Phew! What an opposite-of-a-scorcher.

Well, Mrs A did manage to get home safely (see last posting) but reported that the roads and conditions generally were worse in our local town – the departemental ‘Prefecture’ or administrative capital. It did look as if there had been more snow there but the standard of clearing of roads, parking spaces and footpaths was abysmal.

Our post lady, who managed to get through to us 2 or 3 days after the big fall, told us that the attitude and efficiency of the commune is fundamentally important to the quality of road clearing. Our tiny commune (about 175 people) is very good but we are surrounded by others not as effective. So, as Mrs A drove into town, she went from quite good roads here through very poor roads in the next commune and pretty good ones in the one after that, to lousy ones in town.

Temperatures varied quite a bit on her journey too but we can’t blame the communes for that. When she left here the temperature was –10.5°C but she passed through –16°C in some of the more exposed places.

Fortunately our concerns about losing electricity and/or telephone were unfounded. We were very lucky. EDF (Electricité de France, a company which owns a few electricity supply companies in the UK) has come in for a lot criticism for its apparently slow response to the situation. Certainly, people we know were without electricity for at least 3 days; a serious situation in the temperatures we’ve been experiencing.

On our way into town, we pass a small airfield not too far from us and Mrs A reported a larger than usual number of helicopters coming and going last week. We now think we know why. According to the radio, many people in the Limousin and the Auvergne were completely cut off for several days and were having food and other essentials delivered to them by helicopter. What a thankless task that must be! We can hear the housewives now.

“You know, those sheep brains weren’t a patch on the ones I usually buy from our local butcher. The foie gras was rubbish too. I tried to give it to the cat but even she wouldn’t eat it. And don’t get me started on the wine. The Chablis was at completely the wrong temperature and even an Englishman wouldn’t have drunk that claret!”

Well, things are gradually returning to normal. The snow is gradually sublimating and we had a positive, just, daytime temperature yesterday. Much to her disgust, the cat was reintroduced to the outside world last night and the forecast suggests slightly warmer weather over the next few days.

We absolutely love the snow and cold days (as long as they are crisp and clear) but you can have too much of a good thing. It will be nice to recover the normal pattern of our lives.

I must go and cut some wood!

Winter Draws On

We hear that the south of England has been suffering wintry weather. Ha!

We returned home from our little sojourn in the Dordogne (the subject of our previous posting) feeling reasonably relaxed but relishing neither the return to the daily grind nor the colder weather which were to come.

Mrs A headed off to work on a decidedly chilly Monday morning and Mr A got stuck into the Monday chores, making a mental note that during the afternoon he ought to cut some more wood in case the weather really did become cold. That ambition, sadly, was frustrated when it began to rain after lunch. Cutting wood, which ought to be kept dry, with an electric chainsaw, which MUST be kept dry, is not sensible in such conditions. By the time Mrs A returned home towards 7pm, the rain had turned into sleet.

‘Wouldn’t it be great’ said Mrs A, ‘if we were snowed in tomorrow. I could spend my birthday here instead of at work.’

Imagine our delight when we awoke on Tuesday to a snowy wonderland. About 10cm (4 inches in old money) had fallen over night and it was still snowing. Our drive was clearly impassable, partly because of the depth of the snow and partly because the weight of the snow in the trees was causing branches to bend over, effectively preventing us getting the car out. And, it was still snowing heavily. Delighted, we set about relaxing and deciding what we’d do with our day.

We sat snugly inside, relaxing in front of the fire, while it snowed, and snowed, and snowed. The 10cm grew to 15cm (a sight which caused the cat to announce that she would report us to the authorities if we put her out. Off we trudged to the barn to dig out her long abandoned litter-tray). During the afternoon, we heard a loud crack and turned to look out of the widow just in time to see a huge branch fall from one of our beautiful old apple trees.

Still it snowed, and snowed, and snowed. Another loud crack and down came another branch. Mr A was forced to go outside and beat the telephone wire with a long pole to shake off the huge collar of snow wrapped around it. And still it snowed, and snowed and snowed.

Reports began to flood in on the radio of havoc being caused by the snow. Major roads were closed and huge numbers of people were without electricity and telephone. (Yesterday we bumped into an English couple we know from the next village. They had travelled to Limoges on Tuesday to collect a visitor from the airport. The journey usually takes an hour each way. It took them 3 hours to get there and 8 hours to get home. And the visitor’s flight was cancelled due to the state of the runway!) And still it snowed.

We awoke yesterday to snow lying between 25cm and 30cm deep. Friends who have lived here for decades and who always say that we don’t get the hard winters of the past have told us that they’ve never experienced so much snow in 24 hours. Mercifully, we still have electricity and the ‘phone, although our ‘phone line has become detached from one of its supports and is being held up only by the trees it has become entangled in. Apart from a short walk, we spent all of yesterday clearing our drive of as much snow as we could and of overhanging branches which were bent, or broken, to the ground. We also had to clear a neighbouring road which our damaged and bending trees were blocking. We’ll have plenty of free wood for the future but our supply of cut wood is dwindling.

Mrs A struggled into work this morning. She says the town is a scene of chaos as none of the car parks is cleared so people are parking all over the place. Lorries are stuck on one of the big slopes on the way into town, blocking the road completely. It looks as if I might not see her again until the thaw, predicted for sometime next month!

OK, I’d better post this now before the telephone line gives up the ghost. Wintry weather in southern England: don’t make us laugh!

A Weekend in Ex-Pat Land

After our agreeable but tiring trip to the UK over Christmas and New Year, Mrs A & I decided to have a weekend away to relax and to celebrate, a few days early, Mrs A’s birthday. Being reasonably centrally located in France we’re not short of choice for venues for short breaks but we decided that to avoid wearing ourselves out even more, we’d go somewhere reasonably local. It really wasn’t too difficult to choose Sarlat in the Dordogne, which is less than three hours away.

Those of you who have holidayed in the Dordogne will almost certainly have visited Sarlat – la – Canéda (to give it its full name) and know that it is a beautiful ancient town. You will know that it is usually heaving with tourists who are taking advantage of its many restaurants and, perhaps, its huge Saturday market. You will also remember that you heard at least as many British and Dutch voices as those of the natives. Well, in deciding to visit on the weekend of 19,20 & 21 January we expected Sarlat to be very different from that experience and in some, if not all, respects it was.

The biggest differences were first, the numbers of people in the town and, second, the numbers of restaurants open for business. By comparison with even the relatively ‘low’ tourist seasons of June and September, let alone the ‘high’ season of July and August, the town was quite deserted. This was wonderful from our point of view as it gave a real opportunity to explore and view the lovely buildings without being constantly barged and pushed. We don’t think that as June and September tourists in the past, we’ve ever been able to appreciate the beauty of the place so much as we did last weekend. On the other hand, the very small number of restaurants that were open for business might have caused us a problem in finding something that suited us. Fortunately, a combination of pre-visit research and a wonderful recommendation by the hotel receptionist led us to two excellent restaurants to enjoy the typical cuisine of the region. This is best described as being a delight for the taste buds and a nightmare for the heart.

To our surprise, however, the proportion of British voices and the size of the Saturday market, which we’d previously assumed was aimed heavily at the tourist influx, weren’t significantly different. The Dordogne is, of course, prime ex-pat land where they probably sell as many copies of the ‘Daily Telegraph’ per head as they do in Surrey, so we encountered quite a few pristinely dressed and coiffed ladies with their cavalry twill and cravat bedecked husbands (Ooh, Mr A. You’re such an inverted snob!) chattering loudly in rich English tones as they did their shopping and sipped their coffees.

We were blessed by very mild, if grey, weather and spent Saturday walking around in shirtsleeves. There were actually quite a few people eating outside at lunchtime on Saturday.

On Saturday afternoon, we ventured out down the River Dordogne, passing through the beautiful La Roque-Gagéac, to visit the magnificent gardens of Marqueyssac. This is one of two or three gardens in the region which are open all the year round and it is well worth a visit. However, as it is the most visited garden in the region, it’s probably best to avoid the busiest months.

A good weekend and a good rest. It set us up nicely for the trial that was to come and which is reported in our next posting. 

Further Reading

Further to our last blog, if you would like further information on the tradition of the 'Galette des Rois' or if you just want to read an account of life in a completely different French environment, why not visit the blog of our good friend, Madame Fudge. Her postings can be found on http://6eme-etage.blogspot.com

HAPPY NEW YEAR

A little late in the day, or should that be year, we wish you all a Happy & Healthy New Year.

We have now returned from our visit to the UK. We spent three weeks visiting family and friends, spending Christmas in the Northeast with both our mothers and our daughter. In geekmans terms, we spent 50 hours (i.e. more than 1 out of every 7 waking hours) at the wheel of the car, driving 3800 km (2375 m) at an average speed of 76 kph (47.5 mph) and achieving 5.5 ltrs/100 km (51.7 mpg). We just knew you would you would be thrilled to learn that. (We spared you a list of the roads we drove on and of the French departements and the English counties we passed through!)

Wonderful though it was to see everyone, it’s not difficult to understand that by the time we got home, we were both very tired and glad to be back. Life is now gradually returning to ‘normal’. Mrs A is back into the swing of work and Mr A is staring gloomily at the long list of things that need to be done.

Before leaving for England, we took the precaution of ordering for our return a ‘Galette des Rois’ (Cake of the Kings) from our favourite patisserie. One of the many fine traditions we enjoy in France is the ‘a cake for every occasion’. While not the world’s most enthusiastic eaters of sweet things, we do enjoy looking at the wonderful confections which appear at certain times of the year. The ‘Galette des Rois’, however, is our major exception. This cake, to celebrate the Christian festival of the Epiphany, is in fact a flattish puff pastry ‘pie’ with a frangipane filling (there are other fillings but there is only the one we’d ever go for) and for us it’s irresistible. However, it does come with two minor problems.

First, the galette traditionally has a ‘fève’ hidden inside it. Those of you who have some French might express a little surprise that a cake’s filling might incorporate a broad bean but, mercifully, ‘une fève’ also means ‘a charm’. The person who finds this charm inside his/her slice receives a cardboard crown to wear for the rest of the day. This, presumably, is to take the mind off the broken tooth!

The second is the size. ‘Galettes des Rois’ come in a number of sizes, the smallest being for two people. Well, we can only say that half the two-person galette sinks us without trace for the remainder of Sunday. This is a food for those who are serious ‘gourmands’. ('Gourmand' is an adjective which means both ‘sweet-toothed’ and ‘greedy’. Both meanings apply to the preceding sentence.) Thank goodness Epiphany only lasts, as far as patissiers and gourmands are concerned, until the end of January.

OK, it’s time to do a thousand sit-ups so I’ll close now. However, before I do, I'll make a plea for your help. It has come to our notice recently that our feeble efforts are being closely monitored by the Poole branch of the spelling police. If you happen to spot any errors, please feel free to tell us so we can correct them before they get picked up by ‘Big Brother/Sister-in-law/Nephew!!