It has been a very frustrating week. On Tuesday evening I lost my internet connection and it took me until mid-morning today to get it working again - and even now it is not back up to full operation as my guests couldn't get access. It is extremely embarrassing to say the least that my guests have to visit the local internet cafe.
In the last two days I have spent a total of three hours on the telephone to France Telecom. Although much much better than it was, my French still let's me down and none more so than when I am on the telephone. Mind you, I wasn't helped by helpline assistants who listen to me asking them to speak slowly and then charge off again at 200mph. Our inability to communicate with each other would have made a fantastic TV sketch - at one point she asked me to unplug the modem and I unplugged the whole telephone system and cut us off - thankfully she realised what a berk I was and called me back. I think we tested each others patience to the limit but I am very grateful that she persevered with me and that eventually I understood what she was telling me do and now I am back online.
The music festival has come to a close for another year. On Monday evening we had a pretty good jazz band, who rushed off stage at the slightest hint of a drop of rain, which was a shame because it didn't actually rain and it broke up the rythym of the concert and pissed off the crowd no end. They were from New York, so were probably concerned about health and safety, but this is France, where gas engineers turn up with a fag on the go!
On Tuesday we had the Belgian equivalent of Robert Plant - I'll leave it at that and let you use your imagination, but suffice to say he had definitely smoked too many Marlboro Reds in his life and those leather trousers were just a tad too tight.
There was a very good dinner with my guests last night, when I was able to forget about my internet problems for a few hours. Sometimes the mix of people around the table just clicks and works very well and last night was one of those. We had a BA pilot and a marketing manager and a town planner and a teacher - and all were very entertaining. It didn't stop me spending all night typing my password into my computer in my fitful sleep in the hope that a magic connection would be made.
It wasn't, but I'm back now
Thursday, 31 July 2008
Sunday, 27 July 2008
All by myself again
It being a Sunday, us Brits turn our minds to those jobs that you don't get time to do during the week when you are at the office - well, that doesn't really apply to me as home is office and vice versa, but still it was a satisfactory chores day.
I didn't wash the car, but I did cut the hedge - the one in the courtyard at the end of the arch where we park the car. As part of our new found power over the fate of the house - because we now manage it ourselves - I had undertaken to cut the hedge. You may think that I have just added another chore to my life but the reality isn't like that at all. It took Debrah and me less than an hour to cut the hedge, sweep the courtyard, bag and dispose of the cuttings and change the faulty light bulb in the archway. Under the old managing agents regime we would have waited two months for all that to be done and been charged €50 for the light bulb change and some other extortionate amount for the hedge cutting. So, in fact, it saved me a load of dosh.
Before our 'community' chores, we did a couple of purely selfish domestic jobs - fixing the sagging curtain rail in our bedroom and putting up a new curtain rail and curtains in the Studio suite. All sounds very straightforward, I know - but in fact the 4m ceiling heights here mean all curtain height jobs entail the erection of an internal scaffold etc etc - bit of a palaver really but a job well done nonetheless.
So it was that Debrah and I pottered about together all morning, fitting in a very rare bacon and eggs breakfast/brunch and then suddenly it was time for her to go and get her flight to London - somehow the easy domesticity of the day seemed to make the parting harder than usual - or maybe it's because she had been here for two whole weeks rather than just the weekend.
I gather it was a bit dark and rainy when Debrah got back to London, which is no fun having just left a classic Languedoc summer's day of endless blue sky and sweltering heat.
It was no fun here either - the apartment suddenly feeling very empty after all our friends and family visitors of the last two weeks and especially without Debrah here helping me out (telling me how to do) the dinner for the guests.
I am pretty busy with new arrivals and departures over the next few days, but even so, I will miss the one arrival that won't be here for another two weeks - Debrah.
I didn't wash the car, but I did cut the hedge - the one in the courtyard at the end of the arch where we park the car. As part of our new found power over the fate of the house - because we now manage it ourselves - I had undertaken to cut the hedge. You may think that I have just added another chore to my life but the reality isn't like that at all. It took Debrah and me less than an hour to cut the hedge, sweep the courtyard, bag and dispose of the cuttings and change the faulty light bulb in the archway. Under the old managing agents regime we would have waited two months for all that to be done and been charged €50 for the light bulb change and some other extortionate amount for the hedge cutting. So, in fact, it saved me a load of dosh.
Before our 'community' chores, we did a couple of purely selfish domestic jobs - fixing the sagging curtain rail in our bedroom and putting up a new curtain rail and curtains in the Studio suite. All sounds very straightforward, I know - but in fact the 4m ceiling heights here mean all curtain height jobs entail the erection of an internal scaffold etc etc - bit of a palaver really but a job well done nonetheless.
So it was that Debrah and I pottered about together all morning, fitting in a very rare bacon and eggs breakfast/brunch and then suddenly it was time for her to go and get her flight to London - somehow the easy domesticity of the day seemed to make the parting harder than usual - or maybe it's because she had been here for two whole weeks rather than just the weekend.
I gather it was a bit dark and rainy when Debrah got back to London, which is no fun having just left a classic Languedoc summer's day of endless blue sky and sweltering heat.
It was no fun here either - the apartment suddenly feeling very empty after all our friends and family visitors of the last two weeks and especially without Debrah here helping me out (telling me how to do) the dinner for the guests.
I am pretty busy with new arrivals and departures over the next few days, but even so, I will miss the one arrival that won't be here for another two weeks - Debrah.
Saturday, 26 July 2008
Oh, that's good
The tomatoes are so good at the moment - I mean really really good - unbelievably good. Every meal this week has consisted of a fresh tomato salad alongside whatever else we have been eating - and so many varieties and colours and sizes and shapes, from red to yellow to green to purplish to striped and small and large and bell shapes and ribbed and knarled - and all mixed together with some good olive oil and salt and pepper and fresh basil - you actually don't need anything to go with them except maybe some crusty baguette.
Forgive me going on about the tomatoes - but apart from being absolutely delicious, they are nature's skin protection against the sun - and we have had a lot of sun this week and we have eaten a lot of tomatoes. It is one of life's lovely ironies that the sun makes tomatoes as good as they are and then the tomatoes protect one from the worst of the sun's radiation - neat eh?
Of course, the sun benefits all the fruit that is grown in this fertile valley - so the melons and peaches and apricots and strawberries, and other soft fruit, and the plums, that are just beginning to appear, and the figs, most of all the figs, are all just the most amazing mouthful of delicious sweetness that you could possibly imagine.
When I first came down to Carcassonne, three years ago, I had no concept of what figs were all about - I didn't get it at all. I had only ever tasted dried figs at Christmas and I had never tasted a fresh fig that had been plucked from a tree the day before and was oozing it's sweet juice from it's base, so much so that it was very very tricky to carry it home from the market without squashing it. What a revelation it was eating my first fresh fig - now, I can't get enough of them and I can't wait for the fig season to start and I mourn when it finally ends. Long live the fresh fig - with yoghurt and honey for breakfast and with foie gras anytime.
You may think that I am being a bit food obsessed - well, I am - after breakfast I think about lunch and after lunch I think about dinner and before I go to bed I think about breakfast and so it goes on. Surely, everyone adores food.
Well, maybe not to the same extent as I do. Our traveller guests, on an inter-railing tour of Europe, have spent most of their hours holed up here watching movies on the computer rather than experiencing the joy of the food market or the mysteries of the Cité or just sitting in the square having a coffee or a beer.
It seems that they would rather have just stayed here eating our food and drinking my beer than try to interact with the local population and immerse themselves in the local culture - which is what I thought these trips were about.
Christian is excluded from this criticism, not because he is my stepson, but because he has gone out of his way to help out at all times and because he felt embarrassed by his friends attitude and lack of appreciation. Bless!
It was a relief that they left today on the next leg of their journey - I told Christian that he was welcome to come straight back here if they all fell out! Anyway they are off to Milan via Nice and good luck to them.
Forgive me going on about the tomatoes - but apart from being absolutely delicious, they are nature's skin protection against the sun - and we have had a lot of sun this week and we have eaten a lot of tomatoes. It is one of life's lovely ironies that the sun makes tomatoes as good as they are and then the tomatoes protect one from the worst of the sun's radiation - neat eh?
Of course, the sun benefits all the fruit that is grown in this fertile valley - so the melons and peaches and apricots and strawberries, and other soft fruit, and the plums, that are just beginning to appear, and the figs, most of all the figs, are all just the most amazing mouthful of delicious sweetness that you could possibly imagine.
When I first came down to Carcassonne, three years ago, I had no concept of what figs were all about - I didn't get it at all. I had only ever tasted dried figs at Christmas and I had never tasted a fresh fig that had been plucked from a tree the day before and was oozing it's sweet juice from it's base, so much so that it was very very tricky to carry it home from the market without squashing it. What a revelation it was eating my first fresh fig - now, I can't get enough of them and I can't wait for the fig season to start and I mourn when it finally ends. Long live the fresh fig - with yoghurt and honey for breakfast and with foie gras anytime.
You may think that I am being a bit food obsessed - well, I am - after breakfast I think about lunch and after lunch I think about dinner and before I go to bed I think about breakfast and so it goes on. Surely, everyone adores food.
Well, maybe not to the same extent as I do. Our traveller guests, on an inter-railing tour of Europe, have spent most of their hours holed up here watching movies on the computer rather than experiencing the joy of the food market or the mysteries of the Cité or just sitting in the square having a coffee or a beer.
It seems that they would rather have just stayed here eating our food and drinking my beer than try to interact with the local population and immerse themselves in the local culture - which is what I thought these trips were about.
Christian is excluded from this criticism, not because he is my stepson, but because he has gone out of his way to help out at all times and because he felt embarrassed by his friends attitude and lack of appreciation. Bless!
It was a relief that they left today on the next leg of their journey - I told Christian that he was welcome to come straight back here if they all fell out! Anyway they are off to Milan via Nice and good luck to them.
Thursday, 24 July 2008
Friends and Family
Our very very good friends, Anna and Andrew (Aib), visited us this week for a couple of nights. The reason for the visit was the Massive Attack concert in the Cité on Tuesday evening, but actually that was just a sideshow to us all catching up on life and comparing notes on running a business and living in France.
Anna and Aib run a very successful holiday business from their chateau in South West France, near St Emilion in the heart of the Bordeaux wine region. They bought their property about two years before we bought ours, having stolen our idea of a place in France and then moved their whole life and young family out here, which was far more than we had ever intended to do - partly because we are much older (sadly) than them and our children are already grown up and not the least bit interested in what we do or say.
I guess we have since stolen their idea by setting up our own holiday business here - different scale and therefore different issues but essentially the same sort of operation - unique in its place and offer. In fact Debrah practiced her interior design thoughts on the chateau before putting them into operation here and Chris was instrumental in the chateau renovation before coming down to the Languedoc to help me out.
And the trading of thoughts and ideas, from pricing to recipes to new business opportunities, continues to this day - which makes every time we see them extremely competitive but a lot of fun.
They weren't our only visitors this week. Christian and two of his friends, Andrew and Camille, turned up after seven days at a festival in Spain - passing through as they inter-railed around Europe - but in reality just over-working the washing machine and emptying the fridge and sleeping quite a lot. So it ever was, generation after generation.
We all seven of us went to the Massive Attack concert on Tuesday evening - the music was excellent and the lighting system something else altogether, until it all just became a billboard for the band's political messages - oh well.
Anna was keen to go out into the Minervois and find some of our lovely wine from this region to take back up to Bordeaux (I hope they don't find out up there or they risk being more ostracised than an English family living in the Bordeaux region trying to run a hotel business - err!)
Bizarrely, when I realised where we were going, I thought about Simon and Juliet, whom we haven't seen for months as we have all been so busy, because they live close to Homps and because Juliet would be the perfect person to give Anna advice on what to buy. So wouldn't you know it - Simon and Juliet pitched up at the same lunchtime spot - 'En Bonne Compagnie' - next to the canal in Homps, that we had decided to visit for lunch. It was lovely to see them and Juliet immediately recommended several local vineyards and a wine shop just down the canal and across the footbridge, where we once again met up and proceeded to purchase everything that Juliet pointed at as good - well Anna did. The least said about the lunch restaurant the better - we have to try these places in the name of research - it wasn't dreadful but Debrah wasn't impressed and I don't think we will be going back again.
The exact opposite can be said about our lunch spot the next day. 'Le Jardin en Ville' is a new restaurant on the edge of the bastille town - in fact it is tucked away on the opposite side of the railway line in a definitely residential area, which makes it a bit quirky to begin with.
It is fabulous mix of lunch spot, where they grow all their own vegetables in a potager next door, art gallery and furniture showroom and generally all round cool place. The food was delicious and the setting relaxing and inspiring - part industrial and part contemporary garden and part eating 'chez nous'. It all felt like just being invited into someones very stylish garden for lunch, which is pretty much what it was. In many ways it was the same as our business here - the owner being front of house in his own relaxed style - doing something slightly different from everything else that's on offer in the area. The very best of luck to them and we shall certainly be doing our best to ensure that they succeed by visiting as often as we can.
Today was a changeover day - guests leaving the Apartment and new guests arriving - so busy busy. Debrah helped enormously by going to the supermarket to re-stock whilst I cleaned out and changed the room.
Then the travellers all fell out with each other, which I guess is part of travelling and growing up and learning about life - and then this evening they all tried to work it out between them, which was good to hear. They leave tomorrow on the next leg of their trip - to Nice and then Milan - and I wish them well and hope they don't kill each other!!
We shall just have to hope for the best - in the meantime our new guests want breakfast at eight in the morning - despite being on holiday. So I'm off to bed.
Anna and Aib run a very successful holiday business from their chateau in South West France, near St Emilion in the heart of the Bordeaux wine region. They bought their property about two years before we bought ours, having stolen our idea of a place in France and then moved their whole life and young family out here, which was far more than we had ever intended to do - partly because we are much older (sadly) than them and our children are already grown up and not the least bit interested in what we do or say.
I guess we have since stolen their idea by setting up our own holiday business here - different scale and therefore different issues but essentially the same sort of operation - unique in its place and offer. In fact Debrah practiced her interior design thoughts on the chateau before putting them into operation here and Chris was instrumental in the chateau renovation before coming down to the Languedoc to help me out.
And the trading of thoughts and ideas, from pricing to recipes to new business opportunities, continues to this day - which makes every time we see them extremely competitive but a lot of fun.
They weren't our only visitors this week. Christian and two of his friends, Andrew and Camille, turned up after seven days at a festival in Spain - passing through as they inter-railed around Europe - but in reality just over-working the washing machine and emptying the fridge and sleeping quite a lot. So it ever was, generation after generation.
We all seven of us went to the Massive Attack concert on Tuesday evening - the music was excellent and the lighting system something else altogether, until it all just became a billboard for the band's political messages - oh well.
Anna was keen to go out into the Minervois and find some of our lovely wine from this region to take back up to Bordeaux (I hope they don't find out up there or they risk being more ostracised than an English family living in the Bordeaux region trying to run a hotel business - err!)
Bizarrely, when I realised where we were going, I thought about Simon and Juliet, whom we haven't seen for months as we have all been so busy, because they live close to Homps and because Juliet would be the perfect person to give Anna advice on what to buy. So wouldn't you know it - Simon and Juliet pitched up at the same lunchtime spot - 'En Bonne Compagnie' - next to the canal in Homps, that we had decided to visit for lunch. It was lovely to see them and Juliet immediately recommended several local vineyards and a wine shop just down the canal and across the footbridge, where we once again met up and proceeded to purchase everything that Juliet pointed at as good - well Anna did. The least said about the lunch restaurant the better - we have to try these places in the name of research - it wasn't dreadful but Debrah wasn't impressed and I don't think we will be going back again.
The exact opposite can be said about our lunch spot the next day. 'Le Jardin en Ville' is a new restaurant on the edge of the bastille town - in fact it is tucked away on the opposite side of the railway line in a definitely residential area, which makes it a bit quirky to begin with.
It is fabulous mix of lunch spot, where they grow all their own vegetables in a potager next door, art gallery and furniture showroom and generally all round cool place. The food was delicious and the setting relaxing and inspiring - part industrial and part contemporary garden and part eating 'chez nous'. It all felt like just being invited into someones very stylish garden for lunch, which is pretty much what it was. In many ways it was the same as our business here - the owner being front of house in his own relaxed style - doing something slightly different from everything else that's on offer in the area. The very best of luck to them and we shall certainly be doing our best to ensure that they succeed by visiting as often as we can.
Today was a changeover day - guests leaving the Apartment and new guests arriving - so busy busy. Debrah helped enormously by going to the supermarket to re-stock whilst I cleaned out and changed the room.
Then the travellers all fell out with each other, which I guess is part of travelling and growing up and learning about life - and then this evening they all tried to work it out between them, which was good to hear. They leave tomorrow on the next leg of their trip - to Nice and then Milan - and I wish them well and hope they don't kill each other!!
We shall just have to hope for the best - in the meantime our new guests want breakfast at eight in the morning - despite being on holiday. So I'm off to bed.
Monday, 21 July 2008
Over my head
This evening I hosted a meeting of the co-proprietors of Hotel Roques-Guilhem, to give 42rvh it's official name. Hotel in France means a grand townhouse and M Roques-Guilhem was the person who commissioned and built it nearly three centuries ago.
I have always thought that the managing agents charges were quite high and that they didn't actually do very much to justify their charges. I have changed light bulbs and fixed faulty fittings and cut the hedge in the courtyard and unblocked the drain - so what exactly did they do? it seems that I wasn't the only one who thought that way.
For the past couple of months, my neighbour Brigitte - the Parisienne divorcee who lives upstairs - has been working away to persuade all the owners that we should manage the building ourselves and has obtained quotes from insurance companies etc in a bid to reduce the costs that we all pay annually.
So, instead of a meeting at the offices of the managing agents, we held a meeting in my dining room to officially terminate the contract of the managing agents and set up our own syndicate to manage the building.
Apart from providing the venue and a carafe of water, I had very little input to the proceedings. I understood the gist of a lot of the conversation but the majority of what was said, in detail, went over my head as the exchanges got quicker and louder. It appears that we approved the accounts of the last two years, which lets the outgoing agents walk away, we appointed a new president and treasurer and approved a draft budget and decided to obtain a quote for refurbishing the shutters on the outside of the building.
Brigitte, or Madame La Presidente, as she now thinks I should address her, has said that she will explain everything to me. In the meantime, I am the bad boy of the group as I haven't paid up all my arrears from the old agency and I am holding things up until I do - there is no rush as far as I'm concerned - I've done enough work unpaid for this place - a couple of weeks delay won't cause any harm.
There is something very disconcerting about sitting in a group of people and not being able to follow accurately what is being said and having absolutely no chance of inputting - by the time I had worked out a question in my head, the conversation had moved on and the question was redundant - consequently I spent most of time just listening and trying to follow what was going on. Suddenly, someone would turn to me and ask a question so fast and unexpected that I just floundered embarrassingly. So much for my language skills.
Someone else suffering from a lack of language skills today was Christian. He studied Spanish for a while at school and made a particularly bad job of it - well, today I bet he wished he had paid a bit more attention.
He, and a couple of chums, are doing a bit of inter-rail traveling this summer - as you do, when you are 18. They have been at a festival, somewhere south of Barcelona, for the past week and are trying to make their way up here so that they can come with us to see Massive Attack tomorrow night.
They happily told us they had made it to Valencia, which we pointed out was the wrong direction! They then spent a frustratingly long time trying to work out how to get from there back up the Spanish coast in a northerly direction, not helped by their lack of lingo and the fact that all the trains were full. Happily, they found someone who helped them and they got themselves on a slow train to Barcelona - where they found that a worried Debrah (mummy) had booked them into a proper hotel (not a hostel) for the night.
Apparently, it is all planned out for them to reach here tomorrow - but I suspect there might be another twist yet. This afternoon I was all set to drive to Barcelona to get them - but it looks like I am to be denied that pleasure.
You know - I am glad that they are finding their own way (hotel excepted) - that's what traveling is all about. But, we do all need to concentrate a bit more in our language lessons.
I have always thought that the managing agents charges were quite high and that they didn't actually do very much to justify their charges. I have changed light bulbs and fixed faulty fittings and cut the hedge in the courtyard and unblocked the drain - so what exactly did they do? it seems that I wasn't the only one who thought that way.
For the past couple of months, my neighbour Brigitte - the Parisienne divorcee who lives upstairs - has been working away to persuade all the owners that we should manage the building ourselves and has obtained quotes from insurance companies etc in a bid to reduce the costs that we all pay annually.
So, instead of a meeting at the offices of the managing agents, we held a meeting in my dining room to officially terminate the contract of the managing agents and set up our own syndicate to manage the building.
Apart from providing the venue and a carafe of water, I had very little input to the proceedings. I understood the gist of a lot of the conversation but the majority of what was said, in detail, went over my head as the exchanges got quicker and louder. It appears that we approved the accounts of the last two years, which lets the outgoing agents walk away, we appointed a new president and treasurer and approved a draft budget and decided to obtain a quote for refurbishing the shutters on the outside of the building.
Brigitte, or Madame La Presidente, as she now thinks I should address her, has said that she will explain everything to me. In the meantime, I am the bad boy of the group as I haven't paid up all my arrears from the old agency and I am holding things up until I do - there is no rush as far as I'm concerned - I've done enough work unpaid for this place - a couple of weeks delay won't cause any harm.
There is something very disconcerting about sitting in a group of people and not being able to follow accurately what is being said and having absolutely no chance of inputting - by the time I had worked out a question in my head, the conversation had moved on and the question was redundant - consequently I spent most of time just listening and trying to follow what was going on. Suddenly, someone would turn to me and ask a question so fast and unexpected that I just floundered embarrassingly. So much for my language skills.
Someone else suffering from a lack of language skills today was Christian. He studied Spanish for a while at school and made a particularly bad job of it - well, today I bet he wished he had paid a bit more attention.
He, and a couple of chums, are doing a bit of inter-rail traveling this summer - as you do, when you are 18. They have been at a festival, somewhere south of Barcelona, for the past week and are trying to make their way up here so that they can come with us to see Massive Attack tomorrow night.
They happily told us they had made it to Valencia, which we pointed out was the wrong direction! They then spent a frustratingly long time trying to work out how to get from there back up the Spanish coast in a northerly direction, not helped by their lack of lingo and the fact that all the trains were full. Happily, they found someone who helped them and they got themselves on a slow train to Barcelona - where they found that a worried Debrah (mummy) had booked them into a proper hotel (not a hostel) for the night.
Apparently, it is all planned out for them to reach here tomorrow - but I suspect there might be another twist yet. This afternoon I was all set to drive to Barcelona to get them - but it looks like I am to be denied that pleasure.
You know - I am glad that they are finding their own way (hotel excepted) - that's what traveling is all about. But, we do all need to concentrate a bit more in our language lessons.
Sunday, 20 July 2008
Food, glorious food!
Sandra took us to Le Parc for lunch on Saturday as a thank you for her week here in Carcassonne. Le Parc has a Michelin star and a growing reputation which is well-deserved.
We sat on the terrace under the shade of the massive sail-like awnings and had a most delicious and flavoursome lunch. Each time I visit I think I enjoy it even more than the last time. We all opted for a fixed price four course lunch but, with the various amuse-bouches and pre-desserts and petit fours, we had at least ten courses which made it all exceptional value for money.
There was a problem though. We all just wanted to go home and sleep and not have to think about anything else for the rest of the day - but we were scheduled to prepare and enjoy a four course dinner with our guests back at 42rvh - and I accurately predicted that it was going to be a long evening with much consumption of wine!
Sandra bowed out half way through and I don't blame her. Debrah wasn't that interested but did a sterling job of not only preparing most of the dinner and doing most of the clearing up but also getting the life history and other personal infornation (outstanding mortgage etc) from each and every one of our four guests - and they all had a story to tell, which is all I am going to say here, which will of course disappoint a few readers.
It's definitely time to call a halt when the guests start going to their own room and bringing their un-opened bottles of complimentary wine or when two guests start arm wrestling on the dining room table (man v woman - he was so competitive it was unbelievable)
In fact, Debrah and Sandra went out for lunch on Friday as well, with Nathalie. They went to a new restaurant / art gallery called 'Le Jardin en Ville' which combines healthy home-grown garden produce with art exhibitions. Sandra even considered buying a couple of pieces and shipping them back to Stockholm but I think the costs might be too high.
After finishing the tidying-up and taking Sandra to the train station and sorting out the breakfasts this morning, I spent all day helping Chris put some of the finishing touches to Denis' apartment. We still haven't finished, despite us all sacrificing our Sunday, but we are very close and it all looks wonderfully so much better than it did before we started. Well done everyone.
We sat on the terrace under the shade of the massive sail-like awnings and had a most delicious and flavoursome lunch. Each time I visit I think I enjoy it even more than the last time. We all opted for a fixed price four course lunch but, with the various amuse-bouches and pre-desserts and petit fours, we had at least ten courses which made it all exceptional value for money.
There was a problem though. We all just wanted to go home and sleep and not have to think about anything else for the rest of the day - but we were scheduled to prepare and enjoy a four course dinner with our guests back at 42rvh - and I accurately predicted that it was going to be a long evening with much consumption of wine!
Sandra bowed out half way through and I don't blame her. Debrah wasn't that interested but did a sterling job of not only preparing most of the dinner and doing most of the clearing up but also getting the life history and other personal infornation (outstanding mortgage etc) from each and every one of our four guests - and they all had a story to tell, which is all I am going to say here, which will of course disappoint a few readers.
It's definitely time to call a halt when the guests start going to their own room and bringing their un-opened bottles of complimentary wine or when two guests start arm wrestling on the dining room table (man v woman - he was so competitive it was unbelievable)
In fact, Debrah and Sandra went out for lunch on Friday as well, with Nathalie. They went to a new restaurant / art gallery called 'Le Jardin en Ville' which combines healthy home-grown garden produce with art exhibitions. Sandra even considered buying a couple of pieces and shipping them back to Stockholm but I think the costs might be too high.
After finishing the tidying-up and taking Sandra to the train station and sorting out the breakfasts this morning, I spent all day helping Chris put some of the finishing touches to Denis' apartment. We still haven't finished, despite us all sacrificing our Sunday, but we are very close and it all looks wonderfully so much better than it did before we started. Well done everyone.
Thursday, 17 July 2008
Summer Cold
Poor Debrah - she arrived back from the two day Thelma and Louise road trip (without the final driving over the precipice bit, obviously) and her cold has returned with a vengeance - so she was packed off to bed today to try and get rid once and for all.
As a result, the planned trip out for lunch was postponed and it was a relatively quiet day at home.
We sorted out Sandra's train ticket to Paris on Sunday and she went for a walk up to the Cité and told me off for referring to her 'boyfriend' in my blog yesterday - just a friend at the moment apparently. I don't know - you call him every night on the skype or text on your phone - seems like a boyfriend to me - but apparently not.
If not, then there are a least two other suitors here in Carcassonne who are keen to get to know you better - which would of course give them something else to fall out about.
As it is Patrick and Chris seem to have sorted out their differences for now - which means that they are talking to each other and drinking together when the occasion demands.
I gave the live music a miss tonight and after everyone else had gone to bed I had a chat with my older brother and his wife by the magic of skype whilst trying to write this latest version of my blog.
This blog, in fact - up to date and immediate.
As a result, the planned trip out for lunch was postponed and it was a relatively quiet day at home.
We sorted out Sandra's train ticket to Paris on Sunday and she went for a walk up to the Cité and told me off for referring to her 'boyfriend' in my blog yesterday - just a friend at the moment apparently. I don't know - you call him every night on the skype or text on your phone - seems like a boyfriend to me - but apparently not.
If not, then there are a least two other suitors here in Carcassonne who are keen to get to know you better - which would of course give them something else to fall out about.
As it is Patrick and Chris seem to have sorted out their differences for now - which means that they are talking to each other and drinking together when the occasion demands.
I gave the live music a miss tonight and after everyone else had gone to bed I had a chat with my older brother and his wife by the magic of skype whilst trying to write this latest version of my blog.
This blog, in fact - up to date and immediate.
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
New Shoes Blues
A couple of weeks ago, Debrah looked at our bookings schedule and noticed two free days during the her two week stay - "shall we go away for a couple of nights?", she asked - "what a good idea", I replied.
The next day I had a booking enquiry for the days in question and that put paid to that idea - the new guests arrived yesterday from Ireland. It's our first season and I didn't feel that I could refuse the booking - it was very disappointing that I couldn't head off with Debrah and Sandra down to Argeles and Ceret and Collioure to see Nick and Chris but I think the girls wanted a bit of girl time together so that worked out OK in the end.
Naturally, when they got back this evening they were both a bit weary from the sun and the wind and the travelling - and after a good supper, they both retired to an early bed ( Debrah still suffering a bit from her cold and Sandra keen to call her boyfriend in Australia).
I decided to wander down to the square and see what the musical offering was for this evening. They weren't bad actually, but their sound system was terrible - I think the Place Carnot doesn't have the best acoustics - it seems to work well right in front of the stage but sat anywhere else in the square the sound is poor - which is a shame and probably why a lot of the music is in the square Andre Chenier, which isn't surrounded by buildings, and has much better sound quality.
Whatever! I had stood and listened for half an hour and was just about to leave when I heard Chris' dulcet tones behind me. I had obviously walked straight past him as I wandered around looking to see if there was someone there that I knew (really must go and get some glasses soon!)
He was with Marine (his French girlfriend - yes, Chris has a girlfriend) and Cathy (the nice one of the two Cathys) and Gary and Des (who had both obviously been out for some time since mid-afternoon and were both struggling with the language - or just speech in general)
Anyway it was good to spend a while with them rather than stand on my own listening to the band - and as always they were good fun and entertaining.
It also gave me a chance to take my shoes off - my new shoes, even though only worn for 30 minutes each of the last two days, have given me blisters on both heels. What a pain.
The next day I had a booking enquiry for the days in question and that put paid to that idea - the new guests arrived yesterday from Ireland. It's our first season and I didn't feel that I could refuse the booking - it was very disappointing that I couldn't head off with Debrah and Sandra down to Argeles and Ceret and Collioure to see Nick and Chris but I think the girls wanted a bit of girl time together so that worked out OK in the end.
Naturally, when they got back this evening they were both a bit weary from the sun and the wind and the travelling - and after a good supper, they both retired to an early bed ( Debrah still suffering a bit from her cold and Sandra keen to call her boyfriend in Australia).
I decided to wander down to the square and see what the musical offering was for this evening. They weren't bad actually, but their sound system was terrible - I think the Place Carnot doesn't have the best acoustics - it seems to work well right in front of the stage but sat anywhere else in the square the sound is poor - which is a shame and probably why a lot of the music is in the square Andre Chenier, which isn't surrounded by buildings, and has much better sound quality.
Whatever! I had stood and listened for half an hour and was just about to leave when I heard Chris' dulcet tones behind me. I had obviously walked straight past him as I wandered around looking to see if there was someone there that I knew (really must go and get some glasses soon!)
He was with Marine (his French girlfriend - yes, Chris has a girlfriend) and Cathy (the nice one of the two Cathys) and Gary and Des (who had both obviously been out for some time since mid-afternoon and were both struggling with the language - or just speech in general)
Anyway it was good to spend a while with them rather than stand on my own listening to the band - and as always they were good fun and entertaining.
It also gave me a chance to take my shoes off - my new shoes, even though only worn for 30 minutes each of the last two days, have given me blisters on both heels. What a pain.
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Bastille Day
It was Bastille Day yesterday, which of course means a French national holiday, trading in the streets, pomp and ceremony at the 'Monument des Morts', the second largest firework display in France (after Paris) and a thumping DJ late into the night. Something for everyone I guess.
The day itself was relatively quiet - in fact it seemed to be quieter than a usual Sunday, which was a bit strange. There was a fairly low key farmers market, where we bought a huge sausage sandwich as breakfast and three bottles of 'Carthagene', a local aperitif - but it was a bit early in the morning for wine tasting (even for me!) so we said we would come back but we never did.
So we wandered down the main shopping street and bought shoes. Well, Sandra didn't buy any because they didn't have her size in the ones she liked and I spent €14 on some summer knockabouts and Debrah bought three pairs - plus ca change.
After a lovely dinner on Sunday evening, which both sets of guests seemed to thoroughly enjoy, we had to plan a pre-firework supper. It was meant to be a barbecue down at Patrick's house before viewing the fireworks from his terrace - but he seemed too pre-occupied with the bar build and a little freaked about having to provide food for our two vegetarian guests, despite me assuring him that we would have all that taken of. So we decided to eat at home first and then wander on down there about an hour before the kick-off.
To spice things up, we did a wine tasting - compare and contrast three reds from different wine regions within the area - which was a lot of fun. I cracked my usual joke about 25 years of research before I realised I couldn't drink Bordeaux reds because the Cabernet Sauvignon grape gives me indigestion and everybody laughed except Debrah, who stifled a yawn.
That's not fair really, because Debrah has been joining in everything despite feeling really grotty with a horrible summer cold that she bought with her from The UK last Saturday. It's probably not a summer cold because I hear it is still winter in the UK!
I didn't get to see the pomp and ceremony at the statue to the dead but I know it happened - some speeches, a few medals, a lot of bowing and handshakes, an enormous amount of kissing and a band all trying to play in time and in tune - even the same tune - but failing.
The fireworks were as spectacular as they always are and my guests thoroughly appreciated the private viewing platform rather than slumming it in the street with the half million visitors that annually attend the event. I have seen it four times now and it didn't have the same impact as before despite being every bit as fabulous - I don't think you can replace the first time that you see it because it just blows your mind - every first timer yesterday said it was the best firework display they had ever seen (including Hong Kong handover, Millenium etc)
None of us stayed long after the event and I don't think any of us lingered in the square where the DJ was in full swing as we passed through on the way home. We are just far enough away not to have been kept awake by it (Chris said the windows were rattling in their frames, in his apartment overlooking the square, until after 2am) which is just as well as I had to be up at 6.30am this morning to give guests a lift to the station for an early train.
After a bit of fun and festivity at the weekend, it was back to room chnages and washing and cleaning today, with a new set of Irish arriving mid-afternoon. Debrah and Sandra have swanned off to the coast and then the mountains to see Nick and Chris down at Argeles and Ceret - lucky devils.
Oh, to be so laissez-faire now and again.
The day itself was relatively quiet - in fact it seemed to be quieter than a usual Sunday, which was a bit strange. There was a fairly low key farmers market, where we bought a huge sausage sandwich as breakfast and three bottles of 'Carthagene', a local aperitif - but it was a bit early in the morning for wine tasting (even for me!) so we said we would come back but we never did.
So we wandered down the main shopping street and bought shoes. Well, Sandra didn't buy any because they didn't have her size in the ones she liked and I spent €14 on some summer knockabouts and Debrah bought three pairs - plus ca change.
After a lovely dinner on Sunday evening, which both sets of guests seemed to thoroughly enjoy, we had to plan a pre-firework supper. It was meant to be a barbecue down at Patrick's house before viewing the fireworks from his terrace - but he seemed too pre-occupied with the bar build and a little freaked about having to provide food for our two vegetarian guests, despite me assuring him that we would have all that taken of. So we decided to eat at home first and then wander on down there about an hour before the kick-off.
To spice things up, we did a wine tasting - compare and contrast three reds from different wine regions within the area - which was a lot of fun. I cracked my usual joke about 25 years of research before I realised I couldn't drink Bordeaux reds because the Cabernet Sauvignon grape gives me indigestion and everybody laughed except Debrah, who stifled a yawn.
That's not fair really, because Debrah has been joining in everything despite feeling really grotty with a horrible summer cold that she bought with her from The UK last Saturday. It's probably not a summer cold because I hear it is still winter in the UK!
I didn't get to see the pomp and ceremony at the statue to the dead but I know it happened - some speeches, a few medals, a lot of bowing and handshakes, an enormous amount of kissing and a band all trying to play in time and in tune - even the same tune - but failing.
The fireworks were as spectacular as they always are and my guests thoroughly appreciated the private viewing platform rather than slumming it in the street with the half million visitors that annually attend the event. I have seen it four times now and it didn't have the same impact as before despite being every bit as fabulous - I don't think you can replace the first time that you see it because it just blows your mind - every first timer yesterday said it was the best firework display they had ever seen (including Hong Kong handover, Millenium etc)
None of us stayed long after the event and I don't think any of us lingered in the square where the DJ was in full swing as we passed through on the way home. We are just far enough away not to have been kept awake by it (Chris said the windows were rattling in their frames, in his apartment overlooking the square, until after 2am) which is just as well as I had to be up at 6.30am this morning to give guests a lift to the station for an early train.
After a bit of fun and festivity at the weekend, it was back to room chnages and washing and cleaning today, with a new set of Irish arriving mid-afternoon. Debrah and Sandra have swanned off to the coast and then the mountains to see Nick and Chris down at Argeles and Ceret - lucky devils.
Oh, to be so laissez-faire now and again.
Sunday, 13 July 2008
Festival
We are in the middle of the Bastille weekend and it is full-on festival time in France. St George's may pass by with a whimper in England - it has done so for every single year that I have been there to see it - but in France, Bastille Day is celebrated with much ceremony.
But I get ahead of myself, because the big day isn't until tomorrow. Even so there has been a carnival atmosphere on the streets and an almost shameless 'laissez-faire' attempt to sell goods by putting up stalls outside shops with stuff on offer at ridiculously low prices. It's all complete tat of course and you wouldn't buy one for 5 euros let alone two of them, but at least it's a bit more pro-active than the usuaul French retail experience.
Cynics would say that they are just trying to offload their rubbish on a holiday weekend during the sales. Well, it's the first time I've seen them recognise a marketing opportunity and try to capitalise on it - maybe it needs a bit of a more sophisticated approach but 'bravo' for effort.
We have two sets of new guests who seem to be enjoying the festival atmosphere whilst dodging the showers and we had a lovely dinner with them tonight and tomorrow we will take them all to see the fabulous firework display at and above the Cité, courtesy of Patrick's terrace which has a grandstand panoramic view.
Chris and Patrick are talking again, although it is a rather uneasy truce - I gather that Patrick laid into Chris a bit and Chris refused to give him an apology and a sort of stand-off now exists. I am trying very hard to keep out of it. Both say things to me that contradict what the other one has said and I don't want to get involved - so please just get a grip, the both of you.
Meanwhile, we still haven't finished Denis' apartment and we won't get paid our final instalment until we do. So, that means more weekend and evening working this week.
On a positive note, Debrah arrived yesterday and is here for two weeks - hurrah. We also have our lovely friend, Sandra, from Stockholm, staying with us for the week. She arrived today via London and it was so good to see her - I haven't seen her in two years - and it's the first chance she has had to visit us in the South of France - I guess I will have to find the time to go to Sweden sometime with Debrah but I can't see that happening any time soon.
Not to worry - Carcassonne is 'en fete' and I'm loving every bit of my new life in the Languedoc - what more can I say?
But I get ahead of myself, because the big day isn't until tomorrow. Even so there has been a carnival atmosphere on the streets and an almost shameless 'laissez-faire' attempt to sell goods by putting up stalls outside shops with stuff on offer at ridiculously low prices. It's all complete tat of course and you wouldn't buy one for 5 euros let alone two of them, but at least it's a bit more pro-active than the usuaul French retail experience.
Cynics would say that they are just trying to offload their rubbish on a holiday weekend during the sales. Well, it's the first time I've seen them recognise a marketing opportunity and try to capitalise on it - maybe it needs a bit of a more sophisticated approach but 'bravo' for effort.
We have two sets of new guests who seem to be enjoying the festival atmosphere whilst dodging the showers and we had a lovely dinner with them tonight and tomorrow we will take them all to see the fabulous firework display at and above the Cité, courtesy of Patrick's terrace which has a grandstand panoramic view.
Chris and Patrick are talking again, although it is a rather uneasy truce - I gather that Patrick laid into Chris a bit and Chris refused to give him an apology and a sort of stand-off now exists. I am trying very hard to keep out of it. Both say things to me that contradict what the other one has said and I don't want to get involved - so please just get a grip, the both of you.
Meanwhile, we still haven't finished Denis' apartment and we won't get paid our final instalment until we do. So, that means more weekend and evening working this week.
On a positive note, Debrah arrived yesterday and is here for two weeks - hurrah. We also have our lovely friend, Sandra, from Stockholm, staying with us for the week. She arrived today via London and it was so good to see her - I haven't seen her in two years - and it's the first chance she has had to visit us in the South of France - I guess I will have to find the time to go to Sweden sometime with Debrah but I can't see that happening any time soon.
Not to worry - Carcassonne is 'en fete' and I'm loving every bit of my new life in the Languedoc - what more can I say?
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
Cuban Beats
A lot of the free concerts during the music festival can be a bit take it or leave it - 'local' bands (not made it national) or niche music (you have a fan base of 200 and it's rubbish) tend to dominate in my experience of the last three years - what a seasoned campaigner I am these days.
This evening I had a rare night off from client duties and decided to take in the much lauded cuban jazz band that was playing in the Place Carnot.
Wow! Were they good or what. They were fronted by a young pianist who never ever looked at the piano or what he was playing but never ever missed a note - he has played with the Buena Vista Social Club which says all you need to know about his musical ability. The rest of the band were equally fantastic and in true jazz fashion thay all had their moment in the spotlight - the drummer's arms were a blur and the saxophonist/flautist/clarinettist was just superb. You would have paid £50 to see them in London and $100 in New York and here we had them laid on for free - 'incroyable' as my neighbours might say.
The fact that it was a hot and sultry evening after a scorchio day just added to the ambience - everyone seemed ready to let their hair down in the relative cool of the night.
Unfortunately, the much anticipated falling out between Chris and Patrick has occurred and I seem to be slightly in the middle of it - Patrick moaning at me about Chris and vice versa. I said to them both to just thrash it out between themselves cos I ain't no counsellor or anybody's keeper and anyway I haven't got the time to bother with it. However, despite asking them both separately to join me for a drink and watch the band, we ended up on opposite sides of the square - pathetic really but not my problem.
Am I bothered? Do I look bothered? Nah
This evening I had a rare night off from client duties and decided to take in the much lauded cuban jazz band that was playing in the Place Carnot.
Wow! Were they good or what. They were fronted by a young pianist who never ever looked at the piano or what he was playing but never ever missed a note - he has played with the Buena Vista Social Club which says all you need to know about his musical ability. The rest of the band were equally fantastic and in true jazz fashion thay all had their moment in the spotlight - the drummer's arms were a blur and the saxophonist/flautist/clarinettist was just superb. You would have paid £50 to see them in London and $100 in New York and here we had them laid on for free - 'incroyable' as my neighbours might say.
The fact that it was a hot and sultry evening after a scorchio day just added to the ambience - everyone seemed ready to let their hair down in the relative cool of the night.
Unfortunately, the much anticipated falling out between Chris and Patrick has occurred and I seem to be slightly in the middle of it - Patrick moaning at me about Chris and vice versa. I said to them both to just thrash it out between themselves cos I ain't no counsellor or anybody's keeper and anyway I haven't got the time to bother with it. However, despite asking them both separately to join me for a drink and watch the band, we ended up on opposite sides of the square - pathetic really but not my problem.
Am I bothered? Do I look bothered? Nah
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
Soul Diva
Good grief! - it has been a whole week since I last got around to writing a blog - how very slack of me.
It is well into the heart of the summer season now and the last seven days seem to have been a blur of activity. I am chuffed to bits that we are pretty much fully booked for the month - although that means a lot of cleaning and room changing and ironing. Must get help.
The July music festival has started and it definitely feels like holiday season and summer - suddenly everyone has windows open rather than shutters closed and as a result there is a lot more noise on top of the usual street bustle, which itself is louder than normal because of people returning from concerts - you can listen to the neighbours music or what they are watching on TV or just listen to them having an argument and throwing things at each other - sometimes you think there is a big row and then realise it's on the TV!
The Festival kicked off on Saturday with some opera and then on Sunday we went to watch the soul diva herself - Diana Ross. She didn't disappoint at all and still has a fantastic voice that is uniquely hers, sounding just as she has done for 40 years. Of course the gay crowd were out in force to see the array of sequinned frocks and sing along to the classic anthems of the last four decades. I am still humming 'Touch me in the Morning' even now - and I'm not even slightly gay!
Guests have come and gone and the current lot all leave tomorrow, so it's all change once more in the rooms. The lovely Les and Morag have returned three months after their first visit (our first returning visitors) and they have out-concerted us by taking in both Diana Ross and ZZ Top in successive nights - what a contrast! In the other room we have our first honeymooners - last minute decision to get married after being together for 16 years - good luck to them.
I had been moaning a bit recently that the bookings seemed to have dried up and that we still had a lot of gaps in July and August - we had probably gone a week without a booking and paranoia had set in. Well the last few days have seen a flurry of activity for both the Summer months and the Autumn so I am feeling a lot better about things now. In due deference to the power of the internet, I have taken a booking from each of Australia, Ireland, The USA and Spain in the last 48 hours. we have done no marketing in any of those territories yet people still find us thanks to the wonder of the web and the fabulous reviews that guests have left on sites such as 'tripadvisor'.
I'm a bit nervous about the Spanish booking - they will be talking Spanish French which will no doubt be very different from my English French and neither will actually be French as the French know it, but I am sure with a bit of arm waving, pointing, shoulder shrugging and eye rolling we will manage to understand each other - what is there to understand anyway - key, what time do you want breakfast?, goodbye - that should do it.
Adios
It is well into the heart of the summer season now and the last seven days seem to have been a blur of activity. I am chuffed to bits that we are pretty much fully booked for the month - although that means a lot of cleaning and room changing and ironing. Must get help.
The July music festival has started and it definitely feels like holiday season and summer - suddenly everyone has windows open rather than shutters closed and as a result there is a lot more noise on top of the usual street bustle, which itself is louder than normal because of people returning from concerts - you can listen to the neighbours music or what they are watching on TV or just listen to them having an argument and throwing things at each other - sometimes you think there is a big row and then realise it's on the TV!
The Festival kicked off on Saturday with some opera and then on Sunday we went to watch the soul diva herself - Diana Ross. She didn't disappoint at all and still has a fantastic voice that is uniquely hers, sounding just as she has done for 40 years. Of course the gay crowd were out in force to see the array of sequinned frocks and sing along to the classic anthems of the last four decades. I am still humming 'Touch me in the Morning' even now - and I'm not even slightly gay!
Guests have come and gone and the current lot all leave tomorrow, so it's all change once more in the rooms. The lovely Les and Morag have returned three months after their first visit (our first returning visitors) and they have out-concerted us by taking in both Diana Ross and ZZ Top in successive nights - what a contrast! In the other room we have our first honeymooners - last minute decision to get married after being together for 16 years - good luck to them.
I had been moaning a bit recently that the bookings seemed to have dried up and that we still had a lot of gaps in July and August - we had probably gone a week without a booking and paranoia had set in. Well the last few days have seen a flurry of activity for both the Summer months and the Autumn so I am feeling a lot better about things now. In due deference to the power of the internet, I have taken a booking from each of Australia, Ireland, The USA and Spain in the last 48 hours. we have done no marketing in any of those territories yet people still find us thanks to the wonder of the web and the fabulous reviews that guests have left on sites such as 'tripadvisor'.
I'm a bit nervous about the Spanish booking - they will be talking Spanish French which will no doubt be very different from my English French and neither will actually be French as the French know it, but I am sure with a bit of arm waving, pointing, shoulder shrugging and eye rolling we will manage to understand each other - what is there to understand anyway - key, what time do you want breakfast?, goodbye - that should do it.
Adios
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
Powerless
Chris came up from the bar refit this morning and asked if he could borrow an extension lead. I reluctantly said yes - not that I mind lending tools to Chris for our own renovation projects, but I am loathe to see them leave the premises because I know from experience that they don't come back.
It was slightly ironic that the power went off almost immediately - not just in the apartment, or even the building - but for half of the bastide town. The power was out for most of the morning and only came back on at ten to twelve - that was a relief - nobody would have been able to have lunch otherwise! As it was no-one could have a coffee all morning and the place ground to a complete halt.
It was lucky that I had finished preparing breakfast for my guests (toast, coffee etc) even if they turned up for breakfast 45 minutes later than they asked for it - as if I have all day to stand around waiting on them. No - I had planned to go and paint the bathroom walls in Denis' apartment, but between the late guests and the power cut (bathroom is internal with no natural light) that plan was shelved and I went to the supermarket for supplies instead.
It seemed as if the whole of Carcassonne had the same idea because Leclerc was absolutely rammed - I did my shopping in true bloke fashion and filled the trolley with everything on my list (and not an item more) in a flat out 20 minutes and then had to wait for half an hour just to get through the checkout - I was a tad irritated but held it all together.
This afternoon I finally got round to painting said bathroom and then a couple of hours ironing for my normal hotel job ahead of a double room change tomorrow before checking on the renovation progress last thing and then cooking supper for the hard working boy and myself and taking a new booking and answering several enquiries - phew!
Not much else to note really. I did think to myself, as the sun continues to beat down (at last) in true Languedoc style, how little time I have had to actually enjoy it over the past two weeks. I don't mind having to be on duty seven days a week because it is our own business, but there has to be some upside as well - some time to relax, some time to appreciate it all. At the moment it seems to be 12 hours a day and Debrah in London all week and manic weekends - we need to move on to the next phase, whatever that is.
As soon as I know the answer I will tell you.
It was slightly ironic that the power went off almost immediately - not just in the apartment, or even the building - but for half of the bastide town. The power was out for most of the morning and only came back on at ten to twelve - that was a relief - nobody would have been able to have lunch otherwise! As it was no-one could have a coffee all morning and the place ground to a complete halt.
It was lucky that I had finished preparing breakfast for my guests (toast, coffee etc) even if they turned up for breakfast 45 minutes later than they asked for it - as if I have all day to stand around waiting on them. No - I had planned to go and paint the bathroom walls in Denis' apartment, but between the late guests and the power cut (bathroom is internal with no natural light) that plan was shelved and I went to the supermarket for supplies instead.
It seemed as if the whole of Carcassonne had the same idea because Leclerc was absolutely rammed - I did my shopping in true bloke fashion and filled the trolley with everything on my list (and not an item more) in a flat out 20 minutes and then had to wait for half an hour just to get through the checkout - I was a tad irritated but held it all together.
This afternoon I finally got round to painting said bathroom and then a couple of hours ironing for my normal hotel job ahead of a double room change tomorrow before checking on the renovation progress last thing and then cooking supper for the hard working boy and myself and taking a new booking and answering several enquiries - phew!
Not much else to note really. I did think to myself, as the sun continues to beat down (at last) in true Languedoc style, how little time I have had to actually enjoy it over the past two weeks. I don't mind having to be on duty seven days a week because it is our own business, but there has to be some upside as well - some time to relax, some time to appreciate it all. At the moment it seems to be 12 hours a day and Debrah in London all week and manic weekends - we need to move on to the next phase, whatever that is.
As soon as I know the answer I will tell you.
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