197. Days of wine and roses

8th November 2012. We decided to have lunch out in Bayonne yesterday and we had in mind a place on the banks of the Nive. It was so warm we found a table outside and sat out there in the dazzling sunshine - I had to take my jacket off. We'd had pizzas here before and they were comparable to ones we'd enjoyed in Italy - so we ordered and leaned back, savouring the November day with the help of a carafe of red wine. Looking down, fat grey mullet were holding station easily against the gentle current with lazy flicks of their tails as they waited for any stray offerings from above. After the pizzas, we had pain perdu with ice cream.. followed by coffee. Occasionally we contemplate living up in the mountains in the Jura but then we'd never have days like these. Ernest Dowson said it best:

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:

Out of a misty dream

Our path emerges for a while, then closes

Within a dream.

Slowly, the approach of Christmas is felt. It does seem strange to be thinking of setting one's mind in seasonal mode amid sunny blue skies but we've already ordered Christmas cards from the UK. Sending Christmas cards in France - or indeed greetings cards of most kinds - is not as widespread a practice as it is across the Channel. Here, people are accustomed to send each other New Year cards instead  - usually in the first few weeks of January - so the few card shops there are here stock a limited choice of Christmas cards.

Yesterday I noticed a small group of army officers in combat clothing from the Special Forces barracks across the river standing in front of the War Memorial in Bayonne (above) finalising the detailed planning for the Armistice parade on Sunday. I always try and attend this if I'm able. There's something about the Marseillaise when it's played on trumpets accompanied by the dry rattle of sidedrums that stands my hair on end and raises goose bumps.

12th November 2012. Went down to the river this morning - apparently there's a Monday morning group who go out then. There were a whole lot of new faces there - ones who don't do Saturday mornings. Went out in a coxless IV - I was stroke - and we took it up the river in brilliant sunshine. Apart from the blazing yellows and reds of the trees, it was hard to believe that it was November. Coming back, our wake was gilded by the low sun - absolutely perfect. We did about 11km.

My Banjo for Dummies book arrived this morning - I've been struggling with the 5 string banjo for a while and I think this book might just hold the answer. Fingers crossed! (Hey - maybe that's what I've been doing wrong!)

Banjo players appear to be the butt of jokes - see here for details.

What have I started..??!!    

18th November 2012. Hard to believe that Christmas is next month. We've been incredibly fortunate with the weather in November - it was 24°C on Friday. One November a couple of years ago, we had rain every day for a month so Nature's largesse this time around is very welcome. Had a memorable outing on the river yesterday - with the mild autumn weather there was a large turnout and we were able to put 2 VIIIs and 3 IVs out on the water. In addition, I was paired with a very fit 'regular' (half my age!) in a double sculler and despite all the confusion of boats and people we managed to slip away without getting caught up and delayed in all the hurly-burly - which is not always easy. There was a strong seawards current running as we headed off up-river. I was 'stroke' and right from the start the boat was balanced and it felt good. It wasn't long before all the other boats disappeared from sight as we found a good rhythm. We had a quick stop to remove our warm-up tops and then we set to the task. The boat ran straight and it was soon singing with the stern buried in our bubbling wake. We reached the turn around point and had a drink of water with no sign of any of the other boats. Heading back downstream again, the boat really flew and it wasn't long before we passed the others who were still labouring up-river. We finished with a sprint and all too soon we were back at the 'garage' (clubhouse) after a non-stop row feeling very pleased with ourselves. A very enjoyable 14kms.

Here's an atmospheric shot of a sculler enjoying an evening out on the upper reaches of the Nive: 

At the end of the month, the Loisirs (Leisure) Section of the club is planning another apéro evening at Tipi-Tapa - a peña (bar) in a casemate set into Vauban's ramparts that encircle Bayonne. We had one here earlier in the year and it was v enjoyable.. once we'd found it! It wasn't just drinks - this being France, there were tables laden with charcuterie, cheeses, bread and other bits and pieces. 

I don't know if peñas are allowed elsewhere in France but here it seems that just about anyone can open up a temporary bar. This relaxed attitude towards the serving of alcohol is in stark contrast with the highly regulated apparatus of obtaining and keeping a drinks licence in the UK. I'm sure the UK Home Office would throw a major wobbly if they were to witness the number of bars that proliferate during the Fêtes de Bayonne for example. And yet, in 5 years here, I've yet to see anyone staggering and/or lurching through the streets here. It's not well-considered to be seen to be "off your head" here, unlike the UK where getting "completely relaxed (as a newt)" is a regular weekly occurrence for an increasing number. As I've said before, northern Europeans have a different attitude to alcohol compared to those in the south, where a natural joie de vivre lies close to the surface. Unlike us more buttoned up northerners, here in the south they need little in the way of artificial encouragement for it to emerge. As the sole representative of northern Europe at the club, I will be doing my best to consume avec modération!

Here's Joe Dassin with an old favourite:

      

The clip above reminded me that I mentioned Paris a few posts ago - remember? (Post 188) Well, if you ever do decide to go there, after you've seen all the sights, here's a little-known suggestion for you to tuck away in your hip pocket.

Galérie Vivienne (Est 1823)

Paris has a number of covered shopping arcades that are home to an eclectic range of small shops. There's a list of them here and they are a perfect way of spending a rainy afternoon. (quiet in the cheap seats!☺) These arcades are home to many genuinely interesting shops - and it's not often you'll hear me say that! Specialist bookshops, antique maps, prints, old clock shops, intimate cafés, musical instruments, restorers, curios, objets d'art, the range and choice is endlessly fascinating. (NB: Best in full screen and 1080p HD!)

By the way, if you would like to add a comment about how reading this blog has been a life-changing experience for you (dream on!☺) then  click here, scroll down and give vent to your views (all in a good cause!)  Phrases such as "Laugh? I almost did.." and "Be still my aching sides" won't get used I'm afraid..☺ 

35. Seasonal thoughts

At this time of the year, our thoughts are inevitably drifting towards Christmas. We're going to be staying with family and friends in and around Paris over Christmas and the New Year and we've been thinking of what we can bring them.. One thing springs to mind as a "cannot fail" crowd-pleaser and that's champagne. The famous quote by Tante Lily Bollinger (right) of the eponymous champagne house says it all.. In reply to the question posed by a Daily Mail journalist, "When do you drink champagne?" - she offered this very memorable answer:

"I only drink champagne when I'm happy, and when I'm sad. Sometimes I drink it when I'm alone. When I have company, I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I am not hungry and drink it when I am. Otherwise I never touch it - unless I'm thirsty."

I wouldn't argue with a single word of that.. except to add I wish I could afford such largesse!!

The following summer after Madame and I were married, we were driving back up to England from the Pays Basque after our first holiday together there and we'd been invited to break the journey with P & A, two of her good friends. P was the marketing manager for Mumm champagne.. (you can see where this is going already can't you!) Anyway, we arrived at their lovely house at St-Maur on the banks of La Marne just outside Paris in the late afternoon to find P & A sat around a table in their garden with their two boys. After much vigorous kissing and handshaking, P disappeared inside the house, emerging moments later with a bottle of Mumm and some glasses.

"Pop" went the cork, glasses were clinked, toasts were drunk and Madame and I soon started to unwind after the long hot drive from the Pays Basque. It wasn't long before the bottle was "morte" and P went off to fetch another.. I'd not been accustomed to drinking champagne in quantity before - normally, a glass or two at a wedding, or maybe a bottle between friends... but this was different. P seemed to have an unlimited supply of the stuff in his cellar because when we went inside for dinner, another bottle appeared on the table. And I think another one or two after that. In fact, we drank nothing else from the time we arrived to when we finally (much later) crawled gratefully up the stairs to bed.

With it being available in such quantity, I felt able to experiment with different methods of drinking it. Firstly, the discreet economical sip (as practised at weddings - when there's some doubt as to whether or not there's going to be a refill). Then there's the "go for it" method, taking a large un-English mouthful and gulping it down. Or filling one cheek and squirting it from side to side.. Or, as in a personal fantasy of mine, filling a washing up bowl with champagne and going face-down in it! (one of these days!) The possibilities were endless.. This was another one of those "I could get used to this" moments. The perfect drink on a warm summer's evening.

I remember once overhearing a couple of women re-stocking the drinks shelves at a supermarket in England. One said to the other, "What do you think of champagne..?" to which her friend replied, "Well, it's only glorified apple juice innit.." I must be honest: years ago I never used to be that struck on it because my experience of it was limited to sipping it warm at wedding receptions.

If, for some reason, I had to be limited to only one drink for the rest of my life, it would be champagne. I just wish I could afford to indulge in a bottle* every day as Winston Churchill is reputed to have done.

* Winston's favourite was Pol Roger.

Other champagne-related quotes - but who said 'em? (Answers below)

1. Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.

2. In victory, you deserve Champagne, in defeat, you need it.

3. There comes a time in every woman's life when the only thing that helps is a glass of champagne.

4. Champagne is the only wine that leaves a woman beautiful after drinking it.

5. Champagne's funny stuff. I'm used to whiskey. Whiskey is a slap on the back, and champagne's a heavy mist before my eyes.

6. My only regret is that I did not drink more Champagne.

7. I drink champagne when I win, to celebrate . . . and I drink champagne when I lose, to console myself.

8. The feeling of friendship is like that of being comfortably filled with roast beef; love is like being enlivened with Champagne.

9. In success you deserve it, and in defeat you need it.

10. I'm only a beer teetotaller, not a champagne teetotaller. I don't like beer.

Finally: how not to open a bottle of champagne:

Although why not!! Now where did I put that washing up bowl..?

________________________________________________

Answers:
1. Dorothy Parker
2. Napoleon
3. Bette Davis (from the movie Old Acquaintance)
4. Madame De Pompadour
5. James Stewart (from the movie The Philadelphia Story)
6. Lord Maynard Keynes, on his deathbed
7. Napoleon Bonaparte
8. Samuel Johnson
9. Winston Churchill (sounds like no 2 to me!)
10. George Bernard Shaw

33. Christmas countdown..

25th November 2009. With the erection of 40 or so wooden chalets (aka garden sheds) in front of the Hôtel de Ville in Bayonne - ready for the Christmas market - there's now no hiding from the fact that Christmas is coming. The lights aren't up yet though.

When I was over in England in September, the previously mentioned Major Bloodnok was kind enough to make me a present of 2 large Christmas puddings. They've been sat in the cellar ever since and each time I go down there I'm tempted to bring one up into the light of day and sweet-talk Madame into heating one up. (Fat chance!) She does like them - but only at Christmas. (Rats!) I think that, as a food item, appreciation of them is usually limited to those of an Anglo Saxon origin. We're going up to Paris to stay with Madame's brother for a few days over Christmas and, for a few crazy moments, I thought that one of the Pudding Brothers would make an excellent contribution to the Christmas fare. That is, until the mental image of a table full of chauvinistic Gauls swam across my mind - each regarding their steaming slice of pudding with the utmost suspicion, poking and prodding it with looks of disdain as if it were still alive.. reluctantly tasting a morsel that could be harbouring e-coli at the very least. And this from a nation wot eats andouillette!! No, I don't think I'll bother. The French have a great expression for this: donner de la confiture aux cochons.. or to give jam to pigs!

At the risk of annoying those who live to the north, I must mention the unseasonably good weather we've been enjoying here for the last week (after the storms!). Temps of 24C and today it must be ~18-20C.. with matching blue skies.

With my knees giving me gyp at the moment, it's clear that our Golf is too small for us (ie, me) if we want to visit Tante S, Madame's auntie who lives in the Jura near the Swiss border (830kms away) as well as doing any long trips of exploration into Spain and Italy. After an hour's driving, I need to extend my legs which, in the Golf, I'm unable to do. So for the last few months we've been looking at all the options. We've test driven all kinds of cars and now we've homed in on the VW Tiguan as being the most suitable. With a little luck we should have one in time for our Christmas jaunt up to Paris..

Mentioning Tante S reminds me of the time when she and her now late husband were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary one summer in the mid 90s. They'd decided to have a celebratory dinner and had invited a representative from each part of the extended family (to keep the numbers down to a manageable level) and so we came to be invited. We'd planned our annual visit to the Pays Basque such that at the end of it we could drive up & across to the Jura to arrive in time..

We wanted to avoid the boredom of the autoroutes so we thought we'd simply "straight-line it" across France - going by the Departmentale* roads - thus seeing a bit more of the country. After driving all day on lonely roads through mountains, forests and villages we stopped overnight at a village called Bourganeuf (between Limoges and Clermont-Ferrand) which is as near as dammit in the centre of France. We quickly dropped our bags in a 2* "Logis" hotel in the centre and then went out for a swift leg stretch before dinner. I remember being amazed to find a fish shop still open at 7pm. What's more, the display of gleaming fish on ice under the lights looked as fresh as could be and - remember - this was in a village 200 miles from the coast..!

We returned to the hotel and went into the cosy and heavily beamed dining room. Looking around, it was clear that this was the real France (aka la France profonde). After browsing the menu for a few minutes I realised that this was somewhere that took its food seriously. All the classic dishes were there. Madame often says that food is the second religion in France but I'd go further and say it's the first - as more people go to restaurants than go to church. Looking through the wine list I couldn't believe what I was seeing - most of the wine was priced at somewhere between £200 and £800 a bottle.. There were some fabled wines there that I'd only read about - Château Palmer, Château Gruaud-Larose, Château Haut-Brion and Château Yquem - and this in a un cheval village in the middle of nowhere.. Who was buying this? Needless to say, we had a bottle of something far more modest!

/to be continued..

* Autoroutes (motorways) are A roads.. as in the A63 from Bayonne to Bordeaux (UK equivalents? The M1, M5, M6 etc).

Nationale roads are N roads (as in N7) - these equate to the A roads in the UK.

Departmentale roads are D roads - and are equivalent to the UK's B roads.

Hope that's cleared up any confusion there may have been!