Know thy neighbour

In anticipation of a meeting of the co-proprietors this week and any discussions about exterior and interior common parts renovations, I visited the 'mairie', from where I was sent off to the OPAH office, for information about any grants available for renovations to historic buildings in the town centre.

In true French bureaucratic style I came away none the wiser, a bit more confused and with a couple of forms to complete. It appears that there are grants available but, no, they couldn't tell me how much or for what until I had completed the forms and taken photographs of the areas to be worked on and had a full and detailed estimate from an approved builder/decorator/supplier - but once I do all that they will make a decision within three weeks - thank god for small mercies.

"Do you have a list of approved suppliers", I asked. "Non", she replied. That's helpful then, I thought as I left.

We had some bad news last week relating to our plans for the takeover of the rest of the apartments at 42rvh - the studio that was for sale on the second floor has been sold to an ex-pat Frenchman living in Korea and will now be rented out.

Brigitte was equally upset as she will now have a new neighbour immediately next to her - she was banking on us buying it and only allowing very quiet guests to stay, which obviously can't be guaranteed either.

Then on Saturday morning the tenant from the courtyard apartment, situated below our bedroom, started moving out and things are looking up again. I was always planning to speak to the owner of that apartment - it is now imperative that we try to get him to sell to us before he puts another tenant in there.

We were being very nosy neighbours from upstairs as the removals commenced - we weren't sure if he was actually moving out or not and wanted to know for certain - that and natural curiosity obviously. When the bed appeared on the back of the trailer that had been brought into the courtyard we were convinced he was going.

When Debrah called me over to the window to show me something astonishing I thought I was about to behold an ugly table lamp or cheap reproduction coffee table, given her abhorrence of bad taste and bad design, but no, it was altogether a much more shocking sight.

Nestled in the protection of the bed were automatic weapons - rifles, pistols and a machine gun. They looked real enough and I have no reason to believe that they weren't - after all the departing tenant was indeed a member of France's armed forces based here in Carcassonne, the 3rd parachute regiment - the same regiment that shot 17 civilians earlier this year during an open day that was designed to bring the army and the townspeople closer together!

As we watched from above, a collection of swords was brought out and added to the haul. They may well have been ceremonial but even so it was quite sobering to think that all those implements of destruction were housed beneath our bedroom for the last year. The tragedy of the open day exposed a myriad of lax procedures relating to weapons and ammunition - I'm glad that I didn't know those weapons were there and I'm equally glad that they are no longer there.

Sleep safely and don't have nightmares.