Friday, April 27, 2007
Saturday 7 April 2007
The first of our three sets of guests - ex neighbours and friends from Ainsworth Street in Cambridge, (and ex-cat Albertine’s new guardians), Zoë, Samin, Ayesha (aged 3) and Tariq (aged 1) arrived on schedule at about 5 pm on Monday afternoon, in such warm sunshine that the little white garden table and chairs had to be got out immediately! Apart from tea, the main requirement was fresh air and playing outside, so the plastic toys which we had found here when we first arrived - and which Charlotte had enjoyed last summer - came in very useful again. We were also pleased to hear that the travel instructions we had sent were very good and easy to follow.
I had made up a little bed for Ayesha in the ironing room, with the small mattress on the floor, and the others slept in the Italian room, Tariq in his travel cot. The children ate early, mostly before the rest of us. I had planned dinners I thought they might like (poule au pot, lasagne, fish pie) and sometimes they ate what was left over for lunch the next day.
We visited Vive le Jardin, spending a long time in the pet department where there were rabbits, fish, gerbils, hamsters and birds, and outdoors exotic chickens, llamas, and goats - we had only ever visited this part once before. Zoë and Samin - keen gardeners - enjoyed the rest of the garden centre, and bought packets of seeds to take home. I was pleased that they were able to see the garden centre cat, an Albertine look-alike; Samin said he wanted her to open her eyes so that he could see just how like Albertine she looked, but she stayed resolutely asleep, having discovered a sofa in the furnishing department - usually she is near the till and the outside door. In the pet - or animal - department, N and I bought some nuts for wild birds, as with the lighter and warmer mornings we have been enjoying watching birds on the balcony outside the bedroom, and thought this might give us - and them - more to look at. Mostly they are being eaten by bluetits, plus the occasional sparrow.
Another day we went to Bricomarché & Intermarché at Conches, the specially enjoyed the supermarket and bought things to take home, including local cider. At Bricomarché N got a piece of plywood cut for the boiler room door; the end of which I had to have resting on the top of my head in the car all the way home.
The highlight of the week was a picnic at our favourite site in the ruined priory at Beaumont le Roger, where we had taken the family last summer. It was windy but fortunately sheltered by the hill, and as before there was plenty of room to run around and play safely. Afterwards we went to the nearby playground again.
Another very important event was the taking of bicycle tyres and inner tubes - very kindly brought by Zoë and Samin from Cambridge in the car - to the bicycle repair shop in the village. I think the bicycle lady was a little surprised at us all arriving in the shop plus bicycle and push-chair, but the children were spellbound by the cage of canaries up on the ceiling, and I explained that the tyres and tubes had been brought from the UK, said I wasn’t in a hurry for the bike, and would call back again after Easter.
On Thursday morning we went to Conches market - only the second time we had ever been there, and there seemed to be a lot more of it than before; either we had arrived later the first time or it was increasing in size with the spring. We walked all round and went to the marvellous fish stall and bought smoked haddock, and olives next door, and found lovely red tulips for three euros on little table that must have just been someone’s garden produce. Zoë wanted cheeses to take back and we had a very nice time at a stall where the proprietress had waved to the children; after having explained which were local Norman cheeses and which would keep well until next week she cut two strips of Emmental and gave them to Ayesha and Tariq who were surprised but pleased!
They left very early on Friday morning; after the sunny weather it was a bit of a shock to be up and out of doors before 8 am for the first time in a few weeks - it was cold and misty. After finally getting them and all their pieces of equipment, picnics and purchases in the car and waving them off, we had a quiet and civilised breakfast, and slowly began a long day clearing up. In fact what had appeared to be two days before the next set of guests was in fact almost four; most of Friday and Monday in addition to Saturday and Sunday.
We decided we had enough time to repair and paint the boiler room door; I began it but N finished it when I ran out of time due to other housekeeping pressures. It was laid out on the terrace, the handle was removed and the new piece of plywood stuck on all round - the main reason for this was the covering up of the dents made by the previous house-owners’ keys digging into it from the outside door. I then laid on and stuck the strips of wood to form the « panels », and painted the undercoat which took some time as the plywood was so thirsty. We were both pleased with the effect - it looks as though it had always been a panelled door! - especially as I had first seen this panelling kit in Castorama several years ago while visiting, had been intrigued by it ever since, and had finally found somewhere it could be used. N then added the top coat, which looked good despite a few flies landing on it, and we hung it back on its hinges, a great improvement. N thinks it should have a third coat, but I can see that might not be for a long time. He has devised a clever block of wood on the floor as door stop, preventing the outside door from swinging back and digging in keys again and making more dents.
Our « weekend off » was also Easter weekend - and somewhat belatedly we realised it was time for a joint of lamb for Sunday lunch, and a treacle tart - special request from N. It was an unusual tart as I ran out of golden syrup half way through and used black treacle instead. The lamb we picked up in Bernay on a visit to the supermarket while stocking up before the next visitors, and having decided it was time to look at other things in the town, an antiques fair in the Abbatiale, an eleventh-century chapel in the centre. It was all extremely interesting to look at, but we didn’t buy anything - mostly very expensive and I kept remembering that on Monday I would have a delivery of family objects from my mother’s house in Felixstowe and would have quite enough to do deciding where these were all to go, without buying anything extra!
Monday 16 April 2007
The next set of guests - my brother Steve and brother-in-law Phil - arrived on Easter Monday late in the afternoon. They too were pleased with our travel instructions, apart from suggesting a couple of minor additions. We were relaxing on our garden chairs when they arrived so we all stayed out in the sun and had tea, Steve already very pleased that the weather was better than during his first visit here last spring.
After tea they began unloading the small cupboard, and other family heirlooms including pictures, a gold framed mirror, china, a framed tapestry and picture, large blue Venetian glass vase and a small straight-backed wooden chair, to name but a few. They also brought a Scrabble set which had originally belonged to my grandparents, and after dinner we opened its box (I hadn’t looked inside when I was packing it up in Felixstowe) and discovered various scores from games played long ago, and a book called « How to Win at Scrabble », and the four of us then played two games. Both N and I were very out of practice (must read the book) so they won one game apiece, using words N found very modern. He had brought both chess and draughts from Saint-Denis, and during the week the three of them played chess several times, some matches lasting long into the night. None of them had played for a long time, and they all enjoyed it. The Scrabble, chess, draughts and my set of French Monopoly now live in the newly-brought cupboard, which lives in the grande pièce just inside the door on the left, behind the dining table. It has a useful drawer where I have put the Best Cutlery (a set by Guy Degrenne, also brought by N from Saint-Denis, last summer.)
The next day the weather was even better, and they helped us get out the long garden table and chairs from their winter quarters in the Box Office, and I fetched the long tablecloth patterned with cherries and we had the first outdoor lunch of the season, about three weeks earlier than last year. Temperatures rose even higher as the week went on and all lunches and teas were taken in the garden. Cooking was a challenge I enjoyed - in addition to a vegetarian diet, Phil was eating no dairy produce or Soya, and so many meals were planned around fruit and veg, pulses, goat’s cheese and green tea, and he brought many food items of his own. Steve slept in the attic guest room (as he been in the Italian room last time) and so Phil was in the Italian room on the first floor, not ideal for a light sleeper. He said did we know what time our rubbish was collected? We didn’t; at a quarter to four in the morning, apparently. He also maintained that the first two notes struck by the local church clock each quarter hour were the same two which begin The Promenade of Mussorgsky’s « Pictures at an Exhibition. » Quite obvious when you know, really!
The afternoon of their first day we left Steve sleeping in the garden and took Phil to the garden centre at Vive le Jardin; as a landscape garden designer he was very interested in all there was to see, as we had suspected. He helped N choose replacement fruit bushes, and me to buy a Venus fly-trap plant. We have a recurrent problem with flies - both alive and dead - in the two sunny front guest rooms, and had begun to consider fly sprays or paper (neither very guest friendly) but a plant seemed like the ideal organic solution. Some cost as much as 56 euros, (and were very large and ugly) but we settled for a small one for 4.95. N also ordered two more water butts, having devised a cunning system to link the two extra to the one between the woodshed and the atelier by means of plastic pipes. I could see this was a good idea in principle - both our existing butts are now empty as it hasn’t rained for weeks, and if we had had this system earlier in the spring we might have still had some rainwater to use. There is also the question of saving money on my large water bill, not to mention « saving the planet », but I wished they could have gone somewhere less obvious.
We asked S & P whether they would like to visit Monet’s house and garden at Giverny; they were both very enthusiastic so we set off there for the day on Wednesday. Much of the journey is the same as our route back to Saint-Denis, and took about an hour and 15 minutes, helped by the satellite navigation, which intrigued our guests. They said on satellite navigation screens in Britain there would never be the blank spaces we see here on our screen in the middle of the countryside, as everywhere there is so much more built up.
N and I had been to Giverny once before about three years ago in September, but it’s definitely a place that needs visiting at different times of the year. We arrived in time for lunch, in the garden of a nearby hotel in lovely sunshine; strange to be eating outside in such temperatures while there were still daffodils in flower. (I thought this in our garden, too.) We all ate very well; Phil was able to have salad and sorbet. While investigating the Ladies Room upstairs afterwards I noted the beautiful staircase, the sort I would have once thought « really French » and realised it was very similar to the wooden staircase here at La Neuve-Lyre.
After lunch we went into Monet’s garden and started looking at the flowers and trees. I was surprised that it all meant so much more to me now I know so much more about flowers and gardens and own such a large and wonderful one! There were swathes of beautifully coloured tulips and pansies, tulips and the last of the daffodils, colourful azaleas and magnolias. We looked at the water garden and the water lily bridge, took lots of photos and then visited the house, which I remembered well from before; Monet’s yellow dining room and blue kitchen, studio with much original furniture, and large bedroom with beautiful views. There was even a black cat on the terrace! (Don’t think she was there last time.)
We went on to visit a museum of paintings by American artists who had settled at Giverny, where we also had tea and bought postcards, before returning home.
I took S & P to see local shops which included going to collect my bicycle, all ready with newly fitted and pumped up tyres. Later on in the week I went for a short ride as far as the bottle bank (although I could only cope with about half the amount of bottles waiting) and the back via the post office. I posted two packages containing copies of the Lexique to go to our house agent M Urset and also to the Cambridge estate agent who had sold Ainsworth Street for me, asking them to pass on details to any interested colleagues.
We also talked to S & P - and to all our visitors - about the impending French presidential elections, and showed them the posters of all twelve candidates outside our local Mairie, and in front of the Mairie in every commune we visited. Although I was in France during the presidential election in 1974 when Giscard d’Estaing beat Mitterrand, I have been learning even more this time, and observing further differences between French and British elections. Not only are governmental and presidential elections very different, but the fact that French elections are on a Sunday means that the hours for voting are much shorter (as nobody is at work, and can come at any time) everybody votes at the Mairie (no temporary polling stations as in Britain) no posters in the windows of houses (just the standard ones at the Mairie) and fewer local political meetings, but larger rallies and lots and lots of TV coverage, which we have been watching with interest. There was also a TV item asking what English residents in France thought of it all; in most cases not much apparently as very few seemed to understand enough French to follow it, apart from a businessman married to a French woman, and another woman who thought twelve candidates was far too many.
On Thursday Phil & Steve set off for a walk, complete with boots, maps, a picnic and a large-scale local map we lent them. This they enjoyed tremendously; said the map and signposting were much clearer than in Britain, and covered about 10 miles in all, across La Neuve-Lyre, then along the river past La Vieille Lyre as far as Champignolles and back again, their only complaint being that there was no round route so they had to double back the same way, and that there was no café at which to have a break. We were pleased to learn of this extra local attraction, and something else we could suggest to visitors. While they were out we enjoyed catching up at home, and I got a load of washing out on the line, and prepared dinner early.
The three of us had another day out on Friday, when N stayed behind for a day off. After various researches on the Internet, we found trains to and from Rouen from the station at Serquigny, a little town about half an hour’s drive away. It all worked extremely well, apart from the fact that the only trains were at 8.10 (a little early, but presumably for commuters) and at 13.46, too late for lunch in Rouen, and requiring an early snack lunch at home before leaving. There were plenty of trains to choose from for coming home.
I felt I’d had rather a love/hate relationship with Rouen since moving to Normandy; we had hoped at one time that it would be our nearest « big town » and one we could visit often for shopping, culture and so on, but we had found our only trip in the car difficult, and there is no direct train line. On this visit that all began to change however, the first thing was the weather - I had never seen Rouen in warm sunshine before; when we visited in February last year it had snowed and the first time we had stayed there it was in torrential rain.
It was very nice to arrive by train - the most brilliantly coloured and designed modern train I had ever seen anywhere - and walk down the main street (called la rue Jeanne d’Arc - what else?) from the imposing station building, comparable with those of Lille and Milan, I thought. It was a lot less far to the cathedral and the Horloge (large old clock) district than it seemed from the map. We stopped in the cathedral square for a drink (in a café surrounded by English people) and then took some time visiting the cathedral; I seem to have visited a large number of cathedrals over the last year, and thought of Milan, Worcester, Barcelona, Aix la Chapelle and Cologne, to name but a few.
I left them to look at the Jeanne d’Arc Square and the old market and went off to do some shopping; after spending a few a weeks in LNL and away from Paris there were several cosmetics which needed replacing. I remembered a small Printemps store from our last visit when we were trying to buy lighting, but also found branches of all my favourite French chain stores, and managed to visit just a few of them. When we met up again we sat for a time having drinks and sandwiches in another café in a side street, listening to a couple of very good street musicians and just watching the world go by. I enjoyed looking at what the women were wearing, something else there is only limited scope for in LNL. And over the last few days everybody had got out their summer clothes; me included.
On Saturday morning the water butts were delivered and installed as promised, except that the lids had been forgotten; these were promised for Sunday evening when apparently the driver had a dinner date in LNL. After a lazy morning we went to Bernay for supermarket shopping, S & P spent a long time choosing things to take home and looking at others. We just stocked up on basics which were running out; it seemed too early to begin thinking about food for guests due to arrive on Wednesday morning. We did choose some nice smoked haddock for Steve however, who had been impressed by the fish market in Rouen, and Phil made himself a goat’s cheese omelette for dinner, and we all shared vegetables.
They took themselves out for a last short walk on Sunday morning, only a couple of hours in the opposite direction, down the hill and left instead of right. (where apparently there are some very good blackberry bushes…) We had a lovely long last lunch in the garden, before they left at about 4.00 in the afternoon, our regular Sunday reading, still « The Diary of a Nobody » working just as well out of doors as in front of the fire, and it was good to share it with them.
We were quite sorry to see them go, as we had got used to having them around in the house and garden. In the evening we kept the woodshed door open, listening for the delivery of the water butt lids, which eventually arrived at about 7.30. I asked the driver if many householders had this many, and he said no, we were definitely the water butt champions in our area. On Monday morning - apart from a great deal of washing of tablecloths, napkins, towels and bedding - I caught up with my exercise DVD and colouring my hair, both of which had been put off while we were so busy. I had been hoping to visit L’Aigle market on Tuesday, but realised there was just not going to be enough time, by the time I had hoovered, changed beds and we had gone back to the supermarket for more supplies. N said later he thought that adjacent groups of visitors with only two or three days between them was too much; I was used to changes of guests in less than 48 hours at Ainsworth Street, but have to admit that everything is on a larger scale here; more beds, more house to hoover and tidy, supermarket further away, and so on. But I do so enjoy entertaining people here!
The first of our three sets of guests - ex neighbours and friends from Ainsworth Street in Cambridge, (and ex-cat Albertine’s new guardians), Zoë, Samin, Ayesha (aged 3) and Tariq (aged 1) arrived on schedule at about 5 pm on Monday afternoon, in such warm sunshine that the little white garden table and chairs had to be got out immediately! Apart from tea, the main requirement was fresh air and playing outside, so the plastic toys which we had found here when we first arrived - and which Charlotte had enjoyed last summer - came in very useful again. We were also pleased to hear that the travel instructions we had sent were very good and easy to follow.
I had made up a little bed for Ayesha in the ironing room, with the small mattress on the floor, and the others slept in the Italian room, Tariq in his travel cot. The children ate early, mostly before the rest of us. I had planned dinners I thought they might like (poule au pot, lasagne, fish pie) and sometimes they ate what was left over for lunch the next day.
We visited Vive le Jardin, spending a long time in the pet department where there were rabbits, fish, gerbils, hamsters and birds, and outdoors exotic chickens, llamas, and goats - we had only ever visited this part once before. Zoë and Samin - keen gardeners - enjoyed the rest of the garden centre, and bought packets of seeds to take home. I was pleased that they were able to see the garden centre cat, an Albertine look-alike; Samin said he wanted her to open her eyes so that he could see just how like Albertine she looked, but she stayed resolutely asleep, having discovered a sofa in the furnishing department - usually she is near the till and the outside door. In the pet - or animal - department, N and I bought some nuts for wild birds, as with the lighter and warmer mornings we have been enjoying watching birds on the balcony outside the bedroom, and thought this might give us - and them - more to look at. Mostly they are being eaten by bluetits, plus the occasional sparrow.
Another day we went to Bricomarché & Intermarché at Conches, the specially enjoyed the supermarket and bought things to take home, including local cider. At Bricomarché N got a piece of plywood cut for the boiler room door; the end of which I had to have resting on the top of my head in the car all the way home.
The highlight of the week was a picnic at our favourite site in the ruined priory at Beaumont le Roger, where we had taken the family last summer. It was windy but fortunately sheltered by the hill, and as before there was plenty of room to run around and play safely. Afterwards we went to the nearby playground again.
Another very important event was the taking of bicycle tyres and inner tubes - very kindly brought by Zoë and Samin from Cambridge in the car - to the bicycle repair shop in the village. I think the bicycle lady was a little surprised at us all arriving in the shop plus bicycle and push-chair, but the children were spellbound by the cage of canaries up on the ceiling, and I explained that the tyres and tubes had been brought from the UK, said I wasn’t in a hurry for the bike, and would call back again after Easter.
On Thursday morning we went to Conches market - only the second time we had ever been there, and there seemed to be a lot more of it than before; either we had arrived later the first time or it was increasing in size with the spring. We walked all round and went to the marvellous fish stall and bought smoked haddock, and olives next door, and found lovely red tulips for three euros on little table that must have just been someone’s garden produce. Zoë wanted cheeses to take back and we had a very nice time at a stall where the proprietress had waved to the children; after having explained which were local Norman cheeses and which would keep well until next week she cut two strips of Emmental and gave them to Ayesha and Tariq who were surprised but pleased!
They left very early on Friday morning; after the sunny weather it was a bit of a shock to be up and out of doors before 8 am for the first time in a few weeks - it was cold and misty. After finally getting them and all their pieces of equipment, picnics and purchases in the car and waving them off, we had a quiet and civilised breakfast, and slowly began a long day clearing up. In fact what had appeared to be two days before the next set of guests was in fact almost four; most of Friday and Monday in addition to Saturday and Sunday.
We decided we had enough time to repair and paint the boiler room door; I began it but N finished it when I ran out of time due to other housekeeping pressures. It was laid out on the terrace, the handle was removed and the new piece of plywood stuck on all round - the main reason for this was the covering up of the dents made by the previous house-owners’ keys digging into it from the outside door. I then laid on and stuck the strips of wood to form the « panels », and painted the undercoat which took some time as the plywood was so thirsty. We were both pleased with the effect - it looks as though it had always been a panelled door! - especially as I had first seen this panelling kit in Castorama several years ago while visiting, had been intrigued by it ever since, and had finally found somewhere it could be used. N then added the top coat, which looked good despite a few flies landing on it, and we hung it back on its hinges, a great improvement. N thinks it should have a third coat, but I can see that might not be for a long time. He has devised a clever block of wood on the floor as door stop, preventing the outside door from swinging back and digging in keys again and making more dents.
Our « weekend off » was also Easter weekend - and somewhat belatedly we realised it was time for a joint of lamb for Sunday lunch, and a treacle tart - special request from N. It was an unusual tart as I ran out of golden syrup half way through and used black treacle instead. The lamb we picked up in Bernay on a visit to the supermarket while stocking up before the next visitors, and having decided it was time to look at other things in the town, an antiques fair in the Abbatiale, an eleventh-century chapel in the centre. It was all extremely interesting to look at, but we didn’t buy anything - mostly very expensive and I kept remembering that on Monday I would have a delivery of family objects from my mother’s house in Felixstowe and would have quite enough to do deciding where these were all to go, without buying anything extra!
Monday 16 April 2007
The next set of guests - my brother Steve and brother-in-law Phil - arrived on Easter Monday late in the afternoon. They too were pleased with our travel instructions, apart from suggesting a couple of minor additions. We were relaxing on our garden chairs when they arrived so we all stayed out in the sun and had tea, Steve already very pleased that the weather was better than during his first visit here last spring.
After tea they began unloading the small cupboard, and other family heirlooms including pictures, a gold framed mirror, china, a framed tapestry and picture, large blue Venetian glass vase and a small straight-backed wooden chair, to name but a few. They also brought a Scrabble set which had originally belonged to my grandparents, and after dinner we opened its box (I hadn’t looked inside when I was packing it up in Felixstowe) and discovered various scores from games played long ago, and a book called « How to Win at Scrabble », and the four of us then played two games. Both N and I were very out of practice (must read the book) so they won one game apiece, using words N found very modern. He had brought both chess and draughts from Saint-Denis, and during the week the three of them played chess several times, some matches lasting long into the night. None of them had played for a long time, and they all enjoyed it. The Scrabble, chess, draughts and my set of French Monopoly now live in the newly-brought cupboard, which lives in the grande pièce just inside the door on the left, behind the dining table. It has a useful drawer where I have put the Best Cutlery (a set by Guy Degrenne, also brought by N from Saint-Denis, last summer.)
The next day the weather was even better, and they helped us get out the long garden table and chairs from their winter quarters in the Box Office, and I fetched the long tablecloth patterned with cherries and we had the first outdoor lunch of the season, about three weeks earlier than last year. Temperatures rose even higher as the week went on and all lunches and teas were taken in the garden. Cooking was a challenge I enjoyed - in addition to a vegetarian diet, Phil was eating no dairy produce or Soya, and so many meals were planned around fruit and veg, pulses, goat’s cheese and green tea, and he brought many food items of his own. Steve slept in the attic guest room (as he been in the Italian room last time) and so Phil was in the Italian room on the first floor, not ideal for a light sleeper. He said did we know what time our rubbish was collected? We didn’t; at a quarter to four in the morning, apparently. He also maintained that the first two notes struck by the local church clock each quarter hour were the same two which begin The Promenade of Mussorgsky’s « Pictures at an Exhibition. » Quite obvious when you know, really!
The afternoon of their first day we left Steve sleeping in the garden and took Phil to the garden centre at Vive le Jardin; as a landscape garden designer he was very interested in all there was to see, as we had suspected. He helped N choose replacement fruit bushes, and me to buy a Venus fly-trap plant. We have a recurrent problem with flies - both alive and dead - in the two sunny front guest rooms, and had begun to consider fly sprays or paper (neither very guest friendly) but a plant seemed like the ideal organic solution. Some cost as much as 56 euros, (and were very large and ugly) but we settled for a small one for 4.95. N also ordered two more water butts, having devised a cunning system to link the two extra to the one between the woodshed and the atelier by means of plastic pipes. I could see this was a good idea in principle - both our existing butts are now empty as it hasn’t rained for weeks, and if we had had this system earlier in the spring we might have still had some rainwater to use. There is also the question of saving money on my large water bill, not to mention « saving the planet », but I wished they could have gone somewhere less obvious.
We asked S & P whether they would like to visit Monet’s house and garden at Giverny; they were both very enthusiastic so we set off there for the day on Wednesday. Much of the journey is the same as our route back to Saint-Denis, and took about an hour and 15 minutes, helped by the satellite navigation, which intrigued our guests. They said on satellite navigation screens in Britain there would never be the blank spaces we see here on our screen in the middle of the countryside, as everywhere there is so much more built up.
N and I had been to Giverny once before about three years ago in September, but it’s definitely a place that needs visiting at different times of the year. We arrived in time for lunch, in the garden of a nearby hotel in lovely sunshine; strange to be eating outside in such temperatures while there were still daffodils in flower. (I thought this in our garden, too.) We all ate very well; Phil was able to have salad and sorbet. While investigating the Ladies Room upstairs afterwards I noted the beautiful staircase, the sort I would have once thought « really French » and realised it was very similar to the wooden staircase here at La Neuve-Lyre.
After lunch we went into Monet’s garden and started looking at the flowers and trees. I was surprised that it all meant so much more to me now I know so much more about flowers and gardens and own such a large and wonderful one! There were swathes of beautifully coloured tulips and pansies, tulips and the last of the daffodils, colourful azaleas and magnolias. We looked at the water garden and the water lily bridge, took lots of photos and then visited the house, which I remembered well from before; Monet’s yellow dining room and blue kitchen, studio with much original furniture, and large bedroom with beautiful views. There was even a black cat on the terrace! (Don’t think she was there last time.)
We went on to visit a museum of paintings by American artists who had settled at Giverny, where we also had tea and bought postcards, before returning home.
I took S & P to see local shops which included going to collect my bicycle, all ready with newly fitted and pumped up tyres. Later on in the week I went for a short ride as far as the bottle bank (although I could only cope with about half the amount of bottles waiting) and the back via the post office. I posted two packages containing copies of the Lexique to go to our house agent M Urset and also to the Cambridge estate agent who had sold Ainsworth Street for me, asking them to pass on details to any interested colleagues.
We also talked to S & P - and to all our visitors - about the impending French presidential elections, and showed them the posters of all twelve candidates outside our local Mairie, and in front of the Mairie in every commune we visited. Although I was in France during the presidential election in 1974 when Giscard d’Estaing beat Mitterrand, I have been learning even more this time, and observing further differences between French and British elections. Not only are governmental and presidential elections very different, but the fact that French elections are on a Sunday means that the hours for voting are much shorter (as nobody is at work, and can come at any time) everybody votes at the Mairie (no temporary polling stations as in Britain) no posters in the windows of houses (just the standard ones at the Mairie) and fewer local political meetings, but larger rallies and lots and lots of TV coverage, which we have been watching with interest. There was also a TV item asking what English residents in France thought of it all; in most cases not much apparently as very few seemed to understand enough French to follow it, apart from a businessman married to a French woman, and another woman who thought twelve candidates was far too many.
On Thursday Phil & Steve set off for a walk, complete with boots, maps, a picnic and a large-scale local map we lent them. This they enjoyed tremendously; said the map and signposting were much clearer than in Britain, and covered about 10 miles in all, across La Neuve-Lyre, then along the river past La Vieille Lyre as far as Champignolles and back again, their only complaint being that there was no round route so they had to double back the same way, and that there was no café at which to have a break. We were pleased to learn of this extra local attraction, and something else we could suggest to visitors. While they were out we enjoyed catching up at home, and I got a load of washing out on the line, and prepared dinner early.
The three of us had another day out on Friday, when N stayed behind for a day off. After various researches on the Internet, we found trains to and from Rouen from the station at Serquigny, a little town about half an hour’s drive away. It all worked extremely well, apart from the fact that the only trains were at 8.10 (a little early, but presumably for commuters) and at 13.46, too late for lunch in Rouen, and requiring an early snack lunch at home before leaving. There were plenty of trains to choose from for coming home.
I felt I’d had rather a love/hate relationship with Rouen since moving to Normandy; we had hoped at one time that it would be our nearest « big town » and one we could visit often for shopping, culture and so on, but we had found our only trip in the car difficult, and there is no direct train line. On this visit that all began to change however, the first thing was the weather - I had never seen Rouen in warm sunshine before; when we visited in February last year it had snowed and the first time we had stayed there it was in torrential rain.
It was very nice to arrive by train - the most brilliantly coloured and designed modern train I had ever seen anywhere - and walk down the main street (called la rue Jeanne d’Arc - what else?) from the imposing station building, comparable with those of Lille and Milan, I thought. It was a lot less far to the cathedral and the Horloge (large old clock) district than it seemed from the map. We stopped in the cathedral square for a drink (in a café surrounded by English people) and then took some time visiting the cathedral; I seem to have visited a large number of cathedrals over the last year, and thought of Milan, Worcester, Barcelona, Aix la Chapelle and Cologne, to name but a few.
I left them to look at the Jeanne d’Arc Square and the old market and went off to do some shopping; after spending a few a weeks in LNL and away from Paris there were several cosmetics which needed replacing. I remembered a small Printemps store from our last visit when we were trying to buy lighting, but also found branches of all my favourite French chain stores, and managed to visit just a few of them. When we met up again we sat for a time having drinks and sandwiches in another café in a side street, listening to a couple of very good street musicians and just watching the world go by. I enjoyed looking at what the women were wearing, something else there is only limited scope for in LNL. And over the last few days everybody had got out their summer clothes; me included.
On Saturday morning the water butts were delivered and installed as promised, except that the lids had been forgotten; these were promised for Sunday evening when apparently the driver had a dinner date in LNL. After a lazy morning we went to Bernay for supermarket shopping, S & P spent a long time choosing things to take home and looking at others. We just stocked up on basics which were running out; it seemed too early to begin thinking about food for guests due to arrive on Wednesday morning. We did choose some nice smoked haddock for Steve however, who had been impressed by the fish market in Rouen, and Phil made himself a goat’s cheese omelette for dinner, and we all shared vegetables.
They took themselves out for a last short walk on Sunday morning, only a couple of hours in the opposite direction, down the hill and left instead of right. (where apparently there are some very good blackberry bushes…) We had a lovely long last lunch in the garden, before they left at about 4.00 in the afternoon, our regular Sunday reading, still « The Diary of a Nobody » working just as well out of doors as in front of the fire, and it was good to share it with them.
We were quite sorry to see them go, as we had got used to having them around in the house and garden. In the evening we kept the woodshed door open, listening for the delivery of the water butt lids, which eventually arrived at about 7.30. I asked the driver if many householders had this many, and he said no, we were definitely the water butt champions in our area. On Monday morning - apart from a great deal of washing of tablecloths, napkins, towels and bedding - I caught up with my exercise DVD and colouring my hair, both of which had been put off while we were so busy. I had been hoping to visit L’Aigle market on Tuesday, but realised there was just not going to be enough time, by the time I had hoovered, changed beds and we had gone back to the supermarket for more supplies. N said later he thought that adjacent groups of visitors with only two or three days between them was too much; I was used to changes of guests in less than 48 hours at Ainsworth Street, but have to admit that everything is on a larger scale here; more beds, more house to hoover and tidy, supermarket further away, and so on. But I do so enjoy entertaining people here!
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 7:15 AM 
