It was a disappointingly grey morning as it had been yesterday, when the hazy cloud didn't really clear and the breeze was just a bit too persistent and, as a result, the temperature didn't quite get as high as it should have done - it wasn't cold, but it wasn't hot either.
Debrah had so wanted a glorious blue sky market day, as it had been last Saturday, but it wasn't to be - so having done our breakfast and shopping guest chores, we jumped in the car and headed for the coast where, I assured Debrah, there would be sunshine.
We could have bought oysters from Bouzigues in the market in Carcassonne and eaten them here, but it's not the same as eating oysters looking out over the 'etang' where the oysters lived until plucked from their briny home and served up on a platter. Besides, we had never been to Bouzigues before and we like an exploration and an adventure.
It was a lovely day trip. The fields of poppies and wildflowers still look resplendent, the countryside is a lush green and the vines are vigourously reaching out in all directions. As we rushed past Narbonne and headed towards Beziers we found the sun, the roof came down on the Audi and the sun started to find us.
Bouzigues is a delightful old fishing village perched on the banks of the 'etang de thau', looking across to the hill and port of Sete. Stretched out across the etang between the two are the oyster beds - like tables set out in an exam room - symmetrically line by line, row by row. Of course, every other house along the quay in Bouzigues has a seafood, or more specifically, oyster restaurant attached to it and why not? - you can't really get much closer to the source of the food you are eating than this.
We had a lovely lunch - 24 oysters, 12 mussels, 12 escargots, 6 palourdes, 2 tielles and a bottle of the local wine, picpoul de pinet, made just a few kilometres away.
To complete the seafood theme for the day, by the time we got home we were both looking a bit lobsterish in the face and arm area - the unprepared no sun cream roof down on the Audi driving had caught up with us both. Oh well.
This evening we had drinks with guests - the guests who took over our bikes yesterday and cycled to Marseillette and back, which is a pretty good effort, and who wanted the bikes again today but had to hire from elsewhere because the other guests had already reserved them.
After months of sitting in their 'cave' home, the bikes have never been so popular or well used. I went out four times this week and then guests for the next two days.
My sudden rush of enthusiasm took its toll though. After my last ride on Thursday, my right knee developed a pain that intensified as the day went on such that by yesterday morning I was unable to manage any stairs or bending without an acute sharp pain just below my kneecap.
I know Thursday was a public holiday here (Ascension) and that the locals have been known to treat the Friday as an extension of said holiday to make a long weekend - 'faire le pont' as they call it, literally means to make a bridge between the holiday and the weekend.
I have never known a knee to join in this practice and I have never known a knee to suddenly turn French and declare itself a 'genou' for the day. It was meant to be working but it wasn't. Also, when was it allowed that one 'genou' declared itself unilateral from the other knee - they are supposed to be a pair, working together for the common good of getting me around the place.
Not surprisingly it feels a bit better today and I suspect that by Monday it will be working as normal!
Showing posts with label sunburn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sunburn. Show all posts
Saturday, 23 May 2009
Friday, 4 April 2008
Missed
I missed Debrah today but it shouldn't have been like that. She was supposed to be flying out this morning for the weekend but unaccountably got all her timings wrong. I called her at 8am UK time, expecting her to be in transit to Stansted by then - I got no answer from her mobile (which was unhelpfully set to silent mode apparently). Fifteen minutes later I noticed, via the magic of skype, that she was online which meant that she was still at home. The exchange of messages was as follows;
Me - are you still at home?
Debrah - yes, just having some breakfast, will leave at 9.00
Me - isn't your flight at 9.50?
Debrah - oh shit
There was no way she was going to make the flight, which left her feeling angry with herself at her own stupidity (her words) and me feeling helpless, frustrated and sad. It was my fault, of course, for not phoning her last night!!
Last night I went out for a quiet drink and ended up in a lock-in at a birthday party of a girl that I'd only met once or twice before and hardly knew at all. There was dancing on the bar and impromptu French chanson karaoke (even more incomprehensible than normal) and too much red wine and a early morning finish - so, of course, Debrah missing her flight was definitely my fault for getting mixed up in such company when I should have been at home talking her through setting the alarm clock and ordering the cab.
Other than that, yesterday was quite productive. I have recently discovered the trick of dealing with globe artichokes, which until now had always been a bit of a mystery to me. Of course, everything is easy when you are shown how and between the chef who visited some weeks ago and the Austrian journalist last week, I was shown first hand how to extricate the treat the precious hearts. As they are now in full season and very cheap, I spent Thursday afternoon preparing, cooking and bottling 30 artichokes, which is quite time consuming and produces an enormous amount of waste vegetable matter, but is ultimately very fulfilling.
On an over the top cooking day, I even baked a cake! No, not one of the excellent pre-prepared cake mix packets that one can buy in the supermarket - a proper make it yourself eggs, butter and flour classic victoria sponge type cake that my mum used to make all the time when I was a boy. I think baking a good cake should be part of a school syllabus - it is the sort of activity that brings family and society back together - just the smell of the pre-cooked cake mix took me back 30, well maybe 40, years. I added lemon juice and zest to mine and the guests had some on their breakfast tray this morning.
My guests are as low maintenance as they could possibly be. Since sitting with them over a drink and a few canapes on the evening of their arrival day, I have seen them only twice to hand them a breakfast tray each morning. They seem to be very happy though and they even wash all their breakfast stuff up so that I get back a tray of spotlessly clean crockery and cutlery - guests that do my job for me is something I should encourage - maybe I should put on the website 'you will be expected to wash up your breakfast tray, clean your own bathroom and change your own bed before you leave'.
It was a beautiful Spring day here today, not a cloud in the sky, coolish breeze morning and evening and 20 degree sunshine in the middle of the day, which made Debrah's non-arrival all the more disappointing. My day had been planned around some morning chores and then an airport pick-up - chores having been done and no pick-up to do, I decided to take advantage of the sun and sit in the square for a while. I had intentions of writing the notes for the guest information packs to go in each suite but one person after another came past and joined me in the sunshine - no notes were written, some wine was drunk and I have a sunburnt face , neck and forearms.
That will teach me to sit around doing nothing when there is probably a toilet somewhere I should be cleaning or some sheets I should be ironing. There is bound to be something I have missed.
Me - are you still at home?
Debrah - yes, just having some breakfast, will leave at 9.00
Me - isn't your flight at 9.50?
Debrah - oh shit
There was no way she was going to make the flight, which left her feeling angry with herself at her own stupidity (her words) and me feeling helpless, frustrated and sad. It was my fault, of course, for not phoning her last night!!
Last night I went out for a quiet drink and ended up in a lock-in at a birthday party of a girl that I'd only met once or twice before and hardly knew at all. There was dancing on the bar and impromptu French chanson karaoke (even more incomprehensible than normal) and too much red wine and a early morning finish - so, of course, Debrah missing her flight was definitely my fault for getting mixed up in such company when I should have been at home talking her through setting the alarm clock and ordering the cab.
Other than that, yesterday was quite productive. I have recently discovered the trick of dealing with globe artichokes, which until now had always been a bit of a mystery to me. Of course, everything is easy when you are shown how and between the chef who visited some weeks ago and the Austrian journalist last week, I was shown first hand how to extricate the treat the precious hearts. As they are now in full season and very cheap, I spent Thursday afternoon preparing, cooking and bottling 30 artichokes, which is quite time consuming and produces an enormous amount of waste vegetable matter, but is ultimately very fulfilling.
On an over the top cooking day, I even baked a cake! No, not one of the excellent pre-prepared cake mix packets that one can buy in the supermarket - a proper make it yourself eggs, butter and flour classic victoria sponge type cake that my mum used to make all the time when I was a boy. I think baking a good cake should be part of a school syllabus - it is the sort of activity that brings family and society back together - just the smell of the pre-cooked cake mix took me back 30, well maybe 40, years. I added lemon juice and zest to mine and the guests had some on their breakfast tray this morning.
My guests are as low maintenance as they could possibly be. Since sitting with them over a drink and a few canapes on the evening of their arrival day, I have seen them only twice to hand them a breakfast tray each morning. They seem to be very happy though and they even wash all their breakfast stuff up so that I get back a tray of spotlessly clean crockery and cutlery - guests that do my job for me is something I should encourage - maybe I should put on the website 'you will be expected to wash up your breakfast tray, clean your own bathroom and change your own bed before you leave'.
It was a beautiful Spring day here today, not a cloud in the sky, coolish breeze morning and evening and 20 degree sunshine in the middle of the day, which made Debrah's non-arrival all the more disappointing. My day had been planned around some morning chores and then an airport pick-up - chores having been done and no pick-up to do, I decided to take advantage of the sun and sit in the square for a while. I had intentions of writing the notes for the guest information packs to go in each suite but one person after another came past and joined me in the sunshine - no notes were written, some wine was drunk and I have a sunburnt face , neck and forearms.
That will teach me to sit around doing nothing when there is probably a toilet somewhere I should be cleaning or some sheets I should be ironing. There is bound to be something I have missed.
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