New girl in town

My early week guests departed on Wednesday and Thursday and a group of four arrived on Thursday morning, thankfully on separate flights, although two of them were on the late running Stansted flight that brought Debrah, and our very good friend Mel, here for the weekend. It was a bit of a squash in the car but we made it back safe and sound.

Mel's arrival has caused a bit of a stir in the local community. During canapés and cocktails with the new guests (who are all policemen and women!), Mel was the first to make an appearance and was assumed to be my wife until Debrah made her grand entrance ten minutes later, which caused some mildly amusing confusion.

Later last night, we wandered up to the Makhila, where Mel was greeted with enthusiasm by the usual crowd - in fact, their reaction to her was slightly astonishing to behold. David went very quiet before making his excuses and departing early to polish his boules, Bob was like an excited puppy dog who couldn't finish one sentence before starting the next, Chris had had a shower and a shave and Pierre went into full on 'Pepe le Peu / aah, cheri' mode whilst telling her about his two donkeys in the Ariege with soft noses whilst simultaneously stroking Mels nose with his forefinger. Blimey! - talk about causing a stir.

As a result we agreed to meet up this evening to play boules, but not before we had enjoyed a varied and lovely day in the Autumn sunshine. We went shopping in Les Halles for our supper and then clothes shopping for Mel (Debrah considers herself to be Mel's personal shopper) and then lunch at Felix in the square before some more shopping, back home for a short nap, some domestic work on the ironing board, trying out a couple of new cocktail mixes and finally our pre-arranged boules match.

I have been trying to meet up with the guys for a game of boules for some time and tonight I finally managed it. David had made some pasties (how very British) and others had bought some wine and sandwiches which we all consumed under the lights at the Boulodrome whilst we played two games well into the evening - and a lot of fun it was too, with everyone producing the odd brilliant shot amongst the fairly average play.

Meanwhile, the race to open the Irish bars continues at a hot pace. It looks like the old Irish bar will get there first, but Patrick and his team won't be far behind with the new bar, to be called The Celt, despite losing Chris and Declan to the USA next week. Personally I just wish they would both hurry up so that we can get some big screen TV sport watching back in town.

Quiet Time

Four days on from the excitement of buying my first truffle and I still haven't really done anything with it. Well, I took a photo of it and sent it to Debrah and I cut into it, putting the larger piece into the freezer and the smaller piece in the fridge and the crumbs into my mouth, but I haven't cooked with it or eaten it with anything else. I might just buy a few small bottles, decant some decent olive oil into each and a small piece of truffle and that will be next years Christmas presents sorted. So, if you are reading this and you are nice to me this year, you know what to expect.

Last week I put in our final Ikea order for the rest of the shelving system for the office and utility room and for some furniture for the dining room. This week I have had a daily conversation with a charming but utterly useless assistant on the so called 'helpline' - so far they have promised much and delivered nothing; in fact they haven't as yet committed to deliver anything and my frustration is growing. i shall be back on the phone again first thing in the morning.

My frustration is nothing compared to the ordeal that Patrick is going through. Having successfully bid for the Irish Bar, it was subsequently discovered that the whole place had been cleaned out - fridges, glass washers, AC units, furniture, till, the lot. Absolutely no doubt as to who was involved in the robbery (slightly bitter ex owner?) but not sure anyone can prove it, so it all comes down to an insurance claim. French bureaucracy being a national institution and pastime, I can only see much work being created for the Mairie and the insurance company and the Gendarmerie and many apologies and shoulder shrugging and a very very slow resolution to the whole saga. Patrick wanted to be open at the very latest for St Patricks Day (naturally) but that could just be Irish mist.

I had dinner with Patrick the other night at a restaurant called 'Le Sixieme Sens' (sixth sense). He was slightly worried when I met him that he hadn't made a booking. I assured him that on a Tuesday in January we would be ok and so it turned out - we were the only people in the place. There were in fact more staff (4) than customers (2) which made us wonder how they make a profit and keep going at all. It didn't help that we only had a main course and a bottle of wine - no starter and no dessert, no aperitif and no digestif and no coffee. The food was excellent so it would be a real shame if it came to the worst for them, but I am sure they will be busier at the end of the week and further into the season.

Last night, Gary dropped in to borrow a book about the Cathars which he needed for reference for the film script he is writing. I love Gary to bits and have total respect for his amazing self-belief in everything he does. I really do hope that it results in a massively successful film. When he left, four hours after arriving (which is quite a long time just to pick up a book) we had drunk too much red wine and talked too much complete bollocks. C'est la vie et c'est Gary.

Debrah arrives tomorrow for the weekend - lots of box sorting to be done and people to meet and, hopefully, a bit of time to ourselves - after all, it's a quiet time of year.