Back from Blighty

I must be getting old. The word 'Blighty' came to mind immediately as I considered a title for this post. Click on it to read Wiki's explanation of its derivation..

In fact we arrived back here last week. I tapped out the gist of this blog on my new Ipod-touch while we were there - I've been longing to get my hands on one for some time and the current exchange rate between the pound and the euro finally tipped the balance. Apple, in their wisdom, have not changed the euro price of them since there were 1.5 euros to the pound and now the two are practically at parity giving a 50 euro saving. Not a great excuse I suppose - I ought to be able to justify it in some other way and I think I can (to myself). Suffice to say here that it's a lot, lot better than sliced bread.

Cultural difference noted on the return journey: Notice in gents toilet at Portsmouth ferry terminal: "Please note. These toilets may be cleaned by male or female cleaners". Equivalent in France - female mopping around your feet while you pee.

'Bt openzone' was active at the motorway service station - free, thanks to 'Roadchef' as a 'special' for their customers. Great! I can blog a bit while drinking my coffee. Not to be - supposed to be free after registering name and email address etc. but I couldn't log in, even after using my father's UK address. It didn't like something. Possibly French email Address?

Sailed from Portsmouth dead on time at 2:30. Perfect April day. Fluffy cumulus stretching out eastwards, gathering into a jumbling roll over the South Downs. At first the Isle of Wight sheltered the ship from the south-westerly swell. After a couple of hours the swell rapidly settled into an almost flat calm. Learned to play Canasta with Liz. Good game, deserves more exposure.

8:30 pm-sunset with an almost full moon over the french coast and a short stub of a rainbow rising out of the razor-edge horizon, somewhere near LeHavre. One hour to go, then the 'Hotel de la Phare' at Ouistreham. We're back on what is now our home soil.

Mapmaker

Fish and Ships

The fishing season started just a week ago, the spring equinox has now occurred in a wash of cloudless blue and yesterday the first house-martins dashed over our house. I was in the river on the first fishing day - actually hooked a fish (which fell off the hook, but no matter).

I share this bit of riverbank with our farmer-neighbour's sheep. The picture was taken this morning - it's 30 metres from our house and garden.

Before we came here, I hadn't attempted to river fish since I was a boy, but with surroundings like this, who could resist. There's even a chance on catching something big enough to make a meal.

It started soon after we arrived here in 2000. My neighbour on the other side of the river loaned me a fly-rod and that was it - I was hooked. Literally, as it happens; fly-casting is something of a skill and an art and hooking oneself was a common experience at first. Now, I manage to catch more fish than clothing but the knack took some time to learn.

I was surprised to find other, obviously skilled, lifelong fishermen in the river on the first day using fly-rods, but we've had very warm weather for a couple of weeks now and there are small flying insects in the air so it was a joy to start swishing the 'canne-à-la-mouche' right from the start. I'll confess that I enjoy this activity far more than using a 'spinner' or other bait methods. It's just somehow more satisfying and even has an aesthetic appeal. Above all, you actually stalk a fish instead of plonking yourself down on a river-bank somewhere, toss in your tackle and hope some fish stumbles across it. Here, we stalk trout and grayling - nyam, nyam.

I'll have to forgo the river for a bit as it's time for our next UK trip. Family to visit- it's been six months since the last. We'll drive to Ouistreham, the port at Caen, Normandy on Tuesday, a seven or eight hour trip. After a night at the port in a small hotel (they actually give us the 4-digit code to open the main door, over the 'phone in case we arrive too late for the staff), then take the 8 am 'Brittany Ferries' boat to Portsmouth. It means six hours on the English Channel but the ships are comfortable, well run and serve good food, so the time passes easily, filled by a leisurely meal and a hundred or so pages of a good book.

I won't mind sampling a plate of English fish-and-chips either for a change.

Mapmaker

Spring Fever

Spring has now sprung - at least for the present. Blue skies, sometime morning light frosts, birds looking at their very best as they continue to eat us out of our stocks of bird-food (mostly large sacks of loose peanuts brought from the UK as this particular bird-feed isn't available here in bulk). Snowdrops have been around for some weeks already and crocuses are in the grass.

We went to the 'Moulin de Lavergne' country-restaurant for last Sunday-lunch; haven't been for ages. Jeff-the-chef produced fantastic cuisine as ever - a four course menu (as usual) for 24 euros of a standard that deserves more recognition. Yet, he's struggling, like many, many enterprises, people are cutting back on inessential spending and, in fact, his business has been falling ever since the 'smoking ban' of over a year ago. He built a small terrace outside last spring, to try to alleviate some of the 'side effects' of this ban (see my blog 'Being one's age' last July) but it wasn't enough. Catch 22 of course - we can't afford to go there more than just once every two or three months, on special social occasions.

This morning, Sunday 1st March it seemed strangely gloomy outside. We haven't seen a cloud for days so we're not used to it. We drove down to Figeac two days ago for a day out under bright, cloudless, cornflower-blue skies, car-windows open to the sparkling air after a light frost at dawn. The drive takes less than two hours and by the time we arrived at Figeac after passing through Saint Céré, over the shimmering hills and woodlands, through Leyme and Lacapelle Marival the temperature had climbed to a warm, breezeless 15 degrees or so. We parked in the Place Vival (50 centimes for 3 hours) and took a table in full sun in front of the Bar Brasserie "La Monnaie', facing across the square to the 'Old Figeac Museum' (Musée de Vieux Figeac). It was time for an 'apero' and after half an hour sipping and sunbathing we took lunch there too (Mussels and chips - Fleur's was 'Mariniére' and mine, 'Espagnol' with chopped chorizo in the sauce). Yum.

This could get boring I know, for readers (are there any?) still under grey skies, and smacks a bit of smug-buggery.

So, au revoir.... suffice to say, Figeac is an amazing little town, on the Lot river, much of very 'Italianate' in character and well worth a detour. For us, it's a short drive from the granite massif's gorges where we live to the soft, limestone start of the midi.

Contrast is everything

Mapmaker

Waiting for the Spring

Its over a fortnight since my last blog but then this is the quiet season - nothing much is happening. We haven't had the really bad weather that occurred recently 'up north' although the frosts persist; its been a bout 6 weeks of icy mornings this year - not usual. I'm burning much more wood than before in an attempt to save on electricity (my other form of heating) and it's working. The problem is, I'll have to find a couple more 'stere' of wood by mid March to see us through.

I have managed to re-arrange my office/studio into something rather more comfortable and un-cluttered during the frosty weather by being ruthless with unsold paintings (they haven't actually been thrown out, rather than stored in Roy's barn) and other accumulated dross (made myself take these items to the tip - a hard thing to do as I'm a hoarder). Still, there is now floor room here and even a bed for visitors...

I've also started another blog ('groan', I hear you say). The link will appear from now on, on the 'Links to try' menu. I decided to ramble about art in a slightly vain way (in both senses perhaps), partly for the reasons given in the subtitle, and partly because I've read that an 'authoritative' blog or website could eventually attract more readers and possible future commercial  art activity for me. We'll see.

The fishing season starts in about three weeks - whoopee! I must dust-off the gear and buy my permit - a harbinger of Spring if ever there was one.

Mapmaker