How did that happen? All of a sudden it's 2011, family have come and gone over Christmas and New Year, our own bedroom has been redecorated to stunning effect, the new centre island has been installed in the kitchen and I am in the middle of the refurbishment of the two letting apartments. It's half way through January already and the new season clients will be be upon us in three weeks time. Blimey!
Painting any of the rooms in these apartments is always a major undertaking because of the sheer scale of everything. So I was very happy to get our bedroom revamp out of the way before Christmas - and fabulously sexy it looks too in it's new deep blue colour. Debrah is very happy with the outcome and anything that makes Debrah happy is good news.
Nothing got done at 42rvh during the three weeks of family visitations for Christmas and New Year - too much cooking and clearing up after to leave time for anything constructive - but that is as it should be over a festive season. We had some clients who were charming, we had a Christmas tree tumble and a few broken baubles, we had a very drunken New Years Eve dinner. All very much par for the course.
We had hoped to install the new kitchen island before the festivities but were frustrated by the sudden non-availability of a key part of the design - it has been my experience here in France for four years now that when you want something urgently there seems to be a sudden nationwide shortage of said product - grrrr. The missing items were finally acquired in the first week of January and the new island was installed last Monday. It's fantastic. A very big thank you to Ian Gillan and his carpentry skills for a fabulous job. The new layout is perfect for the cooking days and for cooking prep for both in-house and outside catering.
It is now three years since 42rvh opened for business and, inevitably, the suites are showing the signs of a bit of wear and tear - water splashes on the walls in the kitchens and bathrooms, chipped paintwork on skirtings and walls from suitcases etc. Time for a refresh. So January's priority is to repaint both suites whilst the sofas get new covers and the windows get new curtains and the rooms get new bits of furniture and the whole place gets a bit of a new look - followed by new photos and a new look to the website - lots to do but all happily progressing and under control.
We have many new plans too for our clients for this year which will find their way onto a new look website just as soon as we can get around to getting that all done.
All change.
And the final change is that this blog, the title of this blog, the original raison d'être for this blog, no longer exists. I no longer split my time between London and the Languedoc. I am now a full-on full time expat who spends all his year in France, only returning to the UK for fleeting visits to see family and friends and buy paint and power tools at half the price. (yes, even allowing for the tolls and petrol cost of driving there and back)
What is wonderful is that Debrah is also here full time too (apart from occasional visits to milk some income from the UK design and marketing industry) and we haven't been happier in years than we are now. I know, very soppy, but true.
So this blog is coming to a close. It has served it's purpose. It was originally written to record my early experiences of living in France on my own, as an observation of life in a different country, as a daily letter to my wife and then as a way of keeping Debrah involved with the renovation of 42rvh and finally a reminder of the highs and lows of opening and running a business abroad.
I say abroad but I no longer think of this as abroad. Don't get me wrong - I still don't understand France or the French or the language for the most part - but I do consider this to be 'home'. This is where I live and this is where I work. I no longer live in London and the Languedoc - I live in the Languedoc, in Carcassonne.
So this will be the final post to this blog page and a new, more relevant, exciting, interesting (hopefully) blog will be appearing soon that will highlight the special relationship we have here with the food and the wine and the markets and the producers and the winemakers and this amazing, still relatively undiscovered region of France.
Adieu et bientôt
Showing posts with label luxury apartments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label luxury apartments. Show all posts
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Monday, 1 November 2010
Last few clients for 2010
So that's that, pretty much, for another year. We hosted our last client dinner on Sunday evening and I hosted our last market tour and cooking day for four clients on Saturday. Well, they were the last ones that we have booked until just before New Year so it feels very much like the end of the season. We have a couple of more bookings to come but they are self-catering so there is very little to do for them.
It sort of feels not before time too. As Debrah so beautifully summed it up "When are the people going to stop coming"? I know exactly what she means and I feel ready for a rest from the seven days a week schedule. We will have a bit of time to ourselves, a bit of lazy time and a trip to England to see family and friends.
It's been another good year at 42rvh with pretty solid bookings from May until now and very few free nights in either suite during that whole period. On top of that we started outside catering for other holiday rentals which was interesting. We will take stock of what worked well and what didn't and which areas of the business we need to change and which areas we want to develop. We coped with the volcanic ash cloud, the double dip recession, the falling euro and the strikes - or rather our guests did - so thank you all for persevering.
After three years the suites are beginning to show a bit of wear and tear so there will be some maintenance needed during January and February - a bit of paint here and there, a few repairs and a few furniture changes - I think it's known as a refresh.
It's also five years since our own apartment was first decorated by us so we are going to make some changes to the kitchen, to accommodate the cooking days more easily, and some changes to our own bedroom where we need more storage space for Debrah's clothes and shoes! We certainly won't be sitting down for the winter.
And it does feel like winter is nearly upon us - the clocks have gone back, the gel fires have been lit, the winter duvets are back on the beds and we had our first power cut during the week.
Debrah has enjoyed her first Summer here - let's see if I can get her through the winter months without too much melancholy!
It sort of feels not before time too. As Debrah so beautifully summed it up "When are the people going to stop coming"? I know exactly what she means and I feel ready for a rest from the seven days a week schedule. We will have a bit of time to ourselves, a bit of lazy time and a trip to England to see family and friends.
It's been another good year at 42rvh with pretty solid bookings from May until now and very few free nights in either suite during that whole period. On top of that we started outside catering for other holiday rentals which was interesting. We will take stock of what worked well and what didn't and which areas of the business we need to change and which areas we want to develop. We coped with the volcanic ash cloud, the double dip recession, the falling euro and the strikes - or rather our guests did - so thank you all for persevering.
After three years the suites are beginning to show a bit of wear and tear so there will be some maintenance needed during January and February - a bit of paint here and there, a few repairs and a few furniture changes - I think it's known as a refresh.
It's also five years since our own apartment was first decorated by us so we are going to make some changes to the kitchen, to accommodate the cooking days more easily, and some changes to our own bedroom where we need more storage space for Debrah's clothes and shoes! We certainly won't be sitting down for the winter.
And it does feel like winter is nearly upon us - the clocks have gone back, the gel fires have been lit, the winter duvets are back on the beds and we had our first power cut during the week.
Debrah has enjoyed her first Summer here - let's see if I can get her through the winter months without too much melancholy!
Friday, 24 September 2010
Happy ever after
Last week was all about cooking, cooking and cooking - four dinners in five nights, two in-house at 42rvh and two outside at Chateau Aragon. They were coupled with clients who needed breakfast and who were very keen to be up and out at a decent hour - so it was late nights and early mornings and running on adrenalin for a few days.
Since then it's been a bit quieter - breakfasts all week but only the early mornings and no late nights - a chance to catch-up with chores and a bit of sleep.
On Monday I slept for two hours in the afternoon which is unheard of - I rarely sleep during the day - but I felt so much better for it. No going out, a good cycle ride midweek and lots of thinking about future plans. There isn't really any relaxing because there are always maintenance jobs to be planned and always the 'next big thing' to sort out.
I wouldn't have it any other way though. If I think we can just stand still doing what we do here at 42rvh then we won't stand still at all - we will go backwards. So we have to keep looking for new opportunities to expand and develop what we do, which is why we are cooking for clients at outside holiday rentals and why we are always on the lookout for ways to expand the 42rvh offer.
The outside clients were from the USA and were celebrating a 50th birthday. We cooked three dinners for them over the course of the week, a simple supper on the day they arrived, a four course Summer dinner and a four course Languedoc regional dinner which naturally featured quite a lot of duck. It all went well.
They very kindly gave us a bottle of Syrah that they had dragged all the way from just outside Seattle. I looked it up and it's a good bottle of wine from one of the most respected winemakers in Washington state. What can you say to something like that? - its as if they knew before they arrived that it would be the perfect tip. It is now safely tucked away in the basement cellar waiting the day - whenever that may be.
The in-house guests were equally appreciative. We always have a very soft spot for a young in-love couple of newlyweds like the ones who arrived last Sunday - nearly welled up just looking at them and very much hope that in 20 years time they are still as happy and enthusiastic as they were when I first met them. Bless.
Since then it's been a bit quieter - breakfasts all week but only the early mornings and no late nights - a chance to catch-up with chores and a bit of sleep.
On Monday I slept for two hours in the afternoon which is unheard of - I rarely sleep during the day - but I felt so much better for it. No going out, a good cycle ride midweek and lots of thinking about future plans. There isn't really any relaxing because there are always maintenance jobs to be planned and always the 'next big thing' to sort out.
I wouldn't have it any other way though. If I think we can just stand still doing what we do here at 42rvh then we won't stand still at all - we will go backwards. So we have to keep looking for new opportunities to expand and develop what we do, which is why we are cooking for clients at outside holiday rentals and why we are always on the lookout for ways to expand the 42rvh offer.
The outside clients were from the USA and were celebrating a 50th birthday. We cooked three dinners for them over the course of the week, a simple supper on the day they arrived, a four course Summer dinner and a four course Languedoc regional dinner which naturally featured quite a lot of duck. It all went well.
They very kindly gave us a bottle of Syrah that they had dragged all the way from just outside Seattle. I looked it up and it's a good bottle of wine from one of the most respected winemakers in Washington state. What can you say to something like that? - its as if they knew before they arrived that it would be the perfect tip. It is now safely tucked away in the basement cellar waiting the day - whenever that may be.
The in-house guests were equally appreciative. We always have a very soft spot for a young in-love couple of newlyweds like the ones who arrived last Sunday - nearly welled up just looking at them and very much hope that in 20 years time they are still as happy and enthusiastic as they were when I first met them. Bless.
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Change
You decide that you are going to sell something, let's say a property for instance - so you obviously think I need to get this looking in the best possible condition and take some really good photographs that show it off to it's best and get all the details and information to hand ready to give to any interested potential buyer and employ a pro-active estate agent to act on my behalf who will insist on all the aforementioned things being done.
I can't remember how many properties I have looked at over the past four years but I do know that not one of the owners or agents involved had done any of the above but they had all consistently overpriced the property by at least 40%.
So it was that Debrah and I went to view an interesting property in Carcassonne this week. Ideas and plans and thoughts about how to do things differently and better are always part of our business thinking and it doesn't hurt to go and check some things out from time to time.
It has potential ... but it would have so much more potential if the price was lower and there was a scaled floor plan available and if the whole building wasn't so full of old stuff that you could actually see the fabric of the place, get a feel for the space and not have to climb over things to get from one room to the next. Just pay someone €500 to get all the shit cleared out, repair the roof tiles that have caused the water leak, get the rotten beam fixed cos you know you will have to drop the price for it anyway, take some measurements and make a floor plan. What's wrong with people - it's not that difficult.
We will see - it may be right, it may not, it may have the potential or it may not - it's far too early to say and there are still far too many unknowns. It may well go the way of all the others we have looked at - interesting but not practical or feasible. It may be the start of something new.
The weather finally turned this week and with the kids back to school (rentree) and the start of the harvest (vendange) and a drop in temperature comes a feeling of the end of Summer and the start of Autumn.
Yesterday was grey and dull and drizzly in all senses but today dawned with the bluest of blue skies with the whitest of white clouds scudding across it on a fresh breeze relentlessly pushing on towards the Mediterranean. It was a fabulous Autumn day and hopefully the first of many to come over the next two months. Not cold at all but without the searing 35 degree heat of Summer. The light was clear, not hazy and the air was fresh not sultry. I personally think Autumn is the best time of year to be in the Languedoc - we are not there yet but it is definitely coming.
Having been confined indoors all day yesterday under the grey skies, we decided we should take advantage of a free afternoon and get out of the place - we hadn't been out for a roof down pootle through the Languedoc countryside for ages and the new Audi hadn't been there at all - it was time.
Always inspiring, always breathtaking, always beautiful and always isolated, after just 10 minutes drive out of Carcassonne. The colours are still green but the dark bottle green of late Summer, the vignerons are starting to harvest the white grapes - the red will come in later this month, the roads are empty, the roof is down and the scenery and wildlife is spectacular - it is a wonderful way to escape.
Todays memorable sightings included ponies and horses standing stoically against the irritation of flies and the wind, a feisty mare not wanting to go into a horse box, a magnificent majestic eagle soaring not that far above us as we crested the top of a pass - what a wingspan? - a small group of deer rushing for cover from an open field into the gladed shade of a river, an eccentric black goat, a huge handsome bull in a field of cows and some very large (and some very tiny) fish in the River Lauquet, where we stopped for a walk along the banks in the sunshine.
And yes, it was all very romantic and very beautiful. Life is good.
I can't remember how many properties I have looked at over the past four years but I do know that not one of the owners or agents involved had done any of the above but they had all consistently overpriced the property by at least 40%.
So it was that Debrah and I went to view an interesting property in Carcassonne this week. Ideas and plans and thoughts about how to do things differently and better are always part of our business thinking and it doesn't hurt to go and check some things out from time to time.
It has potential ... but it would have so much more potential if the price was lower and there was a scaled floor plan available and if the whole building wasn't so full of old stuff that you could actually see the fabric of the place, get a feel for the space and not have to climb over things to get from one room to the next. Just pay someone €500 to get all the shit cleared out, repair the roof tiles that have caused the water leak, get the rotten beam fixed cos you know you will have to drop the price for it anyway, take some measurements and make a floor plan. What's wrong with people - it's not that difficult.
We will see - it may be right, it may not, it may have the potential or it may not - it's far too early to say and there are still far too many unknowns. It may well go the way of all the others we have looked at - interesting but not practical or feasible. It may be the start of something new.
The weather finally turned this week and with the kids back to school (rentree) and the start of the harvest (vendange) and a drop in temperature comes a feeling of the end of Summer and the start of Autumn.
Yesterday was grey and dull and drizzly in all senses but today dawned with the bluest of blue skies with the whitest of white clouds scudding across it on a fresh breeze relentlessly pushing on towards the Mediterranean. It was a fabulous Autumn day and hopefully the first of many to come over the next two months. Not cold at all but without the searing 35 degree heat of Summer. The light was clear, not hazy and the air was fresh not sultry. I personally think Autumn is the best time of year to be in the Languedoc - we are not there yet but it is definitely coming.
Having been confined indoors all day yesterday under the grey skies, we decided we should take advantage of a free afternoon and get out of the place - we hadn't been out for a roof down pootle through the Languedoc countryside for ages and the new Audi hadn't been there at all - it was time.
Always inspiring, always breathtaking, always beautiful and always isolated, after just 10 minutes drive out of Carcassonne. The colours are still green but the dark bottle green of late Summer, the vignerons are starting to harvest the white grapes - the red will come in later this month, the roads are empty, the roof is down and the scenery and wildlife is spectacular - it is a wonderful way to escape.
Todays memorable sightings included ponies and horses standing stoically against the irritation of flies and the wind, a feisty mare not wanting to go into a horse box, a magnificent majestic eagle soaring not that far above us as we crested the top of a pass - what a wingspan? - a small group of deer rushing for cover from an open field into the gladed shade of a river, an eccentric black goat, a huge handsome bull in a field of cows and some very large (and some very tiny) fish in the River Lauquet, where we stopped for a walk along the banks in the sunshine.
And yes, it was all very romantic and very beautiful. Life is good.
Monday, 6 September 2010
Networking
The last few days were mostly about networking.
I used to really hate networking in my old life - talking to dull corporate people, who really did give a damn, about the latest accounting standard on acceptable depreciation practices, about the effect of the budget on corporate tax planning, about rights ownership of a squiggle somebody did somewhere, sometime that looks like one somebody else did somewhere at some other time ... Don't get me wrong, I was quite good at it in my own way - but really really interested? - well obviously I became less interested which is why I am now running a stylish and fabulous holiday escape destination in the South of France.
I constantly have to remind Debrah that when I am drinking wine, eating and generally having a lot of fun, that I am in fact networking. It is wholly, exclusively and necessarily for the benefit of my business and as such should be tax deductible.
So it was that last Thursday, International Cabernet Day, I was invited to O'Vineyards, based in Villemousstassou, to sample some local cabernet based wines including their own cabernet franc version. It was a chance to meet some local residents, growers and merchants, to taste some wines, to visit the cellars, to explain what an Englishman is doing in Carcassonne and to hand out a few cards.
Ryan O'Connell of O'Vineyards does a fantastic job of promoting Languedoc wines through his video blog, facebook and twitter and is a huge example to all vignerons (and everyone) of the power of promotion through social media. He and his parents also make some fabulous wines which are getting better with each year - the 09 cabernet tasted direct from the tank has masses of potential and could be their best yet. To see what Ryan gets up to go to http://love-that-languedoc.com.
Ryan was recording events and tweeting during the evening, which is when my car had it's five minutes of fame. I recently bought a new (15 year old) Audi cabriolet to replace my very tired, but faithful, old (18 year old) Audi. (Don't get me started on that - I know it's just a car but we have been through a lot together and I still feel bad about it.) The letters on the still British registration plate of the new car are CAB. I had obviously thought about it as representing cabriolet but it didn't occur to me until Ryan pointed it out that CAB meant CABernet on this day of all days - photo was taken, posting and tweeting ensued and my car became a star for a fleeting moment.
On Saturday we had a visit to 42rvh from Juliet and Sarah of Mr & Mrs Smith - we were added to the collection at the beginning of the year. They were in France for a couple of days looking at potential new listings and had wanted to stay but their enquiry came too late during this busy time of the season - happily we were able to offer them some supper, a chance for Sarah to see the apartments and for Debrah to meet them having missed out on Juliet's initial visit back in February.
Without going into the detail, they were not very enamoured with their overnight accommodation - and we were very happy to offer them a relaxed Sunday morning breakfast at 42rvh followed by a wander around the brocante at La Trivalle - one of the best brocantes of the year here in Carcassonne, always held on the first Sunday of September.
As always, we came away with a little something that we will put down somewhere until we know what we are going to do with it! Debrah picked up some pre-war copies of L'Illustration, a plate dating from the 50's, some big industrial type aluminium light fittings for a future project and Juliet carried off a yellow enamel coffee pot which needed to be stashed in her hand luggage before finding a home on a window sill in North London. I carried and Sarah paid and a good time was had by all. Please come back soon because you know you are always welcome.
Sunday felt like the last fling of high Summer before the slightly more relaxed heat of Autumn. There was a cloudless sky, no air movement and a baking sun. It was no hotter than many other days here this past month but the sun had an intensity that seemed to be saying 'goodbye to 35 degrees' (there were a couple of late afternoon ambulance calls to sufferers of heat exhaustion just to prove the point).
Today was cooler and cloudy and this evening full of rumbling and growling, flashing lightening and stormy rain - this is the Languedoc - dramatic and intense - not a dreary, limp-handshake, warm champagne, credit insurance moment to be had - thank God.
I used to really hate networking in my old life - talking to dull corporate people, who really did give a damn, about the latest accounting standard on acceptable depreciation practices, about the effect of the budget on corporate tax planning, about rights ownership of a squiggle somebody did somewhere, sometime that looks like one somebody else did somewhere at some other time ... Don't get me wrong, I was quite good at it in my own way - but really really interested? - well obviously I became less interested which is why I am now running a stylish and fabulous holiday escape destination in the South of France.
I constantly have to remind Debrah that when I am drinking wine, eating and generally having a lot of fun, that I am in fact networking. It is wholly, exclusively and necessarily for the benefit of my business and as such should be tax deductible.
So it was that last Thursday, International Cabernet Day, I was invited to O'Vineyards, based in Villemousstassou, to sample some local cabernet based wines including their own cabernet franc version. It was a chance to meet some local residents, growers and merchants, to taste some wines, to visit the cellars, to explain what an Englishman is doing in Carcassonne and to hand out a few cards.
Ryan O'Connell of O'Vineyards does a fantastic job of promoting Languedoc wines through his video blog, facebook and twitter and is a huge example to all vignerons (and everyone) of the power of promotion through social media. He and his parents also make some fabulous wines which are getting better with each year - the 09 cabernet tasted direct from the tank has masses of potential and could be their best yet. To see what Ryan gets up to go to http://love-that-languedoc.com.
Ryan was recording events and tweeting during the evening, which is when my car had it's five minutes of fame. I recently bought a new (15 year old) Audi cabriolet to replace my very tired, but faithful, old (18 year old) Audi. (Don't get me started on that - I know it's just a car but we have been through a lot together and I still feel bad about it.) The letters on the still British registration plate of the new car are CAB. I had obviously thought about it as representing cabriolet but it didn't occur to me until Ryan pointed it out that CAB meant CABernet on this day of all days - photo was taken, posting and tweeting ensued and my car became a star for a fleeting moment.
On Saturday we had a visit to 42rvh from Juliet and Sarah of Mr & Mrs Smith - we were added to the collection at the beginning of the year. They were in France for a couple of days looking at potential new listings and had wanted to stay but their enquiry came too late during this busy time of the season - happily we were able to offer them some supper, a chance for Sarah to see the apartments and for Debrah to meet them having missed out on Juliet's initial visit back in February.
Without going into the detail, they were not very enamoured with their overnight accommodation - and we were very happy to offer them a relaxed Sunday morning breakfast at 42rvh followed by a wander around the brocante at La Trivalle - one of the best brocantes of the year here in Carcassonne, always held on the first Sunday of September.
As always, we came away with a little something that we will put down somewhere until we know what we are going to do with it! Debrah picked up some pre-war copies of L'Illustration, a plate dating from the 50's, some big industrial type aluminium light fittings for a future project and Juliet carried off a yellow enamel coffee pot which needed to be stashed in her hand luggage before finding a home on a window sill in North London. I carried and Sarah paid and a good time was had by all. Please come back soon because you know you are always welcome.
Sunday felt like the last fling of high Summer before the slightly more relaxed heat of Autumn. There was a cloudless sky, no air movement and a baking sun. It was no hotter than many other days here this past month but the sun had an intensity that seemed to be saying 'goodbye to 35 degrees' (there were a couple of late afternoon ambulance calls to sufferers of heat exhaustion just to prove the point).
Today was cooler and cloudy and this evening full of rumbling and growling, flashing lightening and stormy rain - this is the Languedoc - dramatic and intense - not a dreary, limp-handshake, warm champagne, credit insurance moment to be had - thank God.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
A new start
So much for my April pronouncement about restarting my blog writing in earnest - six weeks has passed since then without a word being typed here - it's time to get up to date.
Here is the shortened version of events;
- the Winter was spent mostly in London trying to decide where our future lay - that is, was I moving back to London or was Debrah moving out to France?
- it was complicated by Christian moving out and going to college in Falmouth, being unhappy and missing London, Amy finishing college and getting a job in London and moving in with us and stressing out Debrah cos she wasn't Christian and by me not earning very much money for several months when I could have tried a bit harder to find some work.
- we decided to sell our London apartment without knowing any answers and got an offer that we didn't expect and so accepted still without knowing any answers.
- a fabulous few days of weather in France plus some very bizarre signs and pointers from a totally unexpected source convinced us both that our future lay in France (don't ask because I couldn't ever possibly tell anyone what really happened - but well spooky that's for sure)
- the whole London sale thing became a complete nightmare of buyer pulling out on exchange and trying to force the price which he did but he was already paying over the odds so in the end we still got an excellent deal but it was incredibly stressful and annoying to say the very least.
- we officially moved to France on 1st May 2010
- we have been trying to combine two lots of furniture and household effects into one and now have a storage container full of stuff on the edge of town which still needs to be sorted out.
- Debrah is heading back to London every other week for a few days because they insist on paying her good money to do so but she isn't happy about the whole thing so we shall see how long that lasts.
- 42rvh is stacked full of clients in May and June, despite the economic meltdown, the political vacuum in the UK and the mysterious ash cloud which I am convinced is some sort of sinister hoax designed to meltdown the airline industry.
- our recently imported UK Renault got towed last week, because I didn't notice the sign for the brocante the next day, which cost me about 130 euros in total which is very very annoying but a damn sight cheaper than it would have been in London.
- we are both very very happy with our new life in France and very much in love
There you are - what more can I say?
Here is the shortened version of events;
- the Winter was spent mostly in London trying to decide where our future lay - that is, was I moving back to London or was Debrah moving out to France?
- it was complicated by Christian moving out and going to college in Falmouth, being unhappy and missing London, Amy finishing college and getting a job in London and moving in with us and stressing out Debrah cos she wasn't Christian and by me not earning very much money for several months when I could have tried a bit harder to find some work.
- we decided to sell our London apartment without knowing any answers and got an offer that we didn't expect and so accepted still without knowing any answers.
- a fabulous few days of weather in France plus some very bizarre signs and pointers from a totally unexpected source convinced us both that our future lay in France (don't ask because I couldn't ever possibly tell anyone what really happened - but well spooky that's for sure)
- the whole London sale thing became a complete nightmare of buyer pulling out on exchange and trying to force the price which he did but he was already paying over the odds so in the end we still got an excellent deal but it was incredibly stressful and annoying to say the very least.
- we officially moved to France on 1st May 2010
- we have been trying to combine two lots of furniture and household effects into one and now have a storage container full of stuff on the edge of town which still needs to be sorted out.
- Debrah is heading back to London every other week for a few days because they insist on paying her good money to do so but she isn't happy about the whole thing so we shall see how long that lasts.
- 42rvh is stacked full of clients in May and June, despite the economic meltdown, the political vacuum in the UK and the mysterious ash cloud which I am convinced is some sort of sinister hoax designed to meltdown the airline industry.
- our recently imported UK Renault got towed last week, because I didn't notice the sign for the brocante the next day, which cost me about 130 euros in total which is very very annoying but a damn sight cheaper than it would have been in London.
- we are both very very happy with our new life in France and very much in love
There you are - what more can I say?
Friday, 9 April 2010
New Blog Start
My blog writing has become extremely tardy of late but that's because there is so much going on but at the same time nothing is actually confirmed so I don't really want to go public with it all. To hell with that, you might say - this is a blog not a press release and that would be a very valid point of view.
My blog writing has become trapped between saying what is happening and what I feel and how it is and treading a fine line of being publicly and politically correct because somebody might read it and get upset. I am not sure how this state of being came about - many of my past blogs have seriously upset a huge number of people and was I bothered - well yes, but actually no.
I don't think there is any point writing a personal blog unless it is says what you feel, think or believe, even if that be wrong, erroneous or misguided because none of us is perfect, all seeing and knowing or beyond reproach. If we get it wrong then plenty of people will tell us so and that's how it should be and hopefully we learn from those experiences.
Where am I going with this? - not sure really but hopefully tomorrow I will just start writing my blog once more, outlining my everyday experiences and relating what is going on in my life without the censor's pen, political correctness or being over-sensitive about upsetting people (mrs lady wife excepted of course)
My blog writing has become trapped between saying what is happening and what I feel and how it is and treading a fine line of being publicly and politically correct because somebody might read it and get upset. I am not sure how this state of being came about - many of my past blogs have seriously upset a huge number of people and was I bothered - well yes, but actually no.
I don't think there is any point writing a personal blog unless it is says what you feel, think or believe, even if that be wrong, erroneous or misguided because none of us is perfect, all seeing and knowing or beyond reproach. If we get it wrong then plenty of people will tell us so and that's how it should be and hopefully we learn from those experiences.
Where am I going with this? - not sure really but hopefully tomorrow I will just start writing my blog once more, outlining my everyday experiences and relating what is going on in my life without the censor's pen, political correctness or being over-sensitive about upsetting people (mrs lady wife excepted of course)
Monday, 8 March 2010
I don't believe it
What an extraordinary day!
On Saturday I was sat outside Cafe Saillan enjoying some lunch, some wine, some chat with friends and 20 degree heat from a cloudless blue sky. I have the beginnings of a suntan to prove it.
Today, it has snowed incessantly from first light until 6.30pm this evening and dumped a good six inches of the stuff right here in the centre of town. The strong wind meant that the snow was drifting and is considerably deeper in places. I can only imagine what it must be like up in the Haut-Vallee and the Corbieres hills.
The snow warnings were around whilst we soaked up that magical South of France sunshine, one of the main reasons we live here, but you never really believe that it's going to be as bad as predicted - just covering themselves surely.
When I first got up it didn't look that bad - a smattering of snow and just a few flakes falling. A false dawn. It didn't stop snowing though and it was very sticky stuff. I ventured out to the pharmacy and felt like a snowman when I got back.
My departing guests left early on a train for Toulouse. My arriving guests were flying into Toulouse from Hamburg and driving down to Carcassonne. As the hours went by and the snow continued to relentlessly pile up and I had heard nothing from them, I wondered if they would arrive at all. When I heard that the A61 autoroute was blocked I feared the worst.
But sometime after 4pm the doorbell sounded and a very slightly shocked mother and daughter, here to practice French (no point looking at me then), stumbled in from the snow wearing inappropriate shoes. Poor things. It had taken them three to four hours for a journey that should take an hour and a half at most.
There was no point them trying to explore the town or walk up to the castle (I later ventured out to survey the scene - when I got to the old bridge I couldn't even see the Cité for the snow still swirling around in the air) so I persuaded them to take a bunch of dvd's and snuggle up in the safe and warm of their suite for the evening.
Earlier, I had noticed that the tree in the courtyard was looking in a more stressful state as the day developed with the weight of the snow pulling down the branches dangerously low to the ground. Whilst preparing my supper this evening, I heard an almightly crack and swooshing sound and knew what had happened. I rushed to the bedroom window to find a huge branch had come down onto the courtyard, neatly resting next to my snow laden car. I will have to deal with that tomorrow - I just hope the other branches manage to hang on in there.
At least it has now stopped snowing and indeed there are signs that some of the snow is melting. It had better get on with it - I am not sure that I could cope with yet another flight cancellation on Wednesday.
On Saturday I was sat outside Cafe Saillan enjoying some lunch, some wine, some chat with friends and 20 degree heat from a cloudless blue sky. I have the beginnings of a suntan to prove it.
Today, it has snowed incessantly from first light until 6.30pm this evening and dumped a good six inches of the stuff right here in the centre of town. The strong wind meant that the snow was drifting and is considerably deeper in places. I can only imagine what it must be like up in the Haut-Vallee and the Corbieres hills.
The snow warnings were around whilst we soaked up that magical South of France sunshine, one of the main reasons we live here, but you never really believe that it's going to be as bad as predicted - just covering themselves surely.
When I first got up it didn't look that bad - a smattering of snow and just a few flakes falling. A false dawn. It didn't stop snowing though and it was very sticky stuff. I ventured out to the pharmacy and felt like a snowman when I got back.
My departing guests left early on a train for Toulouse. My arriving guests were flying into Toulouse from Hamburg and driving down to Carcassonne. As the hours went by and the snow continued to relentlessly pile up and I had heard nothing from them, I wondered if they would arrive at all. When I heard that the A61 autoroute was blocked I feared the worst.
But sometime after 4pm the doorbell sounded and a very slightly shocked mother and daughter, here to practice French (no point looking at me then), stumbled in from the snow wearing inappropriate shoes. Poor things. It had taken them three to four hours for a journey that should take an hour and a half at most.
There was no point them trying to explore the town or walk up to the castle (I later ventured out to survey the scene - when I got to the old bridge I couldn't even see the Cité for the snow still swirling around in the air) so I persuaded them to take a bunch of dvd's and snuggle up in the safe and warm of their suite for the evening.
Earlier, I had noticed that the tree in the courtyard was looking in a more stressful state as the day developed with the weight of the snow pulling down the branches dangerously low to the ground. Whilst preparing my supper this evening, I heard an almightly crack and swooshing sound and knew what had happened. I rushed to the bedroom window to find a huge branch had come down onto the courtyard, neatly resting next to my snow laden car. I will have to deal with that tomorrow - I just hope the other branches manage to hang on in there.
At least it has now stopped snowing and indeed there are signs that some of the snow is melting. It had better get on with it - I am not sure that I could cope with yet another flight cancellation on Wednesday.
Saturday, 20 February 2010
Hosting and Cooking
The flight was an hour late because of ice and snow at East Midlands but that allowed the morning rain to clear here in Carcassonne - so in the end it worked out just fine for my four new guests yesterday.
They are a jolly bunch, much taken to laughter and joking and having a good time, which is what you expect from guests on a weekend break (we have had some dullards here in the past) so it was a pleasure to spend an hour with them last night over some canapes and cocktails in true 42rvh style.
In fact the canapes had all been devoured by the time I had mixed the drinks, which for me is a compliment - it means they enjoyed them. They were particularly enthusiastic about the beetroot puree and goats cheese which is extra pleasing because it was the first time that I had served that particular combination.
It was drizzling and cold again this morning when I sauntered down to the boulangerie. I haven't had to put a client breakfast tray together since the new year but it all soon fell back into place. As with the canapes the night before, there wasn't a crumb left on the tray when I went to collect it.
By the time I went back to the market the sun was shining out of a cloudless sky - it was so nice to feel some warm-ish sunshine on my face. It is still just a bit early for anything new and springlike in the market and the cold winter won't have helped that - but there were signs that things are about to change - the first artichokes up from Spain and tulips on the flower stalls - but for the most part it is still apples, pears and oranges or cabbages, leeks, carrots and blette. All of it fabulous of course but I am itching to get my hands on some new season produce.
I roasted a piece of beef this evening following a recipe from a new cookbook that Debrah had bought for me at Christmas - the recipe was titled 'Grandma's roast beef' and is one of those traditional French recipes handed down through generations that is classic in it's composition, simplicity itself in the preparation and delicious in it's consumption - without actually doing very much to anything the flavours and textures came together sublimely.
It helps enormously that the beef from M Campaci in Les Halles is some of the best beef I have ever eaten or cooked anywhere. I have written before about the traceability of his meat - not to a herd or a farm but direct to the individual animal that the joint came from. I adore that he always tells me, without me ever asking, exactly how long to cook it for and at what temperature - and it isn't because I am English and he thinks I don't know how to cook because he tells the 90 year old grannies just the same and they have probably been cooking beef joints since before he was born. It's just what he does as a true artisan of his trade and I love it.
It was a shame that I didn't have anyone to share it with me and I will be eating the rest of the beef all next week, but I won't hesitate to cook it again, will definitely do it for Debrah and would have no hesitation serving it to guests. A success.
They are a jolly bunch, much taken to laughter and joking and having a good time, which is what you expect from guests on a weekend break (we have had some dullards here in the past) so it was a pleasure to spend an hour with them last night over some canapes and cocktails in true 42rvh style.
In fact the canapes had all been devoured by the time I had mixed the drinks, which for me is a compliment - it means they enjoyed them. They were particularly enthusiastic about the beetroot puree and goats cheese which is extra pleasing because it was the first time that I had served that particular combination.
It was drizzling and cold again this morning when I sauntered down to the boulangerie. I haven't had to put a client breakfast tray together since the new year but it all soon fell back into place. As with the canapes the night before, there wasn't a crumb left on the tray when I went to collect it.
By the time I went back to the market the sun was shining out of a cloudless sky - it was so nice to feel some warm-ish sunshine on my face. It is still just a bit early for anything new and springlike in the market and the cold winter won't have helped that - but there were signs that things are about to change - the first artichokes up from Spain and tulips on the flower stalls - but for the most part it is still apples, pears and oranges or cabbages, leeks, carrots and blette. All of it fabulous of course but I am itching to get my hands on some new season produce.
I roasted a piece of beef this evening following a recipe from a new cookbook that Debrah had bought for me at Christmas - the recipe was titled 'Grandma's roast beef' and is one of those traditional French recipes handed down through generations that is classic in it's composition, simplicity itself in the preparation and delicious in it's consumption - without actually doing very much to anything the flavours and textures came together sublimely.
It helps enormously that the beef from M Campaci in Les Halles is some of the best beef I have ever eaten or cooked anywhere. I have written before about the traceability of his meat - not to a herd or a farm but direct to the individual animal that the joint came from. I adore that he always tells me, without me ever asking, exactly how long to cook it for and at what temperature - and it isn't because I am English and he thinks I don't know how to cook because he tells the 90 year old grannies just the same and they have probably been cooking beef joints since before he was born. It's just what he does as a true artisan of his trade and I love it.
It was a shame that I didn't have anyone to share it with me and I will be eating the rest of the beef all next week, but I won't hesitate to cook it again, will definitely do it for Debrah and would have no hesitation serving it to guests. A success.
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Travel
The plane landed on schedule at exactly 2.15 pm, which meant that we were all subjected to the ridiculous Ryanair fanfare of smugness that announces an on time flight arrival. Annoyingly it was the only thing about my journey to France that was predictable.
My bus, yes I did say bus, changed it's destination half way through the journey to Tottenham Hale Station - so that it terminated at Tottenham Town Hall, which is a good half mile short of where I wanted to be to catch the Stansted Express to the airport. Bit of a discussion with the driver ensued along the lines of I'm not paying again for the last half mile. To his credit he was sympathetic to my concerns and issued me a transfer ticket for the no 41 that was coming up very soon behind us - who knew they had such things or that public transport personnel actually gave a damn in this day and age (don't get me started on the 'let's have a few days off at the drop of a hat for no good reason' tube drivers).
A ten minute delay and a sprint from the bus to the platform to just catch the train. Phew. No time to buy a paper, or a ticket for that matter but it's only a 45 minute 'Express' journey and the guard would be along to take fares no doubt. Wrong in every respect. The train pottered along at barely walking speed for most of the way, taking 20 minutes longer than it should have done and no-one appeared to make me buy a ticket - just someone rather half-heartedly trying to persuade me to buy a coffee type drink. Er, no thank you.
I negotiated security without problem and just as I was about to be enticed by shopping opportunities that I could ill afford, the gate number popped up on the screen for my flight - I decided to head straight over to gate 44 and parked myself near the front of the non-priority queue. Ten minutes on and there weren't that many people at the gate which is a bit unusual - except if the gate number has been changed on the main boards but not announced on the tannoy - the rest of the passengers were happily assembled at gate 42. When the announcement finally came there was a fair amount of course anglo-saxon uttered in the vicinity of gate 44 which I cannot repeat here.
Remarkably I still managed to get a seat on the front row in the plane and figured I'd be out of the airport and home before most people had collected their bags. Perhaps not. When I last flew to London the front steps on the plane malfunctioned and I had to wait for everybody else to get off from the back door before I could disembark - what are the chances of that happening on consecutive flights? I have no idea but that's exactly what occured. How very very tedious.
My good friend David was at the airport to collect me, which was very kind of him - he was so busy chatting away about what had (not) been going on in Carcassonne in my absence that he drove, on auto-pilot, off towards his house rather than mine - which just about summed up my whole journey.
My bus, yes I did say bus, changed it's destination half way through the journey to Tottenham Hale Station - so that it terminated at Tottenham Town Hall, which is a good half mile short of where I wanted to be to catch the Stansted Express to the airport. Bit of a discussion with the driver ensued along the lines of I'm not paying again for the last half mile. To his credit he was sympathetic to my concerns and issued me a transfer ticket for the no 41 that was coming up very soon behind us - who knew they had such things or that public transport personnel actually gave a damn in this day and age (don't get me started on the 'let's have a few days off at the drop of a hat for no good reason' tube drivers).
A ten minute delay and a sprint from the bus to the platform to just catch the train. Phew. No time to buy a paper, or a ticket for that matter but it's only a 45 minute 'Express' journey and the guard would be along to take fares no doubt. Wrong in every respect. The train pottered along at barely walking speed for most of the way, taking 20 minutes longer than it should have done and no-one appeared to make me buy a ticket - just someone rather half-heartedly trying to persuade me to buy a coffee type drink. Er, no thank you.
I negotiated security without problem and just as I was about to be enticed by shopping opportunities that I could ill afford, the gate number popped up on the screen for my flight - I decided to head straight over to gate 44 and parked myself near the front of the non-priority queue. Ten minutes on and there weren't that many people at the gate which is a bit unusual - except if the gate number has been changed on the main boards but not announced on the tannoy - the rest of the passengers were happily assembled at gate 42. When the announcement finally came there was a fair amount of course anglo-saxon uttered in the vicinity of gate 44 which I cannot repeat here.
Remarkably I still managed to get a seat on the front row in the plane and figured I'd be out of the airport and home before most people had collected their bags. Perhaps not. When I last flew to London the front steps on the plane malfunctioned and I had to wait for everybody else to get off from the back door before I could disembark - what are the chances of that happening on consecutive flights? I have no idea but that's exactly what occured. How very very tedious.
My good friend David was at the airport to collect me, which was very kind of him - he was so busy chatting away about what had (not) been going on in Carcassonne in my absence that he drove, on auto-pilot, off towards his house rather than mine - which just about summed up my whole journey.
Monday, 25 January 2010
Surprise visit
I am back in Carcassonne - for four nights only - so don't miss it.
Actually nobody knows I am here so all my local friends will probably miss it. Although that's not strictly 100% true because Claire knows I am here. Claire had been briefed to handle the client check-in tomorrow but my sudden arrival here at short notice means that I will now look after that myself. Claire is the only person here that I have told about my trip over, but I suspect that others may well also know by now.
Not that anyone has been in touch. I'm not sure if I am relaxed about that or a bit upset. I have made no effort to contact anyone else so I have to be relaxed about it really.
Brigitte knows I am here too - she saw the shutters open and the lights on and rang the doorbell this evening when she got back from work. We have a meeting of the co-propriete on Wednesday. She is the President and she was very serious when she spoke to me about the meeting and the agenda - we have to do something about the noisy tenants and the cleaning. I agree - get a cleaner and make the tenants move out - if only it were that simple - this being France I suspect much discussion and a lot of paperwork will be needed to implement anything at all and even then we probably won't notice the difference. There will be much debate and everyone will get a chance to say what they think (after all, I am living in the last bastion of socialism in Europe) after which we will all agree to do nothing for now and continue as we were before.
She looked at me as if to say "I am just a woman - it is very ard (there are no h's in french) for me to deal wiz zis". Well my French is nowhere near good enough for me to deal wiz zis so I will be voting to re-elect you as president for another year. You will 'ave my full backing.
My trip out here was indeed very short notice. I came out for a meeting today which went very well indeed - and that's all I am going to say about that for the time being.
It's really good to have something positive to (not) talk about because the last two weeks in London haven't been great. What is it about January that brings everyone down and brings everything in life to a head. As long as I can remember the leaden grey skies of a new year in London have always caused trouble. It's almost as if the oppressiveness is designed to make us re-examine what we are doing and what we have done and whether we should have done it differently and whether we should now be thinking and acting anew.
It is nothing to do with new years resolutions- they are the equivalent of the lookout on the Titanic spotting an iceberg ahead - jolly good intentions but not going to make a lot of difference when the real problem is the design of the ship in the first place.
January makes us ask the most searching and fundamental questions about what we are doing and why, what we have done and why and what are we going to do next.
Crikey - I've definitely spent too long in France - far too philosophical for my own good.
Actually I did make a new year resolution to continue my exercise regime but to cut down on my alcohol intake. After my crazy discovery of cycling last year my exercise regime over the last month has been rubbish, so I have failed badly on that front, but at the same time I have been very smugly not drinking during the week - who would have thought?
The net result is that I don't really feel any healthier at all - just very very tired.
Actually nobody knows I am here so all my local friends will probably miss it. Although that's not strictly 100% true because Claire knows I am here. Claire had been briefed to handle the client check-in tomorrow but my sudden arrival here at short notice means that I will now look after that myself. Claire is the only person here that I have told about my trip over, but I suspect that others may well also know by now.
Not that anyone has been in touch. I'm not sure if I am relaxed about that or a bit upset. I have made no effort to contact anyone else so I have to be relaxed about it really.
Brigitte knows I am here too - she saw the shutters open and the lights on and rang the doorbell this evening when she got back from work. We have a meeting of the co-propriete on Wednesday. She is the President and she was very serious when she spoke to me about the meeting and the agenda - we have to do something about the noisy tenants and the cleaning. I agree - get a cleaner and make the tenants move out - if only it were that simple - this being France I suspect much discussion and a lot of paperwork will be needed to implement anything at all and even then we probably won't notice the difference. There will be much debate and everyone will get a chance to say what they think (after all, I am living in the last bastion of socialism in Europe) after which we will all agree to do nothing for now and continue as we were before.
She looked at me as if to say "I am just a woman - it is very ard (there are no h's in french) for me to deal wiz zis". Well my French is nowhere near good enough for me to deal wiz zis so I will be voting to re-elect you as president for another year. You will 'ave my full backing.
My trip out here was indeed very short notice. I came out for a meeting today which went very well indeed - and that's all I am going to say about that for the time being.
It's really good to have something positive to (not) talk about because the last two weeks in London haven't been great. What is it about January that brings everyone down and brings everything in life to a head. As long as I can remember the leaden grey skies of a new year in London have always caused trouble. It's almost as if the oppressiveness is designed to make us re-examine what we are doing and what we have done and whether we should have done it differently and whether we should now be thinking and acting anew.
It is nothing to do with new years resolutions- they are the equivalent of the lookout on the Titanic spotting an iceberg ahead - jolly good intentions but not going to make a lot of difference when the real problem is the design of the ship in the first place.
January makes us ask the most searching and fundamental questions about what we are doing and why, what we have done and why and what are we going to do next.
Crikey - I've definitely spent too long in France - far too philosophical for my own good.
Actually I did make a new year resolution to continue my exercise regime but to cut down on my alcohol intake. After my crazy discovery of cycling last year my exercise regime over the last month has been rubbish, so I have failed badly on that front, but at the same time I have been very smugly not drinking during the week - who would have thought?
The net result is that I don't really feel any healthier at all - just very very tired.
Monday, 11 January 2010
It's definitely cancelled
Travel, snow, travel, snow, travel, snow - that has been the theme of the Christmas and New Year period. I know I wasn't the only one affected but this is my blog, so my experience is what matters.
Christian was due to fly back to London last Wednesday, before heading back to Falmouth at the weekend. As the snow started coming down again in the UK in buckets we were glued to our computer screens trying to understand whether his flight was going to come or not.
My past experience of the Ryanair website is that it is notoriously slow to update so I switched to the BAA Stansted Airport website which seemed to be giving real time information. Christian's flight was due in at 2.15 and at about midday it was shown as cancelled on the BAA site. We decided to jump in the car and get to the airport to rearrange his flight before the majority of the passengers had arrived. Airport visit number one.
The lady at the information desk said that it wasn't cancelled. I said that it was. She went off to telephone Ryanair and came back with that classic French shrug. It is not yet cancelled she said so we couldn't yet transfer the flight - and with that she and all other staff disappeared.
What to do? Believing the cancellation imminent we chose to hang about and grab some lunch in the airport restaurant. It has never been a good experience and it was no different this time - rude staff and very average food. We regularly popped back downstairs to be met with no staff and nothing on the so called information screen.
Then out of the blue there was an announcement for Stansted passengers to check in their bags. I went to investigate and was told that the outbound flight had indeed been cancelled but that they were arranging for another plane. Okay. I dashed back home with Christian, collected his stuff, took him back to the airport, said our goodbyes and headed home. Airport visit number two.
Debrah and I were going to visit our mates at Chateau Rigaud for a few days on our way back to London and so had our own packing to do and closing up of 42rvh for the next six weeks or so. We had been home no longer than 15 minutes when Christian called - the flight had just been cancelled after getting everyone's hopes up and checking them all in through security - how cruel was that. I went back to collect a thoroughly morose and despondent Christian who seemed to think that the world had just ended. Airport visit number three.
Again the question - What to do? Rebook for Carcassonne and leave him behind, rebook for somewhere else and drop him off or take him with us to Bordeaux and then London? The thought of a twelve hour car journey seemed to tip Christian over the edge altogether - the most absurb overreaction I have ever seen - frankly I didn't relish the prospect if he was going to continue to be that miserable for the next three days - but with no idea when an airport might open again in the UK we had no option. Thankfully the stress (!) of it all had tired him out and he slept all the way to Bordeaux and awoke in a jollier mood.
On Thursday morning we explored all options in both France and the UK and found a flight from Bergerac to Southampton, which seemed to be open and operating. Goodbyes once more and I drove him to Bergerac with about an hour to spare before the flight and showed him where to check-in. As I left I hoped I wouldn't see him for another two months - when he's back from college - you know what I mean. Airport visit number four.
If we hadn't been able to get him away we would have driven back to London on the Friday, but the plane came and he went and arrived safely in Southampton and then London by train. And relax - it's always great to see Anna and Aib and we had a nice lunch out in a deserted St Emilion and talked about plans and dreams for the future whilst sampling a few local wines.
A breakfast time start was planned for Saturday. As I pulled back the curtains I looked out upon the glorious lawns of Chateau Rigaud covered in an inch of pristine white snow. Bugger. We ventured out but the roads were well slippy and 20 mph was the top speed attained - that combined with the forecasts from Northern France and the UK was enough for us to change our travel plans once again. We stayed another night.
With Debrah due back at work on Monday morning we could delay no longer. We left and 12 hours later we arrived - in London - hurrah. The roads were pretty much clear all the way and finally it all went to plan.
I think we might just stay put for a while.
Christian was due to fly back to London last Wednesday, before heading back to Falmouth at the weekend. As the snow started coming down again in the UK in buckets we were glued to our computer screens trying to understand whether his flight was going to come or not.
My past experience of the Ryanair website is that it is notoriously slow to update so I switched to the BAA Stansted Airport website which seemed to be giving real time information. Christian's flight was due in at 2.15 and at about midday it was shown as cancelled on the BAA site. We decided to jump in the car and get to the airport to rearrange his flight before the majority of the passengers had arrived. Airport visit number one.
The lady at the information desk said that it wasn't cancelled. I said that it was. She went off to telephone Ryanair and came back with that classic French shrug. It is not yet cancelled she said so we couldn't yet transfer the flight - and with that she and all other staff disappeared.
What to do? Believing the cancellation imminent we chose to hang about and grab some lunch in the airport restaurant. It has never been a good experience and it was no different this time - rude staff and very average food. We regularly popped back downstairs to be met with no staff and nothing on the so called information screen.
Then out of the blue there was an announcement for Stansted passengers to check in their bags. I went to investigate and was told that the outbound flight had indeed been cancelled but that they were arranging for another plane. Okay. I dashed back home with Christian, collected his stuff, took him back to the airport, said our goodbyes and headed home. Airport visit number two.
Debrah and I were going to visit our mates at Chateau Rigaud for a few days on our way back to London and so had our own packing to do and closing up of 42rvh for the next six weeks or so. We had been home no longer than 15 minutes when Christian called - the flight had just been cancelled after getting everyone's hopes up and checking them all in through security - how cruel was that. I went back to collect a thoroughly morose and despondent Christian who seemed to think that the world had just ended. Airport visit number three.
Again the question - What to do? Rebook for Carcassonne and leave him behind, rebook for somewhere else and drop him off or take him with us to Bordeaux and then London? The thought of a twelve hour car journey seemed to tip Christian over the edge altogether - the most absurb overreaction I have ever seen - frankly I didn't relish the prospect if he was going to continue to be that miserable for the next three days - but with no idea when an airport might open again in the UK we had no option. Thankfully the stress (!) of it all had tired him out and he slept all the way to Bordeaux and awoke in a jollier mood.
On Thursday morning we explored all options in both France and the UK and found a flight from Bergerac to Southampton, which seemed to be open and operating. Goodbyes once more and I drove him to Bergerac with about an hour to spare before the flight and showed him where to check-in. As I left I hoped I wouldn't see him for another two months - when he's back from college - you know what I mean. Airport visit number four.
If we hadn't been able to get him away we would have driven back to London on the Friday, but the plane came and he went and arrived safely in Southampton and then London by train. And relax - it's always great to see Anna and Aib and we had a nice lunch out in a deserted St Emilion and talked about plans and dreams for the future whilst sampling a few local wines.
A breakfast time start was planned for Saturday. As I pulled back the curtains I looked out upon the glorious lawns of Chateau Rigaud covered in an inch of pristine white snow. Bugger. We ventured out but the roads were well slippy and 20 mph was the top speed attained - that combined with the forecasts from Northern France and the UK was enough for us to change our travel plans once again. We stayed another night.
With Debrah due back at work on Monday morning we could delay no longer. We left and 12 hours later we arrived - in London - hurrah. The roads were pretty much clear all the way and finally it all went to plan.
I think we might just stay put for a while.
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
Welcome to 2010
It's a new blog year and I have already been pretty tardy in getting back into the swing of letting you all know what has been going on - so first things first, Happy New Year to all of you who kindly take the time to follow my ramblings here on the blogosphere.
As always at this time of year, there has been a lot of reflection and a lot of new thinking about the twelve months to come - and, as ever with a seasonally based business, a whole lot of paranoia about whether anyone is actually going to make a booking or not for our fabulous luxury apartments here in Carcassonne at 42rvh.
I get the same feeling every January and this is no different. The upside is that it spurs you into action on all the things that you have been meaning to do and vaguely thinking about during the last year whilst you were too busy to do anything about them - like new business ideas and updating the website and not getting pissed off about the people moving into your territory and copying/ripping off everything that you have been doing - the nerve of some people.
I guess that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and that is how I am going to deal with it - we must have been doing something right these past two years here at 42rvh or we wouldn't be being copied. I will embrace them all and see how best we can all work to our mutual benefit - I really mean that - there is no point holding grudges or developing enemies. It is also true that no business ever survived by standing still, so we have to evolve and that is what we have been turning our attention to over the past few days.
The website is undergoing a major overhaul to freshen it up and to include our new thinking about what our clients want for 2010 and beyond. As ever, it is part based on feedback, part based on evolution and part total guesswork with our fingers crossed that we are right. It's not ready yet but soon.
In the meantime, our New Year guests have departed, having enjoyed a fabulous five course dinner here at 42rvh on their last night. The minute they departed on Saturday morning I was dashing up to the airport to collect Christian, my poor overworked student stepson who looked like he hadn't slept for about a week.
I love him to bits but we always have our stepfather/stepson issues to resolve for a couple of days before we settle down to liking each other quite a lot - by which time we have always fallen out with my wife/his Mum - aaaarrrrggghhhh.
Anyway, he went to sleep for about 48 hours now that he was back in the company of grown-ups and Debrah and I had a delightful evening with Fabian and Nathalie. They are quite the most delightful French people we know and our only real French friends - because they are very chic, very enlightened, very stylish and completely lovely in all respects. They won't read this but I would be very happy if they did.
Sadly, the weather has been anything but exciting and apart from our beach picnic day it has been grey and damp and cold and pretty miserable, which hasn't helped anybody's mood.
We all need to just hang on in there through the January melancholy.
As always at this time of year, there has been a lot of reflection and a lot of new thinking about the twelve months to come - and, as ever with a seasonally based business, a whole lot of paranoia about whether anyone is actually going to make a booking or not for our fabulous luxury apartments here in Carcassonne at 42rvh.
I get the same feeling every January and this is no different. The upside is that it spurs you into action on all the things that you have been meaning to do and vaguely thinking about during the last year whilst you were too busy to do anything about them - like new business ideas and updating the website and not getting pissed off about the people moving into your territory and copying/ripping off everything that you have been doing - the nerve of some people.
I guess that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and that is how I am going to deal with it - we must have been doing something right these past two years here at 42rvh or we wouldn't be being copied. I will embrace them all and see how best we can all work to our mutual benefit - I really mean that - there is no point holding grudges or developing enemies. It is also true that no business ever survived by standing still, so we have to evolve and that is what we have been turning our attention to over the past few days.
The website is undergoing a major overhaul to freshen it up and to include our new thinking about what our clients want for 2010 and beyond. As ever, it is part based on feedback, part based on evolution and part total guesswork with our fingers crossed that we are right. It's not ready yet but soon.
In the meantime, our New Year guests have departed, having enjoyed a fabulous five course dinner here at 42rvh on their last night. The minute they departed on Saturday morning I was dashing up to the airport to collect Christian, my poor overworked student stepson who looked like he hadn't slept for about a week.
I love him to bits but we always have our stepfather/stepson issues to resolve for a couple of days before we settle down to liking each other quite a lot - by which time we have always fallen out with my wife/his Mum - aaaarrrrggghhhh.
Anyway, he went to sleep for about 48 hours now that he was back in the company of grown-ups and Debrah and I had a delightful evening with Fabian and Nathalie. They are quite the most delightful French people we know and our only real French friends - because they are very chic, very enlightened, very stylish and completely lovely in all respects. They won't read this but I would be very happy if they did.
Sadly, the weather has been anything but exciting and apart from our beach picnic day it has been grey and damp and cold and pretty miserable, which hasn't helped anybody's mood.
We all need to just hang on in there through the January melancholy.
Thursday, 31 December 2009
Wine Tour
The new guests arrived on Tuesday evening - two couples from the UK travelling together. We settled them in with some canapes and a glass or two of wine and then sent them off for some dinner at Cote Ferme, the restaurant of the delicatessen, La Ferme. The feedback was good which is always a relief.
The next morning I had to get myself back into breakfast mode again, not having put a client breakfast tray together for nearly two months.
The guests are a booking through Wendy Gedney, who organises wine tours in the Languedoc. Several clients went on her tours during the year and they all had a great time, so we decided to go out with her and the clients yesterday to experience one of her tours for ourselves.
We started off at Domaine de Cabezan, just outside Villegailhenc in the Cabardes region. This is a very new operation. Clement Mongus and his family moved here from the Alsace and have set out to create a lifestyle business for themselves with the vineyard and four gites and his wife's teaching job - any one element on it's own would not be enough to support them.
We tasted a rosé and four reds - two vin de pays and two AOC wines. They were good to varying degrees but not good enough for us to be tempted to buy any.
From there we headed to Lastours for lunch at Puits des Tresors, which frankly was a bit disappointing. The restaurant has a Michelin star although I was told that service can be very slow (even by French standards). We ate in the newish cafe and partook of the €18 fixed menu - the food quality and the service was rubbish.
Our next stop was at a truffle farm and olive oil producer, Le Mazet de la Clamoux. On the slopes opposite the entrance to the Gouffre de Cabrespine sits a small unpretentious little house surrounded by olive and oak trees. It is here that Sandra and Olivier Galibert run their little operation. I say little - apart from the 11 hectares on this site he also has 30 hectares of vines in the Minervois which keep him busy and she has a special needs teaching job. It seems that everyone does more than one thing round here to make a living.
The real star of the truffling though was the dog - who gave us a demonstration of her unique skills by locating four truffles in next to no time as we wandered up the slopes amongst the oaks.
Afterwards we tasted truffle butter and olives and wine and then Olivier produced his homemade Carthagene, the local aperitif, and his Walnut wine , also fortified - both excellent, both dangerous. We bought some of his wonderful cold pressed olive oil.
The last stop, by now after dark and under the light of a near full moon, was at Chateau de Rieux in Rieux-Minervois where Emmanuel de Soos was waiting to show us around his cellar and his wines. We tasted a delicious Viognier (and bought a case) as well as his two top of the range reds (both excellent). I will be visiting him again during the year to take some of his wine boxes which will be just perfect for use at 42rvh.
It was well past seven when we got back - a very full and interesting day out and justified my faith in Wendy and her tours.
The next morning I had to get myself back into breakfast mode again, not having put a client breakfast tray together for nearly two months.
The guests are a booking through Wendy Gedney, who organises wine tours in the Languedoc. Several clients went on her tours during the year and they all had a great time, so we decided to go out with her and the clients yesterday to experience one of her tours for ourselves.
We started off at Domaine de Cabezan, just outside Villegailhenc in the Cabardes region. This is a very new operation. Clement Mongus and his family moved here from the Alsace and have set out to create a lifestyle business for themselves with the vineyard and four gites and his wife's teaching job - any one element on it's own would not be enough to support them.
We tasted a rosé and four reds - two vin de pays and two AOC wines. They were good to varying degrees but not good enough for us to be tempted to buy any.
From there we headed to Lastours for lunch at Puits des Tresors, which frankly was a bit disappointing. The restaurant has a Michelin star although I was told that service can be very slow (even by French standards). We ate in the newish cafe and partook of the €18 fixed menu - the food quality and the service was rubbish.
Our next stop was at a truffle farm and olive oil producer, Le Mazet de la Clamoux. On the slopes opposite the entrance to the Gouffre de Cabrespine sits a small unpretentious little house surrounded by olive and oak trees. It is here that Sandra and Olivier Galibert run their little operation. I say little - apart from the 11 hectares on this site he also has 30 hectares of vines in the Minervois which keep him busy and she has a special needs teaching job. It seems that everyone does more than one thing round here to make a living.
The real star of the truffling though was the dog - who gave us a demonstration of her unique skills by locating four truffles in next to no time as we wandered up the slopes amongst the oaks.
Afterwards we tasted truffle butter and olives and wine and then Olivier produced his homemade Carthagene, the local aperitif, and his Walnut wine , also fortified - both excellent, both dangerous. We bought some of his wonderful cold pressed olive oil.
The last stop, by now after dark and under the light of a near full moon, was at Chateau de Rieux in Rieux-Minervois where Emmanuel de Soos was waiting to show us around his cellar and his wines. We tasted a delicious Viognier (and bought a case) as well as his two top of the range reds (both excellent). I will be visiting him again during the year to take some of his wine boxes which will be just perfect for use at 42rvh.
It was well past seven when we got back - a very full and interesting day out and justified my faith in Wendy and her tours.
Wednesday, 30 December 2009
Gluttons
It has been a quiet Christmas here at 42rvh - just me and Debrah indulging ourselves in food, wine and movies.
Debrah requested some food deliciousness and I was very happy to oblige. We started on Christmas Eve, went all through Christmas Day and didn't finish until Boxing Day because the proposed culinary line-up was just too much to fit into one sitting, even an elongated one.
We had some great wine too and for once not all local.
We finally ventured out the day after when a burst of Winter sunshine tempted us down to the coast for a walk along the beach. Of course we took a picnic along with us in a wicker hamper and sat contentedly munching sat on a beachfront bench at La Franqui, just next to Leucate. The Mediterranean looked cold but that didn't deter a couple of wind surfers or the many and varied dogs chasing about the sand.
It was back to work on Monday with much cleaning, ironing and general preparation for a group of four clients arriving for a four night stay over New Year. I can't complain - their trip has paid for all the lovely food and wine.
Here is a rundown of our self-indulgence.
Christmas Eve
- A dozen local oysters, red wine vinegar and shallot dressing or oriental dressing (rice wine vinegar, mirin, soy and coriander)
- Boiled Lobster with Simon Hopkinson's sauce for a boiled lobster (naturally) and watercress, baby chard and mizuna salad (there was a bit of bonding with Henri the Homard during the day but they are a bit impractical as a pet so in the pan he had to go)
Greca di Tufo and Fiano di Avellino, Terredora, Campagnia, Italy
Debrah chose both the wines back in London and they proved to be the perfect accompaniment to the seafood supper.
Christmas Day
- Home marinated salmon with dill and the remains of the lobster sauce which is in fact a sort of mustard mayonnaise and went perfectly with the salmon (so good in fact we are going to serve it to guests later this week)
- Tartare of mackerel with pickled cucumber and citrus cream (skinning and boning the fish is the only fiddly bit - the rest is easy to prepare and the combination of flavours is wonderful)
with both these course we polished off the remains of the Italian whites from the night before
- Chicken Liver Parfait (my day at Corrigans put to good effect - it worked a treat but maybe could have had an extra 5 minutes in the bain marie - deliciously rich and yummy though)
- Potato, Celeriac and Truffle Oil Soup (probably a bit odd to have soup at this juncture but the it's earthiness and creaminess was a perfect link between the lighter first courses and the ones to follow)
- Pigeon in Muscat with grapes (just the one bird between the two of us - we were pacing ourselves - and D isn't a great fan of game but this worked so well with the sweetness of the wine cutting through the richness of the bird - a veritable success)
La Chapelle, St Jacques D'Albas, Minervois 2004
- Braised Pheasant in pimenton and cream sauce (this was a step too far for D who isn't mad about cream sauces either - oh well, I liked it but I should have known better)
Ledogar, Domaine Grand Lauze 2004, Vin de Table, Corbieres
Boxing Day
- Pan fried scallops, boudin noir and quince (wow! - for me this was the best dish I cooked all Christmas - fantastic flavour combination helped enormously by the wine..)
Condrieu, Guigal, 2005
- Fillet steak poached in red wine with potato puree (this was good but we both agreed that as good as it was we prefer our steak pan fried and the potato didn't work as well as the celeriac puree that should have gone with this dish - we used the celeriac for something else next day)
L'Hospitalis, La Clape, Georges Bertrand 2005
- Sauternes & Olive Oil cake with bitter orange ice cream (it was supposed to be sauternes but I can't be that profligate so I made the cake with a Muscat de Rivesaltes instead - the ice cream is good and very easy to make)
Beach picnic - what a feast
- boiled and roast ham (make one every Christmas and only at Christmas for some strange reason - just delicious - can't beat it)
- celeriac remoulade (with capers and gherkins and mustardy dressing for extra kick)
- avocado and radish salad
- duck liver pate
- left over cold pheasant
- quails eggs
- baguette
no wine - bit of a shock I know but I was driving
Debrah requested some food deliciousness and I was very happy to oblige. We started on Christmas Eve, went all through Christmas Day and didn't finish until Boxing Day because the proposed culinary line-up was just too much to fit into one sitting, even an elongated one.
We had some great wine too and for once not all local.
We finally ventured out the day after when a burst of Winter sunshine tempted us down to the coast for a walk along the beach. Of course we took a picnic along with us in a wicker hamper and sat contentedly munching sat on a beachfront bench at La Franqui, just next to Leucate. The Mediterranean looked cold but that didn't deter a couple of wind surfers or the many and varied dogs chasing about the sand.
It was back to work on Monday with much cleaning, ironing and general preparation for a group of four clients arriving for a four night stay over New Year. I can't complain - their trip has paid for all the lovely food and wine.
Here is a rundown of our self-indulgence.
Christmas Eve
- A dozen local oysters, red wine vinegar and shallot dressing or oriental dressing (rice wine vinegar, mirin, soy and coriander)
- Boiled Lobster with Simon Hopkinson's sauce for a boiled lobster (naturally) and watercress, baby chard and mizuna salad (there was a bit of bonding with Henri the Homard during the day but they are a bit impractical as a pet so in the pan he had to go)
Greca di Tufo and Fiano di Avellino, Terredora, Campagnia, Italy
Debrah chose both the wines back in London and they proved to be the perfect accompaniment to the seafood supper.
Christmas Day
- Home marinated salmon with dill and the remains of the lobster sauce which is in fact a sort of mustard mayonnaise and went perfectly with the salmon (so good in fact we are going to serve it to guests later this week)
- Tartare of mackerel with pickled cucumber and citrus cream (skinning and boning the fish is the only fiddly bit - the rest is easy to prepare and the combination of flavours is wonderful)
with both these course we polished off the remains of the Italian whites from the night before
- Chicken Liver Parfait (my day at Corrigans put to good effect - it worked a treat but maybe could have had an extra 5 minutes in the bain marie - deliciously rich and yummy though)
- Potato, Celeriac and Truffle Oil Soup (probably a bit odd to have soup at this juncture but the it's earthiness and creaminess was a perfect link between the lighter first courses and the ones to follow)
- Pigeon in Muscat with grapes (just the one bird between the two of us - we were pacing ourselves - and D isn't a great fan of game but this worked so well with the sweetness of the wine cutting through the richness of the bird - a veritable success)
La Chapelle, St Jacques D'Albas, Minervois 2004
- Braised Pheasant in pimenton and cream sauce (this was a step too far for D who isn't mad about cream sauces either - oh well, I liked it but I should have known better)
Ledogar, Domaine Grand Lauze 2004, Vin de Table, Corbieres
Boxing Day
- Pan fried scallops, boudin noir and quince (wow! - for me this was the best dish I cooked all Christmas - fantastic flavour combination helped enormously by the wine..)
Condrieu, Guigal, 2005
- Fillet steak poached in red wine with potato puree (this was good but we both agreed that as good as it was we prefer our steak pan fried and the potato didn't work as well as the celeriac puree that should have gone with this dish - we used the celeriac for something else next day)
L'Hospitalis, La Clape, Georges Bertrand 2005
- Sauternes & Olive Oil cake with bitter orange ice cream (it was supposed to be sauternes but I can't be that profligate so I made the cake with a Muscat de Rivesaltes instead - the ice cream is good and very easy to make)
Beach picnic - what a feast
- boiled and roast ham (make one every Christmas and only at Christmas for some strange reason - just delicious - can't beat it)
- celeriac remoulade (with capers and gherkins and mustardy dressing for extra kick)
- avocado and radish salad
- duck liver pate
- left over cold pheasant
- quails eggs
- baguette
no wine - bit of a shock I know but I was driving
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
There and back
Well I did make it to London and I have made it back to Carcassonne again, but there have been many moments over the past few days when in my heart I really felt it wasn't going to happen.
My four hour door to door everything goes right perfect trip from Carcassonne to London took double that time on Sunday but I'm not complaining because the journey actually took place rather than being cancelled once more. In fact it took two days and four hours from my original departure date last Friday.
It was a gorgeous sunny Sunday morning but it had been a bitterly cold night and ice on the runway was the major concern. The first two flights of the day were diverted to Perpignan but at least the passengers were bussed down there to get their flight. The plane from Stansted was delayed which turned out to be a major blessing - the extra time allowed the sun to do it's work on the runway and in mid-afternoon the airport at Carcassonne was declared open and my flight became the first to arrive for three days. It was a relief to finally get back to London.
Debrah had a big client presentation on Monday and wanted to be in work early, so I took the opportunity to drop her into London at 8am and head off to my parents in Sussex to make up a little bit for missing them at the weekend. The roads were mostly clear and I was down there in no time - the quickest journey there for many a year.
My Mum hadn't been out since Friday because of the snow so jumped at the opportunity to come with me to the supermarket and get some more supplies, there being more bad weather forecast. I said we should stick to the main roads but not knowing the way I relied on her directions which started taking us a bit off-piste so to speak. We were very lucky to get away with one downhill icy approach to a junction - a gentle dab on the brakes and I knew immediately that we would not be able to stop and so sailed straight out and onto the main road where there was more traction. I silently thanked my lucky stars that there was no traffic at that moment whilst playing the whole thing down for my mother's benefit.
We came back on the main road all the way!
The journey home to London was a nightmare. I left straight after lunch, aware of the weather warning - initail rain turned to snow and then a blizzard but the traffic kept moving but slower and slower and slower until it finally came to a halt at the top of Brixton Hill - it then took me 2 hours to cover the five miles from Brixton to Borough (if that far) and then it took us a further three and half hours to get from Debrah's office to home - normally a 30 minute journey. All in all it took me 7 hours to cover the 50 miles from Sussex back to Hornsey.
Fastest journey time going out - slowest coming back. There was no point getting upset about it - there was nothing anyone could have done to make it any better. Despite the moaning Middle Englanders on the TV the next day complaining about the lack of warning, the lack of information and the national disgrace of our inability to cope, the reality was that a warning was issued, the roads were gritted, people were driving sensibly and I saw many instances of fantastic public spirit and stoicism as passers-by helped those skidding, falling off bikes, falling over and in general need of assistance. The snow just overwhelmed the system. We sat motionless for over an hour in traffic and saw no road rage or bad temper - just a resignation as to the situation whilst the police dealt with broken down buses and blocked roads and whatever else was thrown at them.
And whilst all this went on the Eurostar problems had created problems for Eurotunnel. we had a reservation for this morning but for a couple of days it was very unclear whether it would be honoured or not.
Despite more warnings about icy roads and freezing temperatures, in the end we had the smoothest journey one could hope for from London to Calais and then on to our Carca home - so what if we left at 2am and arrived at 5pm - we got here and now we can finally start to relax and enjoy the festive season.
My four hour door to door everything goes right perfect trip from Carcassonne to London took double that time on Sunday but I'm not complaining because the journey actually took place rather than being cancelled once more. In fact it took two days and four hours from my original departure date last Friday.
It was a gorgeous sunny Sunday morning but it had been a bitterly cold night and ice on the runway was the major concern. The first two flights of the day were diverted to Perpignan but at least the passengers were bussed down there to get their flight. The plane from Stansted was delayed which turned out to be a major blessing - the extra time allowed the sun to do it's work on the runway and in mid-afternoon the airport at Carcassonne was declared open and my flight became the first to arrive for three days. It was a relief to finally get back to London.
Debrah had a big client presentation on Monday and wanted to be in work early, so I took the opportunity to drop her into London at 8am and head off to my parents in Sussex to make up a little bit for missing them at the weekend. The roads were mostly clear and I was down there in no time - the quickest journey there for many a year.
My Mum hadn't been out since Friday because of the snow so jumped at the opportunity to come with me to the supermarket and get some more supplies, there being more bad weather forecast. I said we should stick to the main roads but not knowing the way I relied on her directions which started taking us a bit off-piste so to speak. We were very lucky to get away with one downhill icy approach to a junction - a gentle dab on the brakes and I knew immediately that we would not be able to stop and so sailed straight out and onto the main road where there was more traction. I silently thanked my lucky stars that there was no traffic at that moment whilst playing the whole thing down for my mother's benefit.
We came back on the main road all the way!
The journey home to London was a nightmare. I left straight after lunch, aware of the weather warning - initail rain turned to snow and then a blizzard but the traffic kept moving but slower and slower and slower until it finally came to a halt at the top of Brixton Hill - it then took me 2 hours to cover the five miles from Brixton to Borough (if that far) and then it took us a further three and half hours to get from Debrah's office to home - normally a 30 minute journey. All in all it took me 7 hours to cover the 50 miles from Sussex back to Hornsey.
Fastest journey time going out - slowest coming back. There was no point getting upset about it - there was nothing anyone could have done to make it any better. Despite the moaning Middle Englanders on the TV the next day complaining about the lack of warning, the lack of information and the national disgrace of our inability to cope, the reality was that a warning was issued, the roads were gritted, people were driving sensibly and I saw many instances of fantastic public spirit and stoicism as passers-by helped those skidding, falling off bikes, falling over and in general need of assistance. The snow just overwhelmed the system. We sat motionless for over an hour in traffic and saw no road rage or bad temper - just a resignation as to the situation whilst the police dealt with broken down buses and blocked roads and whatever else was thrown at them.
And whilst all this went on the Eurostar problems had created problems for Eurotunnel. we had a reservation for this morning but for a couple of days it was very unclear whether it would be honoured or not.
Despite more warnings about icy roads and freezing temperatures, in the end we had the smoothest journey one could hope for from London to Calais and then on to our Carca home - so what if we left at 2am and arrived at 5pm - we got here and now we can finally start to relax and enjoy the festive season.
Saturday, 19 December 2009
Making the most of it
I was determined to make the most of my unexpected, unplanned and unwanted extra day in Carcassonne, although it was still far too cold first thing in the morning to contemplate rushing out of bed.
By mid-morning the sun had made a welcome appearance and I ventured out - hmm - the quid pro quo for the sun bonus was a biting bitter wind that cut straight through you. My mind was constantly thinking about that runway up at the airport - sun good, cold wind bad.
For the past three years I have bought a Christmas tree from the same stallholder at the Saturday market and remarkably she remembered me straight away when I got down there today. "Ah Monsieur", she said. "Un grand sapin pour vous". She was right. I always buy one of her biggest trees because I want to make the most of our 4m high ceiling and she always tries to tell me it will be €50 for that one because it is special and she has been saving it for me and I tell her that that's bollocks and I'm only paying €40 for this one here which is better. (We don't actually say that of course because her English is rubbish and my French is just as bad but that is what we both mean with our limited words and sign language).
As I leave with the tree hoisted on my shoulder ready to take out the eye of any careless passer-by she is probably cursing me as an English cheapskate whilst I am thinking 'I wasn't born yesterday, love'. Anyway, she got her sale and I got my tree - so we were both happy.
At the meat market M Devillechabrol, the purveyor of the best confit de canard in town, was initially amused to see me again but was rapidly put in his place when Mme Devillechabrol pointed out that it wasn't at all funny that my flight had been cancelled yesterday. Bless them both for actually being interested.
By midday I realised that I hadn't eaten anything so the call from Bob was most welcome and I hurried down to the Longchamps to meet him and David and for the menu of the day which was a hearty onion soup and a plate of sauerkraut - warming, filling and ultimately windy.
I spent the afternoon and late evening in the kitchen preparing some advance goodies for Christmas and in between I took the opportunity to visit 'O' Vineyard in Villemoussetassou. I had first met the owners at the truffle fair in Moussellens back in January this year, some of my guests had visited during the year and then through a series of chance meetings and twitter contacts and blogs we were back in contact again. They were holding an open evening today which I thought I was going to miss but as it turned out I had the opportunity to visit.
Ryan's video blog of visits to vineyards in the Languedoc Roussillon region is well worth a look if you are at all interested in wine - it's very quirky but vignerons seem to open up to him more because of it. It's a new take on wine promotion and let's face it, most French vineyards in this region are rubbish at promoting themselves. Go to love-that-languedoc.com to have a look.
Dishearteningly, when I left the vineyard there was a fresh layer of snow on the ground and a slow steady snowfall has continued all evening - not serious enough to stop me driving home without a problem but I suspect with a heavy heart that it might just stop me getting back to London tomorrow. We shall see.
By mid-morning the sun had made a welcome appearance and I ventured out - hmm - the quid pro quo for the sun bonus was a biting bitter wind that cut straight through you. My mind was constantly thinking about that runway up at the airport - sun good, cold wind bad.
For the past three years I have bought a Christmas tree from the same stallholder at the Saturday market and remarkably she remembered me straight away when I got down there today. "Ah Monsieur", she said. "Un grand sapin pour vous". She was right. I always buy one of her biggest trees because I want to make the most of our 4m high ceiling and she always tries to tell me it will be €50 for that one because it is special and she has been saving it for me and I tell her that that's bollocks and I'm only paying €40 for this one here which is better. (We don't actually say that of course because her English is rubbish and my French is just as bad but that is what we both mean with our limited words and sign language).
As I leave with the tree hoisted on my shoulder ready to take out the eye of any careless passer-by she is probably cursing me as an English cheapskate whilst I am thinking 'I wasn't born yesterday, love'. Anyway, she got her sale and I got my tree - so we were both happy.
At the meat market M Devillechabrol, the purveyor of the best confit de canard in town, was initially amused to see me again but was rapidly put in his place when Mme Devillechabrol pointed out that it wasn't at all funny that my flight had been cancelled yesterday. Bless them both for actually being interested.
By midday I realised that I hadn't eaten anything so the call from Bob was most welcome and I hurried down to the Longchamps to meet him and David and for the menu of the day which was a hearty onion soup and a plate of sauerkraut - warming, filling and ultimately windy.
I spent the afternoon and late evening in the kitchen preparing some advance goodies for Christmas and in between I took the opportunity to visit 'O' Vineyard in Villemoussetassou. I had first met the owners at the truffle fair in Moussellens back in January this year, some of my guests had visited during the year and then through a series of chance meetings and twitter contacts and blogs we were back in contact again. They were holding an open evening today which I thought I was going to miss but as it turned out I had the opportunity to visit.
Ryan's video blog of visits to vineyards in the Languedoc Roussillon region is well worth a look if you are at all interested in wine - it's very quirky but vignerons seem to open up to him more because of it. It's a new take on wine promotion and let's face it, most French vineyards in this region are rubbish at promoting themselves. Go to love-that-languedoc.com to have a look.
Dishearteningly, when I left the vineyard there was a fresh layer of snow on the ground and a slow steady snowfall has continued all evening - not serious enough to stop me driving home without a problem but I suspect with a heavy heart that it might just stop me getting back to London tomorrow. We shall see.
Friday, 18 December 2009
Snow fun
When I pulled open the curtains this morning it was snowing. Not the sleety wet snow that we had here last Monday but proper white stuff that was already beginning to blanket my car parked in the courtyard below.
Normally I would be quite excited about a bit of snow - there is still a childhood pleasure in stomping about in it and throwing the odd snowball - but not on a day when you want to catch a flight.
I had a dreadful sense of foreboding.
I remembered Debrah saying that snow was also forecast for London, so logged onto the BBC to find the words weather, snow, chaos, travel and don't prominently displayed. Damn.
I spent the morning monitoring the situation on various websites, the best of which was the Stansted airport site which gave very real time information about each scheduled flight and it's status. From that I knew that Stansted was open but there were inevitable delays and the Carcassonne flight was still scheduled to leave at some point.
The Ryanair site continued to list the flight as 'ON TIME' well past the scheduled departure time - useless.
So the plane would get here late - well that's fair enough given the conditions and everybody would have accepted that if that was the extent of the problem. The problem was in fact at Carcassonne airport.
It snowed for two hours here and at least two inches fell in town very rapidly but it just as rapidly started to disappear when the sun emerged at lunchtime. When I went up to the airport the roads were clear. I tried to reassure myself that they would have gritted and snowploughed the runway and all would be well.
Some chance.
Carcassonne airport does not have any snow clearing facilities and presumably couldn't call for any help because the local ones were all busy elsewhere. A snowplough, a snowplough, my kingdom for a snowplough.
There was an awful lot of shoulder shrugging going on.
So the East Midlands flight - the first of the day - went to Perpignan. It appears that the only three available coaches were commandeered to take the passengers for that flight down there.
The Dublin flight also went to Perpignan but with no more coaches the return flight was cancelled.
The Stansted flight found its way to Beziers. It was inevitable that the return, my flight back to Stansted, was going to be cancelled. We all knew it was going to be cancelled but until it is officially cancelled one cannot book another flight without paying again.
So we waited and they made us wait until late afternoon before finally confirming what we all knew all along.
Resignedly, I made my way back to 42rvh and turned the heating on again and opened a couple of shutters to let a bit of light in. I managed to get myself on the Sunday flight, the Saturday one being already full with people trying to get back to Dublin - the nerve.
So instead of having a nice hot supper ready for Debrah when she gets home from work tonight we will both be eating on our own again. The weekend plan had been to visit Debrah's mum in Kent and my parents in Sussex - so that will all have to be re-arranged although I suspect, given the snow in the SE of the UK, we might not have been able to go anyway.
And there is freezing weather forecast for here for the next two days - let's hope that snow isn't sat on that runway still come Sunday lunchtime or I will not be quite so sanguine about the whole thing.
Normally I would be quite excited about a bit of snow - there is still a childhood pleasure in stomping about in it and throwing the odd snowball - but not on a day when you want to catch a flight.
I had a dreadful sense of foreboding.
I remembered Debrah saying that snow was also forecast for London, so logged onto the BBC to find the words weather, snow, chaos, travel and don't prominently displayed. Damn.
I spent the morning monitoring the situation on various websites, the best of which was the Stansted airport site which gave very real time information about each scheduled flight and it's status. From that I knew that Stansted was open but there were inevitable delays and the Carcassonne flight was still scheduled to leave at some point.
The Ryanair site continued to list the flight as 'ON TIME' well past the scheduled departure time - useless.
So the plane would get here late - well that's fair enough given the conditions and everybody would have accepted that if that was the extent of the problem. The problem was in fact at Carcassonne airport.
It snowed for two hours here and at least two inches fell in town very rapidly but it just as rapidly started to disappear when the sun emerged at lunchtime. When I went up to the airport the roads were clear. I tried to reassure myself that they would have gritted and snowploughed the runway and all would be well.
Some chance.
Carcassonne airport does not have any snow clearing facilities and presumably couldn't call for any help because the local ones were all busy elsewhere. A snowplough, a snowplough, my kingdom for a snowplough.
There was an awful lot of shoulder shrugging going on.
So the East Midlands flight - the first of the day - went to Perpignan. It appears that the only three available coaches were commandeered to take the passengers for that flight down there.
The Dublin flight also went to Perpignan but with no more coaches the return flight was cancelled.
The Stansted flight found its way to Beziers. It was inevitable that the return, my flight back to Stansted, was going to be cancelled. We all knew it was going to be cancelled but until it is officially cancelled one cannot book another flight without paying again.
So we waited and they made us wait until late afternoon before finally confirming what we all knew all along.
Resignedly, I made my way back to 42rvh and turned the heating on again and opened a couple of shutters to let a bit of light in. I managed to get myself on the Sunday flight, the Saturday one being already full with people trying to get back to Dublin - the nerve.
So instead of having a nice hot supper ready for Debrah when she gets home from work tonight we will both be eating on our own again. The weekend plan had been to visit Debrah's mum in Kent and my parents in Sussex - so that will all have to be re-arranged although I suspect, given the snow in the SE of the UK, we might not have been able to go anyway.
And there is freezing weather forecast for here for the next two days - let's hope that snow isn't sat on that runway still come Sunday lunchtime or I will not be quite so sanguine about the whole thing.
Thursday, 17 December 2009
Cosy Courgettes
A clear sky makes all the difference to the day. There was sunshine through the bedroom window, eventually, when it had crept up over the rooftops and there was a glorious hour of sunshine through the kitchen window at lunchtime.
The clear sky meant that it was a colder morning than the last few days - minus four seems to be the general consensus and although I know it will have been colder elsewhere in France it was cold enough thank you very much.
You know it's really cold, as opposed to just cold, when the market stallholders start covering up their vegetables, as they did today. It's slightly odd - 'here is my stall but I have covered everything up so you can't see what it is I am selling' and in true French style some of them are not that helpful when you ask either - "have you got any leeks", I asked, "Yes", was the reply without moving or offering to show me under which particular cover they were hiding. Reminded me of the classic Inspector Clouseau line - does your dog bite? - minimal information and nothing more.
Thankfully they are not all like that and the stallholders I have got to know after four years of working the market are more than happy to show me their tucked up pears and nestled down spinach. It is quite a sweet thought that they love their fruit and veg so much that they tuck them into bed on a very cold morning - they look after them like their own - it is their living after all.
I also did a huge supermarket shop this morning. The plan was to get everything we might need, except last minute fresh food, sorted out in advance because we won't get back down here until late on the 23rd. It was a good plan but as always with shopping I have already thought of several things I didn't pick up - we are driving down next week so maybe I will get them in London and bring coals to France so to speak.
After much deliberation I have managed to narrow down my list of potential recipes for Christmas to about 40 which is just as well because tomorrow morning before I leave for London I intend to place the orders for the fish, shellfish and meat that I will need to make a splendid feast my my beloved one.
No pressure then - let's hope I get it right.
The clear sky meant that it was a colder morning than the last few days - minus four seems to be the general consensus and although I know it will have been colder elsewhere in France it was cold enough thank you very much.
You know it's really cold, as opposed to just cold, when the market stallholders start covering up their vegetables, as they did today. It's slightly odd - 'here is my stall but I have covered everything up so you can't see what it is I am selling' and in true French style some of them are not that helpful when you ask either - "have you got any leeks", I asked, "Yes", was the reply without moving or offering to show me under which particular cover they were hiding. Reminded me of the classic Inspector Clouseau line - does your dog bite? - minimal information and nothing more.
Thankfully they are not all like that and the stallholders I have got to know after four years of working the market are more than happy to show me their tucked up pears and nestled down spinach. It is quite a sweet thought that they love their fruit and veg so much that they tuck them into bed on a very cold morning - they look after them like their own - it is their living after all.
I also did a huge supermarket shop this morning. The plan was to get everything we might need, except last minute fresh food, sorted out in advance because we won't get back down here until late on the 23rd. It was a good plan but as always with shopping I have already thought of several things I didn't pick up - we are driving down next week so maybe I will get them in London and bring coals to France so to speak.
After much deliberation I have managed to narrow down my list of potential recipes for Christmas to about 40 which is just as well because tomorrow morning before I leave for London I intend to place the orders for the fish, shellfish and meat that I will need to make a splendid feast my my beloved one.
No pressure then - let's hope I get it right.
Wednesday, 16 December 2009
Getting Christmassy
I have been trawling through my numerous cookbooks looking for Christmas inspiration and have only succeeded in confusing myself enormously. I must have earmarked about 200 different recipes to try but have still not decided on what to cook for our Christmas dinner - which this year will just be the two of us hiding at home, eating, drinking and watching movies!
My short trip out here neatly bisects the Saturday market and I will also head back to London before the Foire au Gras this weekend. The Tuesday market was a bit of a disappointment with very few stallholders braving the freezing weather and not much on offer in the meat and fish market either - I guess they are all saving up for next weeks stampede.
It was so cold that when I came back in my face was tingling for a good 15 minutes. I decided that I needed a hat of some sort so went back to town later and went completely overboard on a (fake) fur lined hat that comes right down over my ears - so much better - I have even taken to wearing it indoors but have drawn the line at keeping it on in bed.
The first Christmas cards arrived today - my Mum and Dad are always quick off the mark and spelled Debrah's name correctly for the first time in about 10 years - there was a card from Domaine Gayda, no doubt hoping I will continue to send guests their way next year - and finally one from the Anglican church in Limoux listing all the times of the Christmas services. I have never been there and I don't know how they got my name and address but top marks for effort in reminding us all what the forthcoming celebrations are really all about.
A completely unrelated celebration was the first anniversary of the opening of The Celt pub. It was the usual mix of Irish folk music, various games in which worthless prizes could be won and slightly too much alcohol. I came home, eventually, with the same amount of money that I started the night with because all the drinks, for me anyway, were on the house - which was nice.
A dull head and the chilly air would have kept me in bed this morning but I had arranged to meet Cecile for a coffee at ten.
This afternoon I went to look at another pile of stones in need of much loving care - this pile was near Moux which is about halfway between Carcassonne and Narbonne. It dates back to the 13th century but is now just four walls overgrown with ivy - no roof, no floor, no doors or windows. There is about 5000sqm of land with some syrah vines that could produce about 3000 litres of wine - but the aspect is wrong and the nearby railway and main road are the things that weren't shown or mentioned on the details. It's probably not for us.
There was plenty of snow on the Alairic mountains and the Montagne Noire and I presume on the Pyrenees too, but it was too cloudy to see that far. As it normally is, the weather was a bit better as I headed east towards the sea and I even saw some sunshine after the unrelenting grey cloud and cold wind of Carcassonne for the last three days.
Swine flu or H1N1 or 'la grippe' finally appears to have arrived in the town too since I was last here. Tom from the bar has had it and Louis, Cecile's son, was off school for a bit and two schools have been closed for ten days or so because of the number of cases. Vaccination seems to be progressing here as it is in the UK - just all keep out of my way please - the last thing I want is a holiday illness.
My short trip out here neatly bisects the Saturday market and I will also head back to London before the Foire au Gras this weekend. The Tuesday market was a bit of a disappointment with very few stallholders braving the freezing weather and not much on offer in the meat and fish market either - I guess they are all saving up for next weeks stampede.
It was so cold that when I came back in my face was tingling for a good 15 minutes. I decided that I needed a hat of some sort so went back to town later and went completely overboard on a (fake) fur lined hat that comes right down over my ears - so much better - I have even taken to wearing it indoors but have drawn the line at keeping it on in bed.
The first Christmas cards arrived today - my Mum and Dad are always quick off the mark and spelled Debrah's name correctly for the first time in about 10 years - there was a card from Domaine Gayda, no doubt hoping I will continue to send guests their way next year - and finally one from the Anglican church in Limoux listing all the times of the Christmas services. I have never been there and I don't know how they got my name and address but top marks for effort in reminding us all what the forthcoming celebrations are really all about.
A completely unrelated celebration was the first anniversary of the opening of The Celt pub. It was the usual mix of Irish folk music, various games in which worthless prizes could be won and slightly too much alcohol. I came home, eventually, with the same amount of money that I started the night with because all the drinks, for me anyway, were on the house - which was nice.
A dull head and the chilly air would have kept me in bed this morning but I had arranged to meet Cecile for a coffee at ten.
This afternoon I went to look at another pile of stones in need of much loving care - this pile was near Moux which is about halfway between Carcassonne and Narbonne. It dates back to the 13th century but is now just four walls overgrown with ivy - no roof, no floor, no doors or windows. There is about 5000sqm of land with some syrah vines that could produce about 3000 litres of wine - but the aspect is wrong and the nearby railway and main road are the things that weren't shown or mentioned on the details. It's probably not for us.
There was plenty of snow on the Alairic mountains and the Montagne Noire and I presume on the Pyrenees too, but it was too cloudy to see that far. As it normally is, the weather was a bit better as I headed east towards the sea and I even saw some sunshine after the unrelenting grey cloud and cold wind of Carcassonne for the last three days.
Swine flu or H1N1 or 'la grippe' finally appears to have arrived in the town too since I was last here. Tom from the bar has had it and Louis, Cecile's son, was off school for a bit and two schools have been closed for ten days or so because of the number of cases. Vaccination seems to be progressing here as it is in the UK - just all keep out of my way please - the last thing I want is a holiday illness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
