Monday, February 26, 2007
Monday 19 February 2007
Still no sign of Monsieur A or the water purifying system, or estimate for the garden wall and house façade. I rang him this morning, and he said as he had three chaps missing (N thought they were having the famous February holidays; I thought perhaps they were ill) they won’t be here before next week, he says he will ring us on Thursday or Friday.
Meanwhile life continues very quietly here in the country; the weather is mostly fine and sunny - it was apparently 16 degrees in Paris yesterday - and N is doing all sorts of things in the garden and the potting shed, and I am pottering between cooking, washing and my War Letters project, and we are watching various DVDs and TV programmes in between. I am also printing out the whole of this Blog, month by month - a rather longer project! Am currently half-way through, and putting it all in a ring binder. N is anxious to see it (he says) but wants to sit by the fire and read it as a Book, not on screen. I am enjoying reading it as I print it, and am amazed at all the things we have done that I have forgotten about.
Yesterday we went to La Ferrière-sur-Risle for the monthly Sunday antiques fair, and remembering when we got there that there is an ordinary market there too. It was very fine and sunny and we bought some excellent kippers (which we have just had for lunch today) and cod, which is in the freezer, and N bought a new thyme plant for the herb bed. All the herbs - both in the garden and in the windowsill pots are looking a bit end-of-season-ish, but last year we got them at Vive le Jardin in March, so we must hang on just a bit longer. At the antiques fair I bought two vintage Martini glasses (which I shall give to Madeleine, after we’ve tried them out here first!) and a couple of antique jam jars, which I think will look very good on the breakfast table with home-made apple jelly in them. Talking of home-made preserves, N’s latest carpentry project is a series of shelves for jam and chutney in the first outhouse; the same principle as the shelves for paperback books in the corridor. There is a blocked door between the first and second outhouse, very narrow but perhaps just wide enough for a jar.
After lunch on Sundays, in front of the fire, we have been reading « Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland » to each other, a chapter at a time. We are now on to « Through the Looking Glass », and today N read the chapter about the White Knight, very suitably I thought, as he sometimes reminds me of him; all the while thinking of another plan for some new invention. (« Through the Looking Glass » itself is very suitable for our salon, the mirror over the mantelpiece with the clock and the fire is exactly right.)
N has cut the grass for the first time, very unusual for February, but it was so long and very lush and green, and looks much better. He is now « scarifying » - rolling a kind of spiky trimmer all over the lawns, to pierce the soil and gather up the moss and clumps of cut grass and generally tidy things up. It will not be worth hoovering indoors until this is all over!
Wednesday 21 February 2007
The Jam and Chutney Shelves were put up this morning, and the jars put on them after lunch - a great success. Not only can I see at a glance how many I have got of everything - previously they were in wine boxes on top of the kitchen cupboards - but they will be nicely chilled, and N was worried about the weight on the cupboard tops. There is room for lots more, I’m pleased to say. There are plans for another Great Shelf in the first outhouse; a large heavy plank which we found here and which has been standing in the garage all this time.
Yesterday morning we went on a very successful trip to Conches: to Bricomarché, a small garden centre called Gamm Vert on the same site, and the new Intermarché supermarket nearby. One of N’s current projects is the diversion of rainfall from the roof of the garage, atelier and woodshed into a second (as yet unbought) water butt, and he wanted to get the necessary various pieces of pipe and hose. We also wanted to look at lino tiles for the verandah. When Monsieur A’s men eventually come to fit the water softening apparatus, it will necessitate moving everything out of the verandah (as it is to be fitted behind the sink, in the verandah itself) and this will be an excellent opportunity to re-do the floor. Originally we had hoped to have it tiled last October, but never heard from our Artisan; at the time we weren’t worried as there were lots of other things going on, and are now rather pleased not to have to pay for it, given the water purifier. We had thought about laying some spare lino - of which we have lots! - but remembered how fiddly the shower room was. N mentioned lino tiles, of which I had no experience, but they sounded reasonably easy and cheap. We were very pleased to find just the thing at Bricomarché; about 30 cms square, fake « parquet » flooring, which I certainly wouldn’t want in a salon or dining room, but think will be ideal in the verandah, a similar colour to the table and chairs, and easy to keep clean.
As well as all this N bought Topinembours (Jerusalem artichokes) and purple seed potatoes for the vegetable garden and I looked at watering cans - the nice one I brought from Cambridge has sprung a leak, but given the price of a new one (40 euros!) N might be able to fix it with the same stuff he is using for joining together the drainpipes. The garden section of Bricomarché was even better than that at Gamm Vert; I found lupins which I knew N wanted for the new larger flower bed, and he ended up buying all sorts of perennials. I found a beautiful white azalea (at Vive le Jardin they were all pink) more miniature daffodils, a very large healthy spider plant and a white plastic hanging flower pot for it to hang in the verandah.
This meant that we both spent most of yesterday afternoon working in the garden, N on his drainpipe project and me - after I had reorganised the indoor plants - on re-potting the spider plant which I divided into three, and hanging and placing the new plants in the verandah and watering all the existing ones. I then swept most of the paths (after the scarifying and lawn-mowing they were covered in mud and grass) and wiped down the outside windowsills of the verandah, constructed by N last summer; they were dirty and green and he thought they might be permanently stained but they responded well to hot water and detergent.
After tea I spent a good deal of time in the kitchen cooking - there seems to be a lot to do at the moment. As it was Shrove Tuesday, I made savoury stuffed pancakes; first the filling, then the cheese sauce and finally the pancakes themselves, before rolling them up and putting them in the oven, covered in the sauce. At the same time I cooked Vitello Tonnato, a classic Italian dish I have never made before, requiring compiling over one or two days from veal, tuna and mayonnaise, to be eaten this evening. After the savoury pancakes we ate traditional sweet ones with lemon and sugar. Today I have made Bread Pudding, as a change from Apple Cake.
While I was in Britain at New Year I was asked whether I found enough to do here; no comment!
Friday 23 February 2007
As I write, Guillaume is here in the kitchen and the verandah making an awful noise cutting through the back of the kitchen cupboards to make a hole for the pipe. Monsieur A rang just after lunch and said could they come straight away; we were just about to have coffee but stopped and began clearing the verandah of furniture, except for the Italian sofa which is very heavy but will have to be moved before re-doing the floor. The table and chairs have gone into the Box Office with the rest of the summer garden furniture, and the large avocado plant into the salon where the Christmas tree was; it looks rather good.
This afternoon N has been to Bernay to Vive le Jardin to order a new water butt identical to the first one, which will go between the door of the woodshed and the door of the atelier. Currently the Christmas tree is planted there in the grass, but is looking very brown and poorly - not enough root - so its days are numbered. The new water butt will come on Wednesday, when I am in Paris. He has also bought a whole lot more bedding plants for the large flowerbed.
Yesterday we made a return trip to Bricomarché at Conches, primarily to buy the floor tiles, which were very inexpensive, in all well under 50 euros. And self-adhesive too, we thought we would have to buy the glue as well! Before this, first thing in the morning, N had been to the hairdresser, where amongst other things (such as the traiteur having gone bankrupt) he learned that there was a good market at Conches on Thursdays, with a particularly good fish stall.
After Bricomarché we eventually found the market on the outskirts of the town on a large patch of grass on the way to the station. There were a few stalls I recognised from L’Aigle and La Neuve-Lyre markets, but the fish I had never seen before, and it certainly lived up to its reputation. An amazingly large selection, and not as expensive as others we have patronised; just over 7 euros for a large piece of smoked haddock and two herring fillets. And lots of lively banter too, and a free giant prawn to try - I think the patron realised there was long queue who had been waiting some time, and wanted to keep us all happy. This started up a conversation with the woman in front of me who said she never ate anything before lunch; just a glass of orange juice when she woke up.
Another important purchase at Bricomarché was four breeze blocks (a new French word = parpaing) to put under the Great Plank in the first outhouse to make a sort of bench/table/surface on which to put vegetables, jam jars etc. They have all been put into place yesterday, and when I get a chance I will clean the plank and we can start using it.
This morning I have been to the hairdresser too, so now we are both smart and tidy. It was the first time I had been since just before Christmas, and it was busy and I waited a long time, but am pleased with the result and had a good chat as usual. Because of this and not being able to get into my kitchen this afternoon I’m a little behind with cooking - I made a large batch of braised red cabbage with apple yesterday which needs freezing, and also some celery soup made with a variety of leftovers, including the sauce from the Vitello Tonnato; this was good but a little liquid.
Saturday 24 February 2007
Large plank has now been cleaned in the first outhouse, ready for more storage. All the new bedding plants have been planted, some in the flowerbed and some in the newer rockery, in between showers today - more normal February weather. Outlook for Sunday is wet too, a pity as I shall be doing a couple of loads of washing - when Guillaume arrives on Monday the water will be switched off for part of the day, so last washing before I leave for Paris needs to be done tomorrow. Celery soup has been finished and tasted - very good, with bacon in it - and the rest frozen, along with the remains of the braised cabbage.
N is thinking of starting the new verandah floor while I am away in Paris; I have told him to be very careful with the Stanley knife, but we both realise that the floor will need lots of cleaning, re-sticking and drying before any new tiles can be put down. There is also the question of a new doorstep or threshold; currently the rain slides in under the door. The skirting boards will have to be repainted and in some cases actually provided, and bits of wall re-painted. And as soon as the room is empty with nothing going on I must clean the insides of the windows!
Nature notes: while having breakfast this week I have been watching a clump of daffodils through the kitchen window; gradually one by one they are bending over ready to bloom. (Last year this didn’t happen until the end of March) There are also tiny violets in the grass and around the fruit bushes; I had forgotten that we had those last year. There are more and more birds in the garden and one bullfinch in particular keeps tapping on the windows of the ground floor shower room and the gardener’s door. We are not sure of he is attacking his own reflection, looking for a mate, asking us for something or just saying hello. This morning we watched him for several seconds, perched on the outside door handle and tapping at the glass next to it.
Monday 26 February 2007
After lunch yesterday we began reading Sir Gawain and the Green Knight to each other in front of the fire. This was N’s choice (the Alice stories had been mine) and we are both enjoying it very much. Later during a quick break between showers we moved the Italian sofa from the verandah into the Box Office; it was very heavy. Just as well as this morning Guillaume came with an assistant and lots of equipment which is all over the verandah floor. The contents of the saucepan cupboards and those under the sink are all over the kitchen and dining room too; we had a picnic lunch on our knees in the grande pièce, and I have tried to keep out of the kitchen as much as I can; ironing upstairs and working in the study, and beginning my packing before leaving for Paris tomorrow. I shall return on Saturday; daughters will be with me from Thursday to Saturday, and until then I shall clean the apartment, make up beds and go food shopping, plus the usual catching-up in Saint-Denis at Yves Rocher and Sephora.
N has spent much of the morning reading the printed copy of this Blog, with much appreciation and a little amusement, I am pleased to say. He is also - perhaps inevitably - treating it as a proof-reading exercise, and keeps making pencil alterations in the margins.
Still no sign of Monsieur A or the water purifying system, or estimate for the garden wall and house façade. I rang him this morning, and he said as he had three chaps missing (N thought they were having the famous February holidays; I thought perhaps they were ill) they won’t be here before next week, he says he will ring us on Thursday or Friday.
Meanwhile life continues very quietly here in the country; the weather is mostly fine and sunny - it was apparently 16 degrees in Paris yesterday - and N is doing all sorts of things in the garden and the potting shed, and I am pottering between cooking, washing and my War Letters project, and we are watching various DVDs and TV programmes in between. I am also printing out the whole of this Blog, month by month - a rather longer project! Am currently half-way through, and putting it all in a ring binder. N is anxious to see it (he says) but wants to sit by the fire and read it as a Book, not on screen. I am enjoying reading it as I print it, and am amazed at all the things we have done that I have forgotten about.
Yesterday we went to La Ferrière-sur-Risle for the monthly Sunday antiques fair, and remembering when we got there that there is an ordinary market there too. It was very fine and sunny and we bought some excellent kippers (which we have just had for lunch today) and cod, which is in the freezer, and N bought a new thyme plant for the herb bed. All the herbs - both in the garden and in the windowsill pots are looking a bit end-of-season-ish, but last year we got them at Vive le Jardin in March, so we must hang on just a bit longer. At the antiques fair I bought two vintage Martini glasses (which I shall give to Madeleine, after we’ve tried them out here first!) and a couple of antique jam jars, which I think will look very good on the breakfast table with home-made apple jelly in them. Talking of home-made preserves, N’s latest carpentry project is a series of shelves for jam and chutney in the first outhouse; the same principle as the shelves for paperback books in the corridor. There is a blocked door between the first and second outhouse, very narrow but perhaps just wide enough for a jar.
After lunch on Sundays, in front of the fire, we have been reading « Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland » to each other, a chapter at a time. We are now on to « Through the Looking Glass », and today N read the chapter about the White Knight, very suitably I thought, as he sometimes reminds me of him; all the while thinking of another plan for some new invention. (« Through the Looking Glass » itself is very suitable for our salon, the mirror over the mantelpiece with the clock and the fire is exactly right.)
N has cut the grass for the first time, very unusual for February, but it was so long and very lush and green, and looks much better. He is now « scarifying » - rolling a kind of spiky trimmer all over the lawns, to pierce the soil and gather up the moss and clumps of cut grass and generally tidy things up. It will not be worth hoovering indoors until this is all over!
Wednesday 21 February 2007
The Jam and Chutney Shelves were put up this morning, and the jars put on them after lunch - a great success. Not only can I see at a glance how many I have got of everything - previously they were in wine boxes on top of the kitchen cupboards - but they will be nicely chilled, and N was worried about the weight on the cupboard tops. There is room for lots more, I’m pleased to say. There are plans for another Great Shelf in the first outhouse; a large heavy plank which we found here and which has been standing in the garage all this time.
Yesterday morning we went on a very successful trip to Conches: to Bricomarché, a small garden centre called Gamm Vert on the same site, and the new Intermarché supermarket nearby. One of N’s current projects is the diversion of rainfall from the roof of the garage, atelier and woodshed into a second (as yet unbought) water butt, and he wanted to get the necessary various pieces of pipe and hose. We also wanted to look at lino tiles for the verandah. When Monsieur A’s men eventually come to fit the water softening apparatus, it will necessitate moving everything out of the verandah (as it is to be fitted behind the sink, in the verandah itself) and this will be an excellent opportunity to re-do the floor. Originally we had hoped to have it tiled last October, but never heard from our Artisan; at the time we weren’t worried as there were lots of other things going on, and are now rather pleased not to have to pay for it, given the water purifier. We had thought about laying some spare lino - of which we have lots! - but remembered how fiddly the shower room was. N mentioned lino tiles, of which I had no experience, but they sounded reasonably easy and cheap. We were very pleased to find just the thing at Bricomarché; about 30 cms square, fake « parquet » flooring, which I certainly wouldn’t want in a salon or dining room, but think will be ideal in the verandah, a similar colour to the table and chairs, and easy to keep clean.
As well as all this N bought Topinembours (Jerusalem artichokes) and purple seed potatoes for the vegetable garden and I looked at watering cans - the nice one I brought from Cambridge has sprung a leak, but given the price of a new one (40 euros!) N might be able to fix it with the same stuff he is using for joining together the drainpipes. The garden section of Bricomarché was even better than that at Gamm Vert; I found lupins which I knew N wanted for the new larger flower bed, and he ended up buying all sorts of perennials. I found a beautiful white azalea (at Vive le Jardin they were all pink) more miniature daffodils, a very large healthy spider plant and a white plastic hanging flower pot for it to hang in the verandah.
This meant that we both spent most of yesterday afternoon working in the garden, N on his drainpipe project and me - after I had reorganised the indoor plants - on re-potting the spider plant which I divided into three, and hanging and placing the new plants in the verandah and watering all the existing ones. I then swept most of the paths (after the scarifying and lawn-mowing they were covered in mud and grass) and wiped down the outside windowsills of the verandah, constructed by N last summer; they were dirty and green and he thought they might be permanently stained but they responded well to hot water and detergent.
After tea I spent a good deal of time in the kitchen cooking - there seems to be a lot to do at the moment. As it was Shrove Tuesday, I made savoury stuffed pancakes; first the filling, then the cheese sauce and finally the pancakes themselves, before rolling them up and putting them in the oven, covered in the sauce. At the same time I cooked Vitello Tonnato, a classic Italian dish I have never made before, requiring compiling over one or two days from veal, tuna and mayonnaise, to be eaten this evening. After the savoury pancakes we ate traditional sweet ones with lemon and sugar. Today I have made Bread Pudding, as a change from Apple Cake.
While I was in Britain at New Year I was asked whether I found enough to do here; no comment!
Friday 23 February 2007
As I write, Guillaume is here in the kitchen and the verandah making an awful noise cutting through the back of the kitchen cupboards to make a hole for the pipe. Monsieur A rang just after lunch and said could they come straight away; we were just about to have coffee but stopped and began clearing the verandah of furniture, except for the Italian sofa which is very heavy but will have to be moved before re-doing the floor. The table and chairs have gone into the Box Office with the rest of the summer garden furniture, and the large avocado plant into the salon where the Christmas tree was; it looks rather good.
This afternoon N has been to Bernay to Vive le Jardin to order a new water butt identical to the first one, which will go between the door of the woodshed and the door of the atelier. Currently the Christmas tree is planted there in the grass, but is looking very brown and poorly - not enough root - so its days are numbered. The new water butt will come on Wednesday, when I am in Paris. He has also bought a whole lot more bedding plants for the large flowerbed.
Yesterday we made a return trip to Bricomarché at Conches, primarily to buy the floor tiles, which were very inexpensive, in all well under 50 euros. And self-adhesive too, we thought we would have to buy the glue as well! Before this, first thing in the morning, N had been to the hairdresser, where amongst other things (such as the traiteur having gone bankrupt) he learned that there was a good market at Conches on Thursdays, with a particularly good fish stall.
After Bricomarché we eventually found the market on the outskirts of the town on a large patch of grass on the way to the station. There were a few stalls I recognised from L’Aigle and La Neuve-Lyre markets, but the fish I had never seen before, and it certainly lived up to its reputation. An amazingly large selection, and not as expensive as others we have patronised; just over 7 euros for a large piece of smoked haddock and two herring fillets. And lots of lively banter too, and a free giant prawn to try - I think the patron realised there was long queue who had been waiting some time, and wanted to keep us all happy. This started up a conversation with the woman in front of me who said she never ate anything before lunch; just a glass of orange juice when she woke up.
Another important purchase at Bricomarché was four breeze blocks (a new French word = parpaing) to put under the Great Plank in the first outhouse to make a sort of bench/table/surface on which to put vegetables, jam jars etc. They have all been put into place yesterday, and when I get a chance I will clean the plank and we can start using it.
This morning I have been to the hairdresser too, so now we are both smart and tidy. It was the first time I had been since just before Christmas, and it was busy and I waited a long time, but am pleased with the result and had a good chat as usual. Because of this and not being able to get into my kitchen this afternoon I’m a little behind with cooking - I made a large batch of braised red cabbage with apple yesterday which needs freezing, and also some celery soup made with a variety of leftovers, including the sauce from the Vitello Tonnato; this was good but a little liquid.
Saturday 24 February 2007
Large plank has now been cleaned in the first outhouse, ready for more storage. All the new bedding plants have been planted, some in the flowerbed and some in the newer rockery, in between showers today - more normal February weather. Outlook for Sunday is wet too, a pity as I shall be doing a couple of loads of washing - when Guillaume arrives on Monday the water will be switched off for part of the day, so last washing before I leave for Paris needs to be done tomorrow. Celery soup has been finished and tasted - very good, with bacon in it - and the rest frozen, along with the remains of the braised cabbage.
N is thinking of starting the new verandah floor while I am away in Paris; I have told him to be very careful with the Stanley knife, but we both realise that the floor will need lots of cleaning, re-sticking and drying before any new tiles can be put down. There is also the question of a new doorstep or threshold; currently the rain slides in under the door. The skirting boards will have to be repainted and in some cases actually provided, and bits of wall re-painted. And as soon as the room is empty with nothing going on I must clean the insides of the windows!
Nature notes: while having breakfast this week I have been watching a clump of daffodils through the kitchen window; gradually one by one they are bending over ready to bloom. (Last year this didn’t happen until the end of March) There are also tiny violets in the grass and around the fruit bushes; I had forgotten that we had those last year. There are more and more birds in the garden and one bullfinch in particular keeps tapping on the windows of the ground floor shower room and the gardener’s door. We are not sure of he is attacking his own reflection, looking for a mate, asking us for something or just saying hello. This morning we watched him for several seconds, perched on the outside door handle and tapping at the glass next to it.
Monday 26 February 2007
After lunch yesterday we began reading Sir Gawain and the Green Knight to each other in front of the fire. This was N’s choice (the Alice stories had been mine) and we are both enjoying it very much. Later during a quick break between showers we moved the Italian sofa from the verandah into the Box Office; it was very heavy. Just as well as this morning Guillaume came with an assistant and lots of equipment which is all over the verandah floor. The contents of the saucepan cupboards and those under the sink are all over the kitchen and dining room too; we had a picnic lunch on our knees in the grande pièce, and I have tried to keep out of the kitchen as much as I can; ironing upstairs and working in the study, and beginning my packing before leaving for Paris tomorrow. I shall return on Saturday; daughters will be with me from Thursday to Saturday, and until then I shall clean the apartment, make up beds and go food shopping, plus the usual catching-up in Saint-Denis at Yves Rocher and Sephora.
N has spent much of the morning reading the printed copy of this Blog, with much appreciation and a little amusement, I am pleased to say. He is also - perhaps inevitably - treating it as a proof-reading exercise, and keeps making pencil alterations in the margins.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Wednesday 7 February 2007
On Saturday morning at Saint-Denis we tidied and packed, and then after the usual complications with opening the big gates and driving the car into the courtyard and loading it (complete with an ailing ceanothus in a large flowerpot bound for a rest cure in the Normandy air) we set off for LNL, stopping for an afternoon’s music at Livilliers.
There were quite a few people there whom we recognised from our previous visit in January last year, many of whom kindly recognised us, and one gentleman who kissed all the ladies’ hands. Not sure whether this has ever happened to me before! Our host looked just the same, quietly filling glasses and filming part of the proceedings, but our hostess’ hair was a new colour - an improvement, I felt - which was more than could be said for her dress sense. Her singing was still slightly strained, with strange facial expressions especially when singing in German; she fared better once she switched to Poulenc.
We spoke briefly to a clarinettist we remembered from last time; he turned out to be an Englishman who had studied at Cambridge, but he left the party soon afterwards to go and sing the Mozart Requiem that evening before we could find out more, apart from him saying if I enjoyed choral singing I ought to do it more, and my saying it was difficult while living in two places at once.
N and the rest of the quartet played the Beethoven; I felt it really came together in the third movement, and N was surprised when I said this. Afterwards he was asked to play in an impromptu performance of a movement from a Schumann quintet with piano which sounded wonderful; there were a few stops and restarts, and the pianist suggested that next time they played it all.
The real highlights of the afternoon however, were two cello sonatas; the first by Schumann played by a cellist called Jean-Maurice whom we had met last time together with his wife - one of the audience like me - with whom we thought we had got on very well. The other sonata by Shostakovich was played by one of the more elderly guests; afterwards I thought how amazing it was that so much energy could come from a little old man in a grey pullover. Both were accompanied by excellent pianists. Those of us listening were quiet spellbound by these performances, and broke into spontaneous applause at the end; quiet unlike our reception of our hostess’ singing.
We left at about 7.00 and drove in the dark through firstly unfamiliar then more familiar roads, back to Normandy and La Neuve-Lyre, thanks to the satellite navigation. The house warmed up fairly well, and we checked our post-box the same evening, but several things we had been expecting were not there. A few days later it occurred to me just how efficient this new heating system is; once it’s got going again you don’t notice it at all, the house is just comfortable to be in and move around in.
On Sunday morning we inspected the garden; lots of snowdrops out, much earlier then last year, and even some daffodil leaves poking through, and half a dozen bright pink flowers on the camellia. I set off to the village shops in search of some meat for Sunday lunch; the traiteur was closed which surprised me, so I went on to the butchers for some lamb chops (we still have an good supply of excellent home-made mint jelly) and overheard in conversation that the traiteur had closed down definitively and that they had left! This was a great blow it seemed, to us and to the whole village; apparently they had only been there two years, I remembered Marie-Antoinette saying when we praised them that they were not as good as the previous traiteur. When I next see her must ask if she has any information.
Friday 9 February 2007
There have been many times since my move to France that I have felt I have really arrived; receiving a phone number, a Carte Vitale, a tax number, not to mention The Kissing, but now we are truly part of things as we have been counted in the census! There was a note in our post box explaining this soon after New Year and saying that it would happen in February - unlike Britain it occurs every five years and not for everyone at the same time - and that this year it was the turn of our commune. (And of a few others, too, I suppose.) I was especially interested as I had worked on the collection of forms in Cambridge during the 1991 census in Britain, where it was a just a case of delivering them and then picking them up again completed by the householders. I had expected to find our forms in the post box too, but on Monday morning the lady duly arrived, saying she had had some trouble finding us - I assume she had called several times while were away. She sat in the salon and wrote down our answers to all the usual questions, plus a few I didn’t expect, such as what kind of fuel did we use to heat the house, and how many cars had we got, and where were we living in 2002, date of the last census in LNL. Not sure if this is less or more efficient than the British system!
We had received a phone message from the garden centre to the effect that N’s chain-saw which he had taken to be repaired was now ready for collection, so went to Bernay on Monday afternoon, to visit the garden centre and to do some more serious food shopping. (The chain-saw had last been used in Italy some years ago, and is now needed to deal with dead branch from the apple tree, to make us some extra firewood.) N also bought an interesting blue plant called an agapanthus, lots of seed potatoes and onions and a little magnolia tree, which is my Valentine’s Day present, as I have always wanted one. It has been planted in the middle of the front lawn, and I feel it should have a red ribbon tied round it next Wednesday.
When I was hardly awake on Tuesday morning I saw what I thought were flakes of snow twirling about on the other side of the net curtains, and on drawing them back found that it really was snowing! It had not been forecast, but as N said, temperatures below freezing plus forecast rain = snow. As the morning wore on and it got warmer it all melted, and as I thought, was all gone by 11.00. It is the first snow we have seen here this year though, but we suspect there was some here earlier while we were still in Paris. Very unlike last winter, when it was much colder and frostier.
N received a message from « La Maison du Dictionnaire » (the publishers of the Lexique) thanking us for our visit and asking us for a Press Release in English, which could be sent to likely contacts in Britain, plus a list of English internet sites we thought would be interested (estate agents, property magazines, etc.) I spent several afternoons drafting the Press Release (which I very much enjoyed) and trawling through the English language French house-buying magazines Madeleine had brought last November looking for - and typing out - the website addresses, which I enjoyed slightly less as there were dozens of them. But it could all prove very worth while if it means extra copies being sold, and has all now been sent on to La M du D, who have thanked us for our efficiency.
One of the main reasons we are here all this month is the expected installation of the water purification system by Monsieur A and his team, and having heard nothing I phoned this morning for news, and was told he would be in touch on Monday. We are also waiting for an estimate for the re-doing of the garden wall and the famous Façade; this was promised for Monday too.
Sunday 11 February 2007
In between times when the weather has been fine and dry N has done more gardening; the vegetable patch is now completely clear and re-dug ready for this year’s crops to be sown - in careful rotation from last year - which N is very anxious to start. The last few Brussels sprouts were picked yesterday, and the bulk of them frozen; I’d forgotten just how much time it takes, it was like last July all over again. He has also got the chainsaw going (very carefully) and chopped up the dead apple branch which fell off last summer, and cut dead stumps off both the apple tree and the cherry tree, so that they look much tidier. The smaller apple branches have been burned on the fire today, but the larger ones need to dry out in the wood shed.
On Friday morning I called at the vegetable stall (and found another lovely Romanesco cauliflower!) There was no-one else there, and stallholders said it was very quiet, where were all the people in this village, were they all ill in bed? I laughed and said I hoped not, and on going to the boulangerie found it completely empty, and told the boulangère what they had said. She just said February is always a very miserable month. What with this and N anxious for March to begin so that he can plant things, I keep thinking of this, and how Valentine’s Day always comes just as the weather is at its dullest and there is very little else happening. (N said wasn’t the boulangère busy getting Valentine cakes ready for next week?) Last year we were so busy it took us by surprise, but this year I am planning a Gala Dinner. When we were last at Casa in Bernay N bought a Fondue Set on impulse (even though he has a cheap one and I have an old one) so next Wednesday we are planning Fondue Bouguignonne, and I think I should do something with my heart-shaped cake moulds which have not been used for many years.
Tuesday 13 February 2007
This morning I went on the bus to the market at L’Aigle, mainly for a change of scene, but also because the weather was so fine and sunny (8 degrees) and because there is still no sign of Monsieur A or any of this team. It was the first time I had been since November when Madeleine was with me, and there were quite a few changes in the stalls. I bought smoked haddock, local mushrooms, two kinds of Normandy honey, handkerchiefs for N, (the first time have seen a handkerchief stall there!) white tulips and a ring binder and plastic pockets for my latest project.
This project is the sorting and editing of various family letters I brought back with me from Ipswich, dating from the 1914-18 War. Some of them are very fragile, as can be imagined, so after having typed the texts - so that all the family can read them easily - I am filing them carefully in the ring binder. It is very absorbing work, and some afternoons I have almost felt I was living in 1917 myself. Since arriving back here from Paris 10 days ago there was first of all urgent work to do on the Lexique plus so much catching up in the house, that I have divided my time up more strictly. In the mornings I do whatever needs doing in the house or kitchen, and in the afternoons spend time in my study; work on the computer, e-mails, letters or other paperwork, and most recently the War Letters. It’s proving a very good system.
Thursday 15 February 2007
The Valentine dinner was a great success, just as well as we plan to have more Fondues when we have guests. The little heart-shaped moulds were fiddly to turn the cakes out of, but the cake very good eaten with chocolate sauce, and there was enough mixture for a larger round cake for the freezer. The other event yesterday was N announcing at lunchtime that he had ordered flowers for me which should have arrived during the morning - he had to spoil the surprise and tell me as we were due to go out to Bernay! When we came back there was a large box by the front gate, containing a beautiful big bunch of pink roses, green chrysanthemums, strange but petty pink and red berries and lots of greenery. It took a long time to undo the raffia ties - as instructed - and separate them all, and they filled two vases, one for the dining room table and one on the sideboard in the grande pièce. It is lovely to have so many fresh flowers indoors at this time of the year. After dinner we had a very enjoyable time watching a free DVD sent by the Paris Opera; N usually receives brochures and schedules but this time they sent a DVD to give an idea of the season’s programme. We are going to Paris later in March to see a ballet based on music admired by Proust, which I am very much looking forward to, especially as it is at the Palais Garnier - the original Paris Opéra, as opposed to Bastille opera house, which is very fine but only dates from 1989! This is particularly fitting as Proust himself was a regular visitor to Palais Garnier, just down the road from where he lived in Boulevard Haussmann.
We had gone to Bernay in the afternoon for a regular visit to the supermarket and also to the furniture store Sesame. N bought a high-backed chair for his study to support his back while at the computer, playing the viola or sitting at the keyboard, and I continued my search for a footstool - most of them were entirely the wrong colours but I found a tiny little wooden one with a rush top for 12 euros to be going on with. We also called in at Casa, where previously I had seen square pouffes in lurid oranges and turquoises - only afterwards did it occur to me that I could cover one in something more muted. They were no longer there, but I bought a square white woven plastic pouffe - N said it looks like an upside down bird cage, but is just the job and looks fine next to the white-clothed coffee table and beige sofa in the grande pièce, and most important of all it is lovely to rest my feet on, especially now I have found a cushion to go on the top.
Today the weather is beautifully spring like - like it was on Tuesday, with heavy rain in between yesterday. N has been in the garden most of the day, emptying the original compost bin on to the newly dug vegetable garden, and then moving it next to the second bin at the other end of the plot, leaving the end wall bare ready for when Monsieur A’s men (if ever) start repairing the face of the garden wall. Apart from snowdrops, and mini daffodils by the verandah door there are now one crocus and quite few primroses, and the regular daffodils in the middle of the garden will be out soon. N has found a tiny nest - about the size of coffee cup - in the middle of the star-flower bush. Presumably when it was constructed it was well hidden by branches. There are more and more birds in the garden now, and in the mornings it is light by about 8.00 when we have tea and coffee in bed and we can draw back the curtains and watch them in the big fir tree, or on the balcony.
I have finished the first part of the Life of George Sand, and am now well into the second - the timing of the changeover was not good - in the middle of my Eurostar journey to Ipswich, so that I ended up carrying both volumes around with me. When I bought the second volume (in Paris in between Germany and Ipswich) I read the synopsis of her life in the train on the way home, and it is frustrating to have to read all thorough a treatise on Jesuit doctrine when I know there are such fascinating things such as voyages and affairs with Chopin and De Musset to come!
We are here until almost the end of the month; I shall go to Paris for a quick visit from both daughters, and then both N and I will go to Le Mans for a couple of days to visit Simone (who came here last August) N to play music and me to sit and enjoy it, and also to be shown round the historic sights of Le Mans. After going to Milan at the end of March, we then hope to have three lots of visitors here in Normandy in April, though at the time of writing only two bookings have been confirmed!
On Saturday morning at Saint-Denis we tidied and packed, and then after the usual complications with opening the big gates and driving the car into the courtyard and loading it (complete with an ailing ceanothus in a large flowerpot bound for a rest cure in the Normandy air) we set off for LNL, stopping for an afternoon’s music at Livilliers.
There were quite a few people there whom we recognised from our previous visit in January last year, many of whom kindly recognised us, and one gentleman who kissed all the ladies’ hands. Not sure whether this has ever happened to me before! Our host looked just the same, quietly filling glasses and filming part of the proceedings, but our hostess’ hair was a new colour - an improvement, I felt - which was more than could be said for her dress sense. Her singing was still slightly strained, with strange facial expressions especially when singing in German; she fared better once she switched to Poulenc.
We spoke briefly to a clarinettist we remembered from last time; he turned out to be an Englishman who had studied at Cambridge, but he left the party soon afterwards to go and sing the Mozart Requiem that evening before we could find out more, apart from him saying if I enjoyed choral singing I ought to do it more, and my saying it was difficult while living in two places at once.
N and the rest of the quartet played the Beethoven; I felt it really came together in the third movement, and N was surprised when I said this. Afterwards he was asked to play in an impromptu performance of a movement from a Schumann quintet with piano which sounded wonderful; there were a few stops and restarts, and the pianist suggested that next time they played it all.
The real highlights of the afternoon however, were two cello sonatas; the first by Schumann played by a cellist called Jean-Maurice whom we had met last time together with his wife - one of the audience like me - with whom we thought we had got on very well. The other sonata by Shostakovich was played by one of the more elderly guests; afterwards I thought how amazing it was that so much energy could come from a little old man in a grey pullover. Both were accompanied by excellent pianists. Those of us listening were quiet spellbound by these performances, and broke into spontaneous applause at the end; quiet unlike our reception of our hostess’ singing.
We left at about 7.00 and drove in the dark through firstly unfamiliar then more familiar roads, back to Normandy and La Neuve-Lyre, thanks to the satellite navigation. The house warmed up fairly well, and we checked our post-box the same evening, but several things we had been expecting were not there. A few days later it occurred to me just how efficient this new heating system is; once it’s got going again you don’t notice it at all, the house is just comfortable to be in and move around in.
On Sunday morning we inspected the garden; lots of snowdrops out, much earlier then last year, and even some daffodil leaves poking through, and half a dozen bright pink flowers on the camellia. I set off to the village shops in search of some meat for Sunday lunch; the traiteur was closed which surprised me, so I went on to the butchers for some lamb chops (we still have an good supply of excellent home-made mint jelly) and overheard in conversation that the traiteur had closed down definitively and that they had left! This was a great blow it seemed, to us and to the whole village; apparently they had only been there two years, I remembered Marie-Antoinette saying when we praised them that they were not as good as the previous traiteur. When I next see her must ask if she has any information.
Friday 9 February 2007
There have been many times since my move to France that I have felt I have really arrived; receiving a phone number, a Carte Vitale, a tax number, not to mention The Kissing, but now we are truly part of things as we have been counted in the census! There was a note in our post box explaining this soon after New Year and saying that it would happen in February - unlike Britain it occurs every five years and not for everyone at the same time - and that this year it was the turn of our commune. (And of a few others, too, I suppose.) I was especially interested as I had worked on the collection of forms in Cambridge during the 1991 census in Britain, where it was a just a case of delivering them and then picking them up again completed by the householders. I had expected to find our forms in the post box too, but on Monday morning the lady duly arrived, saying she had had some trouble finding us - I assume she had called several times while were away. She sat in the salon and wrote down our answers to all the usual questions, plus a few I didn’t expect, such as what kind of fuel did we use to heat the house, and how many cars had we got, and where were we living in 2002, date of the last census in LNL. Not sure if this is less or more efficient than the British system!
We had received a phone message from the garden centre to the effect that N’s chain-saw which he had taken to be repaired was now ready for collection, so went to Bernay on Monday afternoon, to visit the garden centre and to do some more serious food shopping. (The chain-saw had last been used in Italy some years ago, and is now needed to deal with dead branch from the apple tree, to make us some extra firewood.) N also bought an interesting blue plant called an agapanthus, lots of seed potatoes and onions and a little magnolia tree, which is my Valentine’s Day present, as I have always wanted one. It has been planted in the middle of the front lawn, and I feel it should have a red ribbon tied round it next Wednesday.
When I was hardly awake on Tuesday morning I saw what I thought were flakes of snow twirling about on the other side of the net curtains, and on drawing them back found that it really was snowing! It had not been forecast, but as N said, temperatures below freezing plus forecast rain = snow. As the morning wore on and it got warmer it all melted, and as I thought, was all gone by 11.00. It is the first snow we have seen here this year though, but we suspect there was some here earlier while we were still in Paris. Very unlike last winter, when it was much colder and frostier.
N received a message from « La Maison du Dictionnaire » (the publishers of the Lexique) thanking us for our visit and asking us for a Press Release in English, which could be sent to likely contacts in Britain, plus a list of English internet sites we thought would be interested (estate agents, property magazines, etc.) I spent several afternoons drafting the Press Release (which I very much enjoyed) and trawling through the English language French house-buying magazines Madeleine had brought last November looking for - and typing out - the website addresses, which I enjoyed slightly less as there were dozens of them. But it could all prove very worth while if it means extra copies being sold, and has all now been sent on to La M du D, who have thanked us for our efficiency.
One of the main reasons we are here all this month is the expected installation of the water purification system by Monsieur A and his team, and having heard nothing I phoned this morning for news, and was told he would be in touch on Monday. We are also waiting for an estimate for the re-doing of the garden wall and the famous Façade; this was promised for Monday too.
Sunday 11 February 2007
In between times when the weather has been fine and dry N has done more gardening; the vegetable patch is now completely clear and re-dug ready for this year’s crops to be sown - in careful rotation from last year - which N is very anxious to start. The last few Brussels sprouts were picked yesterday, and the bulk of them frozen; I’d forgotten just how much time it takes, it was like last July all over again. He has also got the chainsaw going (very carefully) and chopped up the dead apple branch which fell off last summer, and cut dead stumps off both the apple tree and the cherry tree, so that they look much tidier. The smaller apple branches have been burned on the fire today, but the larger ones need to dry out in the wood shed.
On Friday morning I called at the vegetable stall (and found another lovely Romanesco cauliflower!) There was no-one else there, and stallholders said it was very quiet, where were all the people in this village, were they all ill in bed? I laughed and said I hoped not, and on going to the boulangerie found it completely empty, and told the boulangère what they had said. She just said February is always a very miserable month. What with this and N anxious for March to begin so that he can plant things, I keep thinking of this, and how Valentine’s Day always comes just as the weather is at its dullest and there is very little else happening. (N said wasn’t the boulangère busy getting Valentine cakes ready for next week?) Last year we were so busy it took us by surprise, but this year I am planning a Gala Dinner. When we were last at Casa in Bernay N bought a Fondue Set on impulse (even though he has a cheap one and I have an old one) so next Wednesday we are planning Fondue Bouguignonne, and I think I should do something with my heart-shaped cake moulds which have not been used for many years.
Tuesday 13 February 2007
This morning I went on the bus to the market at L’Aigle, mainly for a change of scene, but also because the weather was so fine and sunny (8 degrees) and because there is still no sign of Monsieur A or any of this team. It was the first time I had been since November when Madeleine was with me, and there were quite a few changes in the stalls. I bought smoked haddock, local mushrooms, two kinds of Normandy honey, handkerchiefs for N, (the first time have seen a handkerchief stall there!) white tulips and a ring binder and plastic pockets for my latest project.
This project is the sorting and editing of various family letters I brought back with me from Ipswich, dating from the 1914-18 War. Some of them are very fragile, as can be imagined, so after having typed the texts - so that all the family can read them easily - I am filing them carefully in the ring binder. It is very absorbing work, and some afternoons I have almost felt I was living in 1917 myself. Since arriving back here from Paris 10 days ago there was first of all urgent work to do on the Lexique plus so much catching up in the house, that I have divided my time up more strictly. In the mornings I do whatever needs doing in the house or kitchen, and in the afternoons spend time in my study; work on the computer, e-mails, letters or other paperwork, and most recently the War Letters. It’s proving a very good system.
Thursday 15 February 2007
The Valentine dinner was a great success, just as well as we plan to have more Fondues when we have guests. The little heart-shaped moulds were fiddly to turn the cakes out of, but the cake very good eaten with chocolate sauce, and there was enough mixture for a larger round cake for the freezer. The other event yesterday was N announcing at lunchtime that he had ordered flowers for me which should have arrived during the morning - he had to spoil the surprise and tell me as we were due to go out to Bernay! When we came back there was a large box by the front gate, containing a beautiful big bunch of pink roses, green chrysanthemums, strange but petty pink and red berries and lots of greenery. It took a long time to undo the raffia ties - as instructed - and separate them all, and they filled two vases, one for the dining room table and one on the sideboard in the grande pièce. It is lovely to have so many fresh flowers indoors at this time of the year. After dinner we had a very enjoyable time watching a free DVD sent by the Paris Opera; N usually receives brochures and schedules but this time they sent a DVD to give an idea of the season’s programme. We are going to Paris later in March to see a ballet based on music admired by Proust, which I am very much looking forward to, especially as it is at the Palais Garnier - the original Paris Opéra, as opposed to Bastille opera house, which is very fine but only dates from 1989! This is particularly fitting as Proust himself was a regular visitor to Palais Garnier, just down the road from where he lived in Boulevard Haussmann.
We had gone to Bernay in the afternoon for a regular visit to the supermarket and also to the furniture store Sesame. N bought a high-backed chair for his study to support his back while at the computer, playing the viola or sitting at the keyboard, and I continued my search for a footstool - most of them were entirely the wrong colours but I found a tiny little wooden one with a rush top for 12 euros to be going on with. We also called in at Casa, where previously I had seen square pouffes in lurid oranges and turquoises - only afterwards did it occur to me that I could cover one in something more muted. They were no longer there, but I bought a square white woven plastic pouffe - N said it looks like an upside down bird cage, but is just the job and looks fine next to the white-clothed coffee table and beige sofa in the grande pièce, and most important of all it is lovely to rest my feet on, especially now I have found a cushion to go on the top.
Today the weather is beautifully spring like - like it was on Tuesday, with heavy rain in between yesterday. N has been in the garden most of the day, emptying the original compost bin on to the newly dug vegetable garden, and then moving it next to the second bin at the other end of the plot, leaving the end wall bare ready for when Monsieur A’s men (if ever) start repairing the face of the garden wall. Apart from snowdrops, and mini daffodils by the verandah door there are now one crocus and quite few primroses, and the regular daffodils in the middle of the garden will be out soon. N has found a tiny nest - about the size of coffee cup - in the middle of the star-flower bush. Presumably when it was constructed it was well hidden by branches. There are more and more birds in the garden now, and in the mornings it is light by about 8.00 when we have tea and coffee in bed and we can draw back the curtains and watch them in the big fir tree, or on the balcony.
I have finished the first part of the Life of George Sand, and am now well into the second - the timing of the changeover was not good - in the middle of my Eurostar journey to Ipswich, so that I ended up carrying both volumes around with me. When I bought the second volume (in Paris in between Germany and Ipswich) I read the synopsis of her life in the train on the way home, and it is frustrating to have to read all thorough a treatise on Jesuit doctrine when I know there are such fascinating things such as voyages and affairs with Chopin and De Musset to come!
We are here until almost the end of the month; I shall go to Paris for a quick visit from both daughters, and then both N and I will go to Le Mans for a couple of days to visit Simone (who came here last August) N to play music and me to sit and enjoy it, and also to be shown round the historic sights of Le Mans. After going to Milan at the end of March, we then hope to have three lots of visitors here in Normandy in April, though at the time of writing only two bookings have been confirmed!
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Friday 2 February 2007
After arriving back from Germany on Monday, I had just two days turn around before leaving for Ipswich on the Thursday. There were all the usual maintenance tasks to be done; washing, ironing, e-mails and phone messages plus a visit to the cinema - my programme was waiting in the post and I found I could go and see "Volver" the following day at 6.00 pm, which I very much enjoyed. I also went to the hairdressers in Saint-Denis, having decided it would be too long to wait until I got back to LNL; they were surprised when I said yes, I had been there before about a year ago, and I ended up having a long conversation about Normandy with the manager. The haircut was good but not as short as usual, so no doubt I will be back at my village salon again before too long.
A less pleasant experience was having my shopping trolley broken by two little urchins while wheeling it back from Carrefour full of shopping - they thought it would be a joke to creep up behind me and pick up the back axel and drop it, and one of the wheels broke off. I think they were a little aghast at what had happened, and then tried to make out they thought I was the mother of one of them, as from behind, I looked just the same, they said. I was surprised at my ability for fierce telling-off in French, and asked where they lived and vaguely threatened to speak to their parents. When I got home both N and I agreed that it wasn't worth it; I was about to go off again in a couple of days, it had been quite a cheap trolley anyway, and the best thing to do was just to replace it. Ironically, the next day I was coming home from fetching the bread and there were three gendarmes walking down that street! They are never there when you need them.
I set off via Eurostar on Thursday morning, and was in Ipswich by 5.00; I am getting quite used to the Saint-Denis - Ipswich journey by now. I stayed for a long weekend until Tuesday; helping my brother and sister tidy and sort my mother's house and what was left in it, discussions on various things, what should be kept and what sold and so on. On Saturday daughters Madeleine and Caroline came to help, and the whole family went out to tea. I brought some smaller pieces of china, cutlery and photos back with me, but packed larger items in a cupboard destined for me (originally belonging to my great-grandparents) which - if all goes well! - should be driven to LNL by my brother and brother-in-law next April when they come to visit. On Sunday we visited various places of family interest in Felixstowe where we had lived as children, and then on Monday I had a complete change of activity when my friend Gill from Cambridge came to Ipswich and we spent the day sitting in restaurants and catching up. By the time I returned on Tuesday I was very tired - talking, remembering and reminiscing is hard work! and slept most of the train journey home. N was there to meet me at the Gare du Nord, all the nicer as I hadn't expected him, and being driven back to Saint-Denis reminded me of when I used to come and visit, before I lived here.
We had originally planned to drive back to Normandy the next day, as we seem to have been away for so long, but accepted an invitation for Saturday (tomorrow) for a musical afternoon at Livilliers, where we went on a similar occasion in January last year, where together with two violinists and his cellist friend Jean) N will play a Beethoven quartet. So this means I have had another few days catching up here again this week; without the cinema and the hairdresser this time, but I did go to the chorale yesterday evening. We spent most of the time - very enjoyably - on the Fauré Requiem again, plus two other shorter Renaissance pieces. No news whatsoever of a performance date; the chef says the next concert will be all Renaissance pieces (including some from last year, which we all know, even me!) and it will take place when we are ready. No mention of when the Fauré performance might be. I gave Marie-Christine my e-mail address and asked her to let me know if and when there is any news of a date; she said if we had any new music she would scan it and send it to me; we shall see!
The most important happening while I was away was the arrival in the post of the corrected proofs of the Lexique (Dictionary of French/English property terms.) N had checked them and found about a dozen mistakes; I spent all Wednesday afternoon reading through and found about 30 or 40. As before, he didn't know whether to be pleased or sorry. I even found errors in his list of corrections. At least I feel I am earning my share of the royalties (if any) and the right to have my name on the cover, even if it was spelt wrongly twice! What's more, he had made an appointment for us to go and see the publishers and take them the corrected proofs in person, at 10.00 this morning. As I have never had An Appointment with My Publisher before, I found it all extremely interesting.
The office/shop was in Montparnasse, and deals only in dictionaries; professional and trade guides and dictionaries as well as all the most usual and the most obscure combinations of language dictionaries you could think of - apparently the latest is Serbo-Greek. We squashed into a very small office, three of us at one desk, and N went though the errors one by one with his contact Marie - including a large missing letter « I » from the front cover, spotted by me - and she seemed to think it would all be straightforward. It reminded me of the more exciting parts of my work in the office in Cambridge; editing and proof-reading the office newsletter over and over again until it was perfect, and of the exam papers which were stamped "Approved for Print". (In French: "Bon à Tirer".) I even briefly found myself wondering if I could get a job there, until I remembered the very long dull metro journey from Saint-Denis to Montparnasse, not to mention the fact that I live in Normandy.
It seemed a long time since N and I had been into Paris together, and when we came out of the office at 10.30 we wondered what to do next. We visited the nearby Maine-Montparnasse shopping centre where I used to go often when I lived here in 1973 and it was newly opened, but it didn't seem as comprehensive as the Forum des Halles, so we didn't stay long. My main requirement was a new shopping trolley and I remembered seeing a large selection at BHV and managed to get one in the sale, a little stronger than before, I hope.
N's main shopping requirements were a guide book and street map of Milan from FNAC, as while I had been away in Ipswich he had booked us a three-day trip there for the end of March. He also needed large rolls of strong sellotape for mending sheet music - it has all now been labelled together with the rest of his books, but much of it was falling apart. We had lunch at Tarte Julie at the Forum des Halles on the way back, a lovely little restaurant which, as the name might suggest, specialises in serving sweet and savoury tarts. Once we got back to Saint-Denis station I went on to Carrefour to try out my new shopping trolley; even though we are leaving tomorrow we shall go straight from Livilliers to Normandy as it is on the way and we need to take a contribution to eat, like last time. When I got back I found N playing some of his newly strengthened piano music; he said he had been playing Greig, and Greig had won.
After arriving back from Germany on Monday, I had just two days turn around before leaving for Ipswich on the Thursday. There were all the usual maintenance tasks to be done; washing, ironing, e-mails and phone messages plus a visit to the cinema - my programme was waiting in the post and I found I could go and see "Volver" the following day at 6.00 pm, which I very much enjoyed. I also went to the hairdressers in Saint-Denis, having decided it would be too long to wait until I got back to LNL; they were surprised when I said yes, I had been there before about a year ago, and I ended up having a long conversation about Normandy with the manager. The haircut was good but not as short as usual, so no doubt I will be back at my village salon again before too long.
A less pleasant experience was having my shopping trolley broken by two little urchins while wheeling it back from Carrefour full of shopping - they thought it would be a joke to creep up behind me and pick up the back axel and drop it, and one of the wheels broke off. I think they were a little aghast at what had happened, and then tried to make out they thought I was the mother of one of them, as from behind, I looked just the same, they said. I was surprised at my ability for fierce telling-off in French, and asked where they lived and vaguely threatened to speak to their parents. When I got home both N and I agreed that it wasn't worth it; I was about to go off again in a couple of days, it had been quite a cheap trolley anyway, and the best thing to do was just to replace it. Ironically, the next day I was coming home from fetching the bread and there were three gendarmes walking down that street! They are never there when you need them.
I set off via Eurostar on Thursday morning, and was in Ipswich by 5.00; I am getting quite used to the Saint-Denis - Ipswich journey by now. I stayed for a long weekend until Tuesday; helping my brother and sister tidy and sort my mother's house and what was left in it, discussions on various things, what should be kept and what sold and so on. On Saturday daughters Madeleine and Caroline came to help, and the whole family went out to tea. I brought some smaller pieces of china, cutlery and photos back with me, but packed larger items in a cupboard destined for me (originally belonging to my great-grandparents) which - if all goes well! - should be driven to LNL by my brother and brother-in-law next April when they come to visit. On Sunday we visited various places of family interest in Felixstowe where we had lived as children, and then on Monday I had a complete change of activity when my friend Gill from Cambridge came to Ipswich and we spent the day sitting in restaurants and catching up. By the time I returned on Tuesday I was very tired - talking, remembering and reminiscing is hard work! and slept most of the train journey home. N was there to meet me at the Gare du Nord, all the nicer as I hadn't expected him, and being driven back to Saint-Denis reminded me of when I used to come and visit, before I lived here.
We had originally planned to drive back to Normandy the next day, as we seem to have been away for so long, but accepted an invitation for Saturday (tomorrow) for a musical afternoon at Livilliers, where we went on a similar occasion in January last year, where together with two violinists and his cellist friend Jean) N will play a Beethoven quartet. So this means I have had another few days catching up here again this week; without the cinema and the hairdresser this time, but I did go to the chorale yesterday evening. We spent most of the time - very enjoyably - on the Fauré Requiem again, plus two other shorter Renaissance pieces. No news whatsoever of a performance date; the chef says the next concert will be all Renaissance pieces (including some from last year, which we all know, even me!) and it will take place when we are ready. No mention of when the Fauré performance might be. I gave Marie-Christine my e-mail address and asked her to let me know if and when there is any news of a date; she said if we had any new music she would scan it and send it to me; we shall see!
The most important happening while I was away was the arrival in the post of the corrected proofs of the Lexique (Dictionary of French/English property terms.) N had checked them and found about a dozen mistakes; I spent all Wednesday afternoon reading through and found about 30 or 40. As before, he didn't know whether to be pleased or sorry. I even found errors in his list of corrections. At least I feel I am earning my share of the royalties (if any) and the right to have my name on the cover, even if it was spelt wrongly twice! What's more, he had made an appointment for us to go and see the publishers and take them the corrected proofs in person, at 10.00 this morning. As I have never had An Appointment with My Publisher before, I found it all extremely interesting.
The office/shop was in Montparnasse, and deals only in dictionaries; professional and trade guides and dictionaries as well as all the most usual and the most obscure combinations of language dictionaries you could think of - apparently the latest is Serbo-Greek. We squashed into a very small office, three of us at one desk, and N went though the errors one by one with his contact Marie - including a large missing letter « I » from the front cover, spotted by me - and she seemed to think it would all be straightforward. It reminded me of the more exciting parts of my work in the office in Cambridge; editing and proof-reading the office newsletter over and over again until it was perfect, and of the exam papers which were stamped "Approved for Print". (In French: "Bon à Tirer".) I even briefly found myself wondering if I could get a job there, until I remembered the very long dull metro journey from Saint-Denis to Montparnasse, not to mention the fact that I live in Normandy.
It seemed a long time since N and I had been into Paris together, and when we came out of the office at 10.30 we wondered what to do next. We visited the nearby Maine-Montparnasse shopping centre where I used to go often when I lived here in 1973 and it was newly opened, but it didn't seem as comprehensive as the Forum des Halles, so we didn't stay long. My main requirement was a new shopping trolley and I remembered seeing a large selection at BHV and managed to get one in the sale, a little stronger than before, I hope.
N's main shopping requirements were a guide book and street map of Milan from FNAC, as while I had been away in Ipswich he had booked us a three-day trip there for the end of March. He also needed large rolls of strong sellotape for mending sheet music - it has all now been labelled together with the rest of his books, but much of it was falling apart. We had lunch at Tarte Julie at the Forum des Halles on the way back, a lovely little restaurant which, as the name might suggest, specialises in serving sweet and savoury tarts. Once we got back to Saint-Denis station I went on to Carrefour to try out my new shopping trolley; even though we are leaving tomorrow we shall go straight from Livilliers to Normandy as it is on the way and we need to take a contribution to eat, like last time. When I got back I found N playing some of his newly strengthened piano music; he said he had been playing Greig, and Greig had won.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Tuesday 23 January 2007
When we arrived at Saint-Denis last Tuesday we called in first at the Renault garage to see about a navigation disc for Germany - the car had been equipped with navigation for France, but anything else had to be ordered separately. N asked about one for the UK too, while we were there, and it threw them into quite a stir; apparently nobody had ever asked for such a thing before; one or two people had needed them for Spain and Portugal but that was all. And they say the British are insular! Fortunately he was able to go back and collect them from the garage on Thursday, the day before we left.
As usual these days, since no longer having the lock-up garage opposite, we try to drive into the Ursulines, unload the luggage at the foot of our staircase, and then N drives the car back to the municipal car park while I turn on the heating, sort things out, put the kettle on etc. Driving into the Ursulines isn't always easy; if we're lucky the huge doors are open; otherwise they need dragging open while the car is parked in the road, or waiting to get in while several irate pedestrians mutter on the pavement. We never know quite what's going to happen.
Once in and settled, I discovered from the free local paper waiting in the letter box that on the afternoon of December 26 when I came back before going off on Eurostar the next day and was trying hard to get warm, somebody was knifed to death in the next street! Not a mugging, but a settling of scores, the article said.
On Wednesday I went shopping in Paris, looked at sales and bought presents from Lafayette Gourmet to take on my visits. N had by this time caught my cough and cold, and was busy administering himself with remedies and tissues. On Thursday evening I was able to go to the Chorale for the first time in many months; from his gesture I think the chef thought it was rather too long a break, but I was kissed warmly by several members who seemed pleased to see me, including the concierge! Marie-Christine came in late and slipped in beside me; still acting like the bad girl of the class, and making me think of George Sand in her convent. We spent most of the rehearsal working on Fauré's Requiem, which I had sung some years ago and liked, then started on a motet by Palestrina. M-C didn't know when the concert would be, so I was glad (as Parry says) that I should be able to go again in a fortnight, and if there's no fixed date then, perhaps ask her to let me know. As I left a little old lady called Simone said to me "So how long are we going to keep you this time then?"
The next morning we set off on our Winterreise, in rather grey weather, taking the same route out of Paris as last year when we used to go to the dentist at Nogent-sur-Marne, and then on towards Rheims which we had visited together about five years ago. As we got nearer to the Belgian border the landscape became greyer and starker, and we decided we should stop for lunch as soon as saw somewhere possible. This turned out to be an imposing venue called the Hotel de l'Europe at Sedan, very near the border - we tried to remember anything we knew about Sedan and decided there was a link with Napoleon, but couldn't remember what it was. The lunch - in an almost deserted dining room - was excellent; home-made rillettes (soft pork pâté), mousse made with several kinds of fish and served with soft vegetables and cream sauce, and crème brulée. Excellent chilled rosé for me, and unfortunately only water for N.
Crossing the frontiers between the various countries was merely a matter of driving past a blue sign with the name of the country; in some cases there were empty customs buildings and even defunct Bureaux de Change; three cheers for a united Europe! Because N had chosen not to buy the expensive navigation disc for the Benelux countries the map on the car screen just petered out into a black hole, and we followed maps and signs. We saw a lot of storm damage from the previous day; tall trees snapped in two, branches across roads and evidence of trees cut where they had fallen and blocked traffic. There were several flooded rivers too, high on their banks with trees growing out of the water. Our first destination was the City of Luxembourg, of which N had happy memories as a teenager, and where we stopped for a late afternoon walk. I am not usually in the habit of buying English newspapers while abroad, but stopped to get a Daily Telegraph full of photos of accidents and damage in Britain. This also enabled me to hear spoken Luxembourgeois for the first time in the newspaper shop!
It was indeed a beautiful city, and quite unlike anything I had ever seen before, full of elegant stuccoed buildings in pale yellow, pink, cream and white, and a deep gorge full of beautiful trees at the bottom of which was a tiny river. We visited the cathedral, mostly dating from the late 1930's, and I tried to grasp the entire history of the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg in a few minutes, from a poster on the cathedral wall. Driving out of the other side of the city at about five o'clock, we made slow progress passing through an avenue of large office blocks just as the workers were leaving, and noticed the Clearstream Building. This is a familiar name to anyone who has been watching French TV news recently; a scandal of rigged bank accounts involving several government ministers has taken its name - like Watergate - from the building where the scandal originated, the Clearstream Building in Luxembourg, and this was it! I realised I had seen nothing of the only other Luxembourg connection I knew anything about - Radio Luxembourg - and N said this was further out of the city, and we soon saw tall red and white masts, with a very small building underneath.
We drove on to Echternach, on the far side of Luxembourg, where N had booked our hotel for the night. Having found the town, we could not see the hotel where it was supposed to be near the station, and I was sent out into the pedestrian area to make enquiries. I happened upon the only local inhabitant who did not speak French! but she directed me to a man with some connection to the hotel (we saw him there later) and he explained how to drive round to the front.
It was a pleasant little hotel, almost empty, full of elegant Christmas decorations and narrow and tall with lots of tiring stairs. (N was feeling feeble because of his cold, and I am always nervous of steep spiral staircases when wearing long a coat and carrying heavy bags!) We went for a walk round the town; all shops shut by that time, but were able to note the mixture of different French and German languages, cultures and even religions, from what we could see. We saw the very important monastery which N had visited before, and which made me think of the Ursulines.
Because of our very copious lunch at Sedan we were unable to summon up much appetite for dinner, and explained this to the waiter; French speaking but obviously not his native language. In the end we both ordered fish, sole for me and trout for N, with a whole bottle of wonderful Luxembourgeois Riesling, quite the best wine we tasted during the whole journey.
After a solitary breakfast the next morning, we set off for Germany; if the weather had been better it would have been tempting to investigate the town, but as it was grey and raining it seemed best to leave. This was the first time I had visited Germany for about 25 years, and I was intrigued to see things I remembered; shops, signs, buildings and those little fences on the edges of roofs to stop the snow sliding off too quickly. We stopped mid-morning at a little town called Stromberg and had a walk round looking at houses, shops and the market and calling in for Kaffee und Küchen (coffee & cake, one of my favourite German institutions!) served in the local bread and cake shop. I thought about the boulangerie in La Neuve-Lyre, and wondered how they all were, and how it would be if they had tables for serving cake and coffee there. N queued for some time in the post office for stamps, and after he had written and posted his cards we set off again.
At lunch time we stopped in a little town called Bingen - once the heavy rain had stopped and we had admired a beautiful rainbow - and realized when we saw posters that this was the home of Hildegard of Bingen. At a little supermarket we stocked up on N's favourite German Ritter chocolate (lately unavailable in France) and I found hair colouring a third of the price of that in Carrefour! We had lunch in a spacious comfortable bistro, and set off for Erbach, the little town on the Rhine where Erika's party was to be held, and where we had a room reserved in a hotel five minutes down the street.
It took some time to find, as the car navigation had trouble distinguishing Eltville-Erbach from Erbach (as did we) but after asking and following signs we came upon the hotel in a very English-looking road with large house and trees and a church. (I saw many things in Germany which made me think more of England than France, including houses with gardens and also bicycles.) The hotel, as we read later in the literature provided, had been built after the French Revolution in the style of a French country house by an ancestor of the present owner, why in a suburban street in Germany, it was not clear. We saw no other guests at all - as in the Luxembourg hotel, January was obviously not a busy month - and it was a little like staying in someone's - rather grand - house, especially the next morning when our "host" asked if we had slept well and insisted on carrying our bags to the car.
We had time for a little rest before the party which began at 6.00, in a wine establishment - tasting, restaurant, shop - a few minutes down the road. All the guests were milling about drinking glasses of wine before sitting down to dinner at about 7.00; Erika found us and kindly introduced us to some English-speaking friends, with whom we had several conversations about Cambridge, Italy, Normandy and also Lewis Carroll, the subject of someone's PhD! Most of them were very smooth, elegant upper-class Germans in their fifties and sixties, and I was pleased to note that my pink silky jacket seemed just the right thing to wear - several ladies including Erika, were wearing something similar, often with black, as I was. N had decided to wear his Bavarian jacket, and fortunately sat next to a lady from Bavaria who recognised it.
There was a seating plan with names of guests on differently named tables, rather like a Cambridge college dinner, (Erika had said there would be about a hundred) and once seated we were served some spicy soup and then invited to help ourselves from lavishly laid tables in the next room, to meats, salads, vegetables, pickles, cheeses, fruits and desserts. Unfortunately none of the wine was as good as the Riesling we had drunk in the hotel at Echternach! The main topic of conversation was "So how do you know Erika, then?" and I was pleased to say that each time I explained that for several years running she had stayed with me in my house in Cambridge, the response was always the same: "She was so happy there, I remember her saying how much she enjoyed it."
There were the inevitable speeches, one by Erika's daughter and another by a work colleague, which we found difficult to understand - as they were full of references which went over our heads - and sometimes difficult to hear too, and then "personalised" songs from a trio with guitar and accordion. All of these made everyone - especially Erika - laugh very loudly, so they must have been a success. We decided to leave at about 10.00 as we were tired with all the understanding, plus N's cold and the fact that many of the guests were smoking at table and in some instances into our faces; something we have not been used to lately in France or England. We also wanted to make an early start the next day.
After a wonderful night's sleep - absolutely no sound anywhere in the street or the hotel - breakfast was impressive in a beautifully decorated dining room, where we sat in isolated splendour on a raised dais in front of a window at the far end, and N said it was good to be back on High Table again. (All our German and Luxembourgeois breakfasts were copiously interesting; lots of ham, cheese, eggs, fruit, different kinds of dark bread and preserves, and all the beds, as I remembered from before, were made up with duvets rather than sheets and blankets as in French and English hotels.)
We set off early and drove along the side of the Rhine as far as Koblenz in beautiful sunshine, passing hardly any other traffic, and reflecting that 9.30 on a Sunday morning in January was perhaps a good time for sightseeing in peace and quiet without the crowds. As the river curved round we caught sight of fairy-tale castles in differing states of disrepair perched on the hills and every so often a group of little houses down at ground level. Sometimes we drove past souvenir shops right by the river which made me think of the seaside, until one looked carefully at the Christmas decorations in the windows.
We stopped at Koblenz and got out for a very cold walk; everything was closed in the town, (N said, if you had a café here would you open it today?) but we found one or two souvenir stalls selling postcards by the side of the river. N wanted to see the Deutsche Eck - the German Corner - where the Moselle joins the Rhine in a triangle, and where there is a very large statue of Kaiser Wilhelm II. We had thought we might stop for a drink in Koblenz and then have lunch in Bonn, which was our next destination, but having eventually got back in the car with no drink and very cold, decided to go straight to the hotel in Bonn.
The hotel - previously booked by N over the internet - was called the Hotel Beethoven; there was just one reproduction portrait of him in Reception. The plan had been to visit the house where Beethoven had been born, but N had found out - also by internet - that it was closed to the public between September and April. Fortunately the Hotel Beethoven had a restaurant so we were able to go straight down and have lunch, without having to go out and look for anywhere. I was doing quite well - if slowly - with understanding the menu, when the waitress told me that what I had just understood and chosen was Off, and suggested we had Salmon Florentine, which was very good indeed. It came with compulsory soup and dessert but warmed us up wonderfully.
After a little rest we set off for a walk around Bonn, thinking that at least we could look at the outside of Beethoven's house, but found the street closed by police; we assumed some kind of storm damage. We did find however that the hotel was right next to the Opera House, and that The Marriage of Figaro was playing that night at 6.00 and the Box Office opened at 5.00. We continued our walk round the centre of Bonn, a nice little old town, and called in at an organ concert in the cathedral where all the seats were already taken, and later found that Beethoven's street was by then accessible, so looked in the windows of his house. It all reminded me of walking round Lille with Madeleine last winter; a northern town in the cold weather on a Sunday afternoon with all the shops shut, and more and more people coming out just to walk round and look at each other and sit in coffee houses.
We went back to the Opera House at 5.00, and while N queued for tickets I stood and read a poster which told me amongst other things that this was the first night of The Marriage of Figaro, and sure enough it was completely booked up, which was a pity as apart from anything else I thought we would have been able to nip back to the hotel and change into the clothes we had worn for the party the previous night. (Once when we were in Rome, we ended up going to the opera in our sightseeing clothes, which wasn't right at all.)
Amazingly however, we managed to get two tickets which had been returned, by which time it was too late to go back and change, but at least we were more respectably dressed than in Rome! This was just as well, as the Bonn opera-goers were extremely formally dressed, even more so than at the Bastille in Paris. We both agreed they we just the same sort of people we had met at the party the night before.
The production was very good, apart from some overdone unrehearsed curtain calls which seemed to go on for ever. The singing was excellent, and the costumes and sets an interesting mixture of ancient and modern; I liked Susannah's T-shirt which had Figaro written across the front, and the way the gardener used his rake as a rock guitar. Understanding the more complicated parts was linguistically challenging; darting between the Italian singing and the German surtitles. We had ice creams during the interval, while surveying the audience, quite enough after our large late lunch. It was all over by 9.30; very civilised.
After breakfast at the Hotel Beethoven, overlooking the Rhine and watching people going to work in the early light on bicycles and trams, we set off early on Monday morning for Cologne; not far away. Our main aims here were the Cathedral and the 4711 shop in order to buy Eau de Cologne, and I thought from what N had said that it would be a very brief visit, but we managed to find time to have hot chocolate and cake in another very stylish bistro, as N said, not so much because we needed it but more for the cultural experience.
Cologne cathedral was a very cultural experience; I don't think I have ever seen a cathedral so big and black and forbidding and ornate. As N had remembered, it was right next to the station, which was undergoing a complete rebuilding programme, so it was hard work getting in and out of the underground car park. The 4711 shop also took some finding but was worth it, and we both enjoyed buying gifts to take back to female relations.
Towards the end of the morning we drove on to Aachen (or Aix-La-Chapelle), where N wanted to show me Charlemagne's chapel, the centre of the Holy Roman Empire. Built in the year 800, this was indeed impressive; all the more as the marble for the mosaics had been purloined from Ravenna Cathedral in Italy, which we had visited together on an extremely hot day a few years ago. This must have been an amazing task at that time - what if there weren't enough pieces of the right colours, did somebody have to nip back and get them?? We were lucky to find a guided tour just starting and so were able to see some of Charlemagne's treasure including his throne, but not everything N had seen when he was there before. Our guide mentioned the Basilica of Saint-Denis, but spoke very quickly so we missed the significance of this.
After a quick walk round town - by this time unsure exactly which town we were in or what day it was - we had an unmemorable late lunch in a nearby bistro called Maus am Dom (the cathedral mouse) and set off back to Paris via several motorways, and stopping to reinsert the car navigation disc for France. The car radio was full of the news of the death of Abbé Pierre, the French hero, and of severe weather warnings for the next day. Unusually, we had seen no snow whatsoever during our entire trip; although we saw several pine forests and little steep-roofed houses which looked as though they should have been covered in a sprinkling of snow. We made two stops at service stations for tea and dinner, and driving in the dark via Mons and the Somme, arrived home just after 9.30 pm.
When we arrived at Saint-Denis last Tuesday we called in first at the Renault garage to see about a navigation disc for Germany - the car had been equipped with navigation for France, but anything else had to be ordered separately. N asked about one for the UK too, while we were there, and it threw them into quite a stir; apparently nobody had ever asked for such a thing before; one or two people had needed them for Spain and Portugal but that was all. And they say the British are insular! Fortunately he was able to go back and collect them from the garage on Thursday, the day before we left.
As usual these days, since no longer having the lock-up garage opposite, we try to drive into the Ursulines, unload the luggage at the foot of our staircase, and then N drives the car back to the municipal car park while I turn on the heating, sort things out, put the kettle on etc. Driving into the Ursulines isn't always easy; if we're lucky the huge doors are open; otherwise they need dragging open while the car is parked in the road, or waiting to get in while several irate pedestrians mutter on the pavement. We never know quite what's going to happen.
Once in and settled, I discovered from the free local paper waiting in the letter box that on the afternoon of December 26 when I came back before going off on Eurostar the next day and was trying hard to get warm, somebody was knifed to death in the next street! Not a mugging, but a settling of scores, the article said.
On Wednesday I went shopping in Paris, looked at sales and bought presents from Lafayette Gourmet to take on my visits. N had by this time caught my cough and cold, and was busy administering himself with remedies and tissues. On Thursday evening I was able to go to the Chorale for the first time in many months; from his gesture I think the chef thought it was rather too long a break, but I was kissed warmly by several members who seemed pleased to see me, including the concierge! Marie-Christine came in late and slipped in beside me; still acting like the bad girl of the class, and making me think of George Sand in her convent. We spent most of the rehearsal working on Fauré's Requiem, which I had sung some years ago and liked, then started on a motet by Palestrina. M-C didn't know when the concert would be, so I was glad (as Parry says) that I should be able to go again in a fortnight, and if there's no fixed date then, perhaps ask her to let me know. As I left a little old lady called Simone said to me "So how long are we going to keep you this time then?"
The next morning we set off on our Winterreise, in rather grey weather, taking the same route out of Paris as last year when we used to go to the dentist at Nogent-sur-Marne, and then on towards Rheims which we had visited together about five years ago. As we got nearer to the Belgian border the landscape became greyer and starker, and we decided we should stop for lunch as soon as saw somewhere possible. This turned out to be an imposing venue called the Hotel de l'Europe at Sedan, very near the border - we tried to remember anything we knew about Sedan and decided there was a link with Napoleon, but couldn't remember what it was. The lunch - in an almost deserted dining room - was excellent; home-made rillettes (soft pork pâté), mousse made with several kinds of fish and served with soft vegetables and cream sauce, and crème brulée. Excellent chilled rosé for me, and unfortunately only water for N.
Crossing the frontiers between the various countries was merely a matter of driving past a blue sign with the name of the country; in some cases there were empty customs buildings and even defunct Bureaux de Change; three cheers for a united Europe! Because N had chosen not to buy the expensive navigation disc for the Benelux countries the map on the car screen just petered out into a black hole, and we followed maps and signs. We saw a lot of storm damage from the previous day; tall trees snapped in two, branches across roads and evidence of trees cut where they had fallen and blocked traffic. There were several flooded rivers too, high on their banks with trees growing out of the water. Our first destination was the City of Luxembourg, of which N had happy memories as a teenager, and where we stopped for a late afternoon walk. I am not usually in the habit of buying English newspapers while abroad, but stopped to get a Daily Telegraph full of photos of accidents and damage in Britain. This also enabled me to hear spoken Luxembourgeois for the first time in the newspaper shop!
It was indeed a beautiful city, and quite unlike anything I had ever seen before, full of elegant stuccoed buildings in pale yellow, pink, cream and white, and a deep gorge full of beautiful trees at the bottom of which was a tiny river. We visited the cathedral, mostly dating from the late 1930's, and I tried to grasp the entire history of the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg in a few minutes, from a poster on the cathedral wall. Driving out of the other side of the city at about five o'clock, we made slow progress passing through an avenue of large office blocks just as the workers were leaving, and noticed the Clearstream Building. This is a familiar name to anyone who has been watching French TV news recently; a scandal of rigged bank accounts involving several government ministers has taken its name - like Watergate - from the building where the scandal originated, the Clearstream Building in Luxembourg, and this was it! I realised I had seen nothing of the only other Luxembourg connection I knew anything about - Radio Luxembourg - and N said this was further out of the city, and we soon saw tall red and white masts, with a very small building underneath.
We drove on to Echternach, on the far side of Luxembourg, where N had booked our hotel for the night. Having found the town, we could not see the hotel where it was supposed to be near the station, and I was sent out into the pedestrian area to make enquiries. I happened upon the only local inhabitant who did not speak French! but she directed me to a man with some connection to the hotel (we saw him there later) and he explained how to drive round to the front.
It was a pleasant little hotel, almost empty, full of elegant Christmas decorations and narrow and tall with lots of tiring stairs. (N was feeling feeble because of his cold, and I am always nervous of steep spiral staircases when wearing long a coat and carrying heavy bags!) We went for a walk round the town; all shops shut by that time, but were able to note the mixture of different French and German languages, cultures and even religions, from what we could see. We saw the very important monastery which N had visited before, and which made me think of the Ursulines.
Because of our very copious lunch at Sedan we were unable to summon up much appetite for dinner, and explained this to the waiter; French speaking but obviously not his native language. In the end we both ordered fish, sole for me and trout for N, with a whole bottle of wonderful Luxembourgeois Riesling, quite the best wine we tasted during the whole journey.
After a solitary breakfast the next morning, we set off for Germany; if the weather had been better it would have been tempting to investigate the town, but as it was grey and raining it seemed best to leave. This was the first time I had visited Germany for about 25 years, and I was intrigued to see things I remembered; shops, signs, buildings and those little fences on the edges of roofs to stop the snow sliding off too quickly. We stopped mid-morning at a little town called Stromberg and had a walk round looking at houses, shops and the market and calling in for Kaffee und Küchen (coffee & cake, one of my favourite German institutions!) served in the local bread and cake shop. I thought about the boulangerie in La Neuve-Lyre, and wondered how they all were, and how it would be if they had tables for serving cake and coffee there. N queued for some time in the post office for stamps, and after he had written and posted his cards we set off again.
At lunch time we stopped in a little town called Bingen - once the heavy rain had stopped and we had admired a beautiful rainbow - and realized when we saw posters that this was the home of Hildegard of Bingen. At a little supermarket we stocked up on N's favourite German Ritter chocolate (lately unavailable in France) and I found hair colouring a third of the price of that in Carrefour! We had lunch in a spacious comfortable bistro, and set off for Erbach, the little town on the Rhine where Erika's party was to be held, and where we had a room reserved in a hotel five minutes down the street.
It took some time to find, as the car navigation had trouble distinguishing Eltville-Erbach from Erbach (as did we) but after asking and following signs we came upon the hotel in a very English-looking road with large house and trees and a church. (I saw many things in Germany which made me think more of England than France, including houses with gardens and also bicycles.) The hotel, as we read later in the literature provided, had been built after the French Revolution in the style of a French country house by an ancestor of the present owner, why in a suburban street in Germany, it was not clear. We saw no other guests at all - as in the Luxembourg hotel, January was obviously not a busy month - and it was a little like staying in someone's - rather grand - house, especially the next morning when our "host" asked if we had slept well and insisted on carrying our bags to the car.
We had time for a little rest before the party which began at 6.00, in a wine establishment - tasting, restaurant, shop - a few minutes down the road. All the guests were milling about drinking glasses of wine before sitting down to dinner at about 7.00; Erika found us and kindly introduced us to some English-speaking friends, with whom we had several conversations about Cambridge, Italy, Normandy and also Lewis Carroll, the subject of someone's PhD! Most of them were very smooth, elegant upper-class Germans in their fifties and sixties, and I was pleased to note that my pink silky jacket seemed just the right thing to wear - several ladies including Erika, were wearing something similar, often with black, as I was. N had decided to wear his Bavarian jacket, and fortunately sat next to a lady from Bavaria who recognised it.
There was a seating plan with names of guests on differently named tables, rather like a Cambridge college dinner, (Erika had said there would be about a hundred) and once seated we were served some spicy soup and then invited to help ourselves from lavishly laid tables in the next room, to meats, salads, vegetables, pickles, cheeses, fruits and desserts. Unfortunately none of the wine was as good as the Riesling we had drunk in the hotel at Echternach! The main topic of conversation was "So how do you know Erika, then?" and I was pleased to say that each time I explained that for several years running she had stayed with me in my house in Cambridge, the response was always the same: "She was so happy there, I remember her saying how much she enjoyed it."
There were the inevitable speeches, one by Erika's daughter and another by a work colleague, which we found difficult to understand - as they were full of references which went over our heads - and sometimes difficult to hear too, and then "personalised" songs from a trio with guitar and accordion. All of these made everyone - especially Erika - laugh very loudly, so they must have been a success. We decided to leave at about 10.00 as we were tired with all the understanding, plus N's cold and the fact that many of the guests were smoking at table and in some instances into our faces; something we have not been used to lately in France or England. We also wanted to make an early start the next day.
After a wonderful night's sleep - absolutely no sound anywhere in the street or the hotel - breakfast was impressive in a beautifully decorated dining room, where we sat in isolated splendour on a raised dais in front of a window at the far end, and N said it was good to be back on High Table again. (All our German and Luxembourgeois breakfasts were copiously interesting; lots of ham, cheese, eggs, fruit, different kinds of dark bread and preserves, and all the beds, as I remembered from before, were made up with duvets rather than sheets and blankets as in French and English hotels.)
We set off early and drove along the side of the Rhine as far as Koblenz in beautiful sunshine, passing hardly any other traffic, and reflecting that 9.30 on a Sunday morning in January was perhaps a good time for sightseeing in peace and quiet without the crowds. As the river curved round we caught sight of fairy-tale castles in differing states of disrepair perched on the hills and every so often a group of little houses down at ground level. Sometimes we drove past souvenir shops right by the river which made me think of the seaside, until one looked carefully at the Christmas decorations in the windows.
We stopped at Koblenz and got out for a very cold walk; everything was closed in the town, (N said, if you had a café here would you open it today?) but we found one or two souvenir stalls selling postcards by the side of the river. N wanted to see the Deutsche Eck - the German Corner - where the Moselle joins the Rhine in a triangle, and where there is a very large statue of Kaiser Wilhelm II. We had thought we might stop for a drink in Koblenz and then have lunch in Bonn, which was our next destination, but having eventually got back in the car with no drink and very cold, decided to go straight to the hotel in Bonn.
The hotel - previously booked by N over the internet - was called the Hotel Beethoven; there was just one reproduction portrait of him in Reception. The plan had been to visit the house where Beethoven had been born, but N had found out - also by internet - that it was closed to the public between September and April. Fortunately the Hotel Beethoven had a restaurant so we were able to go straight down and have lunch, without having to go out and look for anywhere. I was doing quite well - if slowly - with understanding the menu, when the waitress told me that what I had just understood and chosen was Off, and suggested we had Salmon Florentine, which was very good indeed. It came with compulsory soup and dessert but warmed us up wonderfully.
After a little rest we set off for a walk around Bonn, thinking that at least we could look at the outside of Beethoven's house, but found the street closed by police; we assumed some kind of storm damage. We did find however that the hotel was right next to the Opera House, and that The Marriage of Figaro was playing that night at 6.00 and the Box Office opened at 5.00. We continued our walk round the centre of Bonn, a nice little old town, and called in at an organ concert in the cathedral where all the seats were already taken, and later found that Beethoven's street was by then accessible, so looked in the windows of his house. It all reminded me of walking round Lille with Madeleine last winter; a northern town in the cold weather on a Sunday afternoon with all the shops shut, and more and more people coming out just to walk round and look at each other and sit in coffee houses.
We went back to the Opera House at 5.00, and while N queued for tickets I stood and read a poster which told me amongst other things that this was the first night of The Marriage of Figaro, and sure enough it was completely booked up, which was a pity as apart from anything else I thought we would have been able to nip back to the hotel and change into the clothes we had worn for the party the previous night. (Once when we were in Rome, we ended up going to the opera in our sightseeing clothes, which wasn't right at all.)
Amazingly however, we managed to get two tickets which had been returned, by which time it was too late to go back and change, but at least we were more respectably dressed than in Rome! This was just as well, as the Bonn opera-goers were extremely formally dressed, even more so than at the Bastille in Paris. We both agreed they we just the same sort of people we had met at the party the night before.
The production was very good, apart from some overdone unrehearsed curtain calls which seemed to go on for ever. The singing was excellent, and the costumes and sets an interesting mixture of ancient and modern; I liked Susannah's T-shirt which had Figaro written across the front, and the way the gardener used his rake as a rock guitar. Understanding the more complicated parts was linguistically challenging; darting between the Italian singing and the German surtitles. We had ice creams during the interval, while surveying the audience, quite enough after our large late lunch. It was all over by 9.30; very civilised.
After breakfast at the Hotel Beethoven, overlooking the Rhine and watching people going to work in the early light on bicycles and trams, we set off early on Monday morning for Cologne; not far away. Our main aims here were the Cathedral and the 4711 shop in order to buy Eau de Cologne, and I thought from what N had said that it would be a very brief visit, but we managed to find time to have hot chocolate and cake in another very stylish bistro, as N said, not so much because we needed it but more for the cultural experience.
Cologne cathedral was a very cultural experience; I don't think I have ever seen a cathedral so big and black and forbidding and ornate. As N had remembered, it was right next to the station, which was undergoing a complete rebuilding programme, so it was hard work getting in and out of the underground car park. The 4711 shop also took some finding but was worth it, and we both enjoyed buying gifts to take back to female relations.
Towards the end of the morning we drove on to Aachen (or Aix-La-Chapelle), where N wanted to show me Charlemagne's chapel, the centre of the Holy Roman Empire. Built in the year 800, this was indeed impressive; all the more as the marble for the mosaics had been purloined from Ravenna Cathedral in Italy, which we had visited together on an extremely hot day a few years ago. This must have been an amazing task at that time - what if there weren't enough pieces of the right colours, did somebody have to nip back and get them?? We were lucky to find a guided tour just starting and so were able to see some of Charlemagne's treasure including his throne, but not everything N had seen when he was there before. Our guide mentioned the Basilica of Saint-Denis, but spoke very quickly so we missed the significance of this.
After a quick walk round town - by this time unsure exactly which town we were in or what day it was - we had an unmemorable late lunch in a nearby bistro called Maus am Dom (the cathedral mouse) and set off back to Paris via several motorways, and stopping to reinsert the car navigation disc for France. The car radio was full of the news of the death of Abbé Pierre, the French hero, and of severe weather warnings for the next day. Unusually, we had seen no snow whatsoever during our entire trip; although we saw several pine forests and little steep-roofed houses which looked as though they should have been covered in a sprinkling of snow. We made two stops at service stations for tea and dinner, and driving in the dark via Mons and the Somme, arrived home just after 9.30 pm.
