Showing posts with label La Concha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label La Concha. Show all posts

Friday 6 October 2017

248. The pup!

30th October. The bay of Saint-Jean-de-Luz has never looked as beautiful as it does in this short video. It's not hard to imagine why we still pinch ourselves each time we waddle from the car to the sea front and let our eyes rest on this ravishingly beautiful bay. After a seafoody lunch at our old favourite ("Chez Pantxua"), we often take a walk around the small harbour at Socoa and on out to the end of the protective sea wall that saves Saint-Jean-de-Luz from the worst poundings of winter storms. Hard to believe when looking at these tranquil views that they exist - but they do. (take a look here. To give an idea of scale, there's a standard sized doorway in the small building at the end of the sea wall .. it appears at 0:18)

25th October. Readers with long memories may recall that in the intervals that remain unused between dog walking, lawn mowing, vacuuming, etc etc (hope I'm not sounding hard done by!), that I'm trying to learn the 5 string banjo. This cartoon of Gary Larson caught my eye:

The choir I sing with is going to be kept busy during the winter months learning this sublime piece (Cantique de Jean Racine, Op 11) by Gabriel Fauré, written when he was just 19 years old. I think it approaches perfection and I'm looking forward to the next few months.
 
Is it me? Over the past year or so, I've noticed that a couple of words started to appear constantly in general written usage and now it's hardly possible to read a newspaper (such as "TimeOut") or an article on the internet without running into them - and I haven't a clue what they mean.  I refer of course to "meme" and "trope". Am I the only one who had to look up the meaning in the dictionary? I won't bore you with the details.

A few years ago, "avatar", "iconic" and "eponymous" were used to death. And then there's "narrative". When I was at school, a narrative was an account of something that had happened. It's now been adopted full-time by the BBC chatterati and, well, I'll leave it there.  

24th October. Here's a tale of real life in France for you. On Saturday evening about 7.45pm, Madame went into the kitchen to prepare dinner and turned on one of the gas rings on the hob. In doing so, the piezoelectric igniter stuck and kept firing about once every 2 seconds. I tried some 'percussion adjustment' to no avail so I thought I'd switch off all the electrics via the master on/off switch to see if that would reset the hob. When I tried to switch the master power switch back on, the big press button was stuck in the 'Off' position and wouldn't budge. After we'd lit half a dozen candles, Madame remembered that there's an emergency phone number printed on the EDF bill - and so she made the call. To my astonishment, she was told that an emergency electrician would be at our house within the hour. 

Fifteen minutes later (!), there was a knock at the front door. The EDF man came in, took one look at our switchboard, tried to turn the power back on - couldn't - so he fitted a new master on/off unit and 15 minutes later he was all done. He told us that the intermittent switch action blockage was a known fault with that particular model of switch unit. For a fast, efficient service I don't see how this could have been bettered, especially on a Saturday night. What's more, it was free.. No call out charge, no charge for a new box, nothing. As he was a nice friendly guy, and he'd done a good job, and it was a Saturday night, I gave him a bottle of wine to enjoy when he was off duty.  

23rd October. Over the mountains into Spain this afternoon for some shopping.. the hills were ablaze in their autumnal colours - the fern-covered slopes are now a burnt caramel, and due to the altitude, autumn is more advanced up in the hills than down here at sea level with tree foliage dazzling in coppery hues before the onset of winter. The sharply sloped hills looked spectacular this afternoon under a burning blue sky. I made a mental note to visit the valley of les Aldudes (below) in the very near future - with my camera!

21st October. "Young Frankenstein" (1974) was always a favourite Mel Brooks film of mine - lots of old jokes get dusted off in this great parody of Ye Olde Hollywoode Spinechillers - with an excellent cast: Gene Wilder, Peter Boyle, Marty Feldman & Madeline Kahn. Sadly, all four of them are no longer with us.
I had a pleasant surprise earlier when the post came - I received a welcome cheque from HM Revenue & Customs for several hundred of Her Majesty's Olde English pounds (and how often do you write that?!) To find out more, read this. To apply for this largesse, start here.

I've forgotten to mention a project that is affecting many of us in and around Bayonne - the start of the public works necessary to create the new Tram'bus service. This 130m euro project will connect Tarnos (north of the Adour) with Bayonne, Anglet and Biarritz. Tarnos is something of a dormitory town for many who work in Bayonne, Anglet or Biarritz. (Description of the routes here)

Those of us with long memories may remember the trolley buses of the 1950s - with their tangled networks of overhead wires. The vehicles of this Tram'bus service will be battery powered - with charging points at each end of the line - no overhead wires required - thus minimising the infrastructure requirement. 

Land is being developed (code for houses being flattened) in many places on the Côte Basque to make way for multi-occupancy apartment blocks, thus increasing the traffic density. The idea behind this tram'bus initiative is that it should ease some of the congestion on the roads that we see at peak times. This project coincides with another work in progress - the renovation of the Pont Saint-Esprit that spans the Adour.  There is a similar tidal flow of traffic between the main coastal towns Biarritz, Anglet & Bayonne) and the inland villages. A tram'bus park and ride scheme would do much to ease the traffic congestion at peak hours.  

Fronton, Ascain
One of the aspects I enjoy very much about living in this region is the proximity of the hills. We don't have to drive very far before we find ourselves on single track roads that wind up and up into the high country that few tourists get to see. I once read that 95% of the tourists to the region don't venture more than 10km inland. We were no different when we first came down here in the early 90s. We were seduced by the charm of the white painted Basque villages, each set around its church and the fronton (right). It wasn't long though before we found ourselves exploring deeper into the surrounding hills and valleys - and it was here that we found the real Basque country - which is very different to the coastal strip with all its hustle and bustle. In attempting to discover the routes used by wartime evaders fleeing occupied France during WWII, I've become familiar with some of the terrain shown in this video.. and have the scars to prove it!

20th October. Well, I've gone and done it.! I've just launched into the French postal system another large wodge of documentation (proformas, original documents, sworn translations of documents and photographs) in further support of my request for French nationality. (I needed to add some documents to the previous collection I sent the authorities at the end of August) However, before you think that the old boy has lost the plot, I should say that I'm only doing it as a way of ensuring I can remain here in the event that the ongoing negotiations with the European Union turn pear-shaped - or more pear-shaped than they already are.

I use the word 'negotiations' but, in my view, an unsubstantiated demand for an unspecified number of billions (believed to be in the region of 60-100bn euros) just to enable the negotiations to proceed to the trade talks - with no guarantee of a successful outcome - appears to me to have originated in dreamland. Personally, I think the UK team should politely decline this generous offer and walk away from the table, spending the money instead on the infrastructure changes required for the UK to conduct global trade under WTO terms.

I voted Leave in the EU referendum (despite being in receipt of pensions paid in £ sterling and hence at the mercy of the exchange rate) out of my concern that the UK had allowed itself to become enmeshed in an undemocratic political construct that has, as its aim, 'ever-closer union'. This non-specific phrase means everything and nothing. It permits present and future EU politicians enormous freedom of action and if our EU membership continued, we would be committed to following their policies. I say 'following' because even though we are a permanent member of the UN Security Council, a nuclear power, a pillar of NATO, a member of the G7 (or is it the G8 now?) and one of the few net contributors to the EU budget, we have little (as in zero) influence on the direction that the EU is heading. It's a Franco-German stitch-up.

For example, one of the developments in Europe that greatly concerns me is that there is now a concerted effort to form a European Army. How could any self-respecting UK government allow its forces to be put in harm's way at the behest of unelected EU civilians? It's also clear that the long term aim of the EU nomenklatura is to turn the EU into the United States of Europe. This lofty ambition conveniently ignores the fact that the United States of America was, and still is, founded on democratic principles - and that the separation of powers is fundamental to the functioning of the Executive, the Legislature and the Judiciary. The EU is continuing down a path for which it has no mandate - which is unsurprising because legislation originates in the faceless unelected ranks of the EU Commission where the politically motivated few are changing our lives by stealth and by underhand means.     

Back to my application for French nationality - nowadays, the requirement for a language test has been waived for applicants of my advanced years (think the waiver kicks in at the age of 60) so that's one hurdle I don't need to cross. All I have to do now is to hurry up and wait.

I'll continue to hold UK nationality but if my request for French nationality is granted, I'll be able to vote here and it may serve to help me remain here in the aftermath of the Brexit negotiations. (maybe!)

18th October. I've been listening to this Basque choir - and there's something in the distinctive timbre of their voices that puts me in mind of a Welsh male voice choir:
Years ago, I discovered the books of Garrison Keillor, an American author and humourist, who grew up in Minnesota. He had a regular slot on American national public radio for many years where he read the "News from Lake Wobegon" - a fictional lakeside community in rural Minnesota peopled with characters that quickly established themselves.. His gentle humour is very listenable to - and as each of his characters and locations take shape in your imagination, it becomes harder and harder to believe that they're all fictional. Take a load off, sit back and enjoy Lake Wobegon - this one's one of my favourites:
  
In doing a small DIY job yesterday, I was reminded forcibly of the immutable Laws of Home DIY. I thought I'd update the list and bring them all together:

1. There’s no such thing as a simple job.
2. If it isn’t broken, fix it until it is.
3. If the screw isn’t going in, use a bigger hammer.
4. The drill bit you want is the one that’s missing from the box.
5. Never be tempted to change the drill bit in your electric drill with the power on. (I'll tell you the story one day!)
6. Measure twice. Cut once. (This rule can be applied to many areas in Life)
7. The best tool is a mug of coffee. Look at the job often - thinking time is never wasted.
Three from Lesley:
8. Anything thrown away will be required within the week. (So true!)
9. If you drop an Allen key, nut, bolt or screw it will always end up in the most inaccessible place.
10. As soon as you get your hands greasy you will need to scratch your nose or use the lavatory.
11. If you are in desperate need of one item to finish a job, the shops will be closed.
12. When the shop is finally open, the one item you want comes in a pack of six.
13. If it's your lucky day, and the shop sells the item you need in a single pack, they will have it in two sizes: too large and too small.
14. You've been saving something for 20 years knowing that one day you'll need it. When that day finally arrives, you can't remember where you left it. (happened to me yesterday!)
15. Never start a job on a Sunday afternoon.
16. You'll never find the thing you need until the day you don't need it.
17. Someone will have used the last bandage/band aid the day before you do involuntary finger surgery.
18. The only known supplier of the part you need closed down last weekend.
19. The most useless tool in your tool box is the wrong size Allen Key!
20. Superglue is a must for many DIY tasks - it is guaranteed to rapidly and permanently stick objects to things other than that intended.
21. Despite tidying up after a job and putting everything back in place on the right hook, in the right box, on the right shelf - things disappear.
22. If you have to remove twelve rusty nuts/screws/nails that have been untouched since the Spanish Civil War, eleven of them will unscrew/come out easily.
23. You have a couple of partitioned boxes neatly filled with every type and size of nail, screw and bolt known to mankind - except for the one you want.
24. You discover that the new lamp that you bought just before closing time on Saturday afternoon doesn't come with a light bulb (and this fact isn't mentioned on the box it came in). You then discover that it will only accept a new type of bulb - and none of your spares will fit.
25. Screwing up today's "small job" turns it into tomorrow's "big job". (Hands up all those who haven't done that!)

We have a table on the terrace that stays outside all the year around. In winter, it's covered up to keep the rains off it. The top is made up of countless small tiles, all held in place by exterior grade mortar (right word?). We noticed that in one area the mortar had disappeared and a few tiles were loose. I used a powerful adhesive to glue the loose tiles back in place and then I set off to the big DIY shop a few minutes away to find a small pack of exterior grade grouting/mortar (you can hear what's coming can't you!). Imagine my surprise when after staring desperately at the shelves full of products that solved problems similar to, but not quite the same as, mine - the only one in stock that ticked all the boxes was of course big enough to grout half of Trafalgar Square! There was nothing for it but to buy the thing..

It was a spin-off of Portland cement and it absorbed a surprisingly large quantity of water in a container before it achieved the right consistency. I then spread it over the problem tiles, smoothed it into place with one of Madame's rubber kitchen spatulas (she was out - shhh!). I washed it thoroughly afterwards and somehow forgot to mention it to her when she came home.. One of my better DIY jobs. 

15th October. Down to the green behind the beach (Plage des Cavaliers, Anglet) this morning with the pup - and as there were no other dogs in sight, I decided the time was ripe to unclip him from his lead for the first time. Always a nerve-racking moment but I needn't have worried - he'd wander off a little to investigate a rogue leaf or similar before racing back to me. There was the continuous roar of a big sea running so we walked up to the coastal path to take a look. 
It all appeared to be moving in slow motion - blue rollers would rise up and up and just as they broke, the strong southerly wind would tear the crests off them which spun away in a dazzle of silver'd spray. It was what used to be known as a Kodak moment! Forecast is for 29° today so we're meeting a friend for lunch out at Arcangues.   

Here's an interesting video that shows our part of the world as it used to be:


NB. The rowing club shows up at 1:35. The former indoor market appears at 7:54. This was an outstanding example of the 'brutalist' school (I made that name up) of French architecture. They seem incapable of occupying the middle ground in the way that British architects (or perhaps their patrons) are prone to do. The Sainsbury Wing (right) of the National Gallery, London is a bland pastiche of classical styles (beloved of Prince Charles!) designed to blend in.. anonymously. 

Here, in France, patrons seem willing to take risks with new buildings.. and the results can shock. The former indoor market at Bayonne fell into that category in my uneducated view. Equally however, they are capable of rising to the challenge and producing something sublime - such as the Louvre Pyramid (above).   
La Concha, San Sebastian
13th October. Madame had some positive health news this morning - so to give her a welcome change of scenery we decided to go to San Sebastian.. It was a balmy 28° and it seemed like all of Spain was out there, taking the air. Afterwards, I just had to google this to find out what was going on - and yes, yesterday - 12th October - was Spain's national holiday - Hispanic Day. It seems that many people had taken today off as well as the town's pavements (sidewalks) were thronged with people. I lost count of how many times passers-by stopped us to look at the pup - he really had the ladies of San Sebastian going! The beach was getting crowded too with sun worshippers while flotillas of stand-up paddlers were wobbling gingerly across the bay.

We talked ourselves into having a light lunch at Kata4 - a stylish oyster bar/restaurant around the corner from the Hotel Maria Cristina and ideally situated for people watching. We'd been here before and liked it very much. Our friendly multilingual waitress spoke Spanish, French and English.. and I suspect she had a few more up her sleeve. The menu changes often - have a look at the photos. I also put a couple of pins on the map in the left hand column for Kata4 and another favourite - a cider house/restaurant outside town called Petritegi (left).

12th October. I was out with the pup earlier and I took him to his usual watering hole - a tree-lined park just a few minutes away. Today, it was clear that Autumn was coming - the trees were showing a spread of colours centred around russet and, to punctuate the message, there was the occasional sound of acorns hitting the ground as they fell down from on high. I've set the kindling in our wood-burner in advance so that it's ready for that first evening when a fire is called for. We had a few trees taken down in the garden a couple of years ago and the logs have been stacked at the side of the house ever since to thoroughly dry them out before they get burnt. I think we're all set!

Yesterday saw us hit one of those once-in-a-lifetime anniversaries - it was 50 years ago to the day when I met my inamorata. Fifty years..? How could that be possible - but yet, it's true. For this date, we'd always talked about a trip to Paris and dinner at the legendary Tour d'Argent. This wonderfully situated restaurant has been on our 'to do' list for as long as I can remember - but the arrival of Nutty has meant that that particular ambition has had to be put on hold.

La Plancha
So, time for Plan B.. We decided to have lunch at the relaxed, unpretentious and friendly La Plancha, a seafood restaurant at Bidart. (to orientate yourself, look here) There's a terrace overlooking the beach and the sea and, for those cooler days, there are tables inside as well. If this restaurant was any nearer the sea, you'd have wet feet! After all the recent unsettled weather we enjoyed a perfect sunny cloudless day (with temps up in the mid twenties) sitting out on their terrace overlooking the almost deserted beach, although it did start to fill up later on. We started off with an Assiette Hispanique - which was a generous serving of thinly sliced jambon de Bayonne, chorizo, lomo and saucisson accompanied by some green chillies. This was followed by a rich, garlicky Zarzuela (a Catalan interpretation of Marseille's bouillabaisse that looked something like this). Suffice to say, it was just what we needed to celebrate the day. Here (below) is my photo from yesterday - apologies for the tilt! I can't find a menu online so step through these photos to get an idea of what else is on offer. 
View from 'La Plancha'





















6th October. Nutty, our new cocker spaniel pup, is growing while-U-watch! Here he is in the garden earlier this afternoon pondering the meaning of life (or maybe not), and taking a well-earned break from something or other - excavating for Britain, eating shrubs, racing around like a mad thing, jumping down the steps three at a time.. He now weighs in at a tad under 10kgs.. (he was 6.2 when we got him) 




























1st October
. A couple of days ago, I took Madame to look at electric bikes and she took a couple out for a spin. Just as I was a few months ago, she was delighted with the experience - she particularly liked the Kalkhoff Voyager Mover B8 (a name that trips off the tongue!) for its sit-up-and-beg riding position. Once the dust has settled, we might well go for one of these.

This morning I took GodzillaPup down to the beach for a leg stretch - the weather was dismal - constant drizzle under low stratus that was almost down to the deck. Looking at the sea, it was still very busy with breakers of around 3m or so - but the whole scene looked like 50 Shades of Grey.. with just a hint of pale green in the waves as they broke. It wasn't a morning for walking and the pup was glad (as was I) when we turned around and headed back to the car.

We (I) came home to rabbit with prunes in a red wine sauce.. with a potato and celeriac mash. To help this go south, we opened a bottle of Saint-Pourçain red* (now stocked at our local Carrefour). I was riding very low in the water after this - but then Madame brought out some pears that had been braised in red wine. The challenge for me now is to stay awake for the rest of the afternoon!

*This is well worth searching out.   

Tuesday 23 March 2010

50. San Sebastián

23rd March 2010. One of the benefits of living down in the extreme south west corner of France is that, apart from being a reassuringly long way from Calais (!), we are close to the border with Spain. Close enough so that we can set off for Spain at short notice (as in 5 minutes) without it becoming a major logistical exercise. Travelling abroad from Britain with a car was, and still is, a pain.. There was always that inescapable feeling that we were being exploited by the cross channel operators whether it was by the ferries, hovercraft or the tunnel - especially during school holidays. I once read somewhere that it's the world's most expensive sea crossing. No surprises there - as I've always suspected that the cross channel companies operate a cartel. The thing that always wound me up was that in spite of a 5 hour journey down to Dover, followed by a rip off channel crossing, we were still only at Calais! Anyway, breathe deeply and relax.. (again!)

Living down here provides us with another welcome string to our bow. If we feel like a good strong Spanish coffee, one of their wonderful hot chocolates or just some casual strolling about window shopping, then from leaving the house to arriving in Irun it's no more than a quick 25 minute zip down the road. Sometimes it's just nice to be able to go and access a different culture.. plus Madame speaks a little Spanish which comes in handy.

On the French side, almost without exception, houses are painted white with the woodwork picked out in Basque Rouge - blood red. However, once over the border, there's a subtle change in building styles. After the all-pervading 'whiteness' of the Pays Basque, there's an indefinable hint of austereness in the style of their brown stone buildings that I find attractive. This aspect of their domestic architecture becomes more pronounced in towns like San Sebastian (Donostia in Basque).

This noble old town (pop: 180,000) is only 60km (37 miles) from Bayonne - 45 mins by car - and it's set on a magnificent circular bay known as La Concha. The development of rail travel in the mid-19th century enabled Napoleon III and the Empress Eugenie to travel in comfort down to Biarritz to set up their summer residence. The Spanish monarchy followed suit and chose San Sebastian as their preferred seaside resort in order to escape the relentless heat of Madrid summers. Subsequently the Spanish nobility and the diplomatic corps opened up residences in the summer capital.
San Sebastian has a real style to it - it's a more formal, more businesslike town than its neighbours across the border in the French Basque country - even Biarritz - with its many offices and shops in addition to the numerous hotels. The arcades, streets and boulevards are lined with heavy brown stone apartment buildings in a rococo style, many with ornate curlicued balconies. Our first visit there was during one of our holidays in the Pays Basque and we were dressed in shorts and t-shirts. Very quickly we realised that the residents were dressed for work rather than the beach and after that, we always spruced ourselves up for a visit there.
The river Urumea has been canalised to flow through the town and it is spanned by some beautiful bridges. After strolling around the sea front and looking in countless shop windows (!) we generally head for the Parte Vieja (Old Quarter) - a fascinating quarter characterised by its narrow streets and an astonishing number of bars and cafes, all of which serve pintxos (or tapas as they're known elsewhere in Spain).
Entering one such, you'll find that every square inch of the bar top will be covered in pintxos dishes.. of all kinds - fish, tortillas, crab, sausage, egg, various hams & salamis.. and the ceiling space is taken up with cured hams - a feast for the eyes. These pintxos are best eased down with a glass or two of Sangria.. followed by one of their trademark black coffees..
Overheard in an English pub (probably apocryphal!):

Customer to waitress – “That was inedible muck, and there wasn't enough of it."

And, coming in from the car park to complain again: "And frankly m’dear, once I've eaten a thing, I don't expect to see it again."

An old favourite of mine - Judi Collins singing "Send in the clowns".. This song could have been written for Madame and I..

I don't think I've ever liked a Sinatra song enough to want to buy a recording - but I think in this case perhaps I should have done. His interpretation of "Send in the clowns" is the definitive one and I'd like to have heard him sing this when he was in his prime.