Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Thursday 23 December 2005
Quelle aventure! We arrived back here in Saint-Denis yesterday evening after three very interesting and eventful days. The journey to Evreux on Tuesday went well, in spite of freezing fog and very low temperatures. We arrived at about 10.20, parked at the station as planned and walked into the town centre, passing the outdoor restaurant where we'd had lunch in September, on our very first day house hunting.
At Mme V's notaire's office we met my notaire's representative – a nice young woman whom I had met only the day before when she'd telephoned me to finalise papers and apologise for the delay saying she had not been well. She had an unpronounceable Czech/Polish surname; her first name was Carine. Mme V then arrived and at 11.00 we were ushered into Maître B's office; M Urset arrived about 5 minutes late, full of apologies. Me B read through all the parts of the sale agreement, asking me and Mme V to confirm facts and answer questions. All went well until we reached the point where I was to hand over the cheque; I had gone through this with Carine the day before – apparently a banker's cheque was required; however I had said I had transferred sufficient funds and written my own cheque, and she had said that would be fine. Today however Me B said it would not be fine; a banker's cheque was needed, and that failing that, a cheque should have been sent on behalf of my notaire's office. N said that the funds were available, and suggested he contact my bank to check – we had brought details, just in case. Me B disappeared with the details to consult his finance department, then reappeared and asked me to go with him into another office; he was unable to get the details without my PIN number. My mind went blank – this was a number I had not had very long, and only used very few times at home. He dialled several numbers then asked me to enter the first and fifth digits of my PIN – I had jotted it down on the back of the bank letter - and did so, and then amazingly he was writing down my balance! Even though it more than covered the amount of the cheque he still didn’t seem too pleased, and told me again that he was taking a risk, and I told him again that the first I had hard of a bankers' cheque was the day before, when it would have been far too late to do anything about it. The lady in finance said she had sent the information to my notaire's office on 6 December, and I explained that I understood she had been ill. Me B and I went back to his office; I was trying hard not to think what would have happened if I'd got the number wrong. Both Carine and N looked very anxious as I came in, asking by their expressions if everything was all right.
We got to the end of the contract, and I was handed all the keys – several bunches of large silver-coloured ones - no small tinny Yale ones - which made me feel that I was a real chatelaine. We all said goodbye to each other informally; M Urset said he would call in to see us, and N said he must come to dinner. Carine was interested to know what the house was like, and I said that I would bring along photos to her office. We took Mme V's mobile number, and finalised a few more things; I asked after her cats and she said they were waiting in her car! as this was her final journey from La Neuve-Lyre.
As we walked back to the station I was feeling quite exhausted by the concentration and the extra stress of it all, not to mention having got up at six and the freezing cold. N had been surprised when I had said that the first thing I wanted to do afterwards was to have lunch at the lovely Hôtel de l'Ouest where we had lunched last time we were there; now I was even more ready to do so, and over sole normande and a glass of rosé I began to thaw out and feel more human and to get really excited by the prospect of being the owner of such a fine large house.
La Neuve-Lyre looked very different from how it had been in September; there were Christmas decorations and lights in the village and the red virginia creeper all along the front of the garden was thin and untidy. We had with us in the car the two flat-packed pieces of furniture from IKEA, a large fire grate and accessories brought from the house in Italy, an old phone, cutlery, crockery etc, new kettle, plus our overnight bags and changes of old clothing, so drove slowly into the garage at the back and then walked up to the house and unloaded. Fortunately it was nice and warm indoors, as it was still barely above freezing outside. As N said, it was good to be able to take all our time to look round, without feeling we were in anyone's way. I think the first impression we had was that it was far dirtier and less well decorated than we had thought, remembering the sunlight, flowers and furniture from our last visit, but I kept thinking that this is often the case with houses, and that Ainsworth Street had looked less appealing once it was empty.
For the 48 hours or so we were there this continued to be the case; we both achieved or at least started various improvement tasks, but felt that we weren't making much progress. That first afternoon we looked again at the heating apparatus – a huge orange tank in its own little boiler room at the side of the veranda, and tried once more to get acquainted with it and its ways; Mme V had given us various bits of information, and we hoped the fuel delivery man would help. The first appointment was with the firewood man at 6 that evening though, and the logs had already been delivered outside the garage, so the first priority was to get a wheelbarrow in which to shift them.
We went along to the Quincaillerie in the market square; a large high rambling hardware shop which reminded me then and every time since of the Two Ronnies' "Four Candles" sketch (we aren’t always 100% sure of the words we need for what we want, and they stand looking anxious the other side of the counter until they realise what we need.) N asked for thick gardening gloves and oil to treat the many rusty locks, but we had to be accompanied to another shop over the road to view the wheelbarrows, learning en route that this firm also sold fridges, cookers and televisions, and could provide maintenance and after sales service. N wheeled the barrow home and I was left to pay; a handwritten invoice to be presented to a woman behind a glass screen in a sort of makeshift office. I then made my first visit to the little supermarket – called Coccinelle – and bought tea, coffee, milk and excellent biscuits (unfortunately for N I forgot the sugar.) We sat in the dining room in two ancient garden chairs left by Mme V and had what N described as "our first meal".
M Legrand (although he said we could call him Michel) arrived loudly and promptly at 6 pm, coming through the open garage and knocking at the veranda door. He said we were the sixth owners of the house for whom he had provided firewood; that it was best to order in the spring so that the wood could dry out, and to make sure to re-order before we ran out. I paid 95 euros for two and a half stères of logs (a large skip full) He also kindly took away the wheelbarrow briefly somewhere and pumped up the tyre, which was flat.
By that time we felt we ought to be investigating our accommodation for the night, and hoping we would be able to eat there. As I said, I had no idea what it was, just a local phone number for "chambres"; the patronne to whom I had spoken on the phone said it would be "deux petits lits" as opposed to a big one, and that it was on the right on the way to l'Aigle. We found it easily after a few minutes drive; although it was dark it stood at the corner of an exposed road, with two flashing Christmas trees on the front; a Relais Routiers bar with rooms above.
A whole novel could be written about this establishment alone. Our room – up some rickety wooden stairs – didn't seem to be ready, so we hung about waiting on the landing; N said he saw someone's jacket being removed. The beds – with differing designs of flowery sheets - were pushed together and there was very little space around; a wash basin but no soap, glass, wardrobe or coat hangers; though a packet of Gauloises had been thoughtfully left in the drawer of the only bedside table. The patronne said she would fetch a chair for my coat. (In the event we piled all our clothes onto this one chair) We asked if we could eat there and she said yes, although I think we were a little early, and were ushered not into the little restaurant we had seen but into the living room, and told that we would eat when "les gars" arrived. These we could only assume were a couple of other out-of-season boarders.
The living room was small with flowery wallpaper of the kind N supposed favoured by characters in Balzac or Flaubert novels. Much space was taken up by a large wood-burning stove and a huge flat screen television; at least we were able to see the main evening news as we do at home. The walls were filled by the mounted heads of deer and wild boar of varying sizes; N had to duck under the antlers to get in and out of his place at table. Our host was a keen hunter; on the small sofa there was a large hunting dog with a black and white body and brown head, as though it had been transplanted from another dog. "Les gars" eventually arrived, and after much wishing of bonsoir and bon appétit, we began to eat, our hosts serving us as if we were in the restaurant. Again, I thought of Balzac and the boarding house in Le Père Goriot. We both had a very good salade piedmontaise to start; it seemed to be taken for granted that we would want meat and red wine, but they seemed surprised when we declined cheese, dessert and coffee. I had a turkey escalope with cream sauce and N at least half a roast chicken, both with copious chips.
Very tired, we retired to our room and got ready for bed in turns; no-one had told us where the loo was but we found it along the landing for ourselves, and N wished he had brought a dressing gown. I had brought pyjamas, and once I was home and putting them in the washing machine noticed they smelt distinctly of cigarette smoke. I did not sleep well; although it was quite warm I had caught a cold, sore throat and cough from somewhere; (probably the woman at the insurance office) my turkey and chips were not digesting well, N was snoring and there was no possibility of a glass of water, not to mention the day's numerous new experiences.
We had to be up early as the fuel delivery was scheduled for any time from 9 am onwards, and made our way to breakfast through the bar crowded with customers having a drink on their way to work; N assured me this was the case from the numerous Maigret novels he has read. "Les gars" had already had breakfast - we could tell from the remains of the butter and coffee on the tablecloth – when I asked for tea, this perplexed our hosts a little but they found some, and we had bread and jam to eat (no choice) N very distressed by the lack of plates. Outside although about 8.30 it was dark – the shortest day! and the Christmas trees were still flashing and the car was thick with ice; it took a long time to de-ice it despite the patronne helpfully bringing a jug of hot water from the bar.
Once back at La Neuve-Lyre we forgot all about this though, and were happy to see the house again, and feel that each time we went back to it it seemed a little more familiar. We started on shifting the logs, N loaded up the barrow and dumped each load into the middle of the floor of the second garage, henceforth known as the woodshed, and I laid stacked them up against the wall, the final layer taller than me which made it difficult raising up the heavier logs; I was glad I'd got two pairs of thick gloves the day before. It was hard work bending and stretching, and I thought perhaps I didn't need to worry so much about no longer doing any aerobics.
At just before 10 the fuel delivery arrived, in a large lorry decorated with flags and pictures of Johnny Hallyday on the windscreen. The driver filled up the double tank in the first garage with a large noisy hose; it was high and he could only see what he was doing by balancing on the back of an old chair, while N and I held the chair to the ground, and I wondered if my newly acquired insurance would cover me if he fell. N told him that next time there would be a step ladder as we were due to buy that in the afternoon. He suggested we get a couple of indicators to let us know how much fuel was left; and like the log man said that we should re-order before we ran out, when the indicator was at 50. He also showed us how to turn off the heating in the boiler room, and with this and the discovery of several manuals, we thought we were beginning to understand it all. I wrote a large cheque to pay for the fuel, but with any luck it should last beyond this winter and hopefully into next, like the logs.
We finished stacking the logs and went out, me to buy lunch: bread from a very busy boulangerie, and a few delicacies from the traiteur, and N to get cash from the bank and to meet up again at the Quincaillerie. Outside there I met our neighbour from opposite, whom we had first seen on our visit in September, she had just met N, and was very friendly and keen to know just how dirty the house was. Very, I said.
N had to go to the other shop to get the step ladder, while I looked round, and then we also bought a new fluorescent tube for the bathroom light and some key tags. We ate lunch as a sort of buffet balanced on the kitchen work surface, and afterwards I thought it would be easier if I assembled the IKEA kitchen table, and was very annoyed to find that the box contained only 3 table legs instead of 4. (Slightly less annoyed when I got home and discovered I still had the receipt, and very much need to go back and get other things there.)
Over the three days N scraped a lot of flaking paint off ceilings (once he had the ladder) and walls, oiled all the locks and replaced a suspect one on the veranda door, tidied the virginia creeper over the front gate, pruned roses and re-plastered some white panelling in the salon. While at the gate he met another neighbour from over the road, who said she used to come and do the cleaning when the house was inhabited by dentists. (The log man had also mentioned them) N also began to scrape the old torn lino off the back hall floor, to reveal the same small tiles as in the kitchen and coat cupboard, but this is proving a mammoth task. We asked advice at the quincaillerie when we went to get a spade and the new lock, and they sold us some acetone to dissolve the glue, and a scraper, which wasn't very effective. Apart from this and the kitchen table the other thing that completely foxed us was how to get the new fluorescent tube in the bathroom light; it was by definition difficult to see in the dark, and also high up; we both had several tries but have not succeeded yet. Fortunately there is another light in the bathroom. I swept up all the flaking plaster, measured all the windows for curtains (there again, once I had the ladder) and tried to brush down all the cobwebs I could see, and there were so many! some higher than I could reach. I also made a start on cleaning some of the windows; external ones and their shutters, which didn't seem to have been cleaned for years, and internal doors, mostly white with little glass panes, beautiful once they were clean. I also took measurements in the ground floor bathroom, ready to ask Lapeyre for an estimate, and cleaned the sink, hob and kitchen work surfaces. While going round I looked at walls and carpets and made some more decisions on places for furniture and pictures.
Many of the lights were just bulbs hanging out of the wall on flexes, and a lot of bulbs seem just not to have been replaced. We bought what we could at the local shop, and then at the larger Intermarché supermarket when we went out on Wednesday afternoon, but some have had to wait until we got back to Saint-Denis. There must be another way round this! The other thing that confused us was keys; there are four external doors, not including the French windows; there is one common key but others too, plus the garages, garden gate and post box at the front. We then found a large box full of other unidentified keys (hence the need for key tags!) and N spent a lot of time walking round trying to fit them in locks and identify them. We drove as far as Verneuil sur Avre and ordered a phone, or rather a phone number. N bought a newspaper to brighten up the evening at the Relais des Amis, and I got a magazine called Maisons Normandes, which I decided I was now eligible for. It has some beautiful pictures, and we have both spent a lot of time perusing it.
Our second night at the Relais was much like the first; we had asparagus to start dinner and then were given some unidentified meat - there was no choice – with spaghetti. N decided as we were in Normandy we should have some cider; it was very good and we quickly polished off the whole bottle, and slept better for it! (and possibly the log stacking). I had remembered to take the bottle of water, so at least we could have a drink in the night. We paid and left on Thursday morning, with all our luggage this time, and continued doing all we could at the house with another picnic lunch, working up to leaving for Paris at about 5.15, mindful of the fact that we would be arriving back next time just before the furniture, so tried to leave all as ready and tidy as we could. The journey home was good; although dark it was clear and dry and there was not much traffic, and we were back in Saint-Denis within two and a half hours.
Quelle aventure! We arrived back here in Saint-Denis yesterday evening after three very interesting and eventful days. The journey to Evreux on Tuesday went well, in spite of freezing fog and very low temperatures. We arrived at about 10.20, parked at the station as planned and walked into the town centre, passing the outdoor restaurant where we'd had lunch in September, on our very first day house hunting.
At Mme V's notaire's office we met my notaire's representative – a nice young woman whom I had met only the day before when she'd telephoned me to finalise papers and apologise for the delay saying she had not been well. She had an unpronounceable Czech/Polish surname; her first name was Carine. Mme V then arrived and at 11.00 we were ushered into Maître B's office; M Urset arrived about 5 minutes late, full of apologies. Me B read through all the parts of the sale agreement, asking me and Mme V to confirm facts and answer questions. All went well until we reached the point where I was to hand over the cheque; I had gone through this with Carine the day before – apparently a banker's cheque was required; however I had said I had transferred sufficient funds and written my own cheque, and she had said that would be fine. Today however Me B said it would not be fine; a banker's cheque was needed, and that failing that, a cheque should have been sent on behalf of my notaire's office. N said that the funds were available, and suggested he contact my bank to check – we had brought details, just in case. Me B disappeared with the details to consult his finance department, then reappeared and asked me to go with him into another office; he was unable to get the details without my PIN number. My mind went blank – this was a number I had not had very long, and only used very few times at home. He dialled several numbers then asked me to enter the first and fifth digits of my PIN – I had jotted it down on the back of the bank letter - and did so, and then amazingly he was writing down my balance! Even though it more than covered the amount of the cheque he still didn’t seem too pleased, and told me again that he was taking a risk, and I told him again that the first I had hard of a bankers' cheque was the day before, when it would have been far too late to do anything about it. The lady in finance said she had sent the information to my notaire's office on 6 December, and I explained that I understood she had been ill. Me B and I went back to his office; I was trying hard not to think what would have happened if I'd got the number wrong. Both Carine and N looked very anxious as I came in, asking by their expressions if everything was all right.
We got to the end of the contract, and I was handed all the keys – several bunches of large silver-coloured ones - no small tinny Yale ones - which made me feel that I was a real chatelaine. We all said goodbye to each other informally; M Urset said he would call in to see us, and N said he must come to dinner. Carine was interested to know what the house was like, and I said that I would bring along photos to her office. We took Mme V's mobile number, and finalised a few more things; I asked after her cats and she said they were waiting in her car! as this was her final journey from La Neuve-Lyre.
As we walked back to the station I was feeling quite exhausted by the concentration and the extra stress of it all, not to mention having got up at six and the freezing cold. N had been surprised when I had said that the first thing I wanted to do afterwards was to have lunch at the lovely Hôtel de l'Ouest where we had lunched last time we were there; now I was even more ready to do so, and over sole normande and a glass of rosé I began to thaw out and feel more human and to get really excited by the prospect of being the owner of such a fine large house.
La Neuve-Lyre looked very different from how it had been in September; there were Christmas decorations and lights in the village and the red virginia creeper all along the front of the garden was thin and untidy. We had with us in the car the two flat-packed pieces of furniture from IKEA, a large fire grate and accessories brought from the house in Italy, an old phone, cutlery, crockery etc, new kettle, plus our overnight bags and changes of old clothing, so drove slowly into the garage at the back and then walked up to the house and unloaded. Fortunately it was nice and warm indoors, as it was still barely above freezing outside. As N said, it was good to be able to take all our time to look round, without feeling we were in anyone's way. I think the first impression we had was that it was far dirtier and less well decorated than we had thought, remembering the sunlight, flowers and furniture from our last visit, but I kept thinking that this is often the case with houses, and that Ainsworth Street had looked less appealing once it was empty.
For the 48 hours or so we were there this continued to be the case; we both achieved or at least started various improvement tasks, but felt that we weren't making much progress. That first afternoon we looked again at the heating apparatus – a huge orange tank in its own little boiler room at the side of the veranda, and tried once more to get acquainted with it and its ways; Mme V had given us various bits of information, and we hoped the fuel delivery man would help. The first appointment was with the firewood man at 6 that evening though, and the logs had already been delivered outside the garage, so the first priority was to get a wheelbarrow in which to shift them.
We went along to the Quincaillerie in the market square; a large high rambling hardware shop which reminded me then and every time since of the Two Ronnies' "Four Candles" sketch (we aren’t always 100% sure of the words we need for what we want, and they stand looking anxious the other side of the counter until they realise what we need.) N asked for thick gardening gloves and oil to treat the many rusty locks, but we had to be accompanied to another shop over the road to view the wheelbarrows, learning en route that this firm also sold fridges, cookers and televisions, and could provide maintenance and after sales service. N wheeled the barrow home and I was left to pay; a handwritten invoice to be presented to a woman behind a glass screen in a sort of makeshift office. I then made my first visit to the little supermarket – called Coccinelle – and bought tea, coffee, milk and excellent biscuits (unfortunately for N I forgot the sugar.) We sat in the dining room in two ancient garden chairs left by Mme V and had what N described as "our first meal".
M Legrand (although he said we could call him Michel) arrived loudly and promptly at 6 pm, coming through the open garage and knocking at the veranda door. He said we were the sixth owners of the house for whom he had provided firewood; that it was best to order in the spring so that the wood could dry out, and to make sure to re-order before we ran out. I paid 95 euros for two and a half stères of logs (a large skip full) He also kindly took away the wheelbarrow briefly somewhere and pumped up the tyre, which was flat.
By that time we felt we ought to be investigating our accommodation for the night, and hoping we would be able to eat there. As I said, I had no idea what it was, just a local phone number for "chambres"; the patronne to whom I had spoken on the phone said it would be "deux petits lits" as opposed to a big one, and that it was on the right on the way to l'Aigle. We found it easily after a few minutes drive; although it was dark it stood at the corner of an exposed road, with two flashing Christmas trees on the front; a Relais Routiers bar with rooms above.
A whole novel could be written about this establishment alone. Our room – up some rickety wooden stairs – didn't seem to be ready, so we hung about waiting on the landing; N said he saw someone's jacket being removed. The beds – with differing designs of flowery sheets - were pushed together and there was very little space around; a wash basin but no soap, glass, wardrobe or coat hangers; though a packet of Gauloises had been thoughtfully left in the drawer of the only bedside table. The patronne said she would fetch a chair for my coat. (In the event we piled all our clothes onto this one chair) We asked if we could eat there and she said yes, although I think we were a little early, and were ushered not into the little restaurant we had seen but into the living room, and told that we would eat when "les gars" arrived. These we could only assume were a couple of other out-of-season boarders.
The living room was small with flowery wallpaper of the kind N supposed favoured by characters in Balzac or Flaubert novels. Much space was taken up by a large wood-burning stove and a huge flat screen television; at least we were able to see the main evening news as we do at home. The walls were filled by the mounted heads of deer and wild boar of varying sizes; N had to duck under the antlers to get in and out of his place at table. Our host was a keen hunter; on the small sofa there was a large hunting dog with a black and white body and brown head, as though it had been transplanted from another dog. "Les gars" eventually arrived, and after much wishing of bonsoir and bon appétit, we began to eat, our hosts serving us as if we were in the restaurant. Again, I thought of Balzac and the boarding house in Le Père Goriot. We both had a very good salade piedmontaise to start; it seemed to be taken for granted that we would want meat and red wine, but they seemed surprised when we declined cheese, dessert and coffee. I had a turkey escalope with cream sauce and N at least half a roast chicken, both with copious chips.
Very tired, we retired to our room and got ready for bed in turns; no-one had told us where the loo was but we found it along the landing for ourselves, and N wished he had brought a dressing gown. I had brought pyjamas, and once I was home and putting them in the washing machine noticed they smelt distinctly of cigarette smoke. I did not sleep well; although it was quite warm I had caught a cold, sore throat and cough from somewhere; (probably the woman at the insurance office) my turkey and chips were not digesting well, N was snoring and there was no possibility of a glass of water, not to mention the day's numerous new experiences.
We had to be up early as the fuel delivery was scheduled for any time from 9 am onwards, and made our way to breakfast through the bar crowded with customers having a drink on their way to work; N assured me this was the case from the numerous Maigret novels he has read. "Les gars" had already had breakfast - we could tell from the remains of the butter and coffee on the tablecloth – when I asked for tea, this perplexed our hosts a little but they found some, and we had bread and jam to eat (no choice) N very distressed by the lack of plates. Outside although about 8.30 it was dark – the shortest day! and the Christmas trees were still flashing and the car was thick with ice; it took a long time to de-ice it despite the patronne helpfully bringing a jug of hot water from the bar.
Once back at La Neuve-Lyre we forgot all about this though, and were happy to see the house again, and feel that each time we went back to it it seemed a little more familiar. We started on shifting the logs, N loaded up the barrow and dumped each load into the middle of the floor of the second garage, henceforth known as the woodshed, and I laid stacked them up against the wall, the final layer taller than me which made it difficult raising up the heavier logs; I was glad I'd got two pairs of thick gloves the day before. It was hard work bending and stretching, and I thought perhaps I didn't need to worry so much about no longer doing any aerobics.
At just before 10 the fuel delivery arrived, in a large lorry decorated with flags and pictures of Johnny Hallyday on the windscreen. The driver filled up the double tank in the first garage with a large noisy hose; it was high and he could only see what he was doing by balancing on the back of an old chair, while N and I held the chair to the ground, and I wondered if my newly acquired insurance would cover me if he fell. N told him that next time there would be a step ladder as we were due to buy that in the afternoon. He suggested we get a couple of indicators to let us know how much fuel was left; and like the log man said that we should re-order before we ran out, when the indicator was at 50. He also showed us how to turn off the heating in the boiler room, and with this and the discovery of several manuals, we thought we were beginning to understand it all. I wrote a large cheque to pay for the fuel, but with any luck it should last beyond this winter and hopefully into next, like the logs.
We finished stacking the logs and went out, me to buy lunch: bread from a very busy boulangerie, and a few delicacies from the traiteur, and N to get cash from the bank and to meet up again at the Quincaillerie. Outside there I met our neighbour from opposite, whom we had first seen on our visit in September, she had just met N, and was very friendly and keen to know just how dirty the house was. Very, I said.
N had to go to the other shop to get the step ladder, while I looked round, and then we also bought a new fluorescent tube for the bathroom light and some key tags. We ate lunch as a sort of buffet balanced on the kitchen work surface, and afterwards I thought it would be easier if I assembled the IKEA kitchen table, and was very annoyed to find that the box contained only 3 table legs instead of 4. (Slightly less annoyed when I got home and discovered I still had the receipt, and very much need to go back and get other things there.)
Over the three days N scraped a lot of flaking paint off ceilings (once he had the ladder) and walls, oiled all the locks and replaced a suspect one on the veranda door, tidied the virginia creeper over the front gate, pruned roses and re-plastered some white panelling in the salon. While at the gate he met another neighbour from over the road, who said she used to come and do the cleaning when the house was inhabited by dentists. (The log man had also mentioned them) N also began to scrape the old torn lino off the back hall floor, to reveal the same small tiles as in the kitchen and coat cupboard, but this is proving a mammoth task. We asked advice at the quincaillerie when we went to get a spade and the new lock, and they sold us some acetone to dissolve the glue, and a scraper, which wasn't very effective. Apart from this and the kitchen table the other thing that completely foxed us was how to get the new fluorescent tube in the bathroom light; it was by definition difficult to see in the dark, and also high up; we both had several tries but have not succeeded yet. Fortunately there is another light in the bathroom. I swept up all the flaking plaster, measured all the windows for curtains (there again, once I had the ladder) and tried to brush down all the cobwebs I could see, and there were so many! some higher than I could reach. I also made a start on cleaning some of the windows; external ones and their shutters, which didn't seem to have been cleaned for years, and internal doors, mostly white with little glass panes, beautiful once they were clean. I also took measurements in the ground floor bathroom, ready to ask Lapeyre for an estimate, and cleaned the sink, hob and kitchen work surfaces. While going round I looked at walls and carpets and made some more decisions on places for furniture and pictures.
Many of the lights were just bulbs hanging out of the wall on flexes, and a lot of bulbs seem just not to have been replaced. We bought what we could at the local shop, and then at the larger Intermarché supermarket when we went out on Wednesday afternoon, but some have had to wait until we got back to Saint-Denis. There must be another way round this! The other thing that confused us was keys; there are four external doors, not including the French windows; there is one common key but others too, plus the garages, garden gate and post box at the front. We then found a large box full of other unidentified keys (hence the need for key tags!) and N spent a lot of time walking round trying to fit them in locks and identify them. We drove as far as Verneuil sur Avre and ordered a phone, or rather a phone number. N bought a newspaper to brighten up the evening at the Relais des Amis, and I got a magazine called Maisons Normandes, which I decided I was now eligible for. It has some beautiful pictures, and we have both spent a lot of time perusing it.
Our second night at the Relais was much like the first; we had asparagus to start dinner and then were given some unidentified meat - there was no choice – with spaghetti. N decided as we were in Normandy we should have some cider; it was very good and we quickly polished off the whole bottle, and slept better for it! (and possibly the log stacking). I had remembered to take the bottle of water, so at least we could have a drink in the night. We paid and left on Thursday morning, with all our luggage this time, and continued doing all we could at the house with another picnic lunch, working up to leaving for Paris at about 5.15, mindful of the fact that we would be arriving back next time just before the furniture, so tried to leave all as ready and tidy as we could. The journey home was good; although dark it was clear and dry and there was not much traffic, and we were back in Saint-Denis within two and a half hours.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Tuesday 13 December 2005
An eventful day. Just before going to bed last night I checked the e-mails and finally there was a message from Mme V, with apologies for the delay, but she had not been at her computer much lately. Anyway, she was not planning to leave any beds or sofas, so that meant there was no point or need in taking any bedding, and we would have to find hotel accommodation for the night of the 20th, and possibly 21st too. Still no message from Abels, so this morning I decided it was time to phone them. As I suspected they were still trying to work something out for us, but it transpired that there was no possibility of delivery before Christmas, or even between Christmas and New Year, as there was just no-one available, so we have settled for the first possible exclusive delivery, on Wednesday 4 January, as it seemed we could be waiting indefinitely for a part load. A part load costs 10% less, so we (I!) will be paying a little more, but it will be worth it. At last we now know what is happening when. The next task was to find some accommodation, so I called the only local number I had, and booked a room for Tuesday and Wednesday nights. I don't think it's quite as local as I had hoped, and not sure if it's a hotel or what; we shall see! Then rang to arrange a fuel delivery - as suggested by Mme V - for soon after our arrival, in fact Wednesday morning; fortunately this went quite well, as I know nothing about this kind of fuel – in any language – and was relieved when the lady at the other end said "oui, comme d'habitude". I tried to arrange a delivery of firewood too; but so far there has been no reply.
Then other main event of the morning was the arrival of my computer. N had been keenly following on screen the progress of its journey, and was pleased when it arrived as expected. The first I knew of it was when he came into the bathroom to ask for help in carrying a huge box up the stairs; this was in addition to a smaller one he had already brought up. Inside the bigger box were two smaller boxes, so we got rid of the larger one and lots of paper packing. The three boxes contain the computer itself (the heavy one) the screen and the printer. It is a wonderfully up-to-date machine which claims to act as a TV and radio too, as well as scanning and photocopying. We rested the temptation to open any more boxes as we thought we should never get everything back inside. They are now all sitting on the spare room bed, and have been added to the list of Things to Go into The Van (9 January) as opposed to Things to Go into The Car (20 December).
All this meant that I never got to the "mardi musical" at the Eglise Saint-Roch, but I didn't mind too much as I have discovered three other free concerts I could go to this week on Thursday, Friday and Saturday! This is courtesy of a free monthly newspaper called Cadences, which is handed out in front of the opera and has listings of all concerts, ballet, theatre, and opera.
My shopping trip in the afternoon was quite ordinary really, but nicer than usual. There are more and more Christmassy things to see, in particular a Christmas market by the Hôtel de Ville, with about 20 little wooden chalets selling lots of nice things I don't really need; stained glass, foie gras, Indian bedspreads, incense, handbags, hand-drawn portraits (not in pencil) Christmas tablecloths, candles, toys and so on. The only thing I did buy was some local honey. There are also some animals to look at: cows, donkeys, sheep, goats, rabbits, geese and chickens – I'm not quite sure why, N says it is "for local colour", and because they are in the Bible! (Not sure about the last three….) There are a lot of external decorations on buildings too, in particular several copies of a back view of a plastic Father Christmas hung on quite a few balconies, so that he appears to be climbing up. The man at the vegetable stall was chatty, and asked if I were going back to England for Christmas, and the girl in the boulangerie smiled at me and let me have one of the fresh hot baguettes instead of those already out.
Thursday 15 December 2005
After several more attempts I eventually got through to the provider of firewood at La Neuve-Lyre; he is coming to see us about the delivery next Tuesday at 6 pm, as this is not his main job and he delivers outside working hours. N thinks we should offer him a glass of wine; we have a case of wine in the car already, and shall only have three glasses, so perhaps we will. (N also thinks his name ought to be M Dubois, which it isn't, and could be confusing.)
Today I have been to a free lunchtime concert (except that the programme cost 5 euros) at the Salle Cortot, near the Boulevard Malesherbes. An unusual programme: "The Art of Fugue", J S Bach, in an arrangement for brass, wind and organ. An interesting auditorium too, very low and tiered and wood panelled. It went on for the best part of two hours, and towards the end after every movement a few people tiptoed out, presumably because their lunch hours had ended. There was nothing interesting at all to look at by metro Malesherbes, so I came straight back. I could have gone by RER if I had wanted as the "movement social" of ten days ago which turned into a strike finally finished yesterday. I was very surprised to hear on the news that to make up for all the inconvenience, time and money lost, all trains on our line are free this weekend (so that people can finish their Christmas shopping!) and that monthly rail cards for January will be 40% less than usual!
Saturday 17 December 2005
The final chorale before Christmas last Thursday evening was very enjoyable, with vast amounts of food and drink, including some interesting spicy things made by ladies from the Antilles, and two thermos jugs of hot wine, punch, fruit tarts, cider, cheeses, champagne, biscuits and many more. (I think I drank at least five different things). One of the men gave an amusing recitation, and I said to the chef that I would not be there when they began again on 5 January, and perhaps not so often after that, and he said that was fine, come when I could and I would be very welcome. I asked when the next concert was, and he laughed and said he didn't know, we would do some more rehearsing and then see. Again, very unlike Cambridge! I also spoke to one or two of the women, who were obviously intrigued by my reading in English the week before, and wondered what une anglaise could be doing in Saint-Denis.
Yesterday, Friday, was busy with three completely different activities and a lot of walking. In the morning I went to see the newly refurbished covered market, finally open - after about nine months - in its improved home. (N was busy interviewing one of the long time residents of Les Ursulines for his project) Unfortunately it was raining, and a lot of the stalls outside were suffering with wet produce. Inside there was a band playing very loudly something between traditional jazz and bal musette, and just as I arrived they started walking up and down between the stalls, some of them on stilts. What with trying to avoid the musicians, the crowds and the snail stall, I didn't get very much bought. I like the way the French blend music with shopping – when I was with Gill in the outdoor markets near Carcassonne last year people were sitting at tables with all their fruit & veg, having a drink and listening to jazz.
In the afternoon I went to the local insurance office, to insure my new house. I had written a week or so before to the head office, at N's prompting; I could see it had to be done just in case it all burned down next week. We had been waiting for a reply which eventually came yesterday, suggesting we go to the office in Saint-Denis. N – who was also having a very busy time too - was going to the dentist for his final appointment; Friday this week as he was at a reception at the Sorbonne on Thursday, so I went my own. It was in an area of Saint-Denis I hadn't visited much, and still raining, but all went well; I saw a helpful young woman who arranged everything, including the address of an office at Verneuil sur Avre where I can go once in situ, and I paid to be covered from 11 am next Tuesday morning (the signature!) until 1 April; from whence I will pay in 6 monthly instalments. This involved writing my very first cheque in euros; with which she was very helpful. And good practice for when I have to write the Very Large cheque next Tuesday. Reading through the literature later I was pleased to discover I kept being referred to as "chef de famille", (possibly in charge of N and perhaps a future cat?) and that I am covered against all manner of things, but not civil war, so let us hope we aren't invaded by Brittany.
I came home and then set out again for a free 6.30 pm Mozart concert at the Maison de Radio France, in the south-west of Paris. It seemed best to go by metro, to Ranelagh which was the local station the very first time I came to Paris on a school trip in 1962, and hadn't changed that much. There was a very long walk down the rue de Ranelagh, full of very smart apartment buildings, each of which had a Christmas tree in the hall-way. Eventually I reached the Maison de la Radio, very large and impressive, with large queues of people inside and out, only to find that all the places were taken; it seems you have to get there very early indeed for a good programme. However, I decided it had all been worth it just for the view over the river of the Eiffel Tower covered from head to foot in twinkling golden sparkly Christmas lights. It was a similar moment to the one almost exactly 36 years ago when I was sitting in a metro train which came out of a tunnel to cross the river and there was Notre Dame all covered in snow.
I decided not to walk all the way back to metro Ranelagh as there was an RER station right there, a large modern high up one. Indeed the train was high up too, and crossed the river over a bridge – more spectacular views of the Eiffel Tower, other beautifully lit buildings and river boats full of people having dinner – and then for some while went along the quai as far as Invalides, where I changed to the metro. At least I was home in time to have dinner with N (pizzas from the market that morning) and to catch up with news of the house insurance, the dentist and my exciting evening.
Sunday 18 December 2005
Yesterday morning we took the last few things to the car ready for Tuesday – except for our overnight bags – and then moved it to its temporary home in the Parking Municipal. We will have to leave very early in order to get to Evreux for the appointment at 11 am, getting up and setting off in the dark. I have also put all my papers together in order (with the help of some folders from Carrefour) On the way back from the parking we called in at a superior frozen food store and bought some good things to eat at Christmas, ready for when we come back from Normandy on Thursday. The other event was the arrival of a Christmas parcel from Madeleine, containing a very small white Christmas tree and some appropriate decorations; she thought we ought not to be without one! It didn't take as long to set up and dress as usual, but I enjoyed it nevertheless. I put together the Angel Chimes too, for the dining table, and N found tinsel and a large paper ball and put those up, and continued to find ways to display more than twice the usual number of Christmas cards - his and mine - all mingled together in a great intimacy.
An eventful day. Just before going to bed last night I checked the e-mails and finally there was a message from Mme V, with apologies for the delay, but she had not been at her computer much lately. Anyway, she was not planning to leave any beds or sofas, so that meant there was no point or need in taking any bedding, and we would have to find hotel accommodation for the night of the 20th, and possibly 21st too. Still no message from Abels, so this morning I decided it was time to phone them. As I suspected they were still trying to work something out for us, but it transpired that there was no possibility of delivery before Christmas, or even between Christmas and New Year, as there was just no-one available, so we have settled for the first possible exclusive delivery, on Wednesday 4 January, as it seemed we could be waiting indefinitely for a part load. A part load costs 10% less, so we (I!) will be paying a little more, but it will be worth it. At last we now know what is happening when. The next task was to find some accommodation, so I called the only local number I had, and booked a room for Tuesday and Wednesday nights. I don't think it's quite as local as I had hoped, and not sure if it's a hotel or what; we shall see! Then rang to arrange a fuel delivery - as suggested by Mme V - for soon after our arrival, in fact Wednesday morning; fortunately this went quite well, as I know nothing about this kind of fuel – in any language – and was relieved when the lady at the other end said "oui, comme d'habitude". I tried to arrange a delivery of firewood too; but so far there has been no reply.
Then other main event of the morning was the arrival of my computer. N had been keenly following on screen the progress of its journey, and was pleased when it arrived as expected. The first I knew of it was when he came into the bathroom to ask for help in carrying a huge box up the stairs; this was in addition to a smaller one he had already brought up. Inside the bigger box were two smaller boxes, so we got rid of the larger one and lots of paper packing. The three boxes contain the computer itself (the heavy one) the screen and the printer. It is a wonderfully up-to-date machine which claims to act as a TV and radio too, as well as scanning and photocopying. We rested the temptation to open any more boxes as we thought we should never get everything back inside. They are now all sitting on the spare room bed, and have been added to the list of Things to Go into The Van (9 January) as opposed to Things to Go into The Car (20 December).
All this meant that I never got to the "mardi musical" at the Eglise Saint-Roch, but I didn't mind too much as I have discovered three other free concerts I could go to this week on Thursday, Friday and Saturday! This is courtesy of a free monthly newspaper called Cadences, which is handed out in front of the opera and has listings of all concerts, ballet, theatre, and opera.
My shopping trip in the afternoon was quite ordinary really, but nicer than usual. There are more and more Christmassy things to see, in particular a Christmas market by the Hôtel de Ville, with about 20 little wooden chalets selling lots of nice things I don't really need; stained glass, foie gras, Indian bedspreads, incense, handbags, hand-drawn portraits (not in pencil) Christmas tablecloths, candles, toys and so on. The only thing I did buy was some local honey. There are also some animals to look at: cows, donkeys, sheep, goats, rabbits, geese and chickens – I'm not quite sure why, N says it is "for local colour", and because they are in the Bible! (Not sure about the last three….) There are a lot of external decorations on buildings too, in particular several copies of a back view of a plastic Father Christmas hung on quite a few balconies, so that he appears to be climbing up. The man at the vegetable stall was chatty, and asked if I were going back to England for Christmas, and the girl in the boulangerie smiled at me and let me have one of the fresh hot baguettes instead of those already out.
Thursday 15 December 2005
After several more attempts I eventually got through to the provider of firewood at La Neuve-Lyre; he is coming to see us about the delivery next Tuesday at 6 pm, as this is not his main job and he delivers outside working hours. N thinks we should offer him a glass of wine; we have a case of wine in the car already, and shall only have three glasses, so perhaps we will. (N also thinks his name ought to be M Dubois, which it isn't, and could be confusing.)
Today I have been to a free lunchtime concert (except that the programme cost 5 euros) at the Salle Cortot, near the Boulevard Malesherbes. An unusual programme: "The Art of Fugue", J S Bach, in an arrangement for brass, wind and organ. An interesting auditorium too, very low and tiered and wood panelled. It went on for the best part of two hours, and towards the end after every movement a few people tiptoed out, presumably because their lunch hours had ended. There was nothing interesting at all to look at by metro Malesherbes, so I came straight back. I could have gone by RER if I had wanted as the "movement social" of ten days ago which turned into a strike finally finished yesterday. I was very surprised to hear on the news that to make up for all the inconvenience, time and money lost, all trains on our line are free this weekend (so that people can finish their Christmas shopping!) and that monthly rail cards for January will be 40% less than usual!
Saturday 17 December 2005
The final chorale before Christmas last Thursday evening was very enjoyable, with vast amounts of food and drink, including some interesting spicy things made by ladies from the Antilles, and two thermos jugs of hot wine, punch, fruit tarts, cider, cheeses, champagne, biscuits and many more. (I think I drank at least five different things). One of the men gave an amusing recitation, and I said to the chef that I would not be there when they began again on 5 January, and perhaps not so often after that, and he said that was fine, come when I could and I would be very welcome. I asked when the next concert was, and he laughed and said he didn't know, we would do some more rehearsing and then see. Again, very unlike Cambridge! I also spoke to one or two of the women, who were obviously intrigued by my reading in English the week before, and wondered what une anglaise could be doing in Saint-Denis.
Yesterday, Friday, was busy with three completely different activities and a lot of walking. In the morning I went to see the newly refurbished covered market, finally open - after about nine months - in its improved home. (N was busy interviewing one of the long time residents of Les Ursulines for his project) Unfortunately it was raining, and a lot of the stalls outside were suffering with wet produce. Inside there was a band playing very loudly something between traditional jazz and bal musette, and just as I arrived they started walking up and down between the stalls, some of them on stilts. What with trying to avoid the musicians, the crowds and the snail stall, I didn't get very much bought. I like the way the French blend music with shopping – when I was with Gill in the outdoor markets near Carcassonne last year people were sitting at tables with all their fruit & veg, having a drink and listening to jazz.
In the afternoon I went to the local insurance office, to insure my new house. I had written a week or so before to the head office, at N's prompting; I could see it had to be done just in case it all burned down next week. We had been waiting for a reply which eventually came yesterday, suggesting we go to the office in Saint-Denis. N – who was also having a very busy time too - was going to the dentist for his final appointment; Friday this week as he was at a reception at the Sorbonne on Thursday, so I went my own. It was in an area of Saint-Denis I hadn't visited much, and still raining, but all went well; I saw a helpful young woman who arranged everything, including the address of an office at Verneuil sur Avre where I can go once in situ, and I paid to be covered from 11 am next Tuesday morning (the signature!) until 1 April; from whence I will pay in 6 monthly instalments. This involved writing my very first cheque in euros; with which she was very helpful. And good practice for when I have to write the Very Large cheque next Tuesday. Reading through the literature later I was pleased to discover I kept being referred to as "chef de famille", (possibly in charge of N and perhaps a future cat?) and that I am covered against all manner of things, but not civil war, so let us hope we aren't invaded by Brittany.
I came home and then set out again for a free 6.30 pm Mozart concert at the Maison de Radio France, in the south-west of Paris. It seemed best to go by metro, to Ranelagh which was the local station the very first time I came to Paris on a school trip in 1962, and hadn't changed that much. There was a very long walk down the rue de Ranelagh, full of very smart apartment buildings, each of which had a Christmas tree in the hall-way. Eventually I reached the Maison de la Radio, very large and impressive, with large queues of people inside and out, only to find that all the places were taken; it seems you have to get there very early indeed for a good programme. However, I decided it had all been worth it just for the view over the river of the Eiffel Tower covered from head to foot in twinkling golden sparkly Christmas lights. It was a similar moment to the one almost exactly 36 years ago when I was sitting in a metro train which came out of a tunnel to cross the river and there was Notre Dame all covered in snow.
I decided not to walk all the way back to metro Ranelagh as there was an RER station right there, a large modern high up one. Indeed the train was high up too, and crossed the river over a bridge – more spectacular views of the Eiffel Tower, other beautifully lit buildings and river boats full of people having dinner – and then for some while went along the quai as far as Invalides, where I changed to the metro. At least I was home in time to have dinner with N (pizzas from the market that morning) and to catch up with news of the house insurance, the dentist and my exciting evening.
Sunday 18 December 2005
Yesterday morning we took the last few things to the car ready for Tuesday – except for our overnight bags – and then moved it to its temporary home in the Parking Municipal. We will have to leave very early in order to get to Evreux for the appointment at 11 am, getting up and setting off in the dark. I have also put all my papers together in order (with the help of some folders from Carrefour) On the way back from the parking we called in at a superior frozen food store and bought some good things to eat at Christmas, ready for when we come back from Normandy on Thursday. The other event was the arrival of a Christmas parcel from Madeleine, containing a very small white Christmas tree and some appropriate decorations; she thought we ought not to be without one! It didn't take as long to set up and dress as usual, but I enjoyed it nevertheless. I put together the Angel Chimes too, for the dining table, and N found tinsel and a large paper ball and put those up, and continued to find ways to display more than twice the usual number of Christmas cards - his and mine - all mingled together in a great intimacy.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Saturday 10 December 2005
I have now finished reading Il Disprezzo by Alberto Moravia, only to discover that the film Le Mépris is no longer showing in Paris. I have decided that life is often full of these Alice in Wonderland moments….. I should now get back to reading War and Peace, but am currently going through about half a dozen house magazines in English brought by Madeleine.
In fact I should have taken War and Peace to the post office with me yesterday when I went to post the family Christmas parcels; I waited 50 minutes in the queue, and they cost a total of 25 euros to post.
House-wise things are now going backwards instead of forwards; after the flurry of activity on Tuesday afternoon we have had no reply at all from Mme V to our message asking whether or not she would be leaving any furniture at all that we could sleep on prior to mine arriving from Cambridge. I also sent a message to Abels asking if there was a definite time we might expect their delivery on the 22nd, only to be told that is was now unlikely that they could confirm delivery before Christmas as one client whose delivery was to be made with ours was no longer buying in France, and the other one they were currently unable to contact. Somewhat deflated by all this, we said we were disappointed and asked what would be the price if it were to be a single load delivery, instead of part load. Since then we have heard nothing from either Mme V or Abels; I can only hope they are both trying to come up with a satisfactory answer for us. N thinks perhaps Mme V has already packed up her computer ready to move, but this seems unlikely to me.
Wednesday was one of those days which turned out to be far more interesting than originally expected. The plan for the afternoon was to return to Avis Rentals, taking the metro – only one stop, and then to go a few stops further on to Clichy to visit a branch of a store called Lapeyre (kitchens, bathrooms, and so on) as there is a larger store near La Neuve-Lyre and it seemed a good idea to do some preliminary research. The only problem with renting the van at Avis was that there would be none of the size we wanted available until 9 January (we were thinking of 27 or 28 December) Anyway we booked it for 9 January at 8.30 am, and it will not cost very much with N's Senior Avis card.
We then went on to Clichy and were very impressed with Lapeyre; this was only a small store but we came away with three free catalogues (kitchens, bathrooms and exteriors) and saw some of the best and cheapest plain white basic bathroom suites I have seen anywhere. The Normandy branch is at Bernay, and we have already downloaded lots of helpful information on planning a bathroom, floor layouts and so on.
So there we were in the Boulevard de Clichy in the middle of a sunny afternoon, and decided to walk on to Montmartre. This was an outing we had been trying to plan for some time, but it always seemed to be raining. N has to have a pencil portrait drawn for a college collection, and the difficult part is the finding of a suitable artist, so he wanted to go and have a look at those in the Place du Tertre. We walked on for some time, tiringly slightly uphill, and approached a large metal bridge; I knew it couldn't be over the river and thought it must be over a railway line, but it turned out that it crossed right over the Montmartre cemetery, one of the most famous in Paris and one I had never visited.
We walked up and down the allées with their piles of yellowing leaves and I wished I'd brought my camera. The metal bridge must have been built over the cemetery rather than having to go through it, but in some places the girders were just inches from the tops of the higher monuments, and traffic was thundering overhead – not much chance of resting in eternal peace there. Apart from little sepulchres in various stages of dilapidation and more traditional graves - including those of Sacha Guitry, the Goncourt brothers and Miss Bluebell - there were also many cats, as N said, very sleek well-fed cats, more cats than I had seen for a long time. Some were posing very elegantly on tombstones, including a large tabby with a torn ear just by the entrance surveying all who came in or out; N thought he must be in charge. Later we saw a whole group of them crowding round an old lady who appeared to be attending to flowers on a grave; on closer inspection she was in fact opening tins of cat food.
After returning to the bridge and still more climbing we eventually arrived at the Place du Tertre. I had realised by then that it was 30 years or more since I was last there (but remembered that there was a restaurant called Maison Catherine!) It was a lot more touristy than anywhere we'd been of late and we heard a lot of English and other languages spoken, but not very successful from the point of view of finding an artist – some were drawing from models and there were other drawings done from photos but none at all in pencil. We had some hot chocolate in front of a well heated café, and then started our descent down several flights of stone steps with iron handrails, as N kept saying, much easier and quicker than going up. In between the bottom of the steps (next to the funicular railway) and the metro station we went very speedily down a fascinating street filled with material shops, several cut-price clothing stores and a branch of Tati, the most famous cut-price store of all, which I only ever seem to see from the windows of the metro or a bus.
Thursday was the day for the dentist at Nogent and IKEA again; I was dropped off at IKEA before the appointment as last week, but this time with a view to making larger purchases. I bought – as planned – a small white kitchen table for about 19 euros and a computer desk with pullout tray for keyboard (that will be fun to assemble!) and a little extra unit for the printer. (About 14 euros each) Also after much looking at different sizes, I bought a white duvet cover with two pillowcases, for the wide Italian bed, hoping that the quilt we eventually get will be the same size, not to mention the mattress. The first two of these came in four fairly heavy boxes, so N met me inside and we did more shopping at the food shop; jams made from strange Swedish fruits, more Gravadlax sauce and a "Christmas Infusion" – rather like drinking mulled wine at tea-time. The computer to go on this desk is my Christmas present from N, and has been ordered from FNAC and may come as soon as Monday!
The question of the furniture and the bedding is far from clear; does this go in the car or the van? And if in the van where does it go meanwhile, when we may not have access to the garage from 19 December onwards? Do we need to take anything to sleep on at La Neuve-Lyre on the night of the 20th, or will there be no bed or sofa, so we will have to go to a hotel in any case? And if Abels cannot deliver my Cambridge furniture before January there won't be much point in being there at all, once we have had a good look round and measured what needs measuring. N intends to book a place in the municipal car park for a couple of months to tide us over the "no garage" period; it's not far to walk from here, but would not be easy to load and unload. He has now phoned and altered the van booking from Avis to two days instead of one, much better as we can take longer to load it (we keep thinking of other things which must be included) and he will not have to rush to get it back the same day, but can have a good night's sleep in between.
At the chorale on Thursday evening it seemed that all had gone very well at the Téléthon, and I was sorry not to have been there. All new singing material from now on, says the chef, but I don't know what or when the next event is. We learned a new gospel hymn with the piano and a few words on the blackboard, as one might at primary school, and a French song from printed words and music and had another look at I Like to be in America, for which I was asked to read some of the words out loud, although no mention was made of my translation. A couple of weeks ago I was finally given a green fiche to fill in, with necessary information for the statistics of the commune, such as my date of birth and (former) profession, but no request for any money, I'm pleased to say. Anyway, next week, as it's the last before Christmas, instead of singing for two hours we will sing for one and a half, and spend half an hour "à prendre un pot"; eating and drinking various things we have brought with us. I can't see this happening with my former choir in Cambridge!
On Friday afternoon I went back to have another look at the intriguing material shops near Anvers, down the hill from Montmartre. So many of them: curtain material, dress material and theatrical fabrics; lace, net, taffeta, velvet, at a variety of prices, some as low as 1 euro a metre, and lots for 5 or 6, even toile de jouy for as little as 8. Lots of voile and other sheer white or cream fabrics too, for possible curtains. I can't wait to go and measure all the windows at La Neuve-Lyre. I also found lots of shops selling famous label clothes at reduced prices, and wondered if I'd found at last some of the famous adresses one hears about. Also finally made a purchase in Tati, with their strangely old-fashioned sales methods: on going to the caisse one is given a piece of paper with price hand-written to take to the shop across the street to pay. (Wonder how much money they lose like this?) I bought a little green Christmas wreath for 0.60 euro; afterwards I wished I'd got two.
Monday 12 December 2005
Still no response from either Mme V or Abels. Yesterday we went to the opera at Châtelet, to see Boris Gudenov, the Mariinsky Theatre again, this time conducted by Valery Gergiev. We had excellent seats, at the front edge of the Corbeille, (lower circle) looking right down into the orchestra pit and onto the stage. As N had promised, the music was wonderful; excellent orchestra, a very large chorus and many deep Russian basses. Some of the costumes were spectacular too, although surprisingly not Boris himself, and there was amazing scenery and effects, lighting and artificial snow, the latter looking very artificial from where we sitting. We also had an excellent view back and up at the whole of the rest of the theatre, very red and gold, and not an empty seat. The performance started at 4 and went straight through without an interval, so we were home by 7.
I have now finished reading Il Disprezzo by Alberto Moravia, only to discover that the film Le Mépris is no longer showing in Paris. I have decided that life is often full of these Alice in Wonderland moments….. I should now get back to reading War and Peace, but am currently going through about half a dozen house magazines in English brought by Madeleine.
In fact I should have taken War and Peace to the post office with me yesterday when I went to post the family Christmas parcels; I waited 50 minutes in the queue, and they cost a total of 25 euros to post.
House-wise things are now going backwards instead of forwards; after the flurry of activity on Tuesday afternoon we have had no reply at all from Mme V to our message asking whether or not she would be leaving any furniture at all that we could sleep on prior to mine arriving from Cambridge. I also sent a message to Abels asking if there was a definite time we might expect their delivery on the 22nd, only to be told that is was now unlikely that they could confirm delivery before Christmas as one client whose delivery was to be made with ours was no longer buying in France, and the other one they were currently unable to contact. Somewhat deflated by all this, we said we were disappointed and asked what would be the price if it were to be a single load delivery, instead of part load. Since then we have heard nothing from either Mme V or Abels; I can only hope they are both trying to come up with a satisfactory answer for us. N thinks perhaps Mme V has already packed up her computer ready to move, but this seems unlikely to me.
Wednesday was one of those days which turned out to be far more interesting than originally expected. The plan for the afternoon was to return to Avis Rentals, taking the metro – only one stop, and then to go a few stops further on to Clichy to visit a branch of a store called Lapeyre (kitchens, bathrooms, and so on) as there is a larger store near La Neuve-Lyre and it seemed a good idea to do some preliminary research. The only problem with renting the van at Avis was that there would be none of the size we wanted available until 9 January (we were thinking of 27 or 28 December) Anyway we booked it for 9 January at 8.30 am, and it will not cost very much with N's Senior Avis card.
We then went on to Clichy and were very impressed with Lapeyre; this was only a small store but we came away with three free catalogues (kitchens, bathrooms and exteriors) and saw some of the best and cheapest plain white basic bathroom suites I have seen anywhere. The Normandy branch is at Bernay, and we have already downloaded lots of helpful information on planning a bathroom, floor layouts and so on.
So there we were in the Boulevard de Clichy in the middle of a sunny afternoon, and decided to walk on to Montmartre. This was an outing we had been trying to plan for some time, but it always seemed to be raining. N has to have a pencil portrait drawn for a college collection, and the difficult part is the finding of a suitable artist, so he wanted to go and have a look at those in the Place du Tertre. We walked on for some time, tiringly slightly uphill, and approached a large metal bridge; I knew it couldn't be over the river and thought it must be over a railway line, but it turned out that it crossed right over the Montmartre cemetery, one of the most famous in Paris and one I had never visited.
We walked up and down the allées with their piles of yellowing leaves and I wished I'd brought my camera. The metal bridge must have been built over the cemetery rather than having to go through it, but in some places the girders were just inches from the tops of the higher monuments, and traffic was thundering overhead – not much chance of resting in eternal peace there. Apart from little sepulchres in various stages of dilapidation and more traditional graves - including those of Sacha Guitry, the Goncourt brothers and Miss Bluebell - there were also many cats, as N said, very sleek well-fed cats, more cats than I had seen for a long time. Some were posing very elegantly on tombstones, including a large tabby with a torn ear just by the entrance surveying all who came in or out; N thought he must be in charge. Later we saw a whole group of them crowding round an old lady who appeared to be attending to flowers on a grave; on closer inspection she was in fact opening tins of cat food.
After returning to the bridge and still more climbing we eventually arrived at the Place du Tertre. I had realised by then that it was 30 years or more since I was last there (but remembered that there was a restaurant called Maison Catherine!) It was a lot more touristy than anywhere we'd been of late and we heard a lot of English and other languages spoken, but not very successful from the point of view of finding an artist – some were drawing from models and there were other drawings done from photos but none at all in pencil. We had some hot chocolate in front of a well heated café, and then started our descent down several flights of stone steps with iron handrails, as N kept saying, much easier and quicker than going up. In between the bottom of the steps (next to the funicular railway) and the metro station we went very speedily down a fascinating street filled with material shops, several cut-price clothing stores and a branch of Tati, the most famous cut-price store of all, which I only ever seem to see from the windows of the metro or a bus.
Thursday was the day for the dentist at Nogent and IKEA again; I was dropped off at IKEA before the appointment as last week, but this time with a view to making larger purchases. I bought – as planned – a small white kitchen table for about 19 euros and a computer desk with pullout tray for keyboard (that will be fun to assemble!) and a little extra unit for the printer. (About 14 euros each) Also after much looking at different sizes, I bought a white duvet cover with two pillowcases, for the wide Italian bed, hoping that the quilt we eventually get will be the same size, not to mention the mattress. The first two of these came in four fairly heavy boxes, so N met me inside and we did more shopping at the food shop; jams made from strange Swedish fruits, more Gravadlax sauce and a "Christmas Infusion" – rather like drinking mulled wine at tea-time. The computer to go on this desk is my Christmas present from N, and has been ordered from FNAC and may come as soon as Monday!
The question of the furniture and the bedding is far from clear; does this go in the car or the van? And if in the van where does it go meanwhile, when we may not have access to the garage from 19 December onwards? Do we need to take anything to sleep on at La Neuve-Lyre on the night of the 20th, or will there be no bed or sofa, so we will have to go to a hotel in any case? And if Abels cannot deliver my Cambridge furniture before January there won't be much point in being there at all, once we have had a good look round and measured what needs measuring. N intends to book a place in the municipal car park for a couple of months to tide us over the "no garage" period; it's not far to walk from here, but would not be easy to load and unload. He has now phoned and altered the van booking from Avis to two days instead of one, much better as we can take longer to load it (we keep thinking of other things which must be included) and he will not have to rush to get it back the same day, but can have a good night's sleep in between.
At the chorale on Thursday evening it seemed that all had gone very well at the Téléthon, and I was sorry not to have been there. All new singing material from now on, says the chef, but I don't know what or when the next event is. We learned a new gospel hymn with the piano and a few words on the blackboard, as one might at primary school, and a French song from printed words and music and had another look at I Like to be in America, for which I was asked to read some of the words out loud, although no mention was made of my translation. A couple of weeks ago I was finally given a green fiche to fill in, with necessary information for the statistics of the commune, such as my date of birth and (former) profession, but no request for any money, I'm pleased to say. Anyway, next week, as it's the last before Christmas, instead of singing for two hours we will sing for one and a half, and spend half an hour "à prendre un pot"; eating and drinking various things we have brought with us. I can't see this happening with my former choir in Cambridge!
On Friday afternoon I went back to have another look at the intriguing material shops near Anvers, down the hill from Montmartre. So many of them: curtain material, dress material and theatrical fabrics; lace, net, taffeta, velvet, at a variety of prices, some as low as 1 euro a metre, and lots for 5 or 6, even toile de jouy for as little as 8. Lots of voile and other sheer white or cream fabrics too, for possible curtains. I can't wait to go and measure all the windows at La Neuve-Lyre. I also found lots of shops selling famous label clothes at reduced prices, and wondered if I'd found at last some of the famous adresses one hears about. Also finally made a purchase in Tati, with their strangely old-fashioned sales methods: on going to the caisse one is given a piece of paper with price hand-written to take to the shop across the street to pay. (Wonder how much money they lose like this?) I bought a little green Christmas wreath for 0.60 euro; afterwards I wished I'd got two.
Monday 12 December 2005
Still no response from either Mme V or Abels. Yesterday we went to the opera at Châtelet, to see Boris Gudenov, the Mariinsky Theatre again, this time conducted by Valery Gergiev. We had excellent seats, at the front edge of the Corbeille, (lower circle) looking right down into the orchestra pit and onto the stage. As N had promised, the music was wonderful; excellent orchestra, a very large chorus and many deep Russian basses. Some of the costumes were spectacular too, although surprisingly not Boris himself, and there was amazing scenery and effects, lighting and artificial snow, the latter looking very artificial from where we sitting. We also had an excellent view back and up at the whole of the rest of the theatre, very red and gold, and not an empty seat. The performance started at 4 and went straight through without an interval, so we were home by 7.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Friday 2 December 2005
The first snow! Last Saturday 26 November, the day I went to meet M & C from their Eurostar train at the Gare du Nord, several centimetres thick, and necessitating the getting out of my snow boots, bought here in Saint-Denis two winters ago. The train was only a few minutes late, and it was lovely to see them both again. We left their luggage at the Consigne, and as they said they had had plenty of lunch on the train, we decided to go straight to the Grands Magasins at Boulevard Haussmann. I hadn't done any research on this, as I though we would have lunch first, but we managed to find a bus to take us there (Caroline was not keen on going on the metro) and spent a good afternoon shopping, if a little tiring and crowded. This included a luxurious tea in Maxim's restaurant in Galeries Lafayette where M & C had the richest hot chocolate drink of their lives, and where the decorations too were spectacular - a vast Christmas tree going right up into the dome. We also enjoyed the shop windows there and at Au Printemps, decorated with various animations especially for children, with little platforms to help them to see. M & I also visited C&A and Lafayette Maison, while C was in the toy department at Galeries Lafayette. Finally we went into the food hall and chose pâtisseries and bread for dinner, by which time everywhere was very crowded indeed, as everybody seemed to have decided to head for home at the same time.
Finding the bus back was not easy, as we were in the middle of a one-way system; but we managed it in the end and enjoyed the sit down and the views from the windows. We retrieved the luggage and met N who had come to fetch us in the car at 6.30 as agreed.
What should have been a quick journey took in fact over an hour, with many apologies from N; some sort of delay outside the station and then longer delays in Saint-Denis as a rugby match was about to start at the Stade de France. M & C settled in and found their way about the apartment, and we had apéritifs in the library and then dinner, an excellent Boeuf Bourguignonne, made earlier by N (plus the pâtisserie.) C slept in the little room by the stairs up to the attic, and M on the pull-out bed in the music room. N explained to them that they had a connecting door!
Sunday was spent in Saint-Denis; all the snow had disappeared but it was still cold. After breakfast M, C and I went to the market, where we only bought some gorgonzola, and then on to various cheap little shops where C bought many little things and M got a wonderful kitchen clock with built in timer. We returned home for a soup and cheese lunch (also expertly made by N) and in the afternoon went out again to the Basilique de Saint-Denis, where we visited the tombs of French kings and queens, and bought more bread on the way home, by which time it was raining fast.
We had tea and biscuits from IKEA and watched the video C had brought of the memorial service for the victims and survivors the London Bombings. Then I made roast chicken, stuffing, gravy and vegetables for dinner, and we watched television; M & C found a French version of The Weakest Link and a film which was easy to follow. It was decided that we should set out on Monday morning as early as we could.
We were ready to leave by 9.30 am with all luggage packed so they both said goodbye to N and the three of us set off on foot for Saint-Denis station. We briefly visited a little Franprix supermarket opposite; they had wanted to go to the larger Carrefour the day before but it was shut. We then caught a suburban train to the Gare du Nord and once again put the luggage (more of it by this time!) in the Consigne.
I had planned the day carefully and am pleased to say it all went well and a very good time was had by all! We spent the day at the department store Le Bon Marché and the food store La Grande Epicerie because they seemed to be the only stores open on Mondays. We walked from the Gare du Nord to the Gare de L'Est (down the very aptly named Rue des Deux Gares, and past a bar called Au Train de la Vie) and caught a bus which took us direct to Le Bon Marché. I hadn't realised what a scenic route this was, so it was a bonus when the bus took us past the Porte Saint Martin and the Porte Saint Denis, along by the Comédie Française and Palais Royal, right through the middle of the Louvre past the glass pyramid, across the Pont du Carousel with views of the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Musée d'Orsay and the Grand Palais, and then past Saint Germain des Prés and Les Deux Magots.
Once again we started by looking at the beautifully animated shop windows, and then on coming out of the Ladies on the top floor found ourselves in the best and largest haberdashery and needlework department we had ever seen! I had only been to the store a couple of times in the last few years, but then had a dim memory of being recommended all this haberdashery when I was living – and doing a lot of sewing – here in 1969, when it was still a rather old-fashioned shop. There were buttons, ribbons, wools, fasteners, patchwork pieces, beads, bindings, zips, feathers, appliqué, felt, fur, knitting kits, patterns, pins and bags, and we spent a long time there and all bought a few items.
We explored other departments: lingerie, textiles, fashion, stationery and Christmas decorations, where C and I were so delighted to see sets of Angel Chimes that M bought us one each as an extra Christmas present. We investigated several restaurants within the store and ended up having a long and enjoyable lunch in a very futuristic place where I had once eaten with N, including a chocolate mousse between the three of us; probably just about enough, as they were still recovering from Friday's chocolate overdose. (Although this didn't stop M from buying a bottle to take home!)
After lunch, pausing only for a little fresh air, and for M to get more money from a cash point, we approached La Grande Epicerie, by which they were both suitably impressed. It is a lovely food store, laid out by types of food but also by nationality; Italian food, Swiss food, and so on. C bought more here than either of us; wine, coffee, pâté, chocolates; M bought chocolate to take back to her office and I got vegetable crisps and German Lebkuchen to take home to N.
We had agreed during the day to get Christmas presents from me to both of them, and from them to me, and had been on the lookout as we went round, with an agreed limit of 25 euros. At the end of the afternoon we went back and bought them; M got a little silver necklace, C a canvas bag, and I got a string of pearls and a red Lancôme lipstick. M then decided to buy herself some earrings, making a total of three "paquets cadeaux" from the jewellery department. By this time we had conveniently run out of energy, money, time and enthusiasm and it was just about the right time to get our bus back to the Gare de L'Est; easier than on Friday as the bus stop for the other direction was just opposite. We watched all the sights again in reverse order as it was getting dark, found our way back to the Gare du Nord with enough time to get the luggage from the Consigne, (and re-pack with all the day's purchases) and for them to buy a snack for the train before checking in at about 5.45. All agreed it had been an excellent day and a lovely weekend.
When I got home I found N sitting with a laid tray of smoked salmon and white wine in front of the TV; a beautiful sight, but it turned out that the reason was because he was still waiting for the plumber to arrive and thought the kitchen might be inaccessible – a visit had been promised that day in response to a fierce letter he had written about the continuing leak. Two plumbers eventually turned up, and said that the leak was nothing to worry about, just "condensation". All shook hands, and that seemed to be the end of it. N, however, says he is not convinced.
Monday 5 December 2005
Since the visitors left much catching up has been done, washing, cleaning, dismantling of bedding, ironing and correspondence – there have been responses to my many letters regarding changing from British to French tax systems and healthcare systems.
I have been to two more chorale rehearsals; two weeks ago we were handed words and music from West Side Story, including I Like to be in America, which our chef began to try and explain, until he got stuck and I helped him out, after which he gave up! I said I would prepare a translation for the next week; which fortunately took less time than I thought, and which I much enjoyed. N helped with a few sticky bits. (So, if ever you need a copy of I Like to be in America in French, you know where to ask…) Last Thursday the rehearsal was in a different place, a very large (cold) hall where the Télethon concert was due to take place on Saturday. This was interesting as there was no piano, testing both our learning and our chef's teaching; he said we should do it more often! I was sorry to miss the Télethon (a kind of French Children in Need, I think) all the more so as the dress code this time included red tops, and I had just bought an inexpensive red sparkly top for Christmas in my shopping with M &C.
Thursday has also become our regular day for driving to Nogent-sur-Marne for N's dentist appointments (which seem to consist of having an artificial tooth fitted one week only to have it hammered out the next) Last Thursday he dropped me off at IKEA before getting to Nogent, and I spent a couple of hours browsing, or "researching", as I like to think of it, mainly for curtains this time. They are mostly very long (3 metres) and very inexpensive, which is a Good Thing. I also bought some Christmas cards and a salad spinner; the latter much needed by this household.
I have had my hair cut again; same salon, different stylist. This time I took a photo of me from about six months ago with a very good cut. I have now been cut very short, but very well! Still the same method with the clippers and the comb. This should last till well after Christmas, perhaps at La Neuve-Lyre? I have noticed that hairdressers and beauticians here do not seem to chat in the same way as in Britain; various topics of small talk I had prepared were not needed.
On Saturday, while everyone else was at the Télethon we went to the ballet, to see Casse Noisette (Nutcracker) at the Théâtre du Châtelet. It was a wonderful production which I liked better than the classical one we had seen a few years ago, although both were produced by the original Russian Mariinski company. The scenery and costumes were very large and colourful and almost pantomime-like, larger than life. And of course the music and dancing were wonderful. I love the theatre too, all red and gold and very traditional, with posters from the early 1900's. So I am very pleased that we are going again next weekend! The only downside was the weather: it was raining hard, and I was very careful of my black satin shoes, but they don't seem to have come to any harm.
N's new project is the researching and compilation of a history of the former Ursuline Convent and its grounds, where our apartment is. There are bags of documents and papers in the library. My latest project – now completed - has been the writing of Christmas letters and cards; they only remain to be posted, and I am summoning up the courage to go and stand in the Saint-Denis post office queue to get all the stamps. I think I shall wrap and post family presents at the same time. All have been bought and it all took much less time than usual; I would like to give details but it doesn't seem wise at this stage!
I have also been to another "mardi musical" at the Eglise Saint-Roch, I arrived a little late and it was a popular programme so I didn't get a seat, and sat the other side of the altar where I had a different view of the church. Must get there earlier tomorrow.
Last Friday we went down into the cellar (N's part of it) to check on some furniture that we intend taking to La Neuve-Lyre. It consists mainly of a "rustic" bedroom suite - large bed, two bedside tables and wardrobe – plus an older wardrobe, all of which came from N's first Italian house Il Prato. The bedroom suite is destined for our bedroom and the other wardrobe for the sewing room. Fortunately they all seemed to be in good condition (except that a mattress will need to be bought once we are there) so today we tried to progress further with our plans by looking into the possibility of hiring a van for N to drive them there sometime after Christmas. However, the Avis office was closed for lunch, so we must resume another day. We then went on to Auchan (larger supermarket some distance away) to buy some wine and a new kettle to tide us over the first few days at la Neuve-Lyre until mine arrives with my furniture! N has had the marvellous idea of a bedroom kettle there for early morning tea and coffee, to save going the long way downstairs to the kitchen.
We are still waiting for confirmation of the date of the signature - expected some time this week - as there are so many things which cannot be decided until the date is fixed. Matters have been further complicated by the planned closure of the lock-up garage where N keeps the car over the road, for the whole of January and possibly part of December. Although in theory the car can be happily housed in the garage at La Neuve-Lyre, it makes coming back to fetch things difficult.
Tuesday 6 December 2005
Have just returned from Paris, where I went to the regular concert at L'Eglise Saint-Roch. The journey was a little slow as there was a "movement social"- a euphemism for strike - on the RER, so I went most of the way by metro. (N keeps threatening to write a Transport Symphony with a first movement called Mouvement Social) Anyway, a good programme with tenor and soprano, except that the tenor made a not very good attempt at Comfort Ye My People from Messiah, which he pronounced Comfort Yay. Afterwards I discovered that a nearby Monoprix was the one I knew from l'Avenue de l'Opéra, so had a sandwich and bought a sparkly pair of tights to further my "opera" wardrobe. I found a useful post office where I got stamps for all my Christmas cards to send back to Britain. I sat and stuck them all on, then posted them in the box outside.
Since coming back home this afternoon, things have been happening fast – two phone calls from M Urset confirming the date for the final signature for the house as 20 December in Evreux, at the office of Mme V's notaire as planned, at 11 am. He asked me to confirm this to my notaire, so I have just nipped down the road with a letter. Very impressively, the secretary remembered the name of the dossier immediately! We now have to write another e-mail to Mme V re furniture, check the date and size of rental van with Avis, (not to mention the size of the furniture to go in it) and see if we have any further news re timing from Abels. And a long term resident here at Les Ursulines is coming at 6 pm to help N with his history project.
The first snow! Last Saturday 26 November, the day I went to meet M & C from their Eurostar train at the Gare du Nord, several centimetres thick, and necessitating the getting out of my snow boots, bought here in Saint-Denis two winters ago. The train was only a few minutes late, and it was lovely to see them both again. We left their luggage at the Consigne, and as they said they had had plenty of lunch on the train, we decided to go straight to the Grands Magasins at Boulevard Haussmann. I hadn't done any research on this, as I though we would have lunch first, but we managed to find a bus to take us there (Caroline was not keen on going on the metro) and spent a good afternoon shopping, if a little tiring and crowded. This included a luxurious tea in Maxim's restaurant in Galeries Lafayette where M & C had the richest hot chocolate drink of their lives, and where the decorations too were spectacular - a vast Christmas tree going right up into the dome. We also enjoyed the shop windows there and at Au Printemps, decorated with various animations especially for children, with little platforms to help them to see. M & I also visited C&A and Lafayette Maison, while C was in the toy department at Galeries Lafayette. Finally we went into the food hall and chose pâtisseries and bread for dinner, by which time everywhere was very crowded indeed, as everybody seemed to have decided to head for home at the same time.
Finding the bus back was not easy, as we were in the middle of a one-way system; but we managed it in the end and enjoyed the sit down and the views from the windows. We retrieved the luggage and met N who had come to fetch us in the car at 6.30 as agreed.
What should have been a quick journey took in fact over an hour, with many apologies from N; some sort of delay outside the station and then longer delays in Saint-Denis as a rugby match was about to start at the Stade de France. M & C settled in and found their way about the apartment, and we had apéritifs in the library and then dinner, an excellent Boeuf Bourguignonne, made earlier by N (plus the pâtisserie.) C slept in the little room by the stairs up to the attic, and M on the pull-out bed in the music room. N explained to them that they had a connecting door!
Sunday was spent in Saint-Denis; all the snow had disappeared but it was still cold. After breakfast M, C and I went to the market, where we only bought some gorgonzola, and then on to various cheap little shops where C bought many little things and M got a wonderful kitchen clock with built in timer. We returned home for a soup and cheese lunch (also expertly made by N) and in the afternoon went out again to the Basilique de Saint-Denis, where we visited the tombs of French kings and queens, and bought more bread on the way home, by which time it was raining fast.
We had tea and biscuits from IKEA and watched the video C had brought of the memorial service for the victims and survivors the London Bombings. Then I made roast chicken, stuffing, gravy and vegetables for dinner, and we watched television; M & C found a French version of The Weakest Link and a film which was easy to follow. It was decided that we should set out on Monday morning as early as we could.
We were ready to leave by 9.30 am with all luggage packed so they both said goodbye to N and the three of us set off on foot for Saint-Denis station. We briefly visited a little Franprix supermarket opposite; they had wanted to go to the larger Carrefour the day before but it was shut. We then caught a suburban train to the Gare du Nord and once again put the luggage (more of it by this time!) in the Consigne.
I had planned the day carefully and am pleased to say it all went well and a very good time was had by all! We spent the day at the department store Le Bon Marché and the food store La Grande Epicerie because they seemed to be the only stores open on Mondays. We walked from the Gare du Nord to the Gare de L'Est (down the very aptly named Rue des Deux Gares, and past a bar called Au Train de la Vie) and caught a bus which took us direct to Le Bon Marché. I hadn't realised what a scenic route this was, so it was a bonus when the bus took us past the Porte Saint Martin and the Porte Saint Denis, along by the Comédie Française and Palais Royal, right through the middle of the Louvre past the glass pyramid, across the Pont du Carousel with views of the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Musée d'Orsay and the Grand Palais, and then past Saint Germain des Prés and Les Deux Magots.
Once again we started by looking at the beautifully animated shop windows, and then on coming out of the Ladies on the top floor found ourselves in the best and largest haberdashery and needlework department we had ever seen! I had only been to the store a couple of times in the last few years, but then had a dim memory of being recommended all this haberdashery when I was living – and doing a lot of sewing – here in 1969, when it was still a rather old-fashioned shop. There were buttons, ribbons, wools, fasteners, patchwork pieces, beads, bindings, zips, feathers, appliqué, felt, fur, knitting kits, patterns, pins and bags, and we spent a long time there and all bought a few items.
We explored other departments: lingerie, textiles, fashion, stationery and Christmas decorations, where C and I were so delighted to see sets of Angel Chimes that M bought us one each as an extra Christmas present. We investigated several restaurants within the store and ended up having a long and enjoyable lunch in a very futuristic place where I had once eaten with N, including a chocolate mousse between the three of us; probably just about enough, as they were still recovering from Friday's chocolate overdose. (Although this didn't stop M from buying a bottle to take home!)
After lunch, pausing only for a little fresh air, and for M to get more money from a cash point, we approached La Grande Epicerie, by which they were both suitably impressed. It is a lovely food store, laid out by types of food but also by nationality; Italian food, Swiss food, and so on. C bought more here than either of us; wine, coffee, pâté, chocolates; M bought chocolate to take back to her office and I got vegetable crisps and German Lebkuchen to take home to N.
We had agreed during the day to get Christmas presents from me to both of them, and from them to me, and had been on the lookout as we went round, with an agreed limit of 25 euros. At the end of the afternoon we went back and bought them; M got a little silver necklace, C a canvas bag, and I got a string of pearls and a red Lancôme lipstick. M then decided to buy herself some earrings, making a total of three "paquets cadeaux" from the jewellery department. By this time we had conveniently run out of energy, money, time and enthusiasm and it was just about the right time to get our bus back to the Gare de L'Est; easier than on Friday as the bus stop for the other direction was just opposite. We watched all the sights again in reverse order as it was getting dark, found our way back to the Gare du Nord with enough time to get the luggage from the Consigne, (and re-pack with all the day's purchases) and for them to buy a snack for the train before checking in at about 5.45. All agreed it had been an excellent day and a lovely weekend.
When I got home I found N sitting with a laid tray of smoked salmon and white wine in front of the TV; a beautiful sight, but it turned out that the reason was because he was still waiting for the plumber to arrive and thought the kitchen might be inaccessible – a visit had been promised that day in response to a fierce letter he had written about the continuing leak. Two plumbers eventually turned up, and said that the leak was nothing to worry about, just "condensation". All shook hands, and that seemed to be the end of it. N, however, says he is not convinced.
Monday 5 December 2005
Since the visitors left much catching up has been done, washing, cleaning, dismantling of bedding, ironing and correspondence – there have been responses to my many letters regarding changing from British to French tax systems and healthcare systems.
I have been to two more chorale rehearsals; two weeks ago we were handed words and music from West Side Story, including I Like to be in America, which our chef began to try and explain, until he got stuck and I helped him out, after which he gave up! I said I would prepare a translation for the next week; which fortunately took less time than I thought, and which I much enjoyed. N helped with a few sticky bits. (So, if ever you need a copy of I Like to be in America in French, you know where to ask…) Last Thursday the rehearsal was in a different place, a very large (cold) hall where the Télethon concert was due to take place on Saturday. This was interesting as there was no piano, testing both our learning and our chef's teaching; he said we should do it more often! I was sorry to miss the Télethon (a kind of French Children in Need, I think) all the more so as the dress code this time included red tops, and I had just bought an inexpensive red sparkly top for Christmas in my shopping with M &C.
Thursday has also become our regular day for driving to Nogent-sur-Marne for N's dentist appointments (which seem to consist of having an artificial tooth fitted one week only to have it hammered out the next) Last Thursday he dropped me off at IKEA before getting to Nogent, and I spent a couple of hours browsing, or "researching", as I like to think of it, mainly for curtains this time. They are mostly very long (3 metres) and very inexpensive, which is a Good Thing. I also bought some Christmas cards and a salad spinner; the latter much needed by this household.
I have had my hair cut again; same salon, different stylist. This time I took a photo of me from about six months ago with a very good cut. I have now been cut very short, but very well! Still the same method with the clippers and the comb. This should last till well after Christmas, perhaps at La Neuve-Lyre? I have noticed that hairdressers and beauticians here do not seem to chat in the same way as in Britain; various topics of small talk I had prepared were not needed.
On Saturday, while everyone else was at the Télethon we went to the ballet, to see Casse Noisette (Nutcracker) at the Théâtre du Châtelet. It was a wonderful production which I liked better than the classical one we had seen a few years ago, although both were produced by the original Russian Mariinski company. The scenery and costumes were very large and colourful and almost pantomime-like, larger than life. And of course the music and dancing were wonderful. I love the theatre too, all red and gold and very traditional, with posters from the early 1900's. So I am very pleased that we are going again next weekend! The only downside was the weather: it was raining hard, and I was very careful of my black satin shoes, but they don't seem to have come to any harm.
N's new project is the researching and compilation of a history of the former Ursuline Convent and its grounds, where our apartment is. There are bags of documents and papers in the library. My latest project – now completed - has been the writing of Christmas letters and cards; they only remain to be posted, and I am summoning up the courage to go and stand in the Saint-Denis post office queue to get all the stamps. I think I shall wrap and post family presents at the same time. All have been bought and it all took much less time than usual; I would like to give details but it doesn't seem wise at this stage!
I have also been to another "mardi musical" at the Eglise Saint-Roch, I arrived a little late and it was a popular programme so I didn't get a seat, and sat the other side of the altar where I had a different view of the church. Must get there earlier tomorrow.
Last Friday we went down into the cellar (N's part of it) to check on some furniture that we intend taking to La Neuve-Lyre. It consists mainly of a "rustic" bedroom suite - large bed, two bedside tables and wardrobe – plus an older wardrobe, all of which came from N's first Italian house Il Prato. The bedroom suite is destined for our bedroom and the other wardrobe for the sewing room. Fortunately they all seemed to be in good condition (except that a mattress will need to be bought once we are there) so today we tried to progress further with our plans by looking into the possibility of hiring a van for N to drive them there sometime after Christmas. However, the Avis office was closed for lunch, so we must resume another day. We then went on to Auchan (larger supermarket some distance away) to buy some wine and a new kettle to tide us over the first few days at la Neuve-Lyre until mine arrives with my furniture! N has had the marvellous idea of a bedroom kettle there for early morning tea and coffee, to save going the long way downstairs to the kitchen.
We are still waiting for confirmation of the date of the signature - expected some time this week - as there are so many things which cannot be decided until the date is fixed. Matters have been further complicated by the planned closure of the lock-up garage where N keeps the car over the road, for the whole of January and possibly part of December. Although in theory the car can be happily housed in the garage at La Neuve-Lyre, it makes coming back to fetch things difficult.
Tuesday 6 December 2005
Have just returned from Paris, where I went to the regular concert at L'Eglise Saint-Roch. The journey was a little slow as there was a "movement social"- a euphemism for strike - on the RER, so I went most of the way by metro. (N keeps threatening to write a Transport Symphony with a first movement called Mouvement Social) Anyway, a good programme with tenor and soprano, except that the tenor made a not very good attempt at Comfort Ye My People from Messiah, which he pronounced Comfort Yay. Afterwards I discovered that a nearby Monoprix was the one I knew from l'Avenue de l'Opéra, so had a sandwich and bought a sparkly pair of tights to further my "opera" wardrobe. I found a useful post office where I got stamps for all my Christmas cards to send back to Britain. I sat and stuck them all on, then posted them in the box outside.
Since coming back home this afternoon, things have been happening fast – two phone calls from M Urset confirming the date for the final signature for the house as 20 December in Evreux, at the office of Mme V's notaire as planned, at 11 am. He asked me to confirm this to my notaire, so I have just nipped down the road with a letter. Very impressively, the secretary remembered the name of the dossier immediately! We now have to write another e-mail to Mme V re furniture, check the date and size of rental van with Avis, (not to mention the size of the furniture to go in it) and see if we have any further news re timing from Abels. And a long term resident here at Les Ursulines is coming at 6 pm to help N with his history project.
