Waiting for Godot

Posted on by Franco — No Comments ↓

Today marks the end of our fourth week in France for this trip. In those four weeks we have enjoyed just five days of sunshine and one of those was the day we arrived. The last week has been a complete wash-out and today, once again, we are inside sheltering from lashing wind and rain. Other than the fact that there are leaves on the trees, it feels and sounds like winter outside. The middle of June in the south of France and I’ve put our heater on. Fans of France as we may be, Francine and I are both getting pretty cheesed-off with it now.

In Provence the forecast for tomorrow, the summer solstice, is for a high of 21°C. It’s almost unbelievable. We know that parts of Spain have also been suffering from poor weather and we were told that Greece has had unseasonably low temperatures also. Together with the fact that it is the southern half of France that is being battered, it sounds as though there is a particularly nasty weather system positioned over the Mediterranean. It seems to be stuck.

Several years ago we realized that we could buy the occasional Aujourd’hui newspaper to follow the weather prospects; it carries a weather forecast from Meteo France for today and three days hence. Being a realist about we humans’ ability to understand and forecast weather systems, I tend to regard the third and fourth day as a complete guess but today and tomorrow are normally a reasonable guide. The forecasts for the past week have been cruelly tantalizing. We’d buy a newspaper showing the day after tomorrow as having a little improvement in our meteorological fortunes with even more improvement on the fourth day. Two days later we’d buy another paper and, lo and behold, more rubbish today and tomorrow with the situation improving thereafter. When we arrived here yesterday, we were told that the weather was expected to start improve this afternoon but it has completely collapsed. Today we bought a paper that shows it improving in two days time. It’s a lot like waiting for Godot.

As I recall, Godot never showed up.

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , ,

Condom

Posted on by Franco — No Comments ↓

According to the Rough Guide, there is actually no connection between the French town called Condom and the contraceptive device of the same English name. This leads me to wonder quite why such a name was chosen for the contraceptive. Since I just about remember, from more youthful days, some folks referring to sheaths as “French letters”, I assume there to be some historic connection with France but any connection is apparently not with Condom, itself. A case for some Internet research, maybe. Incidentally, the French name for a contraceptive sheath is préservatif.

IMG_6452_Condom_Cathedral_cloisters IMG_6472_Condom_Cathedral Rather curiously, the town of Condom has clearly willingly adopted its nominal English association with sheaths. The French are not usually given to adopting anything foreign. As a result of this atypical adoption, postcard displays around the town offer, amongst the more traditional tourist shots, rather predictable visual gags concerning condoms. Condom (the town) does have a reasonably impressive cathedral with some interesting and much photographed cloisters. Naturally, one can buy “straight” postcards of the cathedral and cloisters. One can also buy postcards depicting said cathedral with its tower encased in a gigantic sheath. I assume such wit (?) to be aimed at passing English school boys. Having said that, I did weaken just a little and bought Guillaume a Condom sticker bearing the town’s shield – and only the town’s shield. Well, it had to be done. 😉

The main reason for most rational alcoholics to visit Condom is its association with Armagnac. Armagnac is a French brandy differing from Cognac in that it is the result of a single distillation rather than a double distillation process. To my palate the single distillation leaves Armagnac with slightly more flavour and, perhaps, slightly less fire than Cognac, and I personally prefer it. Unfortunately, we were on just a night halt and didn’t have time for an Armagnac distillery tour. Next time, perhaps.

Technorati Tags: ,,,
Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , , ,

Flocin’ Warm Welcome

Posted on by Franco — No Comments ↓

After 36 hours of more or less constant rain – there were a few pauses of a minute or two – we were getting a little stir-crazy and finally awoke to a morning dry enough to pack up. Everything was still very wet but it wasn’t actually raining on us. Still, things could have been a lot worse and, indeed, in the Vars region (southern Provence) they were worse; the poor folks there had suffered fatal flash flooding. 11 days on one campsite is our record and we’d just equalled it. It was definitely time to move.

Many years ago I headed for  a place in Germany called Titisee, for no more reason than I felt the need to visit a place with such a name. It was in the Black Forest and, as long as you avoided Titisee Neustadt (Neustadt = Newtown), it turned out to be very pleasant. For much the same reason, I’ve always had a hankering to visit Condom in France.

IMG_6470_River_Baise We’d found four campsites, a municipal and three farm sites, listed under Condom and sallied forth. Let’s get the joke out of the way now. After 5 hours of towing along side roads, I arrived in Condom. Wow, the boy certainly knows how to make an entrance! OK, done, back to reality. Reality was that, following the lengthy period of rain suffered by much of southern France during the last week, the river Baïse flowing through Cognac looked more like chocolate or coffee than water. I’m sure that this isn’t its normal colour.

We drove first to the municipal site which, for a one night stop, would normally be fine. We found it without trouble but, immediately opposite the entrance gate was another large camping area – the largest encampment of gens de voyage (itinerants) we’ve ever seen. Itinerants may not actually be a problem but such a large gathering (there were at least 50 vans) doesn’t give one the greatest feelings of relaxation and security. The municipal site is probably fine and did have security barriers but we did a quick three-point-turn with the caravan still attached and headed for the nearest of the farm sites thinking that we could do better.

The farm site was very, well, rustic. Let’s face it, it was pretty darn shoddy and everything looked like a complete lash-up, particularly the single electricity connection box. We stopped and had a good look around but did another U-turn with hearts beginning to sink. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d wanted to visit somewhere but had had trouble finding a suitable campsite. We headed for the next farm site on the list.

What a difference! This site was a much neater and better arranged affair. This farmer had actually put some effort into a couple of fields, one shaded and one not, amongst his main fields growing vines for Floc de Gascogne. The farmer, a particularly jolly individual, greeted us with a handshake and began showing us around. He asked if we liked Floc de Gascogne and I somewhat sheepishly had to admit that we’d never actually tasted it. That would never do; he wandered off to fetch a key with which he opened a door into what looked like a bar area (on a farm?) complete with fridge. He rummaged in the fridge and extracted two bottles, one of white Floc de Gascogne and one of red Floc de Gascogne. A dégustation (sampling, tasting) ensued for our benefit accompanied by his commentary. Floc de Gascogne is the Gascony equivalent of Pineau des Charentes, a dessert concoction made from a combination of wine and brandy, the brandy supposedly distilled from wine of the same source grapes. After a 185 mile drive and a slightly fraught search for an acceptable campsite, it was very relaxing, convivial experience. How could one have a warmer welcome?

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , , , ,

Betting Bars

Posted on by Franco — No Comments ↓

The French like a little wager. They appear to be particularly keen on hippisme (horsey stuff). As well as horse racing, there are the less familiar (to me, anyway) trotting races whereby the drivers sit behind their horses aboard skeleton-like chariots racing round an arena. From what I can make out, the riders’ job is to make their horse go as fast as possible without breaking into something other than a trotting gait. (I admit to knowing v. little about horsey stuff but I can recognise walking, trotting, cantering and galloping gaits – he said, knowledgeably.) Trotting races are a little like Ben Hur but without the blood and guts associated with the Roman rotating-blade-equipped chariot wheels and swords. Actually, of course, it would be a lot more entertaining if the armoured chariot wheels and swords were reintroduced.

Anyway, one of the results of the French predilection for a swift wager or two is the reasonable prevalence of bars that double as betting offices. Along with McDonalds establishments (I absolutely refuse to refer to them as restaurants), neither Francine nor I would normally be seen dead in a betting office. However, both establishments here in France generally offer free wi-fi and so, for wandering bloggers, both establishments suddenly become very attractive places. On the road, Francine and I can often be found skulking in such places. Naturally, it’s still necessary to avoid the “food” (I use the term loosely) in a McDonalds but their espresso coffee is quite acceptable and is a reasonable price to pay for some Internet connectivity. Similarly, it’s necessary to avoid risking one’s shirt on a filly in the 3:30 at Royal Ascot but a beer doesn’t go amiss when checking email and posting blog entries such as this in a betting bar.

Speaking of Royal Ascot, there we were sitting in the local betting bar yesterday with the aforementioned beer and Internet connection. As usual, hippisme, in this case Royal Ascot, was on all the unfeasibly large TV screens scattered around the establishment. All seats can see a TV screen so that all punters can risk their shirt on the 3:30 and then watch as they lose it. Outside it was raining, which was largely why we were there in the first place. In between “Le Queen Anne Stakes” and the subsequent race, the TV broadcast cut to very pleasing shot of Her Majesty being driven along in an open carriage under blazing UK sunshine. Glorious sunshine back home in England – pissing with rain over most of France. TV is usually depressing but in this case it was particularly so.

It’s been pissing with rain over most of France now for 24 hours. Grump!

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , ,

Gibier d’Eau

Posted on by Franco — No Comments ↓

While most of the rest of France suffers from unseasonably poor weather, we’ve stayed rather longer than anticipated on the west coast at the Côte Sauvage because it seems largely to be escaping. Normandy and Brittany also seem to be escaping but we’re damned if we’re going to head back north this early.

One of the VTT cycle routes that we tried introduced us to a new facet of our surrounding area. As swift right turn about a mile up the road from our campsite is a small lane at the entrance of which is a sign declaring “Zone Gibier d’Eau”. This is a new phrase to us and we’re completely sure what it is. However, gibier generally refers to game animals. Fond de gibier is game stock.

IMG_6429_Gibier_d'eauThe area has many small water channels and is not unlike the Marais Poitevin which we visited before coming here. Most late afternoons we’ve seen several locals with very rudimentary fishing rods (i.e. sticks with string attached) trying their luck in these small channels. The channels are clearly too small for any worthwhile fish but a sneaky peek into one of the local’s buckets by Franco revealed a collection of écrevisse (fresh water crayfish). Once again, a free food source was typically not being overlooked. Gibier d’Eau, seems to have something to do with game water though, if there’s anything other than crayfish there, I don’t know what it might be.

IMG_5510_Southern_Emerald_Damselfly IMG_5525_Black-tailed_Skimmer Given a decent collection of fresh water channels, when the weather is right there is a also a decent collection of dragonflies and damselflies. Regrettably, the weather recently has not been settled enough for long enough to encourage them to be very active. There are a few specimens, though, and today Francine spotted what I think is a Southern Emerald Damselfly clinging tenaciously to a grass stem in the stiff breeze. The situation didn’t allow for the best of photos but, since it’s new to my collection, here it is. Rather more cooperative was a pristine specimen of a Black-tailed Skimmer, though poor Francine got a little chilled waiting for me to capture it on pixels. 🙁

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , , , , , ,

Nesting Hoopoes

Posted on by Franco — 1 Comment ↓

For the last couple of days, flying rapidly across one of the two fields we have to ourselves on this still blissful campsite, we’ve seen hoopoes. The hoopoe is surely one of nature’s strangest avian creations, resembling a clown with a mohican hair-do. Along with the fact that man’s windpipe and oesophagus sit side by side such that food often attempts to enter the lungs, hoopoes are a fine argument against the existence of a god. Neither is a design befitting an omnipotent being. Long live Darwin.

Anyway, by observation between showers, we spotted the crested little tykes visiting the roof of one of the sanitaires blocks nearby our pitch, a block that is currently closed pending the high-season onslaught. Our bird guide says that hoopoes will nest “in the foundations of your house” which seems rather more curious than dangerous; a hoopoe – a little smaller than a blackbird – is not large enough to undermine any foundations. This pair, we think, is actually nesting in/on the roof of les sanitaires. Their nest is not visible but appears to be behind the top edge of a roof sky-light window, judging by their activity.

IMG_5457_Hoopoe IMG_5466_Hoopoe IMG_6417_Franco_stalking_hoopoes It’s quite uncanny how nature tends to pull an amazing disappearing act as soon as a camera appears with a relatively long lens attached. The hoopoes were no exception. It’s also quite uncanny how many times I seem to find myself pointing a camera with a relatively long lens at a toilet block. One day, Franco is likely to be hauled off by the gendarmes. [Ed: Not a comfortable experience.] However, after a couple of fruitless and less than easy hours hiding behind a suitable tree, and after receiving several strange glances from the adjacent van Dogs family, patience finally paid off. Although the brick-pink tiled roof of les sanitaires does not make a great background for a buff-pink coloured bird – the camouflage may contribute to their choice of nesting site – eventually some half-way decent shots of hoopoes delivering grub(s) to their nest did emerge, to inner whoops of delight, I might add. (Although the 1.4X extender was involved, the images of the hoopoe are cropped ~50%.)

With adults looking this weird, I’d expect young hoopoes to look decidedly odd. Unfortunately, I suspect that eggs are still being incubated and we wont be here long enough to see them fledge.

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , , , , ,

Surfeit of Seafood

Posted on by Franco — No Comments ↓

Surfeit_of_Seafood_Bateau_de_fruits_de_mer The weather pattern broke today. After further overnight rain, the morning rain forgot to stop and allow the afternoon sun to shine. Drat! The solution to the meteorological depression that seem sto be with us was to spend much of the afternoon at La Tremblade sampling the local specialities, oysters. Since it looked as though little else was about to distract us, we pushed the bateau out and, rather than stick to oysters, went the whole hog on a plateau de fruits de mer. The restaurant pushed the bateau out as well – the seafood selection was served in a model boat almost the size of our table. As far as I can remember, one person’s portion consisted of:

  • half a crab;
  • 6 fresh oysters;
  • 6 fresh clams;
  • 6 whelks;
  • 6 langoustines;
  • 8 prawns;
  • countless shrimps;
  • countless winkles.

Clearly, wading through such a feast is worthy of a little time and considerable effort, cracking and sucking various shells. A plateau de fruits de mer  is more of an event than a lunch. Washed down with a bottle of blanc marine, what better way to spend a dismal afternoon?

IMG_6405_Old_oyster_boat IMG_6410_Threatening_sky IMG_6414_Modern_oyster_boat The inlet at La Tremblade is a picturesque and entertainingly bustling little place with the oyster farmers going about their daily business as the tides rise and fall. The modern oyster boats are flat-bottomed metal affairs but yesterday we’d seen a wooden wreck that we took to be the remains of an old oyster boat from years gone by. Little seems to have changed other than the method of construction. The oysters are still damn good, too.

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , , , ,

Monsoon Season

Posted on by Franco — No Comments ↓

We appear to be in the French monsoon. The last two days have exhibited the same pattern: rain overnight and during much of the morning but with a pleasant and largely sunny afternoon. This morning’s heavy rain was accompanied by the occasional peel of thunder for dramatic effect.

We are in oyster country. The Seudre river on the northern edge of this presqu’île (peninsula) is a centre of ostriculture (oyster farming). One of the things we like to do here is to cycle out to the oyster shacks at La Tremblade and have a sunny, relaxing lunch sampling the oyster farmers’ wares. Unfortunately, the lunchtime sun has been notably absent.

IMG_5409_Mornac_sur_Seudre IMG_6398_Mornac_sur_Seudre The Seudre river has many little inlets and settlements along marshy edge, though, and we managed an afternoon trip to Mornac-sur-Seudre, supposedly one of un des plus beaux villages de France (one of the prettiest villages in France). Well, it was undoubtedly quite quaint but I don’t think I’d go quite that far. There were the ever-present and mainly useless shops for tourists, of course. It did, however, have one of the best value parking schemes de France that I’ve seen, other than entirely free ones. Having driven into the first signed car park that we spotted, the ticket machine announced €2 for a ticket valid for the whole of the year. I thought I’d misunderstood but no, the issued ticket proclaimed, “an 2020” (year 2010). Better save the ticket!

As we wandered out into the marsh looking at various artefacts of the oyster industry, we spotted a parking gratuit (free parking) sign.

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , ,

Games We Play

Posted on by Franco — No Comments ↓

Here’s a quaint little game that Francine and I quite often play upon arrival at a new campsite. First, we wander round and select a likely pitch. Second, we drag Guillaume (our caravan) to the chosen pitch and set him up. Third, we settle down to relax, usually with an “installation beer” and often with a slightly late lunch. Fourth, we look around, then at each other, and say, “On second thoughts, I think Guillaume would be happier over there”, indicating a preferred pitch. Fifth, we strike camp and re-site Guillaume all over again.

Having arrived here on Sunday, we were busily re-pitching Guillaume about 50yds from our initial attempt when another English couple approached us and asked, “were you here two years ago?”. Yes, we were, and we recognized them as having been here as well. As it happens, we were now pitching Guillaume in exactly the same spot he had enjoyed two years ago. Why we tried a different spot, neither of us knows. We had a natter to renew acquaintances and continued while they selected a pitch to their liking.

We generally try to visit a mix of new French locations, to investigate, with some known, “safe” and favourite locations. It’s not unusual to bump into others from previous years doing pretty much the same. The Dutch tent, our 50yds-distant nearest neighbour in yesterday’s picture, was also here two years ago in exactly the same spot. My suspicion is that it is here every year in exactly the same spot. The Dutch gentleman in question has a serious tan highlighted by a mass of completely white hair and a white moustache. He looks just like Dick van Dyke. He also has two dogs – spaniels – which he takes for a wander every evening so we’ve tagged him Dick van Dogs.

IMG_5387_Broomrape The morning today was dull but it was market day in La Palmyre. We treated ourselves to half a poulet rôti for lunch from the market stall. The sun returned for the afternoon and we pedalled our way around another 15 miles of new VTT circuit entertained by some very active and uncooperative dragonflies and some much more readily studied stationary flowers. One plant that Francine had been spotting, and thought to be some type of orchid, actually turned out to be an example of a slightly odd group called the Broomrapes. These have no green pigment or leaves, as such, and are parasitic on the roots of other plants. To identify a Broomrape accurately it is necessary to first identify the host plant. Weird! Isn’t evolution wonderful?

IMG_5397_Franco's_Salade_Nicoise Despite our best efforts, though, several poulet calories remained unused so dinner became a relatively lightweight but somewhat labour-intensive Salade Niçoise.

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , , , , ,

Unnatural Habitat

Posted on by Franco — 1 Comment ↓

Those who are aware of Franco and Francine’s preferences might consider them to be somewhat out of their normal habitat – and they’d be right. Though we now are in an area known as La Côte Sauvage (the Wild Coast), which might sound like us, the name is a little misleading. About 100yds down the road from our campsite is a disastrous looking place called “Luna Park” with a water slide and a roller-coaster towering over the surrounding trees. Almost opposite that is another campsite with it’s own water slide. On this road alone there are no fewer than seven campsites and three quad bike rental establishments. One of the campsites is even a year-round nudist campsite – now there’s a mind expanding concept. [Ed: Most other things would shrink!] Then, of course, there’s all the other roads. Though, mercifully, the French never seem to sink to the depths of a classic English seaside town with tacky amusement arcades and kiss-me-quick (embrace-moi-vite?) hats, the description does begin to resemble something out of one of Franco’s nightmares.

Here’s the first thing, however – we’re out of season. You can tell we’re out of season for several reasons:

  1. Luna Park is closed (phew!);
  2. the campsites are not full to bursting;
  3. nobody is screaming about on quad bikes;
  4. some of the speed limits are not in force until 15th June.

What? Yes, the road into La Palmyre has speed limit signs which are in force only between 15th June and 15th September. I know the UK sometimes has seasonal parking restrictions but seasonal speed limits is an interesting concept. The trick to maintaining sanity is clearly to avoid this date range.

IMG_5370_Pastoral_bliss Secondly, our particular campsite is just about the finest camping aire naturelle site that we’ve ever seen. There are no pitches, as such, just oceans of space and loads of electricity hook-ups. I’ve never seen this site in season (and I wouldn’t want to) but now, in low season, we have a section amongst some trees all to ourselves. The nearest other unit, a Dutch tent, must be at least 50yds away (you can just see it far left of the photo). This is so peaceful, it’s one of those campsites one actually looks forward to returning to after a day out.

A third redeeming feature is the fact that, beyond the towns themselves, La Côte Sauvage itself is actually quite wild and rural. There are some very well thought-out cycle tracks just inland of the sand dunes through the coastal pine and broad-leafed woodland as well as across some of the surrounding reclaimed marsh land. It is actually a sensible destination at this time of year for those who like to explore the countryside on a bicycle observing the wildlife.

IMG_6371_Viper's_Bugloss IMG_6374_Red_Helleborine IMG_6375_Rest_HarrowUnfortunately today has been a little unsettled and, though we managed a ride, most of the wildlife exhibiting the equivalent of a heartbeat was keeping itself hidden. C’est la vie! The botanical specimens don’t move, though, so there was something to keep us distracted.

Posted in 2010 Spring Tagged with: , , , ,