Monday, June 12, 2006
Monday 12 June 2006
We have had four very eventful days here in Paris in beautiful sunshine and temperatures in the low 30s, since we arrived last Thursday afternoon. I went to the chorale in the evening; it's strange to be here again in bare-shoulder weather. It was my last rehearsal until September; they are singing twice next week when we will be away in the UK, and then stopping until mid-September. We sang only modern French songs; when I say modern mostly 1930's and 1940's, a lot of which I am getting to know quite well now. On TV last week at LNL we watched a programme about the songs of 1936 – an important year in French culture as it was the year of the first paid holidays for thousands of workers, so a new era of leisure, with lots of popular songs and dance music. And I was able to recognise several of them!
N was playing string quartets on Friday, and I went out into Paris in search of "adresses" in my little book "Chic et Jolie à Petits Prix" to look for a wonderfully inexpensive shop called Eurodif. There used to be a branch in Saint-Denis which I used to go to during my visits here, but it closed a couple of years ago, so I was delighted to find that one still existed not far from the grands magasins at the Boulevard Haussmann. I spent a long time there looking round, and buying a straw hat to wear in the garden at LNL, before going on to the grands magasins themselves.
Another thing we had been following, but on the radio this time, was the Saint-Denis Music Festival; a very prestigious few weeks with lots of internationally known orchestras and conductors, some of whose concerts I heard live on France Musique. I was interested to get to Saint-Denis and find out what there was that we could go to in the few days we were here. The Verdi Requiem was being performed in the Basilique on Thursday and Friday evenings, and in the event – N having read about it in the local paper – we took folding chairs and sat outside with many other local residents where it was relayed on a large screen! This was of course more interesting and cost nothing, and we were able to look at the concert-goers going in, and children playing round about and people casually riding bicycles through on their way home. Because of the temperature we weren't at all cold, and it wasn't even properly dark by the time it finished at about 10.15.
It was a short night's sleep, as we were up and out of the house before 8 on our way to the Sorbonne for the doctoral thesis, for which N was now not only a member of the jury, but president of the jury. In France these events are open to the public (usually just the colleagues, friends and family of the candidate) but I had heard so much about it – and the candidate! - over the preceding weeks I was interested to go along and see it too.
The argument of the thesis was that differences in manuscript versions of 15th and 16th century songs in France were due not to errors in copying (the usual theory) but that they were sung and remembered differently by different singers who then wrote them down. The candidate and one of the members of the jury were Spanish, and another jury member was Australian, which gave an interesting international flavour. There were not many other audience members, presumably because his family were all in Spain. It started just after 9 and didn't stop until 12, and then only for a short break; all the members of the jury had so much to say. Finally at about 1.15 they stopped for the "deliberation" - about 10 minutes of discussion amongst the members of the jury in private, then we all went back in and stood while the doctorate was officially awarded. And then, best of all, we had lovely little canapés and champagne and - very suitably - Rioja, and I was able to talk to some of the others and congratulate the candidate not only on his doctorate but on his tie; which had some bars from the score of Puccini's "Tosca" printed on it (he said he had bought it at Boston Airport) The Australian was confused and asked me "Now are you English or French? Because you could pass for either", and I said I'd been told that before. I told him he was the second Australian man I had met in Paris in a fortnight and that confused him even more.
Eventually N and I left, after he had managed to dump the very heavy thesis in a faculty office, to avoid carrying it round all afternoon. It was a lot hotter than when we had gone in, but we set off for our next task, to look for the specialist bookshelf shop from the address and details we had found on the internet in La Neuve-Lyre last week. The shop was in the Avenue Ledru-Rollin, near Bastille, and it was the kind of afternoon where you needed to slink along the side of the pavement in the shade, and we began to think we would never get there, especially N who was still carrying his jacket and briefcase from the morning.
Finally we found it and it was not only open and beautifully air-conditioned, but we had the sole attention of a very efficient young woman, and managed to order the shelves we had found and noted on the internet in all the right measurements, and in the nearest colour to the Italian dining room suite, beside which it will stand. The only snag was the price which was very expensive (not quoted on the internet!) and certainly much more than IKEA, but after all the searching we knew that we weren't going to find anything else which would fit and that we could have delivered. It should come in about six weeks, at the end of July.
We stopped at a café for a drink before walking all the way back to the metro station and eventually home, N still commenting on the morning's events and seemingly having forgotten all about the bookshelves.
On Sunday we didn't go to the Flea Market as I had suggested, as N had an even better idea, something I had seen on a poster at Evreux station on my way to Paris two weeks ago. It was a annual medieval fair at a town called Provins, south-east of Paris; I had never before heard of the town or the fair, but the poster looked like the kind of thing we had been to in Italy, and it turned out that N had visited it some years ago.
It was further than he thought, but through beautiful countryside in a part of France I didn't know at all – Brie and Champagne – although I had visited the Château of Vaux le Vicomte to the south and Rheims to the north. There were complicated parking arrangements well outside the town with notices to follow, making me think of parking at the East of England Show at Peterborough. We saw people getting out of cars and changing into medieval dress in the car park; this was because entry was free to those in medieval costume, and in case of argument there was a notice at the ticket office (reached after a long walk up a steep hill) clarifying the fact that "medieval costume" meant at least a hat and a robe. Some of them must have been very hot indeed, it was not the day to start wearing leggings or a cloak or armour if you were not used to it. There were several amusing anachronistic outfits; my favourites were a monk pushing a buggy with a toddler sitting in it, a crusader in chain mail and designer sunglasses and a pilgrim in a large hood lighting a cigarette.
There were stalls and side-shows all over the town, a lot of music and dancing which pleased N, and many stalls selling "medieval" food and drink. It was quite late when we finally found somewhere for lunch –definitely the highlight of our day, in a tree-filled hotel garden full of shady umbrellas. It was a set menu with many small exquisite dishes, beautifully served and presented, and quite the nicest meal we've had in a long time; not remotely mediaeval except when I asked the way to the toilets and the waiter said, "It's mediaeval, it's outside!" From time to time various acts went past on their way to the starting point of the procession. This we saw from behind a lot of other people, as we were rather too late to get a good position; lots of soldiers and musicians and "bawds" on stilts and some horrible lepers with green painted sores.
Afterwards N bought a wooden bowl for his daughter from a lady with a headdress just like the Duchess in Alice in Wonderland, which she was wearing with spectacles; I wished afterwards I had taken her photograph.
After looking round the church (dated 1060) in an effort to get cool, we set off again to look for our car park, and then for home – as so often happens – by a completely different route, and having to stop for cold drinks on the way.
And so, after an excellent night's sleep, we get to today, when we have caught up with lots of odd jobs and clearing up; washing and gardening and e-mails and having my eyebrows shaped and wrapping gifts to take to family and last minute shopping for our departure to the UK on Wednesday. I have also carefully wrapped N's portrait which at last is to be delivered to College on Thursday. Tomorrow – Tuesday - we leave for LNL early in the morning, and after much watering of the garden and packing will set off for Calais at about six in the morning on Wednesday. The hot weather is forecast to last in France and Britain until next weekend!
We have had four very eventful days here in Paris in beautiful sunshine and temperatures in the low 30s, since we arrived last Thursday afternoon. I went to the chorale in the evening; it's strange to be here again in bare-shoulder weather. It was my last rehearsal until September; they are singing twice next week when we will be away in the UK, and then stopping until mid-September. We sang only modern French songs; when I say modern mostly 1930's and 1940's, a lot of which I am getting to know quite well now. On TV last week at LNL we watched a programme about the songs of 1936 – an important year in French culture as it was the year of the first paid holidays for thousands of workers, so a new era of leisure, with lots of popular songs and dance music. And I was able to recognise several of them!
N was playing string quartets on Friday, and I went out into Paris in search of "adresses" in my little book "Chic et Jolie à Petits Prix" to look for a wonderfully inexpensive shop called Eurodif. There used to be a branch in Saint-Denis which I used to go to during my visits here, but it closed a couple of years ago, so I was delighted to find that one still existed not far from the grands magasins at the Boulevard Haussmann. I spent a long time there looking round, and buying a straw hat to wear in the garden at LNL, before going on to the grands magasins themselves.
Another thing we had been following, but on the radio this time, was the Saint-Denis Music Festival; a very prestigious few weeks with lots of internationally known orchestras and conductors, some of whose concerts I heard live on France Musique. I was interested to get to Saint-Denis and find out what there was that we could go to in the few days we were here. The Verdi Requiem was being performed in the Basilique on Thursday and Friday evenings, and in the event – N having read about it in the local paper – we took folding chairs and sat outside with many other local residents where it was relayed on a large screen! This was of course more interesting and cost nothing, and we were able to look at the concert-goers going in, and children playing round about and people casually riding bicycles through on their way home. Because of the temperature we weren't at all cold, and it wasn't even properly dark by the time it finished at about 10.15.
It was a short night's sleep, as we were up and out of the house before 8 on our way to the Sorbonne for the doctoral thesis, for which N was now not only a member of the jury, but president of the jury. In France these events are open to the public (usually just the colleagues, friends and family of the candidate) but I had heard so much about it – and the candidate! - over the preceding weeks I was interested to go along and see it too.
The argument of the thesis was that differences in manuscript versions of 15th and 16th century songs in France were due not to errors in copying (the usual theory) but that they were sung and remembered differently by different singers who then wrote them down. The candidate and one of the members of the jury were Spanish, and another jury member was Australian, which gave an interesting international flavour. There were not many other audience members, presumably because his family were all in Spain. It started just after 9 and didn't stop until 12, and then only for a short break; all the members of the jury had so much to say. Finally at about 1.15 they stopped for the "deliberation" - about 10 minutes of discussion amongst the members of the jury in private, then we all went back in and stood while the doctorate was officially awarded. And then, best of all, we had lovely little canapés and champagne and - very suitably - Rioja, and I was able to talk to some of the others and congratulate the candidate not only on his doctorate but on his tie; which had some bars from the score of Puccini's "Tosca" printed on it (he said he had bought it at Boston Airport) The Australian was confused and asked me "Now are you English or French? Because you could pass for either", and I said I'd been told that before. I told him he was the second Australian man I had met in Paris in a fortnight and that confused him even more.
Eventually N and I left, after he had managed to dump the very heavy thesis in a faculty office, to avoid carrying it round all afternoon. It was a lot hotter than when we had gone in, but we set off for our next task, to look for the specialist bookshelf shop from the address and details we had found on the internet in La Neuve-Lyre last week. The shop was in the Avenue Ledru-Rollin, near Bastille, and it was the kind of afternoon where you needed to slink along the side of the pavement in the shade, and we began to think we would never get there, especially N who was still carrying his jacket and briefcase from the morning.
Finally we found it and it was not only open and beautifully air-conditioned, but we had the sole attention of a very efficient young woman, and managed to order the shelves we had found and noted on the internet in all the right measurements, and in the nearest colour to the Italian dining room suite, beside which it will stand. The only snag was the price which was very expensive (not quoted on the internet!) and certainly much more than IKEA, but after all the searching we knew that we weren't going to find anything else which would fit and that we could have delivered. It should come in about six weeks, at the end of July.
We stopped at a café for a drink before walking all the way back to the metro station and eventually home, N still commenting on the morning's events and seemingly having forgotten all about the bookshelves.
On Sunday we didn't go to the Flea Market as I had suggested, as N had an even better idea, something I had seen on a poster at Evreux station on my way to Paris two weeks ago. It was a annual medieval fair at a town called Provins, south-east of Paris; I had never before heard of the town or the fair, but the poster looked like the kind of thing we had been to in Italy, and it turned out that N had visited it some years ago.
It was further than he thought, but through beautiful countryside in a part of France I didn't know at all – Brie and Champagne – although I had visited the Château of Vaux le Vicomte to the south and Rheims to the north. There were complicated parking arrangements well outside the town with notices to follow, making me think of parking at the East of England Show at Peterborough. We saw people getting out of cars and changing into medieval dress in the car park; this was because entry was free to those in medieval costume, and in case of argument there was a notice at the ticket office (reached after a long walk up a steep hill) clarifying the fact that "medieval costume" meant at least a hat and a robe. Some of them must have been very hot indeed, it was not the day to start wearing leggings or a cloak or armour if you were not used to it. There were several amusing anachronistic outfits; my favourites were a monk pushing a buggy with a toddler sitting in it, a crusader in chain mail and designer sunglasses and a pilgrim in a large hood lighting a cigarette.
There were stalls and side-shows all over the town, a lot of music and dancing which pleased N, and many stalls selling "medieval" food and drink. It was quite late when we finally found somewhere for lunch –definitely the highlight of our day, in a tree-filled hotel garden full of shady umbrellas. It was a set menu with many small exquisite dishes, beautifully served and presented, and quite the nicest meal we've had in a long time; not remotely mediaeval except when I asked the way to the toilets and the waiter said, "It's mediaeval, it's outside!" From time to time various acts went past on their way to the starting point of the procession. This we saw from behind a lot of other people, as we were rather too late to get a good position; lots of soldiers and musicians and "bawds" on stilts and some horrible lepers with green painted sores.
Afterwards N bought a wooden bowl for his daughter from a lady with a headdress just like the Duchess in Alice in Wonderland, which she was wearing with spectacles; I wished afterwards I had taken her photograph.
After looking round the church (dated 1060) in an effort to get cool, we set off again to look for our car park, and then for home – as so often happens – by a completely different route, and having to stop for cold drinks on the way.
And so, after an excellent night's sleep, we get to today, when we have caught up with lots of odd jobs and clearing up; washing and gardening and e-mails and having my eyebrows shaped and wrapping gifts to take to family and last minute shopping for our departure to the UK on Wednesday. I have also carefully wrapped N's portrait which at last is to be delivered to College on Thursday. Tomorrow – Tuesday - we leave for LNL early in the morning, and after much watering of the garden and packing will set off for Calais at about six in the morning on Wednesday. The hot weather is forecast to last in France and Britain until next weekend!
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Thursday 1 June 2006
Our lunch party last Saturday was very enjoyable. It would have been better still with a little more sunshine, but at least we were able to show M Urset (Robert) and his wife Monique the garden briefly, if not spend a lot of time out of doors. We showed them around most of the house, too. They arrived with a wonderful bouquet of flowers - a good start! - which are now on the table in the salon.
It had taken some time to decide on a menu, and in the end we settled on Poule au Pot, for which I read through several recipes, all mentioning Henri IV and his wish for every one of his subjects to be able to enjoy this dish every Sunday. I adapted Delia Smith’s version with some ideas of my own (such as eating on a Saturday, for example), and the result was very good indeed, so much so that half-way through M Urset said: « Je vous félicite, Katherine! » and once they had gone I wrote down immediately exactly how I had done it, so as to be able to reproduce it again! They also appreciated N’s choice of wines, and my tuna pâté, the cheeses, home grown lettuce, and wonderful gariguette strawberries and Norman farm cream. They were very good company, and the time passed quickly. The most memorable of M Urset’s anecdotes were his being kissed on the cheek at the age of 5 by General de Gaulle in 1945, and his only method of transport during the general strike in May 1968 being a child’s bicycle!
We felt nice and relaxed once they had gone, as we still had lots of good things to eat and had spent so much time cleaning and tidying that there was nothing more to do for a day or two.
On Sunday the weather was temporarily a little better, and after my aerobic exercise DVD and boiled eggs for breakfast, we set off for Beaumesnil where there was a fair, similar to the one at La Ferrière-sur-Risle, but in a much nicer setting on a gravel walk opposite the château. As always, lots of junk, lots of interesting things to look at, antiques, old toys and furniture and a surprising number of old bathroom suites and ancient radios. N bought a little shelf which he thought might go in one of the outhouses when he starts doing them up; it cost 2 euros, which seemed to be the price for most things. He also got a set of glass bowls on pedestals, a large one and four small ones, (for 4 euros) and then two others, which we thought might match three similar at Saint-Denis, originally from Italy; but after much discussion we decided to keep the set at LNL in one of our many sideboards and take the other two back to Saint-Denis. My best buy was a white painted tray, quite unlike anything I’d ever seen before, deep and metal with wooden handles and a cut-out design around the sides, for which I bargained down the price from 8 euros to 5. Less practical was a large round cake tin with a nice design of strawberries on the lid, but which is proving impossible to open. Perhaps this is why it was on sale??
By the time we had seen everything - in quite pleasant sunshine - it was about 1.15 and our eye was caught by a sign offering « Moules Frites » to eat; not exactly a restaurant but a sort of temporary arrangement in the garden of the local bar. I say our eyes, which is not quite true; mussels are one of N’s favourites, but not mine, although I have to admit that by the time we were eventually served, I enjoyed them far more than I had expected, and the free Kir which was included, and the muscadet. It also got warm enough to take our coats off for the first time in a long while. When we got home we sat in the garden, also for the first time in a long while, but it eventually got too windy.
On Monday morning we went to the market, where for once N didn’t find anything he needed on the plant stall, but on the way round to the boulangerie afterwards we noticed that the door to the back of the church was open - the first time we have seen this in the five and a half months we have been here! We had a long-overdue look round, and noted that it didn’t seem to be used that often - no candles, no holy water, and cobwebs in the font - and that it had been built in 1901 and contained a few relics from an earlier church. I had already seen lists and times of Masses on the doors of local shops, and think it alternates with surrounding villages.
Tuesday was a very different kind of day; I went to Paris for the day on the train to have lunch with Bill, a former colleague from Cambridge, who was meeting an old friend from Australia. After much consulting of train and bus timetables, N drove me to Conches station to catch the 7.30 train - we had only visited Conches station before once briefly, and seen that the ticket office wasn’t open very often (it was at 7 am!) but it is nearer to drive than Evreux, but with no bus connections. It was still very cold at that time of the morning and made me think of the occasions (probably only two) when N had given me a lift to Aulla station to catch a train to Florence for the day; both Aulla and Conches stations having tall trees and tunnels round about. It was a nice train with compartments and got into St Lazare at about 9 am, gradually full of more and more commuters all sensibly dressed in coats and scarves.
I went straight from the Gare St Lazare by metro to the apartment at Saint-Denis as planned, to collect the post, check the phone messages and water the geraniums in the window boxes, stopping to have a second breakfast too. I then took the RER train to Châtelet and had a leisurely walk to the Rue de Rivoli, by then so cold that I called in at BHV to buy a pair of tights (on the ground floor) and to visit the Ladies (on the fifth floor) to put them on, much as I had done last September in Verneuil, under the same linen skirt. I felt very cultured walking past the Hôtel de Ville, as I had already seen both exhibitions on there, Willy Ronis - still going! - and Paris au Cinéma.
Bill had wanted to meet at Chez Julien, having read about it here - perhaps I should become a restaurant critic? - and in the event his friend Tony arrived first and we introduced ourselves, after I had explained all this to the waiter, whom I remembered from my birthday lunch three weeks ago, and who perhaps remembered me. We had a lovely lunch, full of excellent food and drink, very good service and wonderful conversation, Bill and I deciding that this was a far better place to meet than UCLES canteen. Afterwards we felt we needed to walk it all off, and strolled along looking at all the shops in the Ile de la Cité, and then sat down again at a Salon de Thé the other side of the river. My train back from St Lazare was due to leave at 5.30; at 4.30 there seemed plenty of time but it proved impossible to find a metro station without walking miles, so eventually I jumped into a cab after kissing them both goodbye very quickly, and after a speedy exciting drive arrived at the station at two minutes past five with plenty of time to spare, and even time to buy a couple of house magazines. The return journey was direct and thus quicker, but the train more crowded without compartments, and I arrived at Evreux on time with about 8 minutes to catch the bus as scheduled, arriving back at LNL at 7.21, where N had dinner on the table; ham, boiled potatoes, tomates provençales and home-grown stewed rhubarb and custard.
It seemed so strange that I could be in the peace and quiet of the village and the garden on Monday and Wednesday, but in the very centre of Paris on Tuesday. A little like going to London for the day from Cambridge, but there the journey from home to the station used to be much quicker. After dinner I checked the phone messages and was amused to find one from the local post mistress, saying that a letter I had sent to the UK needed 20 centimes extra postage on it, and she hoped I didn’t mind that she had taken the liberty of adding it, and I could let her have the money when I was next in the Post Office. This was as a result of my address label on the back of the envelope, which included my phone number! N was most impressed, and said you wouldn’t get that kind of thing in Saint-Denis. Unfortunately when I went with the money the next day I only spoke to her colleague, who seemed to know all about it, but it would have been nicer to thank her in person, and to think that I was building some kind of relationship!
Saturday 3 June 2006
The rest of the week continued cold, despite the weather forecasters insisting it was improving and promising warmth for the weekend. However it was sunny in the mornings and we had a couple of breakfasts in the verandah, before the cloud came over and we spent the rest of the days keeping warm and watching TV and videos, and N saying it wasn’t worth thinking about doing anything outside. I went to the hairdresser, and we discussed the cold weather - she said you didn’t get much wear out of summer clothes round here, which was rather depressing.
My electricity bill arrived - only just over 100 euros, but may just be the charge for setting up a new contract and a sort of standing charge; we shall see. And it must be remembered that a lot of the time we aren’t here.
One thing we did do was make a list of all the things - large and small - still needing doing in the house and garden, which concentrated the mind and as not much could be done outside, on Thursday afternoon we went out to buy wood for the new window frames in the verandah and for bookshelves.
I had originally hoped to get a small bookshelf for my study from IKEA at the same time as we got the larger shelves for the grande pièce, but now they can’t be delivered we reverted to the original plan of building white shelves within the frame of the boarded-up door as we had done in the corridor. (And plan to look at bookshelves in a specialist shop in Paris when there next week) We went to Bricomarché near Conches, nearer then Monsieur Bricolage at Bernay and found admirable white shelves, but nothing any use for the verandah. N fitted the shelves as soon as we got back, and very good they look too.
First thing on Friday morning we set off for Bernay, very cold and grey and remembering Tuesday morning I put on cardigan, jacket and socks. Even under cloud everything looked very lush and green, and there are now tall daisies and red poppies all along the edges of the fields, like a Monet painting, not surprising really as his house isn’t far from here. The horses and cows which looked so wet and miserable in the winter are now contentedly munching grass with foals and calves by their sides.
N chose all the wood at Monsieur Bricolage - he is replacing the rotten window sills outside the verandah and hiding the not very nice brown ones inside - while I went to an office supplies shop to choose document holders to go on my new shelves. By the time we came out of the supermarket (still getting wine to fill up the wine cellar!) the sun had come out, and while watering the plants once we had got back, got so hot I actually had to take my cardigan off.
We ended up having lunch and tea in the garden, and feeling that this was what summer was supposed to be like. I was sorry I had so many indoor tasks to do, as I wanted to stay out there, but hoovered up after the shelf building from the day before, and finally assembled - with help from N - an IKEA shelf unit to go on my desk over the computer, which had come from Ainsworth Street and, I regret to say, had been lying in a box in the study ever since. I arranged things on my new shelves and on the unit in the study, which was good before - especially with its fine curtains - but is now even better. In the evening, after some discussion, we finally switched the new heating system OFF.
Today it has been summer from the word go, the first breakfast in the garden, before which N had started building his outside window sills on the verandah, cleverly using triangular end-pieces left over from the shelves in the study. He has been able to do both coats of paint on them too, drying nicely in the sun. Over lunch we spent a lot of time watching the swallows flying in and out of the garage; there were so many of them that we think the adolescent birds must be learning to fly, and perhaps waiting for the warmth before coming out for the first time.
In the village all is warm and summery, and even the boulangère is wearing a t-shirt under her overall instead of her usual jumper. I have made time to sit in the garden and read; I have just started « Bouvard et Pécuchet « by Flaubert, relevant because they have just bought a house in Normandy (in 1839) between Caen and Falaise, and it has taken nine days by carriage to remove all the furniture from Paris! However, they did find a woman from the village there getting supper for them when they arrived, which must have been nice.
Sunday 4 June 2006
Another really warm summer day; hazy and just hot enough without being too much. Watering now takes me a lot of time each morning: the pots on the bedroom balcony, the herbs on the kitchen and dining room windowsills, pansies and petunias at the front and side, and more pansies and petunias in urns in front of the outbuildings. Some of the pansies are not looking too good, and will need replacing after we come back from the UK. The light red trailing geraniums on the balcony are just getting going, though. The original red rhododendrons (those that we found here) are almost over, but the new ones - pale pink and dark red - are just coming into flower. Also just flowering are several lots of roses that we found here; yellow with red edges by the front railings, and dark pink by the side wall. There are lots of others in bud.
N waters all the vegetables with the hose. Currently he has spring onions, garlic, radishes, carrots, several sorts of lettuce, shallots, onions, beetroot, turnips, rocket, cabbages, parsnips, cauliflower, sorrel, brussels sprouts, peas, peppers, artichokes, melons, leeks, four kinds of potatoes, rhubarb and several different beans, not to mention herbs, the gooseberry and currant bushes and the peach tree.
This afternoon we have been to visit the ruins of an old priory at a little town called Beaumont le Roger. We had driven past them some time ago while passing through, and N wanted to go back to inspect them and a 15th century church high up on the edge of the town. The ruins were very impressive; a shell of a 10th century church and the remains of a few other buildings and lots of grass, which we decided would make an excellent picnic spot. Very quiet, no guides, tickets or shop. There was another couple there having a picnic, and they asked N if would take their photo, which he did, and we had a chat. Having established we were English, she asked if we were retired and when we said yes, said I looked much too young, which was comforting.
Afterwards we looked at the shops - all shut for Sunday - and drove home for tea in the garden.
Wednesday 7 June 2006
The weather continues getting warmer and warmer, and I’m beginning to be sorry we are driving back to Paris tomorrow afternoon, I do so enjoy being in this garden.
Yesterday morning I went to L’Aigle on the bus, on my own as N wanted to go in the other direction to Monsieur Bricolage for more wood for his verandah windows project. It was good to see the route in full summer, gardens full of vegetables and pots of red geraniums in every possible position, and more poppies and daisies in the fields. The market was wonderful in the sun, I couldn’t find green asparagus but came away with three purchases from an excellent charcuterie stall, some black olives, a kilo of cut-price cherries reduced at the last moment and a little tablecloth for 2 euros from a white linen stall. The other thing I didn’t find was Ambre Solaire, this weather having taken me by surprise and it being impossible to find in LNL. I met my friend the Curtain Lady just outside the flower market with a large hanging basket of mauve petunias in each hand; she assured me she had just the place to hang them. I resisted flowers and plants myself as we are going away so soon for so long, and anyway we now have a limited supply of flowers for picking in the garden - peonies, wild daisies and a sort of blue flower somewhere between a thistle and a cornflower. I sat in the sun and had a drink at the same café as before, and watched people coming away from the market.
While waiting for the bus in the village square on the way there I watched the swallows dive in and out of nests in the windows over the bank. We have learned from our bird book that there are two kinds of swallows: ones that make nests in buildings - our garage, for example - and the kind called « windows swallows » that nest in the outdoor corners of windows. N thought it was illegal to get rid of these nests; Mme Urset said it was bad luck; perhaps it comes to the same thing.
There is a notice in the boulangerie advertising English lessons! With a phone number. Not from anyone in our village, I think -although who knows? It’s the sort of thing I fully intended to do, once I had stopped being busy in the house, which N thinks I now have. I think I shall leave it now until the « rentrée » (September when everyone is back from summer holidays, and winter activities start up again.)
N has now finished his painting and carpentry in the verandah, and it looks very good indeed, all the old brown window frames painted white or hidden under new white ones. He has even painted the outside door, and taken a piece off the bottom so that it closes properly. His pieces of wood, paint, glue and tools were stretched all across both the table in the verandah and the one outside on the terrace, so at lunch time I got out and assembled the third (and final!) garden table and put it in the shade under the tall wide pine tree. This was very pleasant but a long way from the kitchen. We had a salad made from our own rocket for the first time; just as good as that served at Chez Julien in Paris!
There has been a change of plan regarding our driving back to Paris. We are crossing to Britain on Wednesday 14th (and back on Friday 23rd) but are leaving tomorrow for Paris as the thesis examination for which N is part of the jury takes place at the Sorbonne on Saturday 10th. Originally we planned to stay there and leave from Paris, but N - who is worried about leaving the garden unwatered for 16 days - suggested we come back here next Tuesday for final watering and leave for Calais at the crack of dawn on Wednesday from here rather than Paris. I thought this was a good idea, as it means packing a bag for 10 days rather than 16, and also means we have one more trip back from Paris to LNL when we can bring the picnic hamper - whose hour has come - and more wine for the cellar. It also makes it easier not to leave too much washing, and that we might have a better idea of the route so that we can tell our guests!
N is also playing string quartets on Friday morning and going to an Ursuline residents’ meeting on Monday, which will still be fine. I had an eyebrow appointment on Tuesday, which I have rung and changed to Monday, and should be able to go to the chorale when we arrive tomorrow evening. We hope to go and investigate custom-made bookshelves at a shop called « La Maison du Bibliothèque et Dressing » and I rather hope we might get to the Flea Market and look for a little cupboard for Saint-Denis which would mean liberating an Italian gilded trolley which N has promised can come here (it’s an awful long way to carry things from the grande pièce to the kitchen and back) once he has a cupboard to house all the things currently on the trolley.
Our lunch party last Saturday was very enjoyable. It would have been better still with a little more sunshine, but at least we were able to show M Urset (Robert) and his wife Monique the garden briefly, if not spend a lot of time out of doors. We showed them around most of the house, too. They arrived with a wonderful bouquet of flowers - a good start! - which are now on the table in the salon.
It had taken some time to decide on a menu, and in the end we settled on Poule au Pot, for which I read through several recipes, all mentioning Henri IV and his wish for every one of his subjects to be able to enjoy this dish every Sunday. I adapted Delia Smith’s version with some ideas of my own (such as eating on a Saturday, for example), and the result was very good indeed, so much so that half-way through M Urset said: « Je vous félicite, Katherine! » and once they had gone I wrote down immediately exactly how I had done it, so as to be able to reproduce it again! They also appreciated N’s choice of wines, and my tuna pâté, the cheeses, home grown lettuce, and wonderful gariguette strawberries and Norman farm cream. They were very good company, and the time passed quickly. The most memorable of M Urset’s anecdotes were his being kissed on the cheek at the age of 5 by General de Gaulle in 1945, and his only method of transport during the general strike in May 1968 being a child’s bicycle!
We felt nice and relaxed once they had gone, as we still had lots of good things to eat and had spent so much time cleaning and tidying that there was nothing more to do for a day or two.
On Sunday the weather was temporarily a little better, and after my aerobic exercise DVD and boiled eggs for breakfast, we set off for Beaumesnil where there was a fair, similar to the one at La Ferrière-sur-Risle, but in a much nicer setting on a gravel walk opposite the château. As always, lots of junk, lots of interesting things to look at, antiques, old toys and furniture and a surprising number of old bathroom suites and ancient radios. N bought a little shelf which he thought might go in one of the outhouses when he starts doing them up; it cost 2 euros, which seemed to be the price for most things. He also got a set of glass bowls on pedestals, a large one and four small ones, (for 4 euros) and then two others, which we thought might match three similar at Saint-Denis, originally from Italy; but after much discussion we decided to keep the set at LNL in one of our many sideboards and take the other two back to Saint-Denis. My best buy was a white painted tray, quite unlike anything I’d ever seen before, deep and metal with wooden handles and a cut-out design around the sides, for which I bargained down the price from 8 euros to 5. Less practical was a large round cake tin with a nice design of strawberries on the lid, but which is proving impossible to open. Perhaps this is why it was on sale??
By the time we had seen everything - in quite pleasant sunshine - it was about 1.15 and our eye was caught by a sign offering « Moules Frites » to eat; not exactly a restaurant but a sort of temporary arrangement in the garden of the local bar. I say our eyes, which is not quite true; mussels are one of N’s favourites, but not mine, although I have to admit that by the time we were eventually served, I enjoyed them far more than I had expected, and the free Kir which was included, and the muscadet. It also got warm enough to take our coats off for the first time in a long while. When we got home we sat in the garden, also for the first time in a long while, but it eventually got too windy.
On Monday morning we went to the market, where for once N didn’t find anything he needed on the plant stall, but on the way round to the boulangerie afterwards we noticed that the door to the back of the church was open - the first time we have seen this in the five and a half months we have been here! We had a long-overdue look round, and noted that it didn’t seem to be used that often - no candles, no holy water, and cobwebs in the font - and that it had been built in 1901 and contained a few relics from an earlier church. I had already seen lists and times of Masses on the doors of local shops, and think it alternates with surrounding villages.
Tuesday was a very different kind of day; I went to Paris for the day on the train to have lunch with Bill, a former colleague from Cambridge, who was meeting an old friend from Australia. After much consulting of train and bus timetables, N drove me to Conches station to catch the 7.30 train - we had only visited Conches station before once briefly, and seen that the ticket office wasn’t open very often (it was at 7 am!) but it is nearer to drive than Evreux, but with no bus connections. It was still very cold at that time of the morning and made me think of the occasions (probably only two) when N had given me a lift to Aulla station to catch a train to Florence for the day; both Aulla and Conches stations having tall trees and tunnels round about. It was a nice train with compartments and got into St Lazare at about 9 am, gradually full of more and more commuters all sensibly dressed in coats and scarves.
I went straight from the Gare St Lazare by metro to the apartment at Saint-Denis as planned, to collect the post, check the phone messages and water the geraniums in the window boxes, stopping to have a second breakfast too. I then took the RER train to Châtelet and had a leisurely walk to the Rue de Rivoli, by then so cold that I called in at BHV to buy a pair of tights (on the ground floor) and to visit the Ladies (on the fifth floor) to put them on, much as I had done last September in Verneuil, under the same linen skirt. I felt very cultured walking past the Hôtel de Ville, as I had already seen both exhibitions on there, Willy Ronis - still going! - and Paris au Cinéma.
Bill had wanted to meet at Chez Julien, having read about it here - perhaps I should become a restaurant critic? - and in the event his friend Tony arrived first and we introduced ourselves, after I had explained all this to the waiter, whom I remembered from my birthday lunch three weeks ago, and who perhaps remembered me. We had a lovely lunch, full of excellent food and drink, very good service and wonderful conversation, Bill and I deciding that this was a far better place to meet than UCLES canteen. Afterwards we felt we needed to walk it all off, and strolled along looking at all the shops in the Ile de la Cité, and then sat down again at a Salon de Thé the other side of the river. My train back from St Lazare was due to leave at 5.30; at 4.30 there seemed plenty of time but it proved impossible to find a metro station without walking miles, so eventually I jumped into a cab after kissing them both goodbye very quickly, and after a speedy exciting drive arrived at the station at two minutes past five with plenty of time to spare, and even time to buy a couple of house magazines. The return journey was direct and thus quicker, but the train more crowded without compartments, and I arrived at Evreux on time with about 8 minutes to catch the bus as scheduled, arriving back at LNL at 7.21, where N had dinner on the table; ham, boiled potatoes, tomates provençales and home-grown stewed rhubarb and custard.
It seemed so strange that I could be in the peace and quiet of the village and the garden on Monday and Wednesday, but in the very centre of Paris on Tuesday. A little like going to London for the day from Cambridge, but there the journey from home to the station used to be much quicker. After dinner I checked the phone messages and was amused to find one from the local post mistress, saying that a letter I had sent to the UK needed 20 centimes extra postage on it, and she hoped I didn’t mind that she had taken the liberty of adding it, and I could let her have the money when I was next in the Post Office. This was as a result of my address label on the back of the envelope, which included my phone number! N was most impressed, and said you wouldn’t get that kind of thing in Saint-Denis. Unfortunately when I went with the money the next day I only spoke to her colleague, who seemed to know all about it, but it would have been nicer to thank her in person, and to think that I was building some kind of relationship!
Saturday 3 June 2006
The rest of the week continued cold, despite the weather forecasters insisting it was improving and promising warmth for the weekend. However it was sunny in the mornings and we had a couple of breakfasts in the verandah, before the cloud came over and we spent the rest of the days keeping warm and watching TV and videos, and N saying it wasn’t worth thinking about doing anything outside. I went to the hairdresser, and we discussed the cold weather - she said you didn’t get much wear out of summer clothes round here, which was rather depressing.
My electricity bill arrived - only just over 100 euros, but may just be the charge for setting up a new contract and a sort of standing charge; we shall see. And it must be remembered that a lot of the time we aren’t here.
One thing we did do was make a list of all the things - large and small - still needing doing in the house and garden, which concentrated the mind and as not much could be done outside, on Thursday afternoon we went out to buy wood for the new window frames in the verandah and for bookshelves.
I had originally hoped to get a small bookshelf for my study from IKEA at the same time as we got the larger shelves for the grande pièce, but now they can’t be delivered we reverted to the original plan of building white shelves within the frame of the boarded-up door as we had done in the corridor. (And plan to look at bookshelves in a specialist shop in Paris when there next week) We went to Bricomarché near Conches, nearer then Monsieur Bricolage at Bernay and found admirable white shelves, but nothing any use for the verandah. N fitted the shelves as soon as we got back, and very good they look too.
First thing on Friday morning we set off for Bernay, very cold and grey and remembering Tuesday morning I put on cardigan, jacket and socks. Even under cloud everything looked very lush and green, and there are now tall daisies and red poppies all along the edges of the fields, like a Monet painting, not surprising really as his house isn’t far from here. The horses and cows which looked so wet and miserable in the winter are now contentedly munching grass with foals and calves by their sides.
N chose all the wood at Monsieur Bricolage - he is replacing the rotten window sills outside the verandah and hiding the not very nice brown ones inside - while I went to an office supplies shop to choose document holders to go on my new shelves. By the time we came out of the supermarket (still getting wine to fill up the wine cellar!) the sun had come out, and while watering the plants once we had got back, got so hot I actually had to take my cardigan off.
We ended up having lunch and tea in the garden, and feeling that this was what summer was supposed to be like. I was sorry I had so many indoor tasks to do, as I wanted to stay out there, but hoovered up after the shelf building from the day before, and finally assembled - with help from N - an IKEA shelf unit to go on my desk over the computer, which had come from Ainsworth Street and, I regret to say, had been lying in a box in the study ever since. I arranged things on my new shelves and on the unit in the study, which was good before - especially with its fine curtains - but is now even better. In the evening, after some discussion, we finally switched the new heating system OFF.
Today it has been summer from the word go, the first breakfast in the garden, before which N had started building his outside window sills on the verandah, cleverly using triangular end-pieces left over from the shelves in the study. He has been able to do both coats of paint on them too, drying nicely in the sun. Over lunch we spent a lot of time watching the swallows flying in and out of the garage; there were so many of them that we think the adolescent birds must be learning to fly, and perhaps waiting for the warmth before coming out for the first time.
In the village all is warm and summery, and even the boulangère is wearing a t-shirt under her overall instead of her usual jumper. I have made time to sit in the garden and read; I have just started « Bouvard et Pécuchet « by Flaubert, relevant because they have just bought a house in Normandy (in 1839) between Caen and Falaise, and it has taken nine days by carriage to remove all the furniture from Paris! However, they did find a woman from the village there getting supper for them when they arrived, which must have been nice.
Sunday 4 June 2006
Another really warm summer day; hazy and just hot enough without being too much. Watering now takes me a lot of time each morning: the pots on the bedroom balcony, the herbs on the kitchen and dining room windowsills, pansies and petunias at the front and side, and more pansies and petunias in urns in front of the outbuildings. Some of the pansies are not looking too good, and will need replacing after we come back from the UK. The light red trailing geraniums on the balcony are just getting going, though. The original red rhododendrons (those that we found here) are almost over, but the new ones - pale pink and dark red - are just coming into flower. Also just flowering are several lots of roses that we found here; yellow with red edges by the front railings, and dark pink by the side wall. There are lots of others in bud.
N waters all the vegetables with the hose. Currently he has spring onions, garlic, radishes, carrots, several sorts of lettuce, shallots, onions, beetroot, turnips, rocket, cabbages, parsnips, cauliflower, sorrel, brussels sprouts, peas, peppers, artichokes, melons, leeks, four kinds of potatoes, rhubarb and several different beans, not to mention herbs, the gooseberry and currant bushes and the peach tree.
This afternoon we have been to visit the ruins of an old priory at a little town called Beaumont le Roger. We had driven past them some time ago while passing through, and N wanted to go back to inspect them and a 15th century church high up on the edge of the town. The ruins were very impressive; a shell of a 10th century church and the remains of a few other buildings and lots of grass, which we decided would make an excellent picnic spot. Very quiet, no guides, tickets or shop. There was another couple there having a picnic, and they asked N if would take their photo, which he did, and we had a chat. Having established we were English, she asked if we were retired and when we said yes, said I looked much too young, which was comforting.
Afterwards we looked at the shops - all shut for Sunday - and drove home for tea in the garden.
Wednesday 7 June 2006
The weather continues getting warmer and warmer, and I’m beginning to be sorry we are driving back to Paris tomorrow afternoon, I do so enjoy being in this garden.
Yesterday morning I went to L’Aigle on the bus, on my own as N wanted to go in the other direction to Monsieur Bricolage for more wood for his verandah windows project. It was good to see the route in full summer, gardens full of vegetables and pots of red geraniums in every possible position, and more poppies and daisies in the fields. The market was wonderful in the sun, I couldn’t find green asparagus but came away with three purchases from an excellent charcuterie stall, some black olives, a kilo of cut-price cherries reduced at the last moment and a little tablecloth for 2 euros from a white linen stall. The other thing I didn’t find was Ambre Solaire, this weather having taken me by surprise and it being impossible to find in LNL. I met my friend the Curtain Lady just outside the flower market with a large hanging basket of mauve petunias in each hand; she assured me she had just the place to hang them. I resisted flowers and plants myself as we are going away so soon for so long, and anyway we now have a limited supply of flowers for picking in the garden - peonies, wild daisies and a sort of blue flower somewhere between a thistle and a cornflower. I sat in the sun and had a drink at the same café as before, and watched people coming away from the market.
While waiting for the bus in the village square on the way there I watched the swallows dive in and out of nests in the windows over the bank. We have learned from our bird book that there are two kinds of swallows: ones that make nests in buildings - our garage, for example - and the kind called « windows swallows » that nest in the outdoor corners of windows. N thought it was illegal to get rid of these nests; Mme Urset said it was bad luck; perhaps it comes to the same thing.
There is a notice in the boulangerie advertising English lessons! With a phone number. Not from anyone in our village, I think -although who knows? It’s the sort of thing I fully intended to do, once I had stopped being busy in the house, which N thinks I now have. I think I shall leave it now until the « rentrée » (September when everyone is back from summer holidays, and winter activities start up again.)
N has now finished his painting and carpentry in the verandah, and it looks very good indeed, all the old brown window frames painted white or hidden under new white ones. He has even painted the outside door, and taken a piece off the bottom so that it closes properly. His pieces of wood, paint, glue and tools were stretched all across both the table in the verandah and the one outside on the terrace, so at lunch time I got out and assembled the third (and final!) garden table and put it in the shade under the tall wide pine tree. This was very pleasant but a long way from the kitchen. We had a salad made from our own rocket for the first time; just as good as that served at Chez Julien in Paris!
There has been a change of plan regarding our driving back to Paris. We are crossing to Britain on Wednesday 14th (and back on Friday 23rd) but are leaving tomorrow for Paris as the thesis examination for which N is part of the jury takes place at the Sorbonne on Saturday 10th. Originally we planned to stay there and leave from Paris, but N - who is worried about leaving the garden unwatered for 16 days - suggested we come back here next Tuesday for final watering and leave for Calais at the crack of dawn on Wednesday from here rather than Paris. I thought this was a good idea, as it means packing a bag for 10 days rather than 16, and also means we have one more trip back from Paris to LNL when we can bring the picnic hamper - whose hour has come - and more wine for the cellar. It also makes it easier not to leave too much washing, and that we might have a better idea of the route so that we can tell our guests!
N is also playing string quartets on Friday morning and going to an Ursuline residents’ meeting on Monday, which will still be fine. I had an eyebrow appointment on Tuesday, which I have rung and changed to Monday, and should be able to go to the chorale when we arrive tomorrow evening. We hope to go and investigate custom-made bookshelves at a shop called « La Maison du Bibliothèque et Dressing » and I rather hope we might get to the Flea Market and look for a little cupboard for Saint-Denis which would mean liberating an Italian gilded trolley which N has promised can come here (it’s an awful long way to carry things from the grande pièce to the kitchen and back) once he has a cupboard to house all the things currently on the trolley.
