Showing posts with label Basque beret. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Basque beret. Show all posts

Friday 12 August 2016

234. Back in town..

31st August. "It gets earlier every year" Dept! This morning, I received an email from a Christmas card company showing their latest offerings. A card showing Santa's sleigh swirling on high through the wintry streets (right) caught my eye. Can the first sighting of an Easter Egg be far behind?

I can't believe that both July and August have flown by so quickly. It was near the end of June (but it seems like only yesterday) that I said to Madame that the summer season was about to kick off here with the great annual influx of visitors. With all the uncertainties of foreign travel, I think we saw more visitors from elsewhere in France than ever before here. Still, September is the best month to visit the Pays Basque in my opinion. The great wave of summer visitors (plus kids!) have returned home and now it's the "silver tourists" who remain. The temperature will settle down at a comfortable 25°C, the skies will be blue and parking will once again be possible in Biarritz and Saint-Jean-de-Luz and elsewhere along the coast.

28th August. It must be at least a week (!) since I've posted anything of Mark Knopfler's - so here's one of his timeless tracks:

Madame came out with another one of her colourful expressions a day or two ago: ménager la chèvre et le chou.. Strictly speaking, the literal word-for-word meaning is "to arrange (or satisfy) the goat and the cabbage"! But the expression really means "to have it both ways", "to keep a foot in both camps" or "to try and please everyone"..

Then there's vouloir le beurre et l'argent du beurre - this literally means "wanting the butter and the money of the butter". Or as we'd say in English: wanting to have your cake and eat it too.

There are many of these expressions that stem from France's rich agricultural heritage. I'll try and remember to include some more.

Then there are odd ones such as "beau comme un camion".. which means "beautiful as a truck/lorry". Or, more usually: "you're looking good!".

26th August. We're off out this evening to try and find a bar on a beach somewhere where we can drink something exotic and watch the sun go down. Surprisingly, there aren't as many as you might think - and those that we know of, switch to serving more profitable meals in the evenings.

25th August. Give your French a work-out with this documentary (below) about the French holiday routes of the middle decades of the 20th century over which a number of nostalgia addicts (code for obsessives!) re-enact the summer treks to the south (including "retro-camping") in a variety of period vehicles. They even go as far as re-creating traffic jams - complete with a François Hollande lookalike acting as a fake gendarme! (at 1:20:40). You couldn't make some of this up. Health Warning: Their re-enactment strays into retro-kitsch at times as these dotty collectors proudly show off their 'vintage collectibles' - such as formica guitars with built-in clocks! Think of it this way: for every obsessive living the 60s dream out on the road in his rare caravan, another hospital bed is freed up! (I'm joking - it's all harmless fun..)

The French revolutionised camping in the 1950s and '60s when they pioneered lightweight aluminium-framed tents with zip fasteners, mini Campingaz Bleuet stoves, lightweight camping chairs and set up fully-equipped campsites (with hot showers, shops & entertainment). The tent we had at home in the early 60s was supported by sturdy wooden poles and it was made out of heavy duty canvas that was designed to ward off everything a British summer could throw at it - whereas the French equivalents were made out of modern lightweight waterproof fabrics designed to keep out nothing more threatening than a stray mosquito. 

My father had a Primus paraffin stove (left) and I remember it always being a struggle to light the blessèd thing - especially on a windy evening. A ring of methylated spirits had to be lit to pre-heat the jet out of which the pressurised paraffin spray would emerge. Occasionally it would light like a military jet afterburner which always amused us children! Keeping it lit was another challenge - if it went out on your watch, it was a good time to hide! The Campingaz stoves (right) were a revelation as well.. the starting ritual was simple: turn on the gas, light it and start cooking.

Don't worry if you struggle to keep up with the French - just enjoy the scenery.. 
 

23rd August. I was out at the décheterie (tip) earlier this afternoon and it was h-o-t.. the car thermometer was indicating 39½°C..(had to convert this one: 103°F)

The summer is passing by too quickly. I can't believe we're already in the last week of August. We had some visitors last week and after we'd taken them on a lightning 1½ day tour of some of our favourite Pays Basque hotspots (Saint-Jean-de-Luz, Ascain, Sare, Ainhoa, Dantcharia, Saint-Etienne-de-Baïgorry, Bayonne, Biarritz), we finished up in a gift shop in the beautiful border village of Ainhoa. There was a stack of berets there and, as no-one was looking, I tried one on. Miraculously it fit - so, after almost 10 years here, I finally bit the bullet! I now find myself the proud owner of a beret Basque. They come with quite a large overhang thus allowing for some individual styling. All that remains now is to mould it into a suitable shape (right) for my 100% Anglo-Saxon (with perhaps a dash of Viking!*) head. I'm slowly being transformed into an alien..! I also recently had to exchange my UK driving licence for a French one. I was surprised to see that it doesn't entitle me to stop anywhere and have an al fresco pee..(another avenue of pleasure closed off!☺)

* with apologies to Anthony Aloysius St John Hancock! (watch from 2:30)

I found this well-written article about the Pays Basque in the NY Times.. The author manages to say in one column what I've been struggling to say in 7 years! Worth a read. There's a slideshow as well (just give it a moment or two to load).

We were having lunch on our terrace the other day when there was a dull thud from above, followed by the sound of something plummeting down through the hortensias (hydrangeas in English). Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of something small as it shot by to land on the gravel path. My curiosity aroused, I got up to see what it was. Lying on the path, beak down with its backside in the air, was a young sparrow that must have knocked itself out by flying into an upstairs window. To my surprise, it was still alive so I picked it up and took it back to the table. It was its lucky day because it just appeared to be stunned.. After a minute or two, it hopped onto my finger and after a few more minutes, it flew off.

The following day, I found another less fortunate young sparrow lying feet up on the terrace. It was absolutely unmarked and it too had probably flown into a window but sadly it must have broken its neck as it was stone dead.

14th August. We were down at the beach at Anglet (below) early this morning for a good walk before it became too crowded - but it wasn't quite early enough as this weekend is probably the peak of the tourist season. Joggers were out en masse - and I saw one t-shirt slogan that I thought contained much truth: "The real workout starts when you want to stop"..


Today's forecast is for 34°.. Ouf!
  
13th August. What a great row by the British Men's VIII in Rio this afternoon.. fantastic performance..! It's the first time they've beaten the Germans in 2016 - so what a time to pounce! 

8th August. We're back home after a few days away in central and eastern France. It was really to escape the noise, crowds and bustle of the Fêtes de Bayonne but it was also a welcome break and change of air. This time, it was just the two of us - our little feller was greatly missed. 

We'd booked "demi-pension" at a number of country hotels (in the Logis group) choosing ones wherever possible that had "3 cocottes" (this is the highest ranking for food for Logis hotels). Our first night was in the Auvergne, followed by a few nights in Burgundy before finishing up in the Haut-Jura,  One hotel in particular excelled itself in the food department - and instead of offering us the standard set menu for those staying on demi-pension terms, they generously allowed us choose anything from their 27€, 37€ and 51€ menus.. We had no trouble sleeping while we were there..! That's all I'm saying..!

Route Nationale 7
At one stage during our peregrinations across central France near Moulins, we found ourselves on the legendary Route Nationale 7 (known as the RN7 or the N7), an old-style national trunk road that linked Paris with the Côte Azur before the advent of the autoroutes around 40 years ago. After WWII, the French economy - and car ownership - boomed ("Les trente glorieuses") and thus the stage was set for the N7 to become Europe's most dangerous road. For many, August was the traditional holiday month and the capital would rapidly empty during the first weekend as people in their thousands flooded out on to the roads, with the majority heading south on the N7. There were songs written about it, its dangers were discussed endlessly, there were colossal tailbacks, and accidents were frequent and violent.. It was soon became known as the "Road of Death". In short, during the hot summer months, it was a nightmare.

In the late sixties I remember driving from the south of France north up to Paris via the N7. It was totally uncompromising and unimaginably busy and it required all my concentration. My abiding memory of it is that there were a total of 3 lanes - one going north, one going south and one in the middle. This third lane could be used for overtaking by motorists heading in either direction! (Pause while you absorb the significance of that one!) Yes, the dreaded suicide lane.

 There are many similarities with the fabled Route 66 in the US that once was the main artery from Chicago to Los Angeles but which also went into decline when it was superseded by the US interstates. Roadside communities failed and became ghost towns. Nowadays, it's become fashionable for tourists to rent Harleys to ride on Route 66 to see the America of the early part of the 20th century.

Something similar happened here with the N7. Eerie is perhaps the wrong word for it but there was definitely a brooding sense of being in the presence of living history when I found myself alone on this broad ribbon of shimmering tarmac, lined with flaking restaurants, boarded up hotels and deserted cafés. This once-mighty highway unrolled before me in a arrow-straight line to a vanishing point that lay on the southern horizon. And the rear view mirror showed the same scene in reverse.

There were many independent garages (advertising bodywork repairs!) and large restaurants - the majority closed down - every few kilometres. The roadside restaurants and cafés were clearly once oases for the hungry traveller and his family - and each of them came complete with vast car parks that could easily swallow a few hundred cars - but which are now simply dustblown.

A nostalgic view of the N7 here - with a couple of very collectable cars in there.. like the Morgan 4/4 and the TR3. This video repeats at around 1:50..



Question du jour.. What on earth are the curly-wurly shaped "things" that are given out to each medal-winning athlete in the Rio Olympics? Each time there's a presentation, it appears that they continue to intrigue each recipient.. I wonder how many will end up on top of the nearest wardrobe once back home?   

Friday 27 January 2012

175. Is this the end for the Basque beret?

27th January 2011. For countless generations, the humble beret symbolised France. Worn by young and old, town and country, it defined a country in a way that no other item of clothing had ever done before. Count the berets being worn at this Basque wedding at Saint-Jean-de-Luz in 1942..

It appears though that its days might be numbered. Béatex, the last French manufacturer of the beret, has gone into receivership. Béatex, based in Oloron-Sainte-Marie, has been making berets since 1840 but it's believed that low cost competition from abroad, coupled with some internal issues, is to blame for its demise. (Edited to add in 2019: If I've understood the situation correctly, Béatex has been taken over by Maison Laulhère)

Berets are still a familiar sight here in Bayonne and elsewhere in the Pays Basque. Practical and convenient, they protect the wearer from the sun in summer and the rain in winter, plus they can be worn in any number of different ways according to the owner's taste. It has to be said though that most beret wearers are likely to be of the older generation. Modern youth in France (and the rest of the world) have abandoned the ubiquitous beret and has taken to the 'cool' baseball cap in droves - but is the baseball cap as lucky as a beret..? See below!
I've mentioned the Basque beret before here.. with a video that explains how they are made - the process is far more involved than you may have thought.

Saturday, 28th January 2012. A chilly morning down at the river today.. ~4-5°C. The club took delivery of an almost new carbon fibre VIII a few weeks ago and this morning we put a crew of mecs together to give it a blast up the river. It was cold in the shadows as we headed off upstream but soon after the first bend, we emerged into the sunshine. The welcome warmth of the low morning sun felt good, and it turned the mist rising off the cold waters of the Nive into golden steam. The new boat was a pleasure to row - extremely rigid and well-balanced as well as being light. It responded well and we gradually warmed up as we surged up-river. This morning it was no hardship to continue to the footbridge near Villefranque which is normally the furthest we row (9km from the clubhouse) and we reached it in fine style doing intervals of hard and light rowing. When we stopped to turn around, I felt fully warmed up - apart from my fingertips. Coming back, I noticed an ominously heavy bank of dark cloud approaching from the west (over the Bay of Biscay) and it was a race to see if we could manage to escape yet another soaking.. Alas, with 5 minutes to go, the rain started and steadily increased in pressure until by the time we returned to the pontoon, we were thoroughly soaked.. A good sortie though.. 18km.

1st February 2012. I had a quick dash over the border yesterday for some much-needed supplies - diesel and other sundries. The price of diesel has been bouncing around lately but yesterday in Spain it was 1.29€/litre (=£1.07/litre or US$6.35/US gallon). They also had an offer I couldn't refuse on litre bottles of 12 year old Glenlivet. Today looks like being the start of a very cold few days down here in the Pays Basque. The forecast is for +5 this morning dropping to -6 (21°F) this afternoon - which puts us colder than Saskatoon (-2) in mid-Canada! And there's the possibility of some snow on the ground tomorrow. We've hardly seen any snow here since we moved here in September 2007. I think one year we had an inch or two but it had gone for the most part by lunchtime. Went into town to buy a baguette and I got one straight from the oven.. kept my hands warm all the way home!

4th February 2012. Another cold morning here (minus something - I think about -3) but decided to go down to the river all the same. The usual suspects all turned up but le responsable decreed that it was too cold to row (my hard nosed rowing master at school would have thrown a major wobbly at this!☺) and so a few of us hit the rowing machines to try and warm up. We did an hour of varied pace rowing which finally did involve an element of sweatification.. but I've never been able to approach rowing on these Concept 2 machines with the same sense of enjoyment as jumping in a boat. Tonight we're all meeting up in a bar in town for an apéro or several. Took the dog out for a walk and even he was glad to return home.

Tipi tapa
5th February 2012. Enjoyable evening out for an apéro with the rowing club last night.. once we'd found the place! The venue was called 'Tipi tapa' and I knew within 50m where it was.. The problem was that it didn't have a sign and I was looking for a bar. So after exploring all the likely locations in Bayonne - on a bitterly cold night - and across the Nive in Petit Bayonne, we returned to the starting point at the end of the Rue d'Espagne when there was a familiar cry from on high.. One of the responsables was standing up on the ramparts shouting to us.. The location was in a group of old casemates set into the ramparts. My glasses immediately steamed up the moment we stepped inside - there was a crush of people but I managed to catch the eye of one of our mecs behind the bar and a couple of glasses of wine were passed over the heads of a packed room to us. All the old faces were in there and as I said to one of the nénettes I didn't recognise her with her clothes on! And once I'd heard the final score from Murrayfield, there was all the more reason to celebrate!

There's a nature reserve that's just a 5-10 minute walk from the centre of Bayonne that we've been meaning to visit for a while.. Yet another item on our list of things to do! All it involves is a short walk* out of town along the banks of the Nive and then cross via the footbridge to the northern bank and voilà! You've just arrived at La Plaine d'Ansot..

9th February 2012. According to the news yesterday, we're experiencing the lowest February temperatures on the Côte Basque since 1956. It was -8°C overnight here - and it feels much colder, perhaps due to the humidity.

12th February 2012. The Big Freeze continues. I took El Poocho into town this morning to the bakers and while it was dazzlingly bright with blue skies all around, it was also very cold - as in -1°C. (Cries of "You call that cold?" from Winnipeg) I'll ignore that! There were very few people out and about.

Monday 13 June 2011

150. River bank tales 2

11th June 2011. We went to Biarritz this evening to see a new film just out - "Midnight in Paris", written and directed by Woody Allen. Regular readers of this blog (yes, both of you!) might remember I'm a Woody fan and although he doesn't appear in the film you can hear his unmistakeable views of life, death, love, sex and marriage through one of the actors. Something of a fairy tale - without giving the plot away - it's a charming film set in one of the world's most photogenic cities. Carla Bruni (or Madame Sarkozy - take your pick!) does well in her cameo role. I think it's his best film for a good few years. Well worth putting your knitting down for one night and getting your fancy duds on for a night at the cinema!
13th June 2011.  I went down to the club late yesterday morning to lend a hand with the organisation of the "3 Rivières" event. We were going to drive the rowers (well over a hundred of them) up the Adour to Peyrehorade (try saying that while eating a Cornish pasty!) where the boats lay after Saturday's epic row on the Gave. But before that, however, there was the small question of lunch. We were all to have lunch in the brasserie (on the first floor above the club - more here). 

I squeezed into a gap on a very convivial table and I had to remind myself that once they'd finished their 3 course lunch everyone (apart from your correspondent) would soon be facing a 35km row (almost 22 miles). I think it's fair to say that, in the UK, sandwiches would have been the order of the day. Things are done differently in France however. Come what may, whatever else happens, France stops three times a day for meals. Lunch is sacrosanct. Sandwiches? Ah beh non! The main course was a delicious tagliatelle with chicken and mushrooms. Naturally, wine was served and so I, as a non-rower, had a couple of glasses. Towards the end of lunch, the word went around that a girl in one of the crews was suffering badly with blisters and I was surprised to see some idiot put his hand up to offer to take her place. Unfortunately that idiot turned out to be me! Yet again, I missed another golden opportunity to keep my mouth shut! I shot off home and quickly changed into my rowing kit before dashing back in time to leave for Peyrehorade. All the way there I was asking myself why I hadn't chosen to remain silent.. aaargghh! As it happened, once we arrived at the start, the girl in question had decided to carry on - so I was let off the hook. Phew! 

There was just the one smallish pontoon and somehow we had to get about 30 IVs down the narrow sloping ramp one at a time and into the water and away. I was there to see the last couple of IVs in the water before jumping in a small speedboat to act as security in case of problems.

Bec du Gave
Once we left the relatively narrow waters of the Gave, we joined the mighty Adour at the Bec du Gave (left). I would think that the Adour is not so well known back home, but, believe me, it makes any river in the UK look like a mere stream. The sky had been covered to start with and the air was heavy - not good rowing weather. The sun burnt off the haze and soon we were frying in that small boat as we slowly chuntered along behind the last two IVs. It was around 7.30pm when they finally arrived at the club in Bayonne. For those carrying on into the evening, there was just time for a quick shower and change before going on to a Cidrerie in Petit Bayonne. These evenings can get very lively and the whole weekend becomes a test of endurance - both in and out of the boats! 

For some reason I've been humming this tune (to myself!) for the last few hours without knowing what it was - I do this all the time! Finally, I went downstairs where Madame was slaving away in the front garden now that it's cool. Earlier I'd cut down a vast overgrown nondescript bush that the previous occupant had allowed to run wild and some of the branches had died. Extracting the roots with the aid of a sledge hammer, a pick and a spade in the mid-afternoon heat had just about finished me off so I was indoors cooling off with this tune playing over & over in my head. Once I'd hummed it to her she told me it was "Parlez-moi d'amour" and that it had been in the soundtrack of Woody Allen film we saw the other night (which is where I must have got it from). Anyway, to cut a long story short, and to implant it in your brain, here it is:

14th June 2011. Saw a story on the BBC News page this morning.. is this a blow for the few remaining beret makers in the Pays Basque? A quote from a soldier in the US Army was that it was like wearing a "wet sock" on his head. (we'll just have to take his word for that!) US Army spokesman Colonel Tom Collins told Agence France-Presse: "The beret does not have a visor and doesn't shield the sun, doesn't absorb sweat well." Well, I think the problem is that the military-style beret has lost its roots..

The Basque beret has clearly taken a styling cue from Basque houses as they both sport overhanging roofs to shield those beneath from the worst of the weather. Rain comes in only one size here - a downpour! - and the Basque beret provides a good measure of protection against the rain to the wearer. The Basque beret with its generous overhang also does a good job of providing shade for the eyes. And from what I can see as well, it doesn't appear to fit like a wet sock either! The military beret reflects the military mind - they have to look soldierly and providing the ordinary soldier with a Basque beret would be to invite even more opportunities for the ever-inventive soldiers to mould their berets into shapes that even the manufacturers could not imagine.

Tuesday 22 March 2011

131. The Basque beret

22nd March 2011. Another potent symbol of the Basque identity - perhaps second only to the Basque language - is the Basque beret. Totally different to the snug fitting military berets seen elsewhere, the Basque beret has an 'overhang' all the way around which provides a measure of protection against the sun and the rain - both of which are common in these parts. And for what is a simple item of headgear, it has many ways of being worn:
No two the same..!
Madame has been fighting a losing battle trying to persuade me to have one.. In my opinion, the Basque beret is for Basques - and Basques only. Here's a nice clip that explains much about the Basque beret - who wore them, how they are worn, how they are made etc..

And they get everywhere too - that chap on the right (below) looks like he's wearing one (hold on tight before clicking on the image!):  
This Citroën advert always makes me smile..! But - swipez-moi - is this how we sound to those of the Gallic persuasion?

Down to the river this evening under threatening skies.. there were some very dark clouds over the mountains but I thought we might escape the rain. Went out in a coxless quad sculler (no names, no pack drill!) and we set off. It was also the stroke's first outing in the stroke seat which, in that boat, was the one that coupled up to the rudder for steering. 

We decided it would be a good idea to steer via the oars - using simple commands like "Force Tribord" or "Force Babord" to be called by the person sitting in the bow seat. I won't go into the detail of what happened except to say that the person calling out for more effort on one side or the other did not understand the mechanics of how a boat is steered (despite the three of us explaining how it works in words of one syllable or less) with the result that, due to the wrong call being made, we spent quite a bit of time inspecting various trees and bushes at very close quarters! In fact, we gave up using such esoteric terms as Tribord (starboard) or Babord (port) and reverted to simpler commands like Force Rouge (red being the coloured bands painted on the port riggers) or Force Vert (green for starboard). 

In the end, we even gave that up and just used Force Gauche (left) or Force Droit (right) but amazingly that proved too complicated as well. And while all this was going on, the rain was coming down in sheets. I kept telling myself I was enjoying it! So I think, given that background, we can be proud of the fact that we managed to row 10kms (after a fashion). Running total: 510km.
That whisky and water tasted so good after my shower!