I have tried so hard to fit in with everyone here and not to cause any friction and not to put anyone's nose out of joint. I guess that inevitably I was going to put a foot wrong somewhere along the line and today something that had been worrying me came back to haunt me.
During the initial renovation we struggled to know what to do with all the debris and rubbish. Operation Barney accounted for quite a lot but, frankly, we were a bit embarrassed to put it all by the bins and expect the dustmen to take it all away. So we utilised an empty room on the ground floor that appeared to be totally unused.
My plan was to get the debris and rubbish out of the areas that we were renovating and into this unused space - and then when we had finished everything, I would hire a van and we would take it all to the local waste disposal.
There appeared to be no harm done - the door to this room was open, the room had obviously not been used or cleaned for years and no-one had ever been seen entering or leaving it.
For a while, after moving our rubbish down there, I would, bit by bit, take it out to the bins for disposal - but then suddenly there was a lock on the door and I couldn't get access. I assumed that the managing agents had fitted the lock but it appears that there is an owner of that space and, suddenly, he wants to do something with it and is mightily pissed off that I have dumped a load of rubbish in it in the meantime. It is he who put the padlock on it and it is he and his mother that I met today.
I was on my way down to the courtyard with a bucket of water to wash the car - it being a bit dirty from the sand in the recent rain - when I was confronted by a boggle eyed French matriarch and, what I presume to be, her son. I didn't want to argue with them and actually was in no position to do so because I was indeed guilty of dumping rubbish in their apartment and also because I couldn't understand most of what they were barking at me - so much for my French lessons!
I told them that I would organise the removal of the debris and went to speak to the managing agents to see if they knew someone who would take it all away and because they need to co-ordinate it with the owner, who has the key to the space. I am waiting to hear back from them. At least when it is all gone I can stop worrying about it.
Thursday, 29 May 2008
Wednesday, 28 May 2008
Return to Gardening
Chris has been getting along very well with the renovation of Denis' apartment upstairs, so this morning it was time to collect the tiles for the bathroom and shower which had been sitting at Caro Price since Debrah found them and bought them a few weeks ago.
Fortunately, the sun shone, in complete contrast to yesterday's wierdness, and so I was able to put the roof down with a view to spreading the weight around - it was only 16sqm but that is still a lot of weight for my car. The man at Caro Price looked at me as if I was mad (something I have got used to over the past year or so) but I insisted it would be OK and so we loaded half in the boot and half on the back seat.
When Chris got to work he was amazed to find that I had already been to the tile shop and back again - and that his (and my) first job was to carry the tiles up two flights of stairs - what a way to start the day. It being far too early in the morning for Christian to be surfaced, we had to do without the extra welcome pair of hands. Sixteen boxes equals eight times each up and down the stairs and we were both covered in sweat and struggling for breath when we had finished - as good as any gym workout in my view and no doubt I will feel it in my calves and my back tomorrow.
Alas the Audi did not come out of the ordeal undamaged either - the newly fitted exhaust brackets had sheared and the rear of the exhaust pipe was once more hanging free - not sure if the tile trip had caused that or if they were just defective anyway, but it meant another temporary repair using wire until I can get back to the garage and complain.
I couldn't get there today because I needed the car to drop Christian at the airport and then to go to the supermarket to stock up on drinks and tinned goods and then to Tridome for some more bits for Chris and finally back again to Tridome to collect Debrah and all the required stuff for window boxes.
Yes. We have put window boxes (my new children, Chris called them) along the front of the apartments. This evening Debrah and I potted up the geraniums and the like and hung each one from the metal balustrade at each window along the street-facing side of the building - and very lovely they look too.
Next stop - tubs and pots in the courtyard - it's only a matter of time.
Fortunately, the sun shone, in complete contrast to yesterday's wierdness, and so I was able to put the roof down with a view to spreading the weight around - it was only 16sqm but that is still a lot of weight for my car. The man at Caro Price looked at me as if I was mad (something I have got used to over the past year or so) but I insisted it would be OK and so we loaded half in the boot and half on the back seat.
When Chris got to work he was amazed to find that I had already been to the tile shop and back again - and that his (and my) first job was to carry the tiles up two flights of stairs - what a way to start the day. It being far too early in the morning for Christian to be surfaced, we had to do without the extra welcome pair of hands. Sixteen boxes equals eight times each up and down the stairs and we were both covered in sweat and struggling for breath when we had finished - as good as any gym workout in my view and no doubt I will feel it in my calves and my back tomorrow.
Alas the Audi did not come out of the ordeal undamaged either - the newly fitted exhaust brackets had sheared and the rear of the exhaust pipe was once more hanging free - not sure if the tile trip had caused that or if they were just defective anyway, but it meant another temporary repair using wire until I can get back to the garage and complain.
I couldn't get there today because I needed the car to drop Christian at the airport and then to go to the supermarket to stock up on drinks and tinned goods and then to Tridome for some more bits for Chris and finally back again to Tridome to collect Debrah and all the required stuff for window boxes.
Yes. We have put window boxes (my new children, Chris called them) along the front of the apartments. This evening Debrah and I potted up the geraniums and the like and hung each one from the metal balustrade at each window along the street-facing side of the building - and very lovely they look too.
Next stop - tubs and pots in the courtyard - it's only a matter of time.
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?
Monday, 26 May 2008
Friends
We had friends as paying guests this weekend, which was a first, and at the same time had friends here as non-paying guests staying in our spare bedroom - so it was all a bit confusing and poor Christian was turfed out of the spare room as a result. He spent one night with Chris, on the sofa bed in Susan's apartment overlooking the square, and one night on the sofa here - all of which he accepted without question, for which I am very grateful.
Rosie and Martin, and their two children, Victor and Stanley. arrived in Carcassonne on the overnight sleeper train from Paris on Saturday morning at 5.39am. It had left Paris exactly on time and it arrived exactly on time, just as you'd expect from a French train. I'm very glad it was because I would have been less than happy to have got up at 5.00am to meet them if it wasn't.
We wandered back from the station, under a moody looking sky, past the stallholders setting up the Saturday market. They had arrived a good 10 hours before check-in time, but fortunately I had only had one set of guests in and so was able to put them all into one suite where they promptly all collapsed into the sleep that they didn't get on the overnight sleeper.
It meant a same day room change for me but I am so used to them by now that they hold no fears any more. The rest of Saturday was spent as Saturday's usually are here - market shopping for the weekend's food, lunch and socialising at bar Saillan (my guests thought it was a lovely little bar), pottering about the apartment in the afternoon reading the newspaper, checking emails and keeping an eye on the sports scores, prepping and cooking dinner in the evening and finally eating and drinking and chatting into the late hours. This week was more relaxing because it was a large group of old friends catching up with each other - but there is always the washing up after everyone else has finally retired - my day started at 5.00am and finished at 2.00am the following morning.
As always with a large group, it was impossible to decide what to do on Sunday morning and a dark sky and promised showers made the decision even harder. By the time we were organised the morning had all but gone.
The last thing you expect to find on the outskirts of Carcassonne is an theme park dedicated to all things Australian, but that is exactly what we have. When I say theme park I am being rather generous and Disney and Alton Towers need have no fear of the competition, although we all agreed we would never set foot in places like that and that 'Le Parc Australien' was very charming and quite fun for an hour or so in the drizzle. We tried to play the didgeridoo (Christian very good at it / Debrah very amusing with goat imitations!), we looked at the emus and the wallabies and the kangeroos and the rabbit that was so scared by a chicken that it fell into a coma for three days (I kid you not) and played all the games. Sadly there were no boomerang demonstrations because of the wind and rain.
By the time we left, having played with all the musical instruments in the shop on the way out, we were in severe danger of missing lunchtime. We tried Le Moulin at Trebes but they only had a special Mother's Day menu - it being French Mother's Day - and then the Buffalo Grill for a laugh and for the benefit of the kids - but they were unbelievably queuing out of the door to get in there. So finally, I decided we should go into La Cité where I knew we could definitely still get some lunch. Sadly Martin and Rosie couldn't go on a canal trip because the deteriorating weather meant they were cancelled.
The day finished with a massive pile of sausages and potatoes cooked in the oven, more red wine of course and much singing and dancing to sixties, seventies and eighties classics - it's always a winner. It was lovely to see Rosie and Martin so relaxed and happy together - the benefit of a bit of Languedoc therapy.
Rosie and Martin, and their two children, Victor and Stanley. arrived in Carcassonne on the overnight sleeper train from Paris on Saturday morning at 5.39am. It had left Paris exactly on time and it arrived exactly on time, just as you'd expect from a French train. I'm very glad it was because I would have been less than happy to have got up at 5.00am to meet them if it wasn't.
We wandered back from the station, under a moody looking sky, past the stallholders setting up the Saturday market. They had arrived a good 10 hours before check-in time, but fortunately I had only had one set of guests in and so was able to put them all into one suite where they promptly all collapsed into the sleep that they didn't get on the overnight sleeper.
It meant a same day room change for me but I am so used to them by now that they hold no fears any more. The rest of Saturday was spent as Saturday's usually are here - market shopping for the weekend's food, lunch and socialising at bar Saillan (my guests thought it was a lovely little bar), pottering about the apartment in the afternoon reading the newspaper, checking emails and keeping an eye on the sports scores, prepping and cooking dinner in the evening and finally eating and drinking and chatting into the late hours. This week was more relaxing because it was a large group of old friends catching up with each other - but there is always the washing up after everyone else has finally retired - my day started at 5.00am and finished at 2.00am the following morning.
As always with a large group, it was impossible to decide what to do on Sunday morning and a dark sky and promised showers made the decision even harder. By the time we were organised the morning had all but gone.
The last thing you expect to find on the outskirts of Carcassonne is an theme park dedicated to all things Australian, but that is exactly what we have. When I say theme park I am being rather generous and Disney and Alton Towers need have no fear of the competition, although we all agreed we would never set foot in places like that and that 'Le Parc Australien' was very charming and quite fun for an hour or so in the drizzle. We tried to play the didgeridoo (Christian very good at it / Debrah very amusing with goat imitations!), we looked at the emus and the wallabies and the kangeroos and the rabbit that was so scared by a chicken that it fell into a coma for three days (I kid you not) and played all the games. Sadly there were no boomerang demonstrations because of the wind and rain.
By the time we left, having played with all the musical instruments in the shop on the way out, we were in severe danger of missing lunchtime. We tried Le Moulin at Trebes but they only had a special Mother's Day menu - it being French Mother's Day - and then the Buffalo Grill for a laugh and for the benefit of the kids - but they were unbelievably queuing out of the door to get in there. So finally, I decided we should go into La Cité where I knew we could definitely still get some lunch. Sadly Martin and Rosie couldn't go on a canal trip because the deteriorating weather meant they were cancelled.
The day finished with a massive pile of sausages and potatoes cooked in the oven, more red wine of course and much singing and dancing to sixties, seventies and eighties classics - it's always a winner. It was lovely to see Rosie and Martin so relaxed and happy together - the benefit of a bit of Languedoc therapy.
Friday, 23 May 2008
Contacts
We were invited to a soirée at Domaine Gayda this evening, to celebrate the opening of their new terrace. We had established contact with them when we visited for lunch about two months ago, had subsequently exchanged emails and were now on the guestlist. It was a chance to meet some new people and hopefully some useful new contacts.
As far as I was aware there were only two people attending whom I knew - Jamie and Greca from the French Entree website - but that was enough to get us going on introductions and, naturally, Lesa appeared, spreading the good word about 42rvh as always and introducing us to the owner of 'Le Moulin' at Trebes, whom I now have to visit to cement relations. He could be a useful contact as his restaurant is just next to the Canal du Midi and is a natural stop-off for any guests borrowing the bikes and cycling off down the canal for the day.
Before we left we stuck our head into the wine production rooms below the restaurant, which led to a meeting with Matthew Stubbs MW, who is in the process of setting up a wine school and seems like a perfect contact for all those guests wishing to do a quick wine course, a bit of tasting or a more full on wine tour of the region. I think I might go along myself.
We had spent all night just missing the canapes trays and then when we did get to one it didn't really satisfy our food cravings. The dozen sausages sat in the fridge back home became very appealing - so we hotfooted back to Carcassonne and had a late night sausage and potato salad feast - even Christian got up out of bed (tempted by the smell and sizzling noise) to join in briefly. Excellent they were too.
The blockaded guests finally made it here late last evening after an all day drive through France and seem to have had a good day out in La Cité today. Our next guests arrive tomorrow morning at 5.30am at the train station after getting the overnight sleeper from Paris - at least 12 hours before their room will be ready - good grief!
As far as I was aware there were only two people attending whom I knew - Jamie and Greca from the French Entree website - but that was enough to get us going on introductions and, naturally, Lesa appeared, spreading the good word about 42rvh as always and introducing us to the owner of 'Le Moulin' at Trebes, whom I now have to visit to cement relations. He could be a useful contact as his restaurant is just next to the Canal du Midi and is a natural stop-off for any guests borrowing the bikes and cycling off down the canal for the day.
Before we left we stuck our head into the wine production rooms below the restaurant, which led to a meeting with Matthew Stubbs MW, who is in the process of setting up a wine school and seems like a perfect contact for all those guests wishing to do a quick wine course, a bit of tasting or a more full on wine tour of the region. I think I might go along myself.
We had spent all night just missing the canapes trays and then when we did get to one it didn't really satisfy our food cravings. The dozen sausages sat in the fridge back home became very appealing - so we hotfooted back to Carcassonne and had a late night sausage and potato salad feast - even Christian got up out of bed (tempted by the smell and sizzling noise) to join in briefly. Excellent they were too.
The blockaded guests finally made it here late last evening after an all day drive through France and seem to have had a good day out in La Cité today. Our next guests arrive tomorrow morning at 5.30am at the train station after getting the overnight sleeper from Paris - at least 12 hours before their room will be ready - good grief!
Wednesday, 21 May 2008
Water
Just when you think you might have an easier day, something comes along to spoil it. So it was today - just one set of guests, out for the day after an early breakfast, a bit of ironing to do, a relaxed lunch and then catch up on some small jobs I'd been putting off.
It was a glorious Languedoc day, an azure blue cloudless sky in all directions. The morning went as planned - three hours of ironing whilst it was still relatively cool. All the linen and towels were ready for the weekend, when we have a blitz of new guests.
Just before lunch, Chris appeared with news of a mis-labelled plumbing part, which meant an unplanned trip to the DIY store and a hunt for the right size fitting - and there is never a guarantee that they will have the stock as we have found to our cost many times before.
On the way we noticed that there were long queues at all the petrol stations - very strange. I later found out that the French fishermen were causing a spot of bother by blockading the ports and it seems that everyone round here thought there was going to be a fuel shortage - well, they made it so - because everyone in Carcassonne was filling up their car and any available jerrycan with as much fuel as they could get - thus causing many petrol stations to put up 'plus de gazole' signs as they sold out of their stock.
I have no idea what the fishermen were complaining about - probably just the fact that they've been out of the news for a while and felt, as any good and true socialist worker should, that they should exercise their right to protest and cause a bit of a commotion just because they can.
As a result, in mid-afternoon I had a phone call from my next guests due to arrive tomorrow. They were sat in Dover harbour with no prospect of a ferry leaving because of the lines of French fishing boats blocking Calais and had decided that they would have to abandon their trip. I've never had any sympathy with strikers who cause mayhem for others (having endured years of London tube train strikes) and at this point would happily have sunk the whole French fishing fleet on their behalf.
When Christian decided to have a shower the afternoon took another turn for the worse. No-one had used the shower in the spare room since Chris went off to the USA in January. When Christian turned the shower on, water spurted in every direction except downwards where it was intended - the whole shower head had come apart and was spraying water upwards onto the ceiling and sideways onto the wall.
We mopped up and took the shower head off to see what was going on. All the nozzles were totally encrusted with limescale and were thus blocked and water being water it had to find an exit route somewhere - the pressure had blown the shower head apart. I guess that shows how much rubbish there is in the tap water here and the lack of regular use had allowed everything to dry up. I took it apart and did my best to rectify things but couldn't get it all back together. I hadn't wanted to bother Chris with it as he has enough work to do up in Denis' apartment, but I was relieved when his natural curiosity got the better of him and he came to see what was going on and came up with the solution for getting the seal back in the right place and re-attaching one broken nozzle - all that was then left for me to do was poke a needle into each nozzle one by one, wiggle it about a bit and re-attach the shower head - all of which I managed without further mishap.
The day ended on a positive note with a further phone call - the fishermen had suddenly got bored and gone home - the ferries were running again and my next guests had hastened back to Dover and were on their way. I hope they've got plenty of petrol!
It was a glorious Languedoc day, an azure blue cloudless sky in all directions. The morning went as planned - three hours of ironing whilst it was still relatively cool. All the linen and towels were ready for the weekend, when we have a blitz of new guests.
Just before lunch, Chris appeared with news of a mis-labelled plumbing part, which meant an unplanned trip to the DIY store and a hunt for the right size fitting - and there is never a guarantee that they will have the stock as we have found to our cost many times before.
On the way we noticed that there were long queues at all the petrol stations - very strange. I later found out that the French fishermen were causing a spot of bother by blockading the ports and it seems that everyone round here thought there was going to be a fuel shortage - well, they made it so - because everyone in Carcassonne was filling up their car and any available jerrycan with as much fuel as they could get - thus causing many petrol stations to put up 'plus de gazole' signs as they sold out of their stock.
I have no idea what the fishermen were complaining about - probably just the fact that they've been out of the news for a while and felt, as any good and true socialist worker should, that they should exercise their right to protest and cause a bit of a commotion just because they can.
As a result, in mid-afternoon I had a phone call from my next guests due to arrive tomorrow. They were sat in Dover harbour with no prospect of a ferry leaving because of the lines of French fishing boats blocking Calais and had decided that they would have to abandon their trip. I've never had any sympathy with strikers who cause mayhem for others (having endured years of London tube train strikes) and at this point would happily have sunk the whole French fishing fleet on their behalf.
When Christian decided to have a shower the afternoon took another turn for the worse. No-one had used the shower in the spare room since Chris went off to the USA in January. When Christian turned the shower on, water spurted in every direction except downwards where it was intended - the whole shower head had come apart and was spraying water upwards onto the ceiling and sideways onto the wall.
We mopped up and took the shower head off to see what was going on. All the nozzles were totally encrusted with limescale and were thus blocked and water being water it had to find an exit route somewhere - the pressure had blown the shower head apart. I guess that shows how much rubbish there is in the tap water here and the lack of regular use had allowed everything to dry up. I took it apart and did my best to rectify things but couldn't get it all back together. I hadn't wanted to bother Chris with it as he has enough work to do up in Denis' apartment, but I was relieved when his natural curiosity got the better of him and he came to see what was going on and came up with the solution for getting the seal back in the right place and re-attaching one broken nozzle - all that was then left for me to do was poke a needle into each nozzle one by one, wiggle it about a bit and re-attach the shower head - all of which I managed without further mishap.
The day ended on a positive note with a further phone call - the fishermen had suddenly got bored and gone home - the ferries were running again and my next guests had hastened back to Dover and were on their way. I hope they've got plenty of petrol!
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
New Arrivals
My first Australian guests arrived yesterday afternoon. A lovely couple on a trip to the UK for a family wedding and getting in a bit of France whilst they are over here from the other side of the world.
It turned out that they had spent two nights already at the Hotel de la Cité - so I wondered what they would make of it slumming down here in the old town without 24 hour room service and all the other five star luxuries.
I got off to a bad start - I wasn't sure what time they were going to arrive and risked a late afternoon trip to Tridome for building supplies for Chris - but they turned up bang on 4.30pm (when we say rooms will be ready for check-in) and I kept them waiting for half an hour as a result. I have never felt so embarrassed.
So it was straight into over-servicing mode and I hope that after canapes and a restaurant recommendation last night and map lending and day trip planning this morning and dinner this evening, I have rescued the bad start. We had a very enjoyable dinner and conversation this evening and they ate everything put in front of them, which is always a good sign - so fingers crossed. Tomorrow I am sending them off on a wine tasting tour of the Cabardes and Minervois.
In the meantime, Christian arrived from England. He is here for a week initially, in the middle of his exams, and will then come back for a month after he has finished them for a bit of Languedoc therapy - sun, slower pace, a bit of manual labour for me and for Chris and a change of air from London life - after which I hope we and he will know where his next steps will lead.
I introduced him gently with a steak lunch in the square - like we need an excuse - and then he was straight into help mode with me on a supermarket re-stocking run and then rubbish removal for Chris upstairs. He did revert to type by asking me if I needed any help with dinner at the exact moment that I had finished two hours prep and just sat down for a moment - well, you can't expect the world on day one - it was a good start and it's good to have him here with us.
I just need to keep him away from a 'Men Behaving Badly' Chris and Patrick night out for a couple of weeks, at least until we've had time to work on him a bit!
It turned out that they had spent two nights already at the Hotel de la Cité - so I wondered what they would make of it slumming down here in the old town without 24 hour room service and all the other five star luxuries.
I got off to a bad start - I wasn't sure what time they were going to arrive and risked a late afternoon trip to Tridome for building supplies for Chris - but they turned up bang on 4.30pm (when we say rooms will be ready for check-in) and I kept them waiting for half an hour as a result. I have never felt so embarrassed.
So it was straight into over-servicing mode and I hope that after canapes and a restaurant recommendation last night and map lending and day trip planning this morning and dinner this evening, I have rescued the bad start. We had a very enjoyable dinner and conversation this evening and they ate everything put in front of them, which is always a good sign - so fingers crossed. Tomorrow I am sending them off on a wine tasting tour of the Cabardes and Minervois.
In the meantime, Christian arrived from England. He is here for a week initially, in the middle of his exams, and will then come back for a month after he has finished them for a bit of Languedoc therapy - sun, slower pace, a bit of manual labour for me and for Chris and a change of air from London life - after which I hope we and he will know where his next steps will lead.
I introduced him gently with a steak lunch in the square - like we need an excuse - and then he was straight into help mode with me on a supermarket re-stocking run and then rubbish removal for Chris upstairs. He did revert to type by asking me if I needed any help with dinner at the exact moment that I had finished two hours prep and just sat down for a moment - well, you can't expect the world on day one - it was a good start and it's good to have him here with us.
I just need to keep him away from a 'Men Behaving Badly' Chris and Patrick night out for a couple of weeks, at least until we've had time to work on him a bit!
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