I arrived back in France today to grey skies and, now, torrential rain - not seen in these parts for a goodly number of weeks. In fact I am told that the weather has been good here until today - sorry everyone.
It has been a quite intense couple of weeks of celebrations and nearly two weeks since I had paying guests here. I have to admit that it feels like even longer and it took me a little while this afternoon to get my head back into gear. I have new guests arriving tomorrow and their room is now sorted and ready.
There were guests in the suites whilst I was in the UK, staying on a self-catering basis. Claire did a great job of looking after them and has even done all the washing from the midweek changeovers - not the ironing though - that jolly job awaits me tomorrow.
My mother's 80th birthday weekend went as well as a family get-together can go and was a lot better than some we have had in the past. Everyone was very relaxed, apart from my Mum, and there were relatives present that I haven't seen for at least 10 years. Naturally everyone was looking a lot older or had in fact just grown up from being a child and turned into a young adult.
Before all that kicked off on Saturday, we managed to celebrate Debrah's birthday. We stayed at West Stoke House near Chichester and had a great dinner with lots of good wines. It is a restaurant with rooms so the food and wine is excellent - but the rooms are lovely too. I would describe the atmosphere as calm Englishness and highly recommend it.
The proprietor used to work at BBH, the very same advertising agency that I once worked for. Our paths never crossed then but they have now. Bizarrely, the owners weren't there last weekend - they were staying with another ex-BBHer in Provence. Roslyn runs a similar business to this at Le Paradis near Orange. She is one of our best friends. Small world indeed.
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Wet Feet
After my weekend exertions up a mountain it was back to the weekday routine of guests checking out, room changes, laundry, ironing and new guest arrivals.
My new guests arrived today on the first flight on the new Edinburgh to Carcassonne route. Unfortunately, they had typical Scottish weather to welcome them - grey skies and a constant drizzle - most un-Languedoc like.
As I drove up to the airport I was reminded that I needed new windscreen wipers for the car - because the old ones were doing such a bad job of giving me any decent visibility. So this afternoon I ventured out to 'Feu Vert' to invest in some shiny new car parts and I can now see the road again.
The rain also found a way into my feet. I knew that one pair of shoes had worn through the soles and that others were summer shoes and not at all meant for using in water, but I thought that my black boots were sound - how wrong I was. I have come to the conclusion that they were put under too much strain over the rocks and sand in Sweden and sadly they have succumbed to the wear and tear of the last two years. It seems that I need to go shoe shopping, which isn't something that I usually readily admit to.
Of course, being a useless man when it comes to this sort of stuff, I will wait for Debrah to arrive to help the process along - she is so much more experienced at shoe shopping than I will ever be.
My new guests arrived today on the first flight on the new Edinburgh to Carcassonne route. Unfortunately, they had typical Scottish weather to welcome them - grey skies and a constant drizzle - most un-Languedoc like.
As I drove up to the airport I was reminded that I needed new windscreen wipers for the car - because the old ones were doing such a bad job of giving me any decent visibility. So this afternoon I ventured out to 'Feu Vert' to invest in some shiny new car parts and I can now see the road again.
The rain also found a way into my feet. I knew that one pair of shoes had worn through the soles and that others were summer shoes and not at all meant for using in water, but I thought that my black boots were sound - how wrong I was. I have come to the conclusion that they were put under too much strain over the rocks and sand in Sweden and sadly they have succumbed to the wear and tear of the last two years. It seems that I need to go shoe shopping, which isn't something that I usually readily admit to.
Of course, being a useless man when it comes to this sort of stuff, I will wait for Debrah to arrive to help the process along - she is so much more experienced at shoe shopping than I will ever be.
Thursday, 6 November 2008
Rain and Reign
Debrah was supposed to go back to London yesterday but fate intervened.
The rain has continued here unabated for three days now and was probably a factor in the car battery being flat when I was supposed to be taking Debrah to the airport for her flight. It was certainly a factor in there being no taxis available immediately, and as we had left our departure until the last minute as ever, we had no room for manouevre.
We retreated back inside resigned to it all and lost a crucial fifteen minutes before I discovered that the flight was running 30 minutes late. I rushed upstairs to Denis' apartment and grabbed the garage keys and we rushed up to the airport in Denis' car. The plane was just landing as we got there, but it was all to no avail - as far as they were concerned we were late for the flight and they had closed the gate and they weren't going to let Debrah on the flight despite the fact she had checked in online and only had hand baggage and despite there being plenty of time for her to go through security and join the back of the queue at the gate (one plane, one gate, twenty metres from security to the gate, lots of people stood about doing nothing - but no go).
I don't know if it was Ryanair policy or Carcassonne airport policy or both but it wasn't a good advert for either of them. We accept that we were late but so was the flight coming in - seems that Ryanair are allowed to be late without consequence (I'm sure there was a good reason) but passengers get no leeway despite also having a good reason and despite it all being easily feasible for Debrah to have joined the flight in good time. Maybe they are only really interested in charging the £75 fee for re-booking than in actually getting people onto the flights they have already paid for.
Actually none of all that surprised me - I've always known that the whole system is geared towards the benefit of the provider of the service and not the person paying for the service - surely it should be the other way around.
The reason that all the above is relevant, and is not just a diatribe, is that we have been discussing the service that we provide here at 42rvh to our paying customers. The debate is centred around whether we give too much for too little cost or not - i.e. should we be going out of our way to provide the best possible experience at all times, no matter the inconvenience, for our guests or should we draw the line somewhere and downgrade what we do or charge extra for certain things.
I make it sound very black and white but it's nothing of the sort and not as extreme as the picture painted, but it is still difficult to decide how we move on next year in continuing to develop the business and the services we will provide and what cost we should charge for them, especially given the economic situation.
In it's barest form the equation is easy - we want to provide as good a service as possible at a price people can afford that also generates a profit. Can we do all three? I hope so.
In the meantime, the relentless wet weather, the unexpected bonus of Debrah being here longer than expected and no guests to worry about has resulted in us getting thoroughly absorbed in the BBC mini-series of the Tudors - all long leather boots, bare chests, loose morals, double dealing and intrigue - and a history lesson too, your grace, my lord, your majesty!
The rain has continued here unabated for three days now and was probably a factor in the car battery being flat when I was supposed to be taking Debrah to the airport for her flight. It was certainly a factor in there being no taxis available immediately, and as we had left our departure until the last minute as ever, we had no room for manouevre.
We retreated back inside resigned to it all and lost a crucial fifteen minutes before I discovered that the flight was running 30 minutes late. I rushed upstairs to Denis' apartment and grabbed the garage keys and we rushed up to the airport in Denis' car. The plane was just landing as we got there, but it was all to no avail - as far as they were concerned we were late for the flight and they had closed the gate and they weren't going to let Debrah on the flight despite the fact she had checked in online and only had hand baggage and despite there being plenty of time for her to go through security and join the back of the queue at the gate (one plane, one gate, twenty metres from security to the gate, lots of people stood about doing nothing - but no go).
I don't know if it was Ryanair policy or Carcassonne airport policy or both but it wasn't a good advert for either of them. We accept that we were late but so was the flight coming in - seems that Ryanair are allowed to be late without consequence (I'm sure there was a good reason) but passengers get no leeway despite also having a good reason and despite it all being easily feasible for Debrah to have joined the flight in good time. Maybe they are only really interested in charging the £75 fee for re-booking than in actually getting people onto the flights they have already paid for.
Actually none of all that surprised me - I've always known that the whole system is geared towards the benefit of the provider of the service and not the person paying for the service - surely it should be the other way around.
The reason that all the above is relevant, and is not just a diatribe, is that we have been discussing the service that we provide here at 42rvh to our paying customers. The debate is centred around whether we give too much for too little cost or not - i.e. should we be going out of our way to provide the best possible experience at all times, no matter the inconvenience, for our guests or should we draw the line somewhere and downgrade what we do or charge extra for certain things.
I make it sound very black and white but it's nothing of the sort and not as extreme as the picture painted, but it is still difficult to decide how we move on next year in continuing to develop the business and the services we will provide and what cost we should charge for them, especially given the economic situation.
In it's barest form the equation is easy - we want to provide as good a service as possible at a price people can afford that also generates a profit. Can we do all three? I hope so.
In the meantime, the relentless wet weather, the unexpected bonus of Debrah being here longer than expected and no guests to worry about has resulted in us getting thoroughly absorbed in the BBC mini-series of the Tudors - all long leather boots, bare chests, loose morals, double dealing and intrigue - and a history lesson too, your grace, my lord, your majesty!
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
Weird and Strange
What a horrible, horrible day. It rained and rained. There was thunder and lightning and a flood in the courtyard and a strange eerie yellow daylight for most of the morning.
Martin and family left early to get the train to Arles at 7.45am. I packed the luggage in the car and drove it to the station whilst they walked, via the boulangerie en route to collect some breakfast for the journey. By the time they got to the station they were soaked, poor things, but they were on their way to Arles and then Provence and hopefully some sunshine.
At least they had a good day yesterday and were able to explore La Cité in some unexpected (the forecast had been dire) sunshine. Today, however, the direness of the forecast was exactly spot-on. I retreated from the station to home and got on with my chores. Debrah and Christian went out to the market for supplies - then the air turned a yellowy-grey and the rain got harder - then it got even harder so that there was a river running down the street - then it got so hard that the drain in the courtyard couldn't cope and a flood ensued and there was a torrent running down the street and out of every drainpipe and cascading off the gutters that couldn't cope either.
The light was very very wierd. It was the sort of half light, slightly silvery, that you might get at dawn or during an eclipse and it was a bit spooky. We had all the lights on in the house because it was so dim and still the light was strange.
Poor Debrah and Christian returned soaked from above and below - despite riding out the worst of the storm in the safety of Bar Felix. I went down to the courtyard and poked a large piece of old copper pipe into the drain until the water started to run away (never throw away what might seem like useless bits of old junk cos you never know when they might come in useful!)
An hour later the whole episode repeated itself - strange light, enormous downpour, torrents of water - but at least no courtyard flood, due to my copper pipe action. Whilst not reaching the weirdness levels of the morning, the rain continued throughout the day in a relentless and depressing way.
Completely out of the blue, I got an email this morning from the son of the surgeon who sold the apartments to us, Monsieur D'Arzac. He wanted to book a room for his sister and her boyfriend - the same room that she had lived in for 10 years and which we have now converted into our Studio suite - now that seems a bit weird and spooky too. I found out that M. D'Arzac performed the surgery on a friend of mine here who needed a knee replacement and I had given him one of our cards to show him what we had done with the place - maybe that was how the whole thing came about. Well, I will happily put her up for a night and have invited them all to come and look at the transformation of their old living quarters.
Then Debrah gave Christian some post that she had brought with her from the UK - it turned out to be an invite to his dad's forthcoming wedding. The date is 16th August, which also happens to be the date that Debrah and I got married twelve years ago. How weird is that - both of Christians parents will have re-married on exactly the same date! - the most bizarre of coincidences.
I am now going to bed. I hope to have an ordinary night's sleep and wake up to a very ordinary and normal day .... but then again?
Martin and family left early to get the train to Arles at 7.45am. I packed the luggage in the car and drove it to the station whilst they walked, via the boulangerie en route to collect some breakfast for the journey. By the time they got to the station they were soaked, poor things, but they were on their way to Arles and then Provence and hopefully some sunshine.
At least they had a good day yesterday and were able to explore La Cité in some unexpected (the forecast had been dire) sunshine. Today, however, the direness of the forecast was exactly spot-on. I retreated from the station to home and got on with my chores. Debrah and Christian went out to the market for supplies - then the air turned a yellowy-grey and the rain got harder - then it got even harder so that there was a river running down the street - then it got so hard that the drain in the courtyard couldn't cope and a flood ensued and there was a torrent running down the street and out of every drainpipe and cascading off the gutters that couldn't cope either.
The light was very very wierd. It was the sort of half light, slightly silvery, that you might get at dawn or during an eclipse and it was a bit spooky. We had all the lights on in the house because it was so dim and still the light was strange.
Poor Debrah and Christian returned soaked from above and below - despite riding out the worst of the storm in the safety of Bar Felix. I went down to the courtyard and poked a large piece of old copper pipe into the drain until the water started to run away (never throw away what might seem like useless bits of old junk cos you never know when they might come in useful!)
An hour later the whole episode repeated itself - strange light, enormous downpour, torrents of water - but at least no courtyard flood, due to my copper pipe action. Whilst not reaching the weirdness levels of the morning, the rain continued throughout the day in a relentless and depressing way.
Completely out of the blue, I got an email this morning from the son of the surgeon who sold the apartments to us, Monsieur D'Arzac. He wanted to book a room for his sister and her boyfriend - the same room that she had lived in for 10 years and which we have now converted into our Studio suite - now that seems a bit weird and spooky too. I found out that M. D'Arzac performed the surgery on a friend of mine here who needed a knee replacement and I had given him one of our cards to show him what we had done with the place - maybe that was how the whole thing came about. Well, I will happily put her up for a night and have invited them all to come and look at the transformation of their old living quarters.
Then Debrah gave Christian some post that she had brought with her from the UK - it turned out to be an invite to his dad's forthcoming wedding. The date is 16th August, which also happens to be the date that Debrah and I got married twelve years ago. How weird is that - both of Christians parents will have re-married on exactly the same date! - the most bizarre of coincidences.
I am now going to bed. I hope to have an ordinary night's sleep and wake up to a very ordinary and normal day .... but then again?
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