going back to square one again but is equally quite exciting. It's even more exciting because we would be working on it together. We aren't sure if it's right yet and Debrah hasn't seen it in the flesh but you never know. Watch this space.
I have just finished a client dinner which is the fifth night in a row that I have had client duties to attend to - drinks and canapes on Wednesday and Thursday, dinner for seven on Friday, canapes again last night and then another dinner this evening. At the other end of the day there were three breakfasts to be put together each morning. I have had a full house here this week.
The multinational and British regional theme has also continued after the Americans of last weekend. A British couple courtesy of Nigeria at the start of the week, followed by Canadians, some gritty northerners from Cumbria, some posh southerners from East Anglia and finally a Scouse/Yorkshire mix - plus a booking from Mexico and one from Germany - both firsts for 42rvh.
Their backgrounds are also many and varied including diplomats, oil lawyers, builders, art historians and interior designers. So it is always fascinating to throw them all round the dinner table and see how they get on. The result is that people just do get on - they find some common ground (even if it's just that they are visiting Carcassonne or drinking wine or sitting at my table) and the conversation flows - sometimes on and on.
Friday night was a case in point - seven people around the table and they all got on splendidly which, of course, meant that they got on splendidly until the early hours of the following morning. I managed four and a half hours sleep between clearing up and starting breakfasts.
Maybe my exercise regime of the last six months helps me to deal with it all better. Last week I totalled 97kms on my bike which is new high - if only I had stayed out for another three!
I also went to look at a house out in the countryside this week, as Debrah and I continue to wrestle with finding the best solution for our 'living in different countries' scenario. It is a very old watermill in need of total renovation. It feels quite daunting to think about going back to square one again but is equally quite exciting. It's even more exciting because we would be working on it together. We aren't sure if it's right yet and Debrah hasn't seen it in the flesh but you never know. Watch this space.
Monday 14 September 2009
Not a night out
Dinner last night was followed by breakfast for early departing guests at 7.15am - so not very much sleep between the two. Despite that I felt pretty good this morning and had the Apartment suite ready by 9.00am for new guests arriving this afternoon.
They arrived two hours earlier than expected so it was a good thing that I was also ready in advance. Having started the day so enthusiastically though, I have become slower and slower as the day has gone on - the short night has taken it's toll.
Don't get me wrong, I could easily have been persuaded to move onto a second late night and early morning in a a row and but for the necessity of looking after dogs and preparing guest breakfasts it probably would have happened.
Michael came over from Lagrasse this afternoon to look at a property here in Carcassonne and dropped in to say hello afterwards. With Debrah back in London and his partner, Nicole, over there for a short visit (in fact Debrah and Nicole were out together on Saturday evening in London) we had the perfect opportunity for a bit of lads night out if only we weren't so grown up and responsible these days.
Michael couldn't stay here in Carcassonne with me because his two dogs back in Lagrasse needed to be let out and looked after. I couldn't stay overnight in Lagrasse because I have to provide breakfast for my clients here at 42rvh.
So we briefly flirted with the Celt Bar and came back here to eat spaghetti bolognese and then Michael headed off back home and I am heading off to bed, very soon.
They arrived two hours earlier than expected so it was a good thing that I was also ready in advance. Having started the day so enthusiastically though, I have become slower and slower as the day has gone on - the short night has taken it's toll.
Don't get me wrong, I could easily have been persuaded to move onto a second late night and early morning in a a row and but for the necessity of looking after dogs and preparing guest breakfasts it probably would have happened.
Michael came over from Lagrasse this afternoon to look at a property here in Carcassonne and dropped in to say hello afterwards. With Debrah back in London and his partner, Nicole, over there for a short visit (in fact Debrah and Nicole were out together on Saturday evening in London) we had the perfect opportunity for a bit of lads night out if only we weren't so grown up and responsible these days.
Michael couldn't stay here in Carcassonne with me because his two dogs back in Lagrasse needed to be let out and looked after. I couldn't stay overnight in Lagrasse because I have to provide breakfast for my clients here at 42rvh.
So we briefly flirted with the Celt Bar and came back here to eat spaghetti bolognese and then Michael headed off back home and I am heading off to bed, very soon.
Sunday 13 September 2009
Summer's end - not yet
There has been quite an international flavour to the weekend guest list. At the end of the week I had an English couple, an Australian couple and a mother and daughter from California. They were followed by two couples travelling together from Minnesota. On Friday evening it was the six Americans here - which is a first for 42rvh.
In common with most of my previous American visitors, they were very enthusiastic, very inquisitive and very charming and appreciative. In my view an American with a passport has to be a good American - because they realise that there is life beyond the borders of the USA. I hope the dollar economy behaves itself enough for more of them to keep coming.
I know it's not yet Autumn but the seasonal produce is starting to reflect the change towards the new season. The market has pumpkin and pears and plums and muscat grapes and the first mushrooms. The peaches are still good but the melons are beginning to taste past their best.
So this evening's dinner reflected the change. The Summer melon salad was replaced by pumpkin soup, the tarragon chicken by duck confit and the roast peaches by the old favourite of all guests, hot chocolate fondant. I am already looking forward to casseroles and soups and crumbles.
But I don't want to wish away the Summer too quickly and the weather here continues to be fabulous - in fact better than it was a month ago because the temperature is more bearable in the high twenties rather than the mid thirties but with the same unbroken blue skies. It really has been the most fantastic week.
And with chocolate fondant re-appearing the danger is that my waistline will start expanding again so I need to make the most of this good weather and pound the roads on my bike. I have cycled 80kms this week before today and managed another 37kms today.
One of the side effects of my cycling exercise regime is that I no longer take the Audi out and the weather has been absolutely perfect for it. On days like these I like nothing better than a long drive with Debrah through the French countryside or down to the coast at Gruissan or Bages or Bouzigues or Collioure.
Well Debrah is in London at the moment so I better carry on pounding the pedals and hopefully pounding the pounds as well.
In common with most of my previous American visitors, they were very enthusiastic, very inquisitive and very charming and appreciative. In my view an American with a passport has to be a good American - because they realise that there is life beyond the borders of the USA. I hope the dollar economy behaves itself enough for more of them to keep coming.
I know it's not yet Autumn but the seasonal produce is starting to reflect the change towards the new season. The market has pumpkin and pears and plums and muscat grapes and the first mushrooms. The peaches are still good but the melons are beginning to taste past their best.
So this evening's dinner reflected the change. The Summer melon salad was replaced by pumpkin soup, the tarragon chicken by duck confit and the roast peaches by the old favourite of all guests, hot chocolate fondant. I am already looking forward to casseroles and soups and crumbles.
But I don't want to wish away the Summer too quickly and the weather here continues to be fabulous - in fact better than it was a month ago because the temperature is more bearable in the high twenties rather than the mid thirties but with the same unbroken blue skies. It really has been the most fantastic week.
And with chocolate fondant re-appearing the danger is that my waistline will start expanding again so I need to make the most of this good weather and pound the roads on my bike. I have cycled 80kms this week before today and managed another 37kms today.
One of the side effects of my cycling exercise regime is that I no longer take the Audi out and the weather has been absolutely perfect for it. On days like these I like nothing better than a long drive with Debrah through the French countryside or down to the coast at Gruissan or Bages or Bouzigues or Collioure.
Well Debrah is in London at the moment so I better carry on pounding the pedals and hopefully pounding the pounds as well.
Wednesday 9 September 2009
Lies and more lies
Whilst I was labouring under the weight of my home made cassoulet last night it was all kicking off amongst the Irish community in Carcassonne. I am slightly sad that I missed it from a voyeuristic point of view but really it's the last thing I would want to be involved with.
A quite blatant and obvious wide boy called Steve has been giving it large all year here. He gave the impression that he owned a lot of property and was a big wheeler dealer and could get things done. He tried to persuade Patrick and me to join him by investing.
It was blather - it was obviously blather - but inevitably some people were taken in by it and ended up defending him against the accusations - and now that the truth is out and it has been shown to be a complete tissue of lies and fabrication, the fallout has begun.
He claimed that he owned the four bedroom property with pool that he lived in - but he was in fact just looking after it for the owner, who was also his employer. He claimed that he was a builder extraordinaire with a property portfolio - all nonsense - he owns nothing and has no money and now has nowhere to live as his employer has cottoned onto what he has been up to.
As he backed himself further into a corner he referred to Cathy as his old and senile secretary and laid the blame at her door as his web of lies began to unravel. Cathy is neither old nor senile and has never been his secretary and naturally this rankled somewhat.
Last night it appears that Cathy confronted Steve and told him what she thought, tipped his pint over his head and then got thumped by him for her audacity. Way to go girl but that looks like it hurt a bit. Thankfully the damage isn't too serious.
All of which backs up a decision I made six months ago to distance myself from the pub/late night culture that was becoming ever more prevalent amongst a certain number of the expatriate community here.
A stomach filling cassoulet was definitely the better option - although I would have loved to have seen the baptism.
A quite blatant and obvious wide boy called Steve has been giving it large all year here. He gave the impression that he owned a lot of property and was a big wheeler dealer and could get things done. He tried to persuade Patrick and me to join him by investing.
It was blather - it was obviously blather - but inevitably some people were taken in by it and ended up defending him against the accusations - and now that the truth is out and it has been shown to be a complete tissue of lies and fabrication, the fallout has begun.
He claimed that he owned the four bedroom property with pool that he lived in - but he was in fact just looking after it for the owner, who was also his employer. He claimed that he was a builder extraordinaire with a property portfolio - all nonsense - he owns nothing and has no money and now has nowhere to live as his employer has cottoned onto what he has been up to.
As he backed himself further into a corner he referred to Cathy as his old and senile secretary and laid the blame at her door as his web of lies began to unravel. Cathy is neither old nor senile and has never been his secretary and naturally this rankled somewhat.
Last night it appears that Cathy confronted Steve and told him what she thought, tipped his pint over his head and then got thumped by him for her audacity. Way to go girl but that looks like it hurt a bit. Thankfully the damage isn't too serious.
All of which backs up a decision I made six months ago to distance myself from the pub/late night culture that was becoming ever more prevalent amongst a certain number of the expatriate community here.
A stomach filling cassoulet was definitely the better option - although I would have loved to have seen the baptism.
Tuesday 8 September 2009
Too Much
After three successive weekends of rich food and good wine (my 50th, my mum's 80th and a gate crashed wedding) I thought it would be a good idea to get back to some simpler and healthier food and a bit more exercise.
As I sit here with my stomach full of a cassoulet type supper, I am feeling as if I have a lead weight in my stomach and realise that it's all gone a bit wrong. It just seemed the natural thing to do with the left over chicken and the jar of haricots blancs but now I just want to lie down.
To add to my misery I have a chronic toothache and a self-inflicted burn across the palm of my right hand. The burn is all my own stupid fault - completely forgetting what I was doing by picking up the pan of cassoulet that had been in the oven for the last 45 minutes. Idiot. The toothache is an ongoing problem that was half solved when I was last in the UK and needs further attention when I next get back - in the meantime effervescent codeine/paracetemol big tablets are my best friend.
I have at least booked my next visit to the UK and got an absolute bargain price for the flights. It doesn't happen very often but when the prices and the dates come together it's an absolute joy - so €23 to get to London including a bag in the hold and £13 to get back again - those are the cheapest set of return flights I have ever booked and what makes them even better is that they get Debrah and me together again. Joy indeed.
After the wedding on Saturday, Debrah flew back to London and I returned to Carcassonne to cook dinner for my poor neglected guests. It was all a bit of rush but dinner courtesy of the Chateau Rigaud vegetable garden and fridge was on the table at the appointed hour - 'merci' Anna and Aib.
The wedding weekend was a lot of hard work and a lot of fun too. It was a chance to see Debrah that I couldn't pass up and somehow I felt like an integral part of the wedding planning having listened to the cursing over the months as deadlines were missed and changes were made. The least I could do was help Debrah bring it all to the reality that she had envisaged.
The weather on the day itself was glorious, having been changeable all week, the bride looked lovely, the service was emotional and beautiful (Debrah cried as we looked on from a distance), the chairs were all moved one more time (from lawn to barn for the wedding dinner), the speeches were predictable, the band were excellent and the bar was free (as in paid for by the client) as we joined in the late night celebrations with a few vodka shots.
In Debrah's case too many vodka shots - she was not a happy bunny on Sunday morning. Reflecting my newly found sensibleness (everything's relative) at some point during the evening I decided I had had enough and just put myself to bed - even though there was a full blown party going on - crazy.
If only I had been as sensible with the cassoulet - I really must go and lie down.
As I sit here with my stomach full of a cassoulet type supper, I am feeling as if I have a lead weight in my stomach and realise that it's all gone a bit wrong. It just seemed the natural thing to do with the left over chicken and the jar of haricots blancs but now I just want to lie down.
To add to my misery I have a chronic toothache and a self-inflicted burn across the palm of my right hand. The burn is all my own stupid fault - completely forgetting what I was doing by picking up the pan of cassoulet that had been in the oven for the last 45 minutes. Idiot. The toothache is an ongoing problem that was half solved when I was last in the UK and needs further attention when I next get back - in the meantime effervescent codeine/paracetemol big tablets are my best friend.
I have at least booked my next visit to the UK and got an absolute bargain price for the flights. It doesn't happen very often but when the prices and the dates come together it's an absolute joy - so €23 to get to London including a bag in the hold and £13 to get back again - those are the cheapest set of return flights I have ever booked and what makes them even better is that they get Debrah and me together again. Joy indeed.
After the wedding on Saturday, Debrah flew back to London and I returned to Carcassonne to cook dinner for my poor neglected guests. It was all a bit of rush but dinner courtesy of the Chateau Rigaud vegetable garden and fridge was on the table at the appointed hour - 'merci' Anna and Aib.
The wedding weekend was a lot of hard work and a lot of fun too. It was a chance to see Debrah that I couldn't pass up and somehow I felt like an integral part of the wedding planning having listened to the cursing over the months as deadlines were missed and changes were made. The least I could do was help Debrah bring it all to the reality that she had envisaged.
The weather on the day itself was glorious, having been changeable all week, the bride looked lovely, the service was emotional and beautiful (Debrah cried as we looked on from a distance), the chairs were all moved one more time (from lawn to barn for the wedding dinner), the speeches were predictable, the band were excellent and the bar was free (as in paid for by the client) as we joined in the late night celebrations with a few vodka shots.
In Debrah's case too many vodka shots - she was not a happy bunny on Sunday morning. Reflecting my newly found sensibleness (everything's relative) at some point during the evening I decided I had had enough and just put myself to bed - even though there was a full blown party going on - crazy.
If only I had been as sensible with the cassoulet - I really must go and lie down.
Friday 4 September 2009
Arts and Crafts
My life has suddenly all gone a bit arts and crafts.
Debrah has been designing a wedding for a few months now - a wedding taking place at Chateau Rigaud - a business society wedding, someone high up in one well known business is marrying someone very high up in another well known business. I don't know why I am being so cagey about them or who they work for because they are probably the sort of people that would be very happy with the publicity, but out of respect for Anna and Aib and their business here at the chateau I will say no more.
And as Debrah had to come out to France to oversee the final design arrangements ahead of the big day tomorrow, it was another opportunity for us to get together. So I left my guests in Carcassonne to their own devices and hot footed it up here to help out and see my wife.
Last week when I was in London I found myself ordering ribbon and organising it's delivery to France. Today I got to play with the ribbon - wrapping it around boxes of chocolate and then around little lavender posies. I helped hang paper lanterns and moved boxes of wine and then we all had to thread 650 chrysanthemum flowers on fishing wire to be hung up tomorrow - the fun isn't over yet that's for sure.
Debrah has been designing a wedding for a few months now - a wedding taking place at Chateau Rigaud - a business society wedding, someone high up in one well known business is marrying someone very high up in another well known business. I don't know why I am being so cagey about them or who they work for because they are probably the sort of people that would be very happy with the publicity, but out of respect for Anna and Aib and their business here at the chateau I will say no more.
And as Debrah had to come out to France to oversee the final design arrangements ahead of the big day tomorrow, it was another opportunity for us to get together. So I left my guests in Carcassonne to their own devices and hot footed it up here to help out and see my wife.
Last week when I was in London I found myself ordering ribbon and organising it's delivery to France. Today I got to play with the ribbon - wrapping it around boxes of chocolate and then around little lavender posies. I helped hang paper lanterns and moved boxes of wine and then we all had to thread 650 chrysanthemum flowers on fishing wire to be hung up tomorrow - the fun isn't over yet that's for sure.
Tuesday 1 September 2009
Getting back to work
I arrived back in France today to grey skies and, now, torrential rain - not seen in these parts for a goodly number of weeks. In fact I am told that the weather has been good here until today - sorry everyone.
It has been a quite intense couple of weeks of celebrations and nearly two weeks since I had paying guests here. I have to admit that it feels like even longer and it took me a little while this afternoon to get my head back into gear. I have new guests arriving tomorrow and their room is now sorted and ready.
There were guests in the suites whilst I was in the UK, staying on a self-catering basis. Claire did a great job of looking after them and has even done all the washing from the midweek changeovers - not the ironing though - that jolly job awaits me tomorrow.
My mother's 80th birthday weekend went as well as a family get-together can go and was a lot better than some we have had in the past. Everyone was very relaxed, apart from my Mum, and there were relatives present that I haven't seen for at least 10 years. Naturally everyone was looking a lot older or had in fact just grown up from being a child and turned into a young adult.
Before all that kicked off on Saturday, we managed to celebrate Debrah's birthday. We stayed at West Stoke House near Chichester and had a great dinner with lots of good wines. It is a restaurant with rooms so the food and wine is excellent - but the rooms are lovely too. I would describe the atmosphere as calm Englishness and highly recommend it.
The proprietor used to work at BBH, the very same advertising agency that I once worked for. Our paths never crossed then but they have now. Bizarrely, the owners weren't there last weekend - they were staying with another ex-BBHer in Provence. Roslyn runs a similar business to this at Le Paradis near Orange. She is one of our best friends. Small world indeed.
It has been a quite intense couple of weeks of celebrations and nearly two weeks since I had paying guests here. I have to admit that it feels like even longer and it took me a little while this afternoon to get my head back into gear. I have new guests arriving tomorrow and their room is now sorted and ready.
There were guests in the suites whilst I was in the UK, staying on a self-catering basis. Claire did a great job of looking after them and has even done all the washing from the midweek changeovers - not the ironing though - that jolly job awaits me tomorrow.
My mother's 80th birthday weekend went as well as a family get-together can go and was a lot better than some we have had in the past. Everyone was very relaxed, apart from my Mum, and there were relatives present that I haven't seen for at least 10 years. Naturally everyone was looking a lot older or had in fact just grown up from being a child and turned into a young adult.
Before all that kicked off on Saturday, we managed to celebrate Debrah's birthday. We stayed at West Stoke House near Chichester and had a great dinner with lots of good wines. It is a restaurant with rooms so the food and wine is excellent - but the rooms are lovely too. I would describe the atmosphere as calm Englishness and highly recommend it.
The proprietor used to work at BBH, the very same advertising agency that I once worked for. Our paths never crossed then but they have now. Bizarrely, the owners weren't there last weekend - they were staying with another ex-BBHer in Provence. Roslyn runs a similar business to this at Le Paradis near Orange. She is one of our best friends. Small world indeed.
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