266. Hello Spring!

30th April. We had a quick raid in Spain yesterday - I topped up my whisky stocks with a 2 litre bottle (think Football Manager of the Month size!) of Sir Edward's at 18.95€* - a price I couldn't ignore! I defy anyone to categorise it as a rotgut product.. We've all been programmed to believe that high price = good and low price = bad.. I'd be interested to see how people would score this whisky in a blind tasting. 

* = £8.17/litre. 

Henrik Overgaard-Nielsen (right) is a Dane who came to the UK and worked as an NHS dentist for 20 years. His story refutes the tired old prejudiced stereotype of the Brexiteer as portrayed by the pro-Remain UK media and the Establishment. Playing to the gallery, Owen Smith, Labour MP for Pontypridd predictably falls back on a spot of name-calling - labelling Brexit a "racist, xenophobic, right-wing reactionary project". I'd be interested to find what evidence he has for that statement.

Here's an extract from a statement made by Henrik after the Referendum: "I am far from being one of the 17.4 million xenophobes whom Chuka Umunna has claimed are among his fellow citizens. Support for Brexit is not only to be found on the right of the political spectrum, it is across the board, and the Brexit Party is a perfect example of that. Far-right parties do not speak for me, nor do they speak for the majority of this country. Having come here as a European immigrant over twenty years ago, I can safely say that the rhetoric which comes from those on the far right does not represent what I have experienced; Britain has been open and welcoming to me."

"The Brexit Party brings together people from all backgrounds and challenges the dangerous stereotype which media outlets like the BBC push. We Brexiteers are not a monolithic group of ignorant and uneducated voters who blindly supported Brexit because they liked Boris Johnson. How will they marry up the idea of me – a socialist, NHS dentist and trade union representative, who used to live in a commune – with being a Brexiteer?"

Denmark seldom gets a mention here - so mange tak to Henrik - here's some Danish party music..

In something of a 'first' for me, I registered as a supporter of the Brexit Party a few days ago. (Edited to add in 2023: The Brexit Party is no longer the force it was since the departure of Nigel Farage.) 

Bleu Café

28th April. To Biarritz this morning with the pooch to have a walk along the sea front - and to watch the breakers rolling in with a crash at high tide. We stopped off first at the Bleu Café (right) for a coffee, ideally situated on the Grande Plage for a grandstand view of the Sunday morning crowd (photos).

We then headed into town only to find that a braderie was in progress - ie, a sale where the shops set out all their marked-down merchandise on racks in the street. Best avoided unless you have the shopping gene! There was a "start of season" feel to life this morning with quite a few foreigners (ie, people from outside the Pays Basque!) out and about.

27th April. Most visitors to the Pays Basque don't stray too far from the coast - and, for many reasons, that's completely understandable. However, the interior boasts some fine mountain scenery with stunning views that seem to go on for ever. I'd recommend that visitors spend at least a day or two in the Pyrenees National Park.

Here's a charming short video (below) that captures much that is admirable about Bayonne. And - unsurprisingly - I wouldn't argue with any of it! When we first came down to the Pays Basque, we were immediately seduced by the undoubted Basque charms of Saint-Jean-de-Luz and, to a lesser extent, Biarritz. However, forced by the reality of property prices to look elsewhere, we backed into Bayonne in a manner of speaking - and now not a day goes by that I don't thank our lucky stars!
It's a town for living in - as opposed to visiting. That's not to say that it's not set up for tourism - far from it - but that its appeal is not as immediately apparent as the other two towns, which are largely given over to meeting the needs of tourists. We still pinch ourselves when we visit Saint-Jean-de-Luz and walk along the spectacular sea front there - and we always get a buzz when visiting Biarritz, with its dazzling light and its fantastically eclectic range of properties dating back to its Belle Epoque days - but Bayonne exerts an undeniable pull on us - and I can't imagine a day when we'd ever want to move from here. Even now, when we leave to drive north towards Bordeaux or further afield, we still ask ourselves why on earth are we leaving?  

Here's another that focuses on some of the products that Bayonne is justifiably famous for:

25th April. I took the dawg down to the coast this morning for a good run - and after rain had swept through overnight, there was unlimited visibility (as in "gin clear") and I could clearly see hills on the far side of San Sebastian - and I suspect as far as Bilbao on the northern Spanish coast. An off-shore breeze was ripping the tops of waves off in continuous arcs of spindrift (right). A beautiful morning..

24th April. The British Embassy, Paris, has been publishing a series of newsletters for British expats resident in France. The latest newsletter (dated April 2019) starts:

"The British Government continues to seek a way in which the UK can leave the EU in an orderly manner and without undue delay. In the meantime, the French Government is publishing more information about what a no-deal would mean for British nationals in France. We want to share this information with you, so we will be emailing updates to you as and when we can. This update covers the French Ministry of Interior's decree about entry, residence, social rights and professional activity in France for British nationals in the event of a no-deal departure from the EU. The second part of this newsletter covers the recognition of UK driving licences in France in the event of no-deal."
Click here to continue reading. (To sign up to receive the Embassy's Newsletters, click here).

There has been much talk here in France lately of the marked increase in suicides by the nation's gendarmes and police. As if this wasn't bad enough, there have been some shocking scenes at demonstrations by the gilets jaunes (and/or aided by anarchists and others who have infiltrated their ranks) when masked or hooded demonstrators have chanted "Suicidez-vous" ("Kill yourselves") at the forces of law and order. There are some very sick people out there. This same message has been spray painted on several police stations throughout the country. Another piece of graffiti that I've noticed both here and across the border in Spain is a charming one imported from the UK - ACAB (All Coppers Are Bastards).

It's difficult to comment on the level of hatred that makes people chant slogans like these at the police. They don't know how lucky they are to live here. Yes, life can be difficult - but when has it not been? Poverty is relative.. just the other day I saw a young man sitting on the pavement in town begging - while at the same time talking on a smart phone. The generation who grew up with leather sofas and big screen TVs took them for granted - but now they are finding out the hard way just how difficult the acquisition of these consumer products can be. For many, taking part in a 'manif' (demo) is a rite of passage - and then there are those who like to see how far they can provoke the police. Finally, there are those (above right) who simply wish to take advantage of the opportunity to attack the police. Sadly, there's no shortage of provocateurs at these demos.

There are many retired people who joined the gilet jaunes movement in the hope that the Government would cave in to their demands. In my view, they have a legitimate case - as pensions have been frozen here for a number of years while at the same time utilities (electricty and gas) have announced price hikes in excess of inflation. For those in receipt of pensions, this is a particularly cruel outcome as they have no means of topping up their income.

I believe that there's an internationalist element to these nihilistic anarchists, enabled by the internet, mobile phones and social media, that allows them to coordinate their shameful actions and to act in numbers. 

There's long been a habit here for opportunist thieves or vandals (known as "casseurs" - literally 'breakers' - but 'wreckers' is closer) to join otherwise peaceful demonstrations to cause mayhem - like the one (right) who just happened to find a hammer in his pocket - and it seems that the coordination of these acts has ramped up. There are also those who come with weapons prepared to commit violent acts, like the 'peaceful' demonstrator (above left) armed with a powerful catapult that could really cause serious injury to someone. The real challenge to the government is how to respond to these disturbing urban events in ways that will not be interpreted by the ever-present media (who are invariably embedded with the demonstrators) as the use of excessive force by the State. Of course, the rolling news channels pay for and feed off shocking imagery (provided by phone videos etc) and so the whole thing becomes self-sustaining.

We're not immune to the effects of the gilets jaunes in this part of the world - there have been small encampments of them on the approaches to the Pont Henri Grenet over the Adour and elsewhere for some months now. In former times, French governments invariably acceded, at least in part, to the demands of street protesters - but this time I think that President Macron has very little room to manoeuvre so I anticipate a long drawn-out stand-off. In my view, the actions by the extremists mentioned above were designed to inflame matters and provoke a reaction in the hope that it will work to their advantage. We have a long way to go yet before this will be resolved. 

Meanwhile, across the Channel, MPs have returned to Westminster after their 12 day break. Nigel Farage's newly formed Brexit Party has recruited an interesting candidate from the ranks of the Conservative Party - Annunziata Rees-Mogg (yes, Jacob's sister).

According to the media, the stage is being set for the centre ground of UK politics to be abandoned and of course, this would be an unwelcome turn of events - if it were to happen. Certainly, the Labour Party (backed by Momentum) has taken steps away from the centre ground.

However, as much as political pundits (including those of the BBC) will attempt to smear the Brexit Party by calling it a Far Right party, I don't believe that those involved at the heart of it would ever allow it to drift off to the fringes. Mr Farage has also been accused by the media of wanting a "hard" Brexit. To me, the UK is either in or out - there's no such thing as a hard or soft Brexit except in the minds of those who are scheming for the UK to remain.

Brexit was always a cross party issue - something that the media has consistently ignored since the UK electorate voted to leave the EU in June 2016 as it doesn't fit their narrative. I've said this before but we have too much media, too many talking heads, everyone's talking and no-one's listening. Now that the genie's out of the bottle, it's probably asking too much of MPs to STFU and put their country first - but that's what's needed..

23rd April. I haven't been able to bring myself to watch any of the news coverage about the fire at Notre-Dame, Paris. This painting of Notre-Dame looming dark and heavy against the evening sky says it all to me:

Just back from lunch outside at a trattoria on the banks of the Adour. We had to ask for an umbrella as the sun was so hot - the car registered 24½°C (76°F) on the way home.

Bryan Gould, a former Labour minister, now returned to his native New Zealand has written: The Remainers' constant theme is the admonition of those who voted for Brexit and who are, as they see it, foolish enough to think that we can extricate ourselves painlessly from our entanglement with the European Union. What is remarkable about this stance is that there is no hint of any apology from them, or acceptance of any responsibility on their part, for this dilemma. It was after all today’s Remainers who urged us on in the first place and led to our being embroiled in an arrangement which, as I and others warned at the time, was contrary to our interests and from which it is proving so difficult to free ourselves. 

22nd April. Here's the late George Harrison (former mop-top!) with his catchy interpretation of Cab Calloway's 1931 hit - The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea..

19th April. The crush of people here continues.. The Foire au Jambon runs through until Sunday, so there's a crowd attached to that - then there are those in town who have come down for the Easter weekend.. then fold in the road works that have been going on for months now and you have all the ingredients in place for fun and games on the roads - not forgetting the entries for the creative parking competition (Pays Basque section). After all that talk of whisky, I think I might interview Dr Glenmorangie this evening. Here's something to put you in the mood.. 

I've recently become aware (subliminal marketing perhaps?) of "Monkey Shoulder" - a blended malt whisky. It's not a blended whisky but an 'undisclosed' combination of ‘different’ Speyside single malts.. and I've clearly taken my eye off the ball as I've yet to try one! Full list of blended malt whiskies here. It sounds interesting and I've seen it across the border in Spain. Thinking about it though, part of the pleasure of drinking a single malt for me comes from associating the taste with its place of origin in Speyside or the Highlands. With malt whisky, I like to know what I'm drinking - and by masking off that knowledge from us, I think William Grant and Sons are doing their product a disservice. I suspect they wish to make their product more "accessible" to a younger and, dare I say it, trendier demographic who couldn't care less where the whisky was distilled and matured. I detect a strong whiff of marketing here.

Want to know more about whisky? Look here. And then go out and buy one of these! Aka the gift that keeps on giving..

I remember once trying to buy a leg of lamb from the butcher's department in a UK supermarket. I asked the assistant where the lamb came from - to which she replied, "The fridge..". 

18th April. Road space and parking was at a premium here in Bayonne today due to the ongoing road works in preparation for the introduction of the Tram'bus service (presented here by Laurent Irazusta - former president of my old rowing club). Perhaps more importantly, today was also the opening of the Foire au Jambon 2019.. This is a major annual event that celebrates the Jambon de Bayonne and it attracts visitors from far and wide to meet friends, have lunch together, share a bottle of wine - and yes, sample some Jambon de Bayonne! And with this being France, any time that gastronomy raises its head, it can be guaranteed that a Confrérie (only in France!) will make an appearance - and so (with a roll of drums) enter the Confrérie du Jambon de Bayonne! (by the way, that's Basque you can hear being spoken)
16th April. Here's some music to stare out of the window by: it's the second movement of Beethoven's Sonata "Pathetique" Op 13, played beautifully here by Matthew McAllister:

I'm not sure that this is quite what Beethoven had in mind for this wonderful piece of music. If you would prefer to listen to it played on a piano, here's Li Yundi with his equally beautiful  interpretation.

13th April. Have you been mystified by some/all of the rugby videos I've posted here? Have you asked yourself why this or that happened? Here's a short animation that outlines the main rules of the game and it should dispel some of the fog..

10th April. There was a flash of light early this morning - followed a second or two later by an explosive crack and rumble of nearby thunder (very nearby!) and since then the gutters have been running with water.

8th April. By the way, I must thank Heather (a friend's daughter) again for sending us this very accomplished watercolour - an extremely lifelike rendition of our English cocker spaniel.

 

We were delighted to receive this last Christmas - out of the blue - and we were both amazed at how she'd really managed to capture the little rascal as he is (sometimes!). I don't know how she did it. Many thanks! He was still a pup in the photograph - but since then he's morphed into a 17kg (if not more) adult dog..

Someone sent me a link to a video of a 'ground-up' restoration of a 1973 Porsche 911S. It would have been waay out of my league when new back in the early 1970s - and looking at the amount of effort and skill that has gone into this painstaking "back-to-bare-metal" restoration, it still is! (I shudder to think what the labour costs would have been) However, one can but dream.

My other dream car - a Bentley Mk VI (but minus the whitewall tyres) - is at the opposite end of the spectrum to the Porsche. Where the Porsche is minimalist - spartan even - the Bentley is like a Gentlemen's Club on wheels - all leather armchairs, Wilton carpeting, burr walnut dash and door cappings. I would hate to be put in the position of having to choose between one or the other (not that it will ever happen). An impossible choice - but I think I'd finally come down on the side of the Bentley - with that effortless straight six engine and the plush interior, it's got character and style in spades. I could see myself sitting in it in my pyjamas at 6am with a coffee. Sadly, I think the real reason would be that getting in and out of a Bentley Mk VI would be easier. More on Bentley Mk VIs here. The ultimate Bentley is surely this R-R Meteor-powered monster - yes, a development of the same engine that powered the immortal Spitfire and the Mustang - built by this company in Devon, UK. Ah well, back to the real world!

It's good to have a dream or two though - I think we need our dreams for life to be fully savoured. As you may have noticed, I'm more than happy with the life I have! Human nature being what it is though, we always want just that little bit more. (OK, in the case of a Porsche or a Bentley, it would be a lot more!)

7th April. Just watched the 2019 University Boat Race rowed under grey skies on the Thames - and Cambridge Ladies took a well-deserved win, driven on all the way by the inspirational Lily Lindsay, their dynamic stroke. I've always supported Oxford but it was clear from the start that it was going to be Cambridge's race. They looked as if they meant business whereas Oxford looked as if they were out on a Saturday morning club row. I just couldn't see how they thought they might win, rowing like that. The Ladies race starts at 13:50 in the video below..

The Mens boat race was far closer and there was only a length in it at the finish. Cambridge had a lightning quick start - and sat on their lead despite a praiseworthy attempt by the Dark Blue boat to get back on terms. The Mens race starts at 1:11:27:

 

I was disappointed to hear foul language from two of the four coxes in the races. I hope the clubs concerned take steps to ensure that this doesn't happen again.

April showers

Another soaking for me this morning! I'd taken the pooch for his Sunday morning gallop through the woods and fortunately I'd remembered to take an umbrella with me as the weather looked a bit iffy. We'd only got about 100 yards or so from the car when someone upstairs turned the rain on..

This was monsoon-style rain - and the closest I can get to describing it is to say it sounded like someone pouring dried peas on the umbrella from a great height! It wasn't merely drumming - it was deafening - as I squelched through the empty woods - squelch squelch squelch - under my oversized umbrella. If the dog had looked only bedraggled, it would have been an improvement! He was soaked - and needed wringing out! He's still slightly damp even now in the late afternoon.

It's been uncharacteristically dry here these last few months so this morning's rainfall will benefit my "corner of a foreign field - that is for ever England". Couldn't resist that one!

4th April. The weather's a bit disturbed here at the moment - the horizon is black with squally showers blowing through now and again. I took the pooch for a run through the woods near the beach this morning and the hollows in the undergrowth were filled with hail..

Yesterday evening I parked my car in Saint-Jean-de-Luz (above) in good time for a meeting at the Town Hall - the skies were clear - when I suddenly had to dash back to the car to pick up something I'd forgotten. Returning to the Town Hall minutes later, the skies blackened ominously, the wind picked up and then I was hammered by hail.. Just what I needed before the meeting!

Here's a song that reminds me of a happy time in my life. (full details supplied on request - if accompanied by a cheque!☺) 

3rd April. I had a meeting at the Town Hall of Saint-Jean-de-Luz in the late afternoon - and when we emerged afterwards at about 6.30pm, the pavements were shiny following a recent shower. The sun was low in the south west over the distant mountains and the slanting evening light gilded the gleaming rooftops of Ciboure across the inner harbour, the surface of which dazzled and rippled like liquid gold. If ever there was a real Kodak moment, this was it! I pointed it out to a companion (a native of Ciboure) who was busy reviewing the key points of the meeting and it stopped him dead in his tracks too. Why didn't I have a camera with me..?!

  

The Nive with the cathedral
in the background

2nd April. I forgot to mention that on Saturday morning I went out on my ebike through the centre of town and out along the towpath along banks of the beautiful Nive. With it being a Saturday morning, there were quite a few boats out on the river - and it reminded me of those happy mornings when I used to row there with the section Loisir (leisure). We'd try and set ourselves into a long, sustainable, almost hypnotic rhythm and before long the outside world would cease to exist. I remember that sometimes I'd suddenly realise that I hadn't seen the last few kilometres pass by due to my being so absorbed in trying to perfect all of the elements of my stroke.

On the way back, I stopped off at the club and was pleased to see some old faces among the new ones who had joined since I'd left. As much as I'd like to go back there, I very much regret that I won't be. The problem was that, due to my creaky knees, I could no longer get out of the boat unaided after a sortie - instead, I needed to be pulled out! This for me runs counter to everything I believe about rowing. For me, the essence of rowing is that the crew should act together - on and off the water - and they should all do the same things at the same time. For example, when the cox gives the order to get out, all oarsmen should get out as one.. I couldn't come to terms with being the odd one out who needed assistance - so that was the end of that. I started rowing at 14 and I'd always hoped that it was a sport I could practice all my life. It's quite frustrating because from the strictly rowing point of view, I believe I could hold my own - it was just the business of getting out of the boat that was the issue. 

At choir practice last night, we continued working on another Mozart piece (Laudate Dominum from "Vesperae solennes de Confessore" KV 330 Nr 5) that we're including in our forthcoming concert in June. (and no, this isn't us below!) The "heavy mob" makes its entrance at 2:37..!

1st April. Always glad to see the first three months of the year behind me. Unlike previous years when we've been subjected to more or less continuous rain, we've enjoyed a fairly dry Spring. So, no complaints from me!  

130. Jambon de Bayonne

18th March 2011. It's taken me 130 posts to get around to this..! Shame on me. Question of the Day: What is Bayonne justifiably famous for..? (apart from the bayonet) Yes - Jambon de Bayonne or Bayonne ham!

As you know by now, where there's a food speciality in France, you can guarantee that a Confrérie won't be far behind: 

.. and, this being the Pays Basque, that means a song!

This next clip looks like it was filmed at the annual Foire du Jambon de Bayonne. In my view, while I do eat it, I always find it a bit too thick for me as it is normally sliced by hand in the manner shown at 1:07:

In Italy, the prosciutto is sliced paper-thin on a machine such that it melts in the mouth. If only I could find someone to slice jambon de Bayonne wafer thin for me.

Jambon de Bayonne

Apparently pigs reared as far north as Poitiers can be used to make jambon de Bayonne. There's also a brand "Aoste" which many people assume to be prosciutto from Italy but is actually made in France. 

I encountered Prosciutto San Daniele in northern Italy and they eat it sliced very thinly there so that it melts in the mouth.. as seen at 3:09 in this clip.. and that's exactly how I used to bring it back from Italy when I was working there:

I'm reminded of the time I was in a Waitrose supermarket in England and standing at the delicatessen counter for something I noticed a large San Daniele ham hanging up on the wall with some other hams and salamis. I asked the girl if I could have 300gms of San Daniele ham and she looked at me with eyebrows raised.

"We don't have any of that sir," she said.

I said, "How about some from the ham hanging up behind you?"

She replied, "That's just a hollow plastic model for decoration.."

Aaaaagghh!

And while I remember, I was once at the meat counter in a Morrisons supermarket buying a leg of lamb and I asked the girl where it came from..

She replied, "The fridge.."
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Corsicans have a reputation in France for being somnolent, not too active and overfond of their siesta. The great French comic Fernandel, blessed with an instantly recognisable and naturally funny horse-like face, made fun of them in his song "Le Tango Corse".. (in which he describes the dance as "la sieste organisée..")

19th March 2011. Went up the river against a very strong current this morning in a coxed quad sculler of nenettes! We did a very enjoyable 12km (Running total: 500km). I've said it before but it's always a pleasure to row with the fairer sex as they're never slow in getting their oar in!

The rugby.. ah yes.. I did say in an earlier post that the Ireland v England 6 Nations rugby match had the potential to be a

and was it ever..! Ireland comprehensively outplayed Martin Johnson's emerging England team 24-8. England still finished top of the table and it will be a valuable lesson for them. Hopefully!

Scotland beat Italy 21-8 and France restored some pride with a 28-9 victory over Wales. It was odd watching the France-Wales match.. who did I want to win? Well played Ireland!

17. Noël

I was just saying to Madame the other day that so far we’ve seen no reference to the approach of Christmas in any of the shops – no towering displays of marzipan or jars of mincemeat or John Lennon singing “So this is Christmas”.. or Easter eggs in Woolworths. (now - unbelievably - closed for good in the UK I heard)

So imagine my surprise this morning when I heard on the radio the unmistakeable sound of 'Jingle Bells'…! It made me think – well here we are with less than 2 months to go to Christmas and still no Christmas Lights.. The French just don’t have a clue do they.. (irony!) I would guarantee that, for the last few weeks, supermarkets back home will already have been fully set up with dedicated aisles for such traditional English Christmas essentials as German Stollen bread, French marzipan, Belgian chocolates, Turkish delight, Italian panettone cakes and the like (we contribute the spuds!).. and deep freezes full of turkeys the size of small boulders..

One afternoon we went into Bayonne to a “Depôt Vente”. This is where you can take things to sell – mainly furniture.. The Depôt Vente sets the price and then takes a percentage of the proceeds. We went there looking to see what they had in the way of armoires. There were some in stock and while they were certainly cheaper than we’d seen in antique shops, it was fairly clear why. I think these are the kind of places that you need to drop in every week to see the new stock as it arrives - except that, like stuffing mushrooms, life is just too short for some things.

After this, it was starting to feel like evening so we came back. Madame had bought some chestnuts so we had these roasted with a cup of tea (living dangerously!).

For the French holiday on 1st November, we planned on going to Les Aldudes - a village buried in the Basque mountain country that straddles the entrance of a valley that, while it runs deep into Spain, is still French. The valley's chief claim to fame is that it produces arguably the best Jambon de Bayonne in the area. And, of course, many of the other products that the Basque cuisine is famous for.

There is a saying that some lofty Parisian food critics are fond of quoting that the only implement needed in a kitchen in the South West is - a tin opener! While this was meant as a clever put-down, nevertheless I think it does hit on a truth. Much of the great products of the South West can be preserved.. Think of confit de canard, foie gras, haricot beans in graisse d’oie (goose fat), rillettes, cassoulet and pipérade (though personally I have some doubts about this last one) et al... There isn't much that can't be put in a can or a jar - but it's none the worse for that. It's possible to buy all these products via mail order too!

Post visit report: Well, we had a great day out today high up in the Pyrenees.. First of all, the weather was supposed to be 3C in the morning warming up to 12C in the afternoon. Anyway, we set off and as we climbed up and up the skies cleared and we were gradually able to see the start of the high Pyrenees in the distance – the mountains near us were only about 2-3,000‘ high – further east, I think they go up to about 9,000’ or even higher. As we climbed, the full extent of the Pyrenees started to unfold in front of us.. and just when we thought we’d seen one high mountain, in the distance behind it, we’d see another even higher one - and in the blue misty distance behind that one, another one..

Les Aldudes

.. and yet another one beyond that. And all the time, the valley sides were getting steeper and steeper as we wound our way ever-upwards.. It was difficult to keep one eye on the driving with all this magnificent mountain scenery around us and at one moment, I thought I saw the pale outline of a snow-covered white peak that was higher than the rest, way way off in the distance and I thought, surely not, a snow covered peak so early in the season but on the regional news when we returned home they featured it too. First snow of the year in the Pyrenees..

Stirring mountain scenery and it was difficult to keep my eyes on the road as the country opened up before us. We ran up the valley on an old single track smuggler’s road that climbed up towards Spain and near the top we pulled over to eat our lunch.. I opened my window and looked out across the expanse of a great deep valley – white farmhouses with red roofs were dotted across the valley floor. It was through rugged border country like this that the men and women of the wartime Comet Line (organised by 24 year old Andrée De Jongh, a brave Belgian woman) famously helped Allied airmen to escape down from the Low Countries, through the occupied zone in France, across the Pyrenees into neutral Spain and home via British-controlled Gibraltar. In fact, in Sare, a Basque village close to the border, I recently discovered a newly placed memorial (below) to Victor Ithurria, a highly decorated and legendary figure who served in the SAS with great distinction during WWII before being killed on 25th August 1944..

I saw some large birds flying around in circles and I realised I was watching vultures (griffon vultures..) circling around in the air currents.. As I watched, I saw one furl its wings and dive down to the ground, followed by another, and another. Soon, there must have been 20-30 of them down there. Whatever was down there under a tree was getting a good pecking. Another British pensioner who won’t stop for a snooze after lunch again! We first saw them here a few years ago when we were up high in the mountains.. I remember thinking at the time, if I didn’t know better I’d swear they were vultures. When we got back to the hotel, they told us that, yes, there were quite a few vultures up in the hills.. Certainly makes you think twice about falling asleep in the sun after a good lunch..

We next came to a small village, ie, about 5 houses together, and one of them was a hotel with a restaurant. Out of interest we stopped to look at the lunch menu… it was £8 for a 4 course lunch…! (these are 1960 prices!) Next time we go up there, we might just try it. Anyway, we continued higher up the valley and soon we came to the border. There was no border as such – just a garage and a smoky café.. (smoking still being allowed indoors in Spain)

The countryside looked spectacularly good in its burnt copper autumn colours under a cloudless deep blue sky. After this, we went to St Jean Pied de Port. This is a very old town in the heart of the Pyrenees where Madame’s father’s family originated.

It’s on the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain. People still come from all over the world to walk the route. It was getting really warm now and after blocking various pavements for a while we found a tea shop and sat outside in the sun. Madame couldn’t believe that she was still wearing her sunglasses on 1st November..!

Main street of St Jean Pied de Port

Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port

At the moment, there’s still that holiday feel to life down here because we’re still "camping out" in the gîte with a minimum of our belongings. I just have the one English book and that’s “Out of Africa” - which I’ve read twice since we’ve been here - as all our books are in storage. As a compulsive reader, forgetting to pack a box of books in the van was a major mistake.

This is "Tarantella" by Hilaire Belloc.. (try reading it aloud)

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda?

Do you remember an Inn?

And the tedding and the spreading

Of the straw for a bedding,

And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,

And the wine that tasted of tar?

And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers

(Under the vine of the dark veranda?)

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda,

Do you remember an Inn?

And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers

Who hadn't got a penny,

And who weren't paying any,

And the hammer at the doors and the Din?

And the Hip! Hop! Hap! of the clap

Of the hands to the twirl and the swirl

Of the girl gone chancing, glancing, dancing,

Backing and advancing,

Snapping of a clapper to the spin

Out and in

And the Ting, Tong, Tang of the Guitar.

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda?

Do you remember an Inn?

There is another verse but I like this one.