Showing posts with label Hemingway Ernest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hemingway Ernest. Show all posts

Wednesday 4 July 2018

257. Summer's here.. at last!

31st July. We're back to a steaming Bayonne after escaping the Fetes de Bayonne for a few days. We stayed near Capdenac Gare in the Aveyron - right on the border with the Lot. I'll add some details later but for now here's a short slideshow I put together of some images from our long weekend:
I'd not previously visited this part of France before and so we crammed quite a few kilometres into our three free days there. The village of Conques was first on our list - and while it's fair to say that early ecclesiastical relics are not one of my main interests in life, neither of us were prepared for the astonishing treasures to be found on display there - with some of the pieces dating back to the 8th century.

Conques



























The pride of the collection must surely be this richly bejeweled golden statuary of Saint Foy (below) that dates from the 9th-10th century. The village itself is well worth a visit.
On the Sunday, we visited Villefranche-de-Rouergue and Najac. The cool narrow streets of Villefranche-en-R were almost deserted and it was a pleasure to explore the arcaded passages. In contrast, Najac's market was in full swing and once again, we found a place to retreat to for an excellent light lunch - l'Air du Temps.   

There must have been a Roman influence on road building in this area as many of the D roads were ruler straight. On reaching the brow of a hill, your eye would be taken by the ribbon of the road stretching straight as an arrow to the far distant horizon. You'd see a car beetling along in the shimmering distance and it would take minutes before it would flash by. Even in the height of the summer the roads were pleasantly empty. 

25th July. This song (below) by the Corries reminds me of some of the spectacular mountain scenery we saw in the far north west of Scotland some 3 years ago..
  

Lochcarron
If you haven't visited the far north west of Scotland before, I would urge you to make the trip. 

I took a quick trip to Dancharia (just over the border in Spain) this morning to fill the car up with diesel prior to our break tomorrow - and the signs that the Tour de France is coming here on Saturday 28th July were in evidence. There are some beautiful country roads here and so if you watch the Tour on Saturday, it will give you an idea of the Basque countryside. We regularly drive over these roads and I look forward to seeing the stage on TV. This is also the exact same area that was used by guides of the Comet Line as they helped around 125 Allied aircrew to escape into Spain during WWII.. Story here.    

24th July. Woke up this morning to the sound of rumbling thunder and rain. This is one strange summer.
Figeac
22nd July. The town is girding its loins ready for the annual invasion by over a million visitors to the Fêtes de Bayonne.. We'll be escaping the white-clad hordes - we're heading off to stay near Figeac (above) for a few days.

21st July. I meant to post this earlier but I got sidetracked.. France exploded in an eruption of joy last Sunday when they deservedly beat Croatia to claim the FIFA World Cup for the second time. The result triggered a cacophony of car horns late into the night. France were clearly the team to beat throughout the tournament – and they saw off Argentina, Uruguay and the much-fancied Belgium among others.
England, playing a laboured and predictably uninspired brand of football, somehow stumbled into the semi-finals backed by a jingoistic media at home whipping up popular support. Waist-coated Gareth Southgate fielded a mix of average and very average players and due to a remarkably kind draw progressed further than they could have expected. Reading the UK press though, I did start to wonder if the media hacks had been watching the same games as me. I was happy to see England snatch defeat from the jaws of victory as I don't think I could have stood the sight of them being dismantled and thrashed by Les Bleus in the final. Great credit must go to Didier Deschamps - the captain of France's World Cup winning team in 1998 and now the manager of this great French team - an immense achievement he can be justly proud of.  

13th July. I'm going to spare you further coverage of the last couple of days of the San Fermin Festival.

We went to Saint-Jean-de-Luz yesterday morning as we had a few jobs to do there. First off was picking up a little something for Madame's birthday from Maison Laffargue - one of her favourite shops - and then a replacement glass chimney for a lamp from Quincaillerie Debibie (try saying that while eating a Cornish pasty) that Monsieur Bulldozaire (aka 'Nutty', our cocker spaniel pup) had succeeded in breaking.

Buvette de la Halle
Finally, another quick stop at Ducru here to pick up a pair of salt and pepper mills. We also did some people-watching at the Place Louis XIV over a coffee at our habitual haunt - the Bar de la Marine... endlessly fascinating!

We finished up at the Buvette de la Halle (right).. for grilled sardines and a small pichet of rosé - followed by a delicious home-made crème brûlée each. We've been going there for almost 30 years and it's as good as ever. Tip: Arrive early to ensure a table in the shade. Ignore the comments on Trip Advisor - this is a simple pavement café serving the freshest of seafood, the staff are friendly and very busy serving all the tables. Don't confuse speed with brusqueness.. We've never experienced anything remotely close to the alleged rudeness or brusqueness in almost 30 years. NB No credit cards!

While we still have a minor Russian theme running, here's Jack Teagarden's band with their swing rendition of that old Russian song "Dark Eyes".. As you may have noticed, I never get tired of listening to this particular song - so sit back and pick the bones out of this!
12th July. This made me laugh!

Day 6 and still going strong..

11th July. San Fermin Day 5.. The madness continues.. I think the real enemies of the runners are not the bulls - but other runners.

By the way, I would never wish to be this 'up close and personal' with a bull - let alone two of them.

These bulls mean business..



Brexit update: Last Friday, Theresa May gathered her cabinet together to agree the UK's proposals for defining its future relationship with the EU. The outcome was trumpeted as a triumph for a united cabinet. However, this apparent display of unity was turned on its head 48 hours later by the resignation of David Davis, the Brexit secretary and shortly afterwards by the resignation of Boris Johnson, the Foreign secretary. 3 other pro-Brexit Conservatives have also resigned..

The views of Melanie Phillips are always worth reading and the following is an extract from her analysis:

".. a real leader would have said to the country something like this: “Look, there are going to be hiccups and problems and we may well have to bite on a few painful bullets. But the upside is that, overall, our economic future is very bright indeed if we make the cleanest possible break; and politically, we will once again be independent and in charge of our own laws and destiny. And for that most precious of all gifts we will pay a price if we have to, just as this country has always buckled down and paid a price for liberty – which is really what Britain is fundamentally all about”. 

And to the EU, such a real leader would have said something like this: “The people of Britain have spoken and we are now leaving you. We will not seek a deal; we will take our chances with WTO rules and tariffs because even with all that we’ll still take you to the economic cleaners; but if you would like to offer us a deal, you’ll find our door is always open because we’ll always be your friends. Good bye!”

I would only differ from the above by saying that believing that a 'deal' could be had with the EU is to mistake the exit process for one in which a 'deal' could be made. The EU is a rule-based structure (essential in an organisation of 28 nations) and so the idea that the UK can still benefit from free trade with the EU without complying with the EU's rules (the so-called four freedoms - goods, services, capital & labour) is pie in the sky. It's their way or no way - and it's taken the UK 2 years to realise that - and judging from the ambitious proposals that emerged from Chequers last Friday, the Govt has still to learn that particular lesson. I can guarantee that Michel Barnier will dismiss all the UK's proposals contained in the White Paper when it is presented to them.

The UK should abandon all negotiations and proceed at full speed with all the preparations necessary for a future under WTO rules. I think only then - once the EU realise that the UK is deadly serious about a 'no deal' scenario - that the EU might, might, at the last minute, consider adopting a more pragmatic approach. Can the EU afford to blow off 40bn euros?

10th July. Day 4 at Pamplona - and still no shortage of willing volunteers..! (Introducing half a dozen or so bulls into Christmas shopping crowds might move things along a bit, no?)

9th July. Day 3 of San Fermin - and they're off again!

Russia has been in the news recently (World Cup - there, I've said it!) and I heard a snatch of "Oh fields, my fields" ('Polyushko-polye'), that most evocative of songs, on the radio earlier this morning that stirred memories of the vastness of the steppes. Written I think in the 1930s, it served to stimulate love of Mother Russia during the Great Patriotic War (aka WWII)..
I make no apologies for including one of the world's great anthems - one that's guaranteed to stir the blood of even the 'couchiest' of couch potatoes within earshot - and I speak as someone whose national anthem tends towards the 'dirge' end of the scale! (Tin hat on - awaiting incoming!) Needless to say, my own politics are a million miles away from those associated with this anthem:
Both of my regular readers will be aware that "Dark Eyes" is a favourite of mine. In keeping with the current theme, here's a version in Russian, just for a change..!

8th July. We decided to go to Biarritz with Nutty early this morning while it was still fresh - and while there were still parking spaces available. We had coffee on the terrace of the Bleu Café, a favourite of ours on the Grande Plage.. where we watched the surfers and the endless parade of the 'beautiful people'.. The tourist season is getting up to speed. 
Bleu Café, Biarritz



After that, we took a walk along the sea front and I spotted a new vehicle in town.. It's called a Fat Trot.. and it's a new electric beach scooter that looks like fun for "yoof" and it was developed right here in Biarritz. (a child's scooter in France is known as a trottinette):

They're available to rent/buy - and no licence or helmet is required.

As we left Biarritz, I spotted another new shop out of the corner of my eye - the über cool-looking Deus ex Machina. (they appear to venerate old motorcycles and early Porsche 911s. Gets my vote!). I must have a look another day.  

7th July. Today marks the start of the Festival of San Fermin at Pamplona - made (in)famous a loong time ago by our old friend Ernest Hemingway. He described it vividly in his first novel "The Sun Also Rises". He was a regular visitor to this part of the world throughout his life and its strong identity clearly made a deep impression on him. I wrote up my thoughts on Hemingway - for what they are worth - in an earlier post here.

Each day of San Fermin starts at 8am with the encierro (or the running of the bulls) from the holding pens through the narrow cobbled streets of Pamplona to the arena. The firing of a rocket is the trigger for the release of 6 bulls and 6 steers (who are there simply to guide the bulls). Two and a half minutes of sheer mayhem then ensues as the animals gallop through the white-clad crowds in a headlong dash that finishes at the bullring - where the unfortunate bulls meet their end later in the afternoon. The ancient tradition of running with the bulls is believed to have originated in the 14th century but it has only become an international rite of passage since Hemingway's first novel popularised this traditional festival in 1925.

Feeling brave? Come and join them! Me? I've got a sock drawer to tidy!

Me? I'm on the side of the bulls.

5th July. As the Brexit talks grind on and on, it's becoming increasingly clear that neither side in the negotiations is ready and/or willing to negotiate and so it's likely that we're heading for a Major Kong* moment - ie, leaving the EU with no deal.

* Major Kong (memorably played by Slim Pickens) was the B-52 pilot in Stanley Kubrick's black comedy "Dr Strangelove" (1964) who, with a handful of miles to run to his target, was sitting astride a thermonuclear weapon in the bomb bay of his B-52 carrying out last minute repairs to some fried wiring.. when suddenly the bomb bay doors opened and this unforgettable shot followed! 

4th JulyFirst of all, Happy Fourth of July (whatever else you do, listen to this link!) to Americans everywhere celebrating their National Day.. It's always good to start the day off with goose bumps!
For anyone considering a move to the Pays Basque, I wouldn't pay too much attention to this article. Where to start..? It's full of misconceptions and poor advice - but then, it was co-written by a couple of English estate agents based in Pau. The thing to remember when looking at this area is - that if a particular town or area is seen as expensive or cheap, there's always a reason.
La Grande Plage, Biarritz

In a throw-away line, Biarritz is characterised as "very chic and sometimes a bit snobby..". Maybe because of its high property prices? People can forget that Biarritz is a working town and therefore it's not the kind of place where you should walk back from the beach to your accommodation still in your swimming things and flip-flops, with a wet towel over your shoulder. Snobby? No, far from it.

The idea that you can live at Pau and go to the coast and back for the day throughout the summer is just pie in the sky. Yes, you could do it but would you want to?

And yes, you can find cheaper property inland as long as you'll be content with "sitting outside your new home, glass of local Jurançon wine in hand, and enjoying the great sparkling canopy of stars arching above.” How long would the thrill of that estate agent puffery last? The problem with living inland in a distant village is essentially one of practicality.. Do you want to have to use the car each time you want a baguette, or buy a newspaper, visit the dentist or do whatever sport or social activity you're interested in? And where maybe your new neighbours could be less than thrilled by outsiders moving into "their" village - and perhaps being seen as partly responsible for driving house prices up? 

Finally, I would take the quoted property values per square meter with a very large pinch of salt. The price per sq m for a house in Biarritz is quoted as 4331€. Here are the results of a search I made just now in Biarritz for houses with a surface area of between 140-150 sq m. Using the 4331€ valuation, that should have produced a list of properties with prices ranging from 606,340€ (140 sq m) to 649,650€ (150sq m). The two that come in under budget are wrecks and would need an arm and several legs spent on them. I think the figure for Biarritz should be nearer 7-9000€/sq m..

The Basque coast is expensive for a reason.. There is a quality of life there.. activities, shops and facilities (not least of which are those to do with health!). It's also a destination - somewhere that attracts retirees from France and elsewhere for that last hurrah. Many of the villages inland are moribund.. and we've known quite a few people (French and British alike) who have only realised the sad truth of that after they'd bought a property there. My advice? Think very hard before moving to a village out in the sticks.
  
1st July. I took Nutty for a walk this morning through the peace and quiet of the shady woods that surround Lac de Mouriscot.. which is to be found about 3km to the south of Biarritz.
Lac de Mouriscot
It's the perfect place to avoid the hustle and bustle of the coast, especially during the season. There's a path that circles the lake and I didn't check my watch but I'm guessing that it takes 30-40 minutes to walk around it. (Park at the Auberge de Jeunesse)
Lac Marion
There's another lake hidden away in the suburbs of Biarritz that's also very pleasant to walk around on a hot day - Lac Marion..

Monday 2 April 2018

254. Spring has sprung..

30th April. I've been aware, almost subconsciously, for some time that the most prevalent car colours here differ from those in the UK. When I was out earlier, I looked down a long line of some 30-40 parked cars and noticed that the colour of every last one lay somewhere on the monochrome spectrum between white and black. I'd say that most were various shades of grey.

When we used to come down here on holiday years ago, if we saw a red car coming towards us it could almost be guaranteed that it would be displaying a UK registration. Then when we were in England a couple of years ago, it was noticeable that electric blue was now the "couleur du mois"! (Or as they have it there - the colour of choice). I'm not sure what this proves - if anything. It's just an observation. Now we have "expert colour psychologists" who can decrypt our colour choices.. If you wish to lose the will to live, read this! You've been warned. (I'm not an Express reader by the way.. ☺)

28th April. For 4 years in the mid-1990s, I had the great good fortune to be working in the vicinity of Venice. At least once or twice a month throughout the year, I would manage to find the time to visit this most wonderful of cities, even during the chill month of January, when the bitingly cold wind off the sea had the ability to freeze one's face into a rictus. At times like that, Venice would be almost deserted and, looking out across the misty lagoon, it seemed that all an artist would need to render a faithful image of the view would be a thousand shades of grey. I would walk and walk until I had to seek refuge from the cold in the warmth of a café. There, I'd order a hot chocolate which was almost of a blancmange-like consistency and if it was really cold, I'd have a brandy with it. Once warmed up again, I'd set off once more. The intervals between stops would become shorter and shorter as the cold bit.

At the other extreme lay August. I was there once on 15th August (an Italian holiday) under a burning sun, with humidity to match. Groups of tourists were being marshalled through the narrow streets by guides - each holding a whip aerial with a distinctive object tied to the top of it - a pair of luscious red lips, a toy rabbit, an inflatable duck, the more bizarre the better. These groups of tourists appeared to arrive in waves - and the heat and the humidity combined with the jostling to make for a not very pleasant experience.

I was there with a friend one day during one such occasion and we were walking along the waterfront with its row upon row of gondolas bobbing up and down on the choppy waters. We walked past the Hotel Danieli (highly recommended) and after a few yards, we came across a restaurant that overlooked the lagoon. A card in its window announced a seafood buffet lunch for 55,000 lira.. This worked out to something around £22.. It was "an offer I could not refuse"! One of those lunches that will live long in the memory. Some time later, we emerged blinking into the sunlight and waddled off in the direction of Harry's Bar*.. for one last attitude adjuster before heading back to the train station.

A visit to Venice has to be made at least once in a lifetime. There really is nowhere else quite like it anywhere in the world (including Las Vegas!). And no, in all my visits there I have yet to experience any of the smells that generations of hack writers ascribe to Venice.. (the video is best in full screen)
Seems like we've turned the clock back again.. as we've had rain, rain and more rain. We were out at a dog obedience class this morning - as Nutty's behaviour needs modification. It's almost as if he has a split personality. He's no longer allowed out in the garden unless he's on the lead as he constantly demonstrates destructive tendencies.

This year, our long-suffering lawn was finally looking as it should (especially as it's been well watered these last few months) - but Bulldozaire decided it could be improved with the addition of a large hole scraped in the middle of it. This was just one of his party tricks.. Others include rounding off the corners of a Persian carpet in the study; rounding off the corners of the bedspread; ripping holes in the pillowcases; retrieving savoury & unsavoury items from the laundry basket and chewing them. He seems to have a contrary nature: he will do things as required of him - but only if he wants to. Madame broached the surgical option with me but, as a card carrying male, I'm reluctant to consider that option until we've exhausted all the others. If only I could tell him!             

19th April. Spring came and went in a week.. yesterday we had some of Madame's relatives (from Andernos-les-Bains) for the afternoon. We ate outside and the temperature was a whisker under 30°.. I was down at the beach this morning (yes, in shorts and a t shirt!) with our 4x4 cocker spaniel at 9.30 and it was like summer. Cloudless blue sky, blue sea and white breakers. This weather changes everything. I think I'll be going for a ride on my ebike this evening along the Nive

11th April. "Allez, allez, allez!" (if you have to ask what this refers to, you wouldn't understand!)

4th April. I removed the cover from the table on the terrace yesterday - always a good sign - and we had lunch out there for the first time this year. Think it was about 20° - give or take a degree. It looks like a morning for a ride on my e-bike as well - as the forecast seems to indicate that rain could be on the agenda this afternoon.

The arrival of warmer weather changes everything here - my shorts (!) will soon be making their first public appearance of the year, our plancha (right) will be dragged out and then we tend to live outside until late October/early November (fingers crossed). I'm surprised that the plancha has still to make an impact in the UK as they really do lend themselves to impromptu eating outdoors. I'd've thought they'd be perfect for those unpredictable (polite term!) British summers. From the decision to eat outdoors to starting cooking takes no more than 5 minutes - that's as long as it takes to heat up the cooking surface - plus the cooking surface is far less messy, more versatile and much more convenient than that of a barbeque. They excel at cooking fish for example. Eating food cooked on a plancha is highly enjoyable compared to the forced smile of eating something part-cooked or overcooked (ie, burnt) on a barbeque. Here's someone showing how it's done in the US. There's a business opportunity here for someone.  

Hibiscus
2nd April. We've been busy in the garden tidying things up after the last wet three months. I noticed the wisteria (known as glycine in French - you'd never guess) is out. And after 10 years of effort, the lawn finally looks dense and green (with no burnt patches from you-know-who). The hydrangeas (hortensia in French) are off and running too.. and our small palm tree (left) in the front garden is pushing out these large buds and is poised to sprout its yellow blossom and shower everything with pollen. There's also a couple of hibiscus trees (with 5" trunks) that produce spectacularly blue flowers that have just started to bud. Everywhere we looked today, nature was in motion - at last.

Here's something I caught on the radio earlier today.. It was new to me and it sounded as if it could have been an old Irish air. But - it's called "The Ashokan Farewell" and surprisingly, it was written by Jay Ungar back in 1982. Well done to him! It was also used as the title track to the PBS series "The Civil War" (which I've just started watching.. really excellent so far).

If ever a tune was written for a 5 string banjo and guitar it was this one.. See here

Tuesday 7 June 2016

231. Into summer

1st July. I'm not one of those slightly obsessive fans of all things railway - but I must admit that the "Jacobite" train that runs from Fort William to Mallaig through magnificent mountain and coastal scenery on Scotland's west coast has my full attention! 
The Glenfinnan viaduct (aka the Harry Potter viaduct)

Yes, I know it's not fast but speed isn't everything. It's only a 42 mile trip as well - but what a 42 miles! (it takes just over 2hrs) I've been on much longer train journeys (one in particular lasted 4 days) but there's something about this journey that appeals to me very much. Those Scottish hills are made for steam.. Pity they couldn't find an observation car to hitch on the back.. Or, even better, a US-style "club car" with a rounded end where you could sit and watch the world go by while enjoying a dose of Dr Glenmorangie's finest 12 year old tincture!☺ Watch it in full screen and see what you think:


27th June. I was out and about this morning in Bayonne when I spotted one of these (right). I've been meaning to mention for some time the appearance in Bayonne of some of those exotic-looking modes of transport from Thailand - yes, I'm talking about the Tuk-Tuk.. They look like a nice way for tourists to get about the local area, especially when it's hot. Personally, I wouldn't be seen dead in one! They remind me of those 'trains' that circulate on the roads around resorts, like this!

There's another curious mode of transport (this time for small packages) that's sprung up here - the oddly-named Hemengo Erlea company that runs these pedal-powered delivery vehicles (left)..

Buried by all the EU Referendum froth over the weekend was this stunning performance by England in winning the final Test Match against the Australian Wallabies. A truly thrilling match (highlights here) in which the lead changed hands no fewer than ten times, it was impossible to guess which team would emerge victorious at the final whistle.. Some great rugby was played by both teams and there was an avalanche of tries.. Boring it wasn't. I haven't had time to watch it again but I will be doing so. To win all three matches of a Test Series against Southern Hemisphere opposition in their own backyard was a monumental achievement. Remember, this England side were booted out of their own World Cup (by Wales) only last year. How times have changed.
 
Meanwhile, the seismic aftershocks following the result of the UK's referendum on our continued membership of the EU continue to rumble on. The European media is full of wild speculation and much ill-judged and premature comment from opportunist politicians of all persuasions. I think the wisest course of action would be for everyone to sit on their hands for a while. My view is that the referendum tapped into a long-simmering discontent with the direction that the EU has taken towards a superstate, with the loss of sovereignty implied in that. The unelected cabal of the top echelons of the EU failed to seek popular support from the electorate across Europe for their grandiose ambitions for a monolithic state. I think they seriously misjudged the mood of many. Indeed, over the last weekend, many French friends were supportive of the outcome of the UK referendum and expressed the wish that they too could vote on this issue.

I don't think I need to add this but I will. I love Europe - its cultural riches, its cities, towns, villages and hamlets. I love the fact that in a short journey, you can hear many different languages, experience different styles of cooking and feast your eyes on an ever-changing landscape. In my case, a vote for Brexit was not the vote of a "Little Englander" but rather the vote of someone who believes first and foremost in democracy. Everything else is detail. I seldom agreed with Tony Benn but these words of his should be carved in stone:
“In the course of my life I have developed five little democratic questions. If one meets a powerful person — Adolf Hitler, Joe Stalin or Bill Gates — ask them five questions: ‘What power have you got? Where did you get it from? In whose interests do you exercise it? To whom are you accountable? And how can we get rid of you?’ If you cannot get rid of the people who govern you, you do not live in a democratic system.”
25th June. We had an enjoyable lunch yesterday with fourteen of Madame's painting group at the Hotel/Restaurant du Chêne at Itxassou.. It's well worth a visit if you're ever in the area. It was our first visit in 25 years! (images here) It came as no surprise to me that, as a result of the hot news of the day (the outcome of the UK Referendum), many of the group were curious about my reaction. They seemed fully in sympathy with my view that the EU had outgrown its original remit. In my opinion, the cloistered political classes in Brussels let their ideas run away with them and they embarked down a path in a direction that few wanted, other than themselves. I think the results would be quite instructive if other countries were to ask themselves the same Leave/Remain question. However, I'm not holding my breath. A wise American once said to me: Don't ask the question if you can't stand the answer. I think that applies in this instance.  

24th June. I normally avoid discussing politics here but today is very special.. this song enscapsulates my mood following the UK referendum decision to leave the EU. My view: I love Europe, but I dislike intensely the undemocratic construct the EEC morphed into. The UK almost bankrupted itself during WWII to restore democracy to Europe and yet somehow it managed to sleepwalk into a corrupt political union led by unelected commissars (commissionaires in EU-speak), led by unelected nameless leaders with their own agenda, with a toothless European parliament. It's worth paying any price to free ourselves from this mess to regain control of our own affairs. (I speak as one who is in receipt of a UK pension paid in sterling.)

23rd June. I've mentioned Ernest Hemingway before here - he lived an enviable, though perhaps over-marinaded, life to the full in many exotic locations in those golden years prior to mass tourism - so I was grateful to the BBC for including this short tale from his former cook in Cuba.

22nd June. The forecast for this afternoon is 35°.. so I was up and out early with the pooch this morning while it's still reasonably cool. He's almost 15 and the vet says he has a heart murmur - so the old boy has to be looked after. I gave the garden a good soaking last night and another this morning as I'm trying to keep the lawn green. Probably fighting a losing battle there.

On Friday, we're heading off to the hills for a lunch with Madame's painting group.. They're a lively crowd - so we're looking forward to that.

We had an invite from the people at the bottom of the garden to an "apéro-dinatoire" on Saturday evening. In case you're wondering what an apéro-dinatoire is, it lies somewhere between "come round for a drink" and "come round for dinner".. A few households have got together to invite all the residents of their cul-de-sac and us (who back onto it). We've been asked to bring something sweet or savoury.. I think it's a very sociable idea as it will enable us to meet all those we've been on nodding terms with for a while.

And to round off the weekend, there's a lunch arranged for my choir on Sunday..!

20th June. A change of gear from the rugby.. I was browsing YouTube earlier and I happened upon this sublime piece by Gabriel Fauré.. who wrote it at the age of 19. Listen to it and, if it's new to you, I'd be surprised if it didn't have the same impact on you as it did on me. I also discovered that it's in the repertoire of the choir I sing with.
18th June. This second Test match between Australia and England is one that will go down in the history books.. What a performance by both teams.. For me, Australia came out too hyped up.. but after some initial handbags, it settled down and the Aussies must be wondering what they have to do to score against this magnificent England side. A great team effort and everyone out there played their part. It wasn't pretty but England will take the win and the series.
    
16th June. The latest craze for 2017?

14th June. Here are the highlights of that Springboks Ireland match I promised you.. (haven't seen it myself yet)

11th June. Today saw England play the first of a series of 3 Test matches against the Australian Wallabies - and what an epic encounter it turned out to be..

Ireland played South Africa today but I missed that match. I'll post a video of the game asap.

8th June. The big local news is that by beating Stade Aurillacois 21-16 on Saturday night, Aviron Bayonnais find themselves back in the Top 14, much to the delight of the locals (an especially sweet development since arch local rivals Biarritz are still rooted in Division 2..!)

4th June. This evening we had another pilgrimage to Chez Pantxua, one of our favourite restaurants on the Côte Basque. As always, it was absolutely faultless. (They have a cod omelette as a starter on their menu - mmm!) It's ideally situated (map here) by the sailing centre at Socoa (just across the bay of Saint-Jean-de-Luz) with a large car park nearby. Afterwards, a post-prandial waddle around the harbour is the perfect end to the evening.

3rd June. Two or three little-known factoids for you when it all goes quiet in the snug:

The first motor race to be called a Grand Prix was held at Pau on the street circuit that runs around the town centre. Hard to imagine that those technically advanced cars from the great German teams of the 1930s - Mercedes-Benz and Auto Union - raced around these narrow streets.

Place Royale
I read the other day that Mary Lincoln, the widow of the assassinated US president, moved to Pau in 1876 and lived there for 4 years at two addresses before settling on the Hôtel de la Paix that formerly was situated in the quintessentially French square Place Royale, Pau. The former Hôtel de la Paix has since been converted into apartments (next to Le Majestic restaurant).

Villa Eugénie
And in a similar move, the Empress Eugénie (widow of Napoleon III) moved to England following France's defeat in the Franco-Prussian war in 1870. She lived at Farnborough Hill (now a Catholic Girls School) from 1880 until her death in 1920. She had previously spent her summers at the magnificent Villa Eugénie - now the Hotel du Palais at Biarritz.    

Following a disastrous fire in 1903, the Villa Eugénie was rebuilt and enlarged as we see it today in all its glory.
Hotel du Palais



While we're talking about Pau (which, curiously, is the capital of both Béarn and the Pyrénées-Atlantiques), there's an interesting funicular railway.. Take a ride on it going up.. or going down..

Thursday 19 April 2012

182. Rain-fuelled rant!

18th April 2012. I came across this old map (below) the other day in a document someone sent me. I would say it must date back to pre-war times. What I find interesting about it is the amount of green space that lies between the towns to the west of the RN10 (highlighted in red).
Today, much of that has been built up and driving around the area, I'm constantly reminded of this as developers are steadily building on every available plot. Where vacant plots don't exist, existing buildings and often houses are torn down so that revenue-earning apartment blocks can be erected in their place. Nowadays, the three towns of Biarritz, Anglet and Bayonne that, pre-war, were completely separate are now effectively one and it's now known as the Agglomération Côte Basque-Adour. Try saying that with a mouthful of Gâteau Basque! This is one area of France where there are more buyers than sellers and my guess is that the nationwide drop in house prices that was reported yesterday won't apply here.

We spotted the new Cité de l'Océan (below) the other day when we were down on the sea front at Ilbarritz.. I've always thought that architects here in France are capable of creating the most stunning buildings or structures. They are equally capable of erecting the most monumental eyesores - like the one below.. (is that a building - or the box it came in?)
In the first category I would place buildings such as the dazzling Louvre Pyramid - conceived by I. M. Pei - that has more than a touch of genius to it. In my humble opinion it sits perfectly in front of the Louvre - and it looks as though it's always been there.

Then there's the breathtakingly hypnotic viaduct at Millau - designed by Norman Foster. This most elegant of structures defies the imagination in its extreme simplicity and, on seeing it for the first time, most people are reduced to an awed silence as they goggle at the bridge stepping out across the void with seemingly little to support it. To lend some scale to the picture, some of the support towers are higher than the Eiffel Tower.. Truly stunning.
In the second category are those that (in my view) miss the target completely. Examples? Well, close to home, there's the branch of the Caisse d'Epargne (savings bank) at Bayonne that, if only it was nearer the sea, could be offered to the Navy in times of national need to serve as a submarine pen. Built in the historic quarter of Bayonne, a few paces from the ancient cathedral, it's a deliberate slap in the face of history and without any redeeming qualities at all. Well, maybe one - the roof keeps the employees dry. (Happily, it's been demolished since I wrote the previous paragraph and some apartment blocks are going up in its stead).
Then there's that monument to industrial quantities of reinforced concrete - the Ministry of Finance, Bercy (below) in Paris. Again, brutal, squat and with a brooding mass, it straddles the riverside boulevard and juts out into the river Seine. It could well be George Orwell's Ministry of Truth (from his novel Nineteen Eighty-Four) What on earth were they thinking of..? No question - this has a top 3 place in my list of buildings that would be greatly improved by demolition. 
Then we come to the Pompidou Centre - or, as I like think of it, the Emperor's new clothes writ large in 15,000 tons of steel and 50,000 cubic metres of reinforced concrete. Again - what were they thinking of? There's a kind of intellectual arrogance at work here that says if you dislike the building/structure/oil rig (call it what you will) then you must be a reactionary old f**t.
Then there's the Opera at Bastille.. It looks like nothing less than the headquarters of an insurance company or a nuclear power station. Enough said.
By way of contrast, here's the magnificent Opéra Garnier and I don't think I need to add a single word:
When I look at Paris I see one of the most beautiful cities in the world. We have a duty to pass it on to succeeding generations intact - we don't have the right to vandalise it. What will these excrescences say about us to future generations? 

19th April 2012. I've been re-seeding 'this blessèd plot' (aka the lawn) and so far so good.. green shoots have appeared in all the right places. Fortunately April has brought with it many gentle showers - rather than the torrential downpours that we've often been at the receiving end of. The grass is looking green and hopefully this period of wet weather should ensure (ha-ha!) that the lawn has a fighting chance this year!

Just the other side of the Pyrenees lies the small town of Burguete in Navarre, Spain. It's known by some for one thing: it's where Ernest Hemingway lodged in 1924 & '25 en route to the running of the bulls at Pamplona.

The Basque country (on both sides of the border) would have been vastly different in those days with few concessions to tourism and it must have been a real pleasure to travel around it. While the coast has changed beyond all recognition, the inland regions remain more or less intact as they were - even in the height of summer few of the legions of tourists that throng the coastal resorts explore the hinterland. There, it's not difficult to understand the attraction the country had for the author. Here's an extract from "The Sun Also Rises" that describes the moment Hemingway and his friend arrived in Bayonne.

In the morning it was bright, and they were sprinkling the streets of the town, and we all had breakfast in a café. Bayonne is a nice town. It is like a very clean Spanish town and it is on a big river. Already, so early in the morning, it was very hot on the bridge across the river. We walked out on the bridge and then took a walk through the town.

I was not at all sure Mike's rods would come from Scotland in time, so we hunted a tackle store and finally bought a rod for Bill up-stairs over a drygoods store. The man who sold the tackle was out, and we had to wait for him to come back. Finally he came in, and we bought a pretty good rod cheap, and two landing-nets.

We went out into the street again and took a look at the cathedral. Cohn made some remark about it being a very good example of something or other, I forget what. It seemed like a nice cathedral, nice and dim, like Spanish churches. Then we went up past the old fort and out to the local Syndicat d'Initiative office, where the bus was supposed to start from. There they told us the bus service did not start until the 1st of July. We found out at the tourist office what we ought to pay for a motor-car to Pamplona and hired one at a big garage just around the corner from the Municipal Theatre for four hundred francs. The car was to pick us up at the hotel in forty minutes, and we stopped at the café on the square where we had eaten breakfast, and had a beer. It was hot, but the town had a cool, fresh, early-morning smell and it was pleasant sitting in the café. A breeze started to blow, and you could feel that the air came from the sea. There were pigeons out in the square, and the houses were a yellow, sun-baked color, and I did not want to leave the café. But we had to go to the hotel to get our bags packed and pay the bill. We paid for the beers, we matched and I think Cohn paid, and went up to the hotel. It was only sixteen francs apiece for Bill and me, with ten per cent added for the service, and we had the bags sent down and waited for Robert Cohn. While we were waiting I saw a cockroach on the parquet floor that must have been at least three inches long. I pointed him out to Bill and then put my shoe on him. We agreed he must have just come in from the garden. It was really an awfully clean hotel.

Cohn came down, finally, and we all went out to the car. It was a big, closed car, with a driver in a white duster with blue collar and cuffs, and we had him put the back of the car down. He piled in the bags and we started off up the street and out of the town. We passed some lovely gardens and had a good look back at the town, and then we were out in the country, green and rolling, and the road climbing all the time. We passed lots of Basques with oxen, or cattle, hauling carts along the road, and nice farmhouses, low roofs, and all white-plastered. In the Basque country the land all looks very rich and green and the houses and villages look well-off and clean. Every village had a pelota court and on some of them kids were playing in the hot sun. There were signs on the walls of the churches saying it was forbidden to play pelota against them, and the houses in the villages had red tiled roofs, and then the road turned off and commenced to climb and we were going way up close along a hillside, with a valley below and hills stretched off back toward the sea. You couldn't see the sea. It was too far away. You could see only hills and more hills, and you knew where the sea was.

20th April 2012. I remember reading an old saying amongst carpenters, "Measure twice, cut once.." and for some reason I woke up this morning with it in my head. It struck me that that philosophy could be applied to many areas of life.

Before making the decision to move here from England, for example, I remember making a list of the pros & cons for making the move and another list of all the risks. The first list proved pretty conclusive in terms of whether or not a move was the correct decision. As for the second list, all the risks I identified could be managed - except one: the currency exchange rate. As most of our income was in £ sterling, and we were moving to the euro-zone, this had my full attention. I thought the worst that could happen would be that the £ would gradually decline in value against the euro over the years. We were prepared for that eventuality and so we moved across.

Soon after we moved however, the exchange rate turned out to be the very risk that bit us and it bit us hard. In Britain, Gordon Brown (an unelected nobody who was doing Prime Minister impressions at the time) let the pound slump in value - an unprecedented 30% drop - against the euro in a few short months. He didn't declare it a devaluation - he simply didn't call it anything. He just carried on sleepwalking as though nothing had happened. Fortunately, we'd done our planning and we had sufficient flex to be able to live through it - but the importance of planning wasn't lost on us.

If anyone reading this is thinking of making a similar move, I'd say the hardest part is not the move itself, but taking the decision to move. Once you've decided, the rest should happen according to your plan.

22nd April 2012. We've been having a fair share of rain lately and the garden is thankfully sprouting in all directions! I took the dog down to the beach at Anglet this morning - there was a fresh westerly wind blowing in a few showers from the Bay of Biscay, the slate green sea was rearing up in choppy waves and there were a fair number of surfers out there. All very bracing! Needless to say, the dog's ears were horizontal!

Thursday 7 July 2011

155. San Fermin - Hemingway's legacy..

7th July 2011. In Pamplona, down in the Spanish Basque country, it's San Fermin time again!! ("What..?") Yes, it's that time of the year when thousands of normally sane chartered accountants and other unlikely heroes from all over the world head towards Pamplona, just across the border in the Spanish Basque country to prove that their manliness extends beyond a remarkable ability to crush a paper cup or to flick a rubber band at the lovely Miss Rochester in Overdue Accounts (Unpaid). They try and achieve all this by running through the streets of Pamplona with their butt cheeks pressed hard together - a laudable feat in itself! - closely followed by several tons of prime beef - in the form of half a dozen Spanish fighting bulls - that just happen to be moving at the gallop a few steps behind and that are just itching to slip a stray and extremely sharp horn into the nearest pair of trousers they can find.. or to stomp on anything that moves within range.

This guy never expected to sing soprano again.. (let alone being able to hold high C for over 10 seconds!)


This one below doesn't look good.. he's a definite candidate for the "You can run but you can't hide" competition. He's got about ½ second to decide what his options are.. and he's dropped his rolled-up newspaper.. Meanwhile the bulls look like they've been practising this move all winter - and they're not taking any prisoners!

I don't know about you but I'd say that this is about as up close and personal as you'd ever want to be to a fighting bull. I think our man here would agree as well that tapping the bull on the nose with that rolled-up newspaper was not the best idea he ever had! (and hey! I thought LL Bean said their T shirts were rugged!)


Hemingway (in the white trousers)
Hemingway put the Fête de San Fermin on the world map of the imagination with his stunning first novel The Sun Also Rises (published as Fiesta in the UK). Based on a trip he'd recently made to the fiesta at Pamplona in 1926 with a group of Anglo-American friends, it can't be bettered as an introduction to Hemingway's oeuvre. Even though the young bull (right) has the tips of its horns padded, it would take considerable courage (and perhaps a drink or three) to persuade anyone with an ounce of self-preservation to step in front of one as Hemingway did here. Yes, he can be criticised but before you do - first try and persuade your legs to jump over the barrier into that ring.. Not so easy now is it?
Another novel down the tubes! I'll definitely start writing tomorrow..
This is what I like to see - a porky guy who has suddenly discovered that - hell yes! - a sub-10 second 100 metre dash is well within his capabilities! Who are you calling fatso!
I reckon releasing a fighting bull behind the sprinters should be allowed as an experiment at the London Olympics next year.. Think we'd see the first 8 second 100 metres!

This clip will give you a taster of the madness that descends upon the town for about 5 days.
9th July 2011. A very rewarding row this morning.. in a wooden shell coxless IV. The boat was going so well we carried on as far as Villefranque without anyone asking when we were going to stop and turn around (always a good sign). Did 18km (Running total: 856km).

12th July 2011. Thinking about Hemingway while having a shave this morning, it struck me that, perhaps in order to avoid his writing impulse being desensitised by the prosaic nature of everyday life, he'd sought to experience strong sensations as often as he could. There has often been a suggestion made that he had a death wish - one that he consistently denied - but I think that the process of getting close to many of these sensations was inherently risky. He attended a number of wars, went big game hunting, drank copiously all his life, was serious about catching big sporting fish, was an aficionado of bull fighting, he enjoyed multiple marriages (but did they enjoy him?) and travelled widely. I imagine that an adventure loving lad like our man would have felt confined in the leafy suburbs of Oak Park, Illinois. Now I don't know if this is an original observation about his need for sensation - but it's the first time I've thought of it! I think today he'd be described as an adrenalin junkie..

13th July 2011. Sometime in the wee small hours we had another "the house is going through a car-wash" moment.. There was a white flash and a rumble of thunder - closely followed by the pooch jumping up on the bed (any excuse!) - and then the hiss of rain that in a few seconds turned into a steady roar for a good few minutes.

Friday 14 January 2011

106. A tale from the dentist

13th January 2011. We decided on a quick shopping trip to Dancharia in Spain yesterday to look for some lighter luggage suitable for our upcoming trip to Spain..

On the return journey, as we were driving down the snaking mountain road back towards Espelette (a village noted for le Piment d'Espelette and this great hotel/restaurant, and there are seven others - not bad for a village of only 2,000 inhabitants!) an oncoming car gave a discreet single flash of his headlights to the car in front of us - and the same again to us. In the Pays Basque, if agents of the State (gendarmes, CRS, police, Douanes) are out and about, operating a speed trap or a document check or, as was the case here, customs officers looking for people bringing commercial quantities of cheap cigarettes into France from Spain, then it is not unusual to be warned in this way. The strong streak of antipathy towards agents of the French State here is balanced by an equal measure of solidarity among the Basques. It's clear why this region was so successful in combatting the best efforts of the German Abwehr during WWII. There is such a solidarity that penetrating it must have been an almost impossible task.  

Now, to change the subject, if you have a 'thing' for chocolate, here's another Bayonne institution - Chocolaterie Daranatz.. I went there the other day to buy a small box of marrons glacés as a little treat for Madame. (If I give her a marron glacé I can do no wrong for minutes weeks afterwards..) If you're not a chocaholique, have a browse on their site - it will spoil you for ordinary chocolate. Chocolate from Daranatz and their close neighbours Cazenave is to High Street chocolate as a 1930s 'Blower' Bentley is to an Austin Allegro.. A word of caution: they do mail order!

14th January 2011. I went to my dentist in town this morning. His practice is in the Avenue Thiers - Bayonne's most elegant avenue - with its pale stone buildings and lined with trees that are heavily manicured (square cut) in the French fashion.
Avenue Thiers
While he was attempting to get both hands and what felt like half of his tool-kit in my mouth(!), he started asking me the usual questions.. as they do! "Where are you going for your holidays..?" Response: "Aaaarr- aaarrgghhh.." He then told me that there used to be a Monsieur Armstrong, an old Englishman, who lived next door to his surgery. He said Mr Armstrong was a widower who had been married to a lady from Bayonne - a beauty apparently. He'd been a pilot in the RAF during WWII and had lived in Bayonne for many years. Ten years ago, when Mr Armstrong was 85, he hadn't been seen by his neighbours for a while so finally the police were called to break his door down. He was found stone cold, slumped in an armchair with a bottle of whisky in front of him.. A sad end, but I suppose there are worse ways to go. I must admit that I did wonder on the way home if that would be my destiny too..? I'd better get some (more) practice in! 

15th January 2011. I'm glad I crawled out of a warm bed early this morning to go down to the club - it was low tide and the river was still. There was a cloudless blue sky but it wasn't warm in the shadows. There was a good turnout this morning and we managed to put an VIII out on the water plus four IVs, several double scullers and singles. We took a coxless quad sculler out (2 nanas & 2 mecs) and it was unanimously agreed (by all apart from me!) that I should stroke it. At this point I should add I've not stroked a coxless four before. For any non-oarsmen reading this, steering is controlled by 'stroke' (me), with the rudder cable attached to the toe of my right shoe, which can pivot about the ball of the foot, moving the cable left or right. There was a total range of movement of about 3" (7.5cm) with the null position - ie, a dead straight rudder - in the centre. With the rudder centralised, the position of my right shoe was North/South - ie, straight up and down.  Unfortunately, when I'm rowing, my feet tend to settle at a "5 to 1" position (think clock) with the net result that the boat had a permanent tendency to turn to the left. I found it difficult to turn my right foot in to a "5 to" position and row at the same time.  We zigzagged our way up-river - with me zigging when I should have been zagging -  through a low steamy mist which lay on the river - every now and again we'd burst out of the shadows into a sunlit cloud of golden mist.. very photogenic. In fact, I spotted a photographer on the bank taking pictures of us. Great morning to be out on the river. We did 14km this morning - most of which was in a straight line! (Running total: 372km). 

As it was a bright blue afternoon, Madame and I set off for Biarritz once I'd found my sunglasses. We parked on the cliffs near the lighthouse that overlooks the Grande Plage. As we looked south towards Biarritz, the sea was a dazzling silver as it reflected the bright sunlight:
There were some major rollers sweeping in and surfers could be seen getting entangled with them. The coast road in to the centre is the Avenue de l'Impératrice (Empress Avenue in yer Anglo-Saxon - think it sounds better in French!) and it is lined with over-sized houses built during Biarritz's heyday about 100 years ago when it was the go-to destination for the rich and famous. The style could be described as exotic eclecticism. That's to say, they are a unique merging of a number of styles - heavily gabled Basque, Art Deco, fantasy castle, Norman, Spanish hacienda & French Empire - that's only to be found at Biarritz. Many appear to have been sub-divided into apartments but there are still several that remain under single occupancy. These have no price. At the bottom of the hill lies the truly magnificent 5 star Hôtel du Palais - one of the world's great hotels. I can just see myself shuffling into their elegant bar in my cardigan and slippers for a pre-dinner sundowner.. 

Turning right at the Palais, we headed down to the beach and the promenade. The sea was a sight to behold - surging waves were rolling in and breaking in confused explosions of foam. There appeared to be a strong undertow as incoming waves were colliding spectacularly with the outgoing remains of previous ones. And as each new wave crested just prior to breaking, steam-like spray would blow backwards off the top and a silvery mist hung over the beach. It was hot work sitting on the low wall watching the sea and there were even a few sun worshippers stripped down for bronzing action on the beach - some in bikinis (yes, in mid January!). After 15 minutes or so we decided we'd move before we were cooked through. (The temperature in the sun must have been upwards of 20°C)     

We walked up from the beach to the restored Art Deco Hotel Plaza where we sat outside for a coffee. It was so warm there we both took our jackets off.. So, Biarritz in January - what's it like I hear you ask..? Where to start..?

While I'm pondering that, enjoy the deceptive simplicity of Beethoven's 7th Symphony, the Second Movement (Allegretto)..

A couple of high quality flash mobs to finish with.. 
And this one filmed at the celebrated Café Iruña, Pamplona (another favourite resting place of a certain Mr E Hemingway).. 
And now back to our regular programming..!