280. Summer's here (almost)

30th June. We were out this evening at Saint-Jean-de-Luz to celebrate the passing of a major marital milestone - and we'd booked a table outside at Zoko Moko - a chic restaurant discreetly tucked away in a quiet street away from the hullabaloo of the nearby Place Louis XIV.. Zoko Moko is not somewhere to go to if your fancy is for a large steak that overhangs the plate with a mountain of pommes frites balanced precariously all around.. (although there is a time and a place for that!). No, the cuisine is of a refinement rarely seen. To single one dish out - we had lotte (monk fish) at one stage - it had been roasted crisp on one side and yet the inside was perfection. 

Terraced vines at the Domaine Mourguy, Ispoure

I must mention the red Irouléguy that I had - it was a name new to me - Domaine Mourguy - from Ispoure (outside Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port). This was liquid velvet on the tongue. I don't think it will be too long before we visit the farm. It left our usual Gorri d'Ansa Irouléguy in the shade. Domaine Mourguy is run by the brother and sister duo Pierre and Florence Mourguy at Ispoure.. congratulations to them! More on wines from the South West here (the name of Alain Brumont is one to remember for Madiran) 

    

28th June. The village of Biriatou is often neglected by visitors to the Pays Basque - and even by some of those who have lived in the area all their lives. It's said that if you find yourself in Biriatou, you either live there - or you're lost. It sits high up on the bluffs overlooking the Bidassoa river that separates France from Spain - and while the village could be described as a ribbon development along the river for some 4km, its actual centre is the Pays Basque in microcosm. 

In close proximity - all within a few yards - are all the elements necessary for a Basque village - a church (Saint-Martin), a Town Hall, a restaurant (Auberge Hiribarren*) and a fronton (for Pelote). It's a charming village with much to commend it. 

                 

* I'm pleased to be able to announce that the Auberge Hiribarren has re-opened under new management - and from all accounts it's better than ever (reviews here). Its central location couldn't be bettered and the views across the Bidassoa into Spain are exceptional.    

26th June.. We were invited for lunch yesterday by our neighbours in Bayonne - but it wasn't here, it was to be at their other house in the country set high up in the hills, through the Pas du Roland, outside Itxassou, and then up and up on a winding single track lane (complete with hairpin bends). It finished here at their stunning Basque farmhouse - with views - as estate agents are wont to say - to die for. The house was in an idyllic position high up on a valley side with a 180° view of a slice of forested Basque mountainside - with one only other farm visible high in the distance at the end of the valley.  

There were eight of us for lunch and we were sat outside in a small stone barn that had two walls removed so we had experience of eating al fresco - plus shelter if it rained.. They were such generous hosts - the bateau was well and truly pushed out.. I think we left at 5.30pm replete, with every nook and cranny filled, riding very low in the water with our thirsts totally assuaged - and still not hungry 18 hours later!      

YES! 

On Tuesday, R, a friend (a former Coldstreamer) from the Gers (just over 2 hours inland from here) came over with his two dogs. We'd met by chance at a small ceremony at the Cimetière des Anglais (more here) in 2019 and he and his wife had joined us for our annual Comet Line commemorative weekend later in the year. The small cemetery marked one of the two sites where an unnecessary night encounter had taken place (Napoleon having already abdicated) on 14th April 1814 between General Thouvenot's garrison of Bayonne and the Allied forces under the command of Lieutenant General John Hope, and in particular, the 1st Battalion, Coldstream Guards and 1st Battalion, 3rd Foot Guards. This night battle saw the kind of close quarter hand-to-hand fighting of the kind that doesn't bear thinking about. More here from the association "Bayonne 1814". 

Maintenance of these two British military cemeteries (the oldest known to be in existence) is surprisingly provided by support from Regimental funds. I would have thought that the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC) should have been charged with that small task - but sadly its remit is confined to those "men and women of the Commonwealth forces who died in the First and Second World Wars."    

Rupert Brooke's poem - "The Soldier" - could have been written with these two small cemeteries in mind.  

  

R and I had a good day out - after walking the dogs we went to the headland by the lighthouse at Biarritz and had a picnic lunch in some marginal shade under a hot sun! One glass of rosé each was all we could manage in the heat. Afterwards, we drove to the 2 cemetery sites to check on their condition. This is prime growing season for weeds - what with hot sun and rain showers. 

19th June. Politicians love to pretend that someone or something really belongs to us if they tag it the Peoples' whatever. Curiously, this affectation started in the 1930s when Hitler caused the VW Beetle (or Bug in the US) to come into being via a colossal scam that rivalled one of Victor Lustig's.. (aka the man who sold the Eiffel Tower - twice!). The German public were exhorted to make monthly payments towards a new Beetle - which many did - but none were ever delivered to the public before WWII came along. Anyway, be that as it may, Volkswagen = People's Car.      

Then there's the People's Republic of China. Not my flavour of the month right now. Wouldn't Republic of China been sufficient?

Princess Diana morphed swiftly into the People's Princess after her death in 1997 following a typically gushing tribute by Tony Blair, the then PM. 

Instead of asking for a second Brexit Referendum in an attempt to reverse the Parliamentary logjam caused by the outcome of the first one, those asking for a second vote demanded a People's Vote. It implies that the "man in the street" could make a more enlightened decision than those paid to do so at Westminster - plus a People's Vote no longer sounds like a second referendum (if you are hard of thinking).  

The latest example of this outbreak of cosiness comes from who else but the BBC with its podcast series entitled "Spitfire: The People's Plane". I wouldn't advise anyone with an interest in aviation to listen to this as it's tosh of the first water. Somehow the BBC has achieved the impossible - it's managed to turn the story of an inspirational aeroplane from solid gold into the purest of dross. The Spitfire made it into RAF service by the skin of its teeth (it had its detractors) - and then once in service, it outshone the more workmanlike Hurricane by its sheer presence and charisma. 

In this podcast, the Spitfire pilots take a back seat to typists and the like as Tuppence Middleton (her name tells you everything about her you need to know!) explains repeatedly that it was the "best fighter in the world". At various points in WWII, it may have been - but there were several contenders for that title - chief of which was the R-R Merlin-powered P-51D Mustang. This aircraft was undoubtedly in a class of its own. The rate of technological advance - especially in aircraft performance - was staggering in WWII and it should be remembered that the Spitfire first flew in March 1936 whereas the P-51D arrived in theatre some 8 years later in Spring 1944. 

If you know of any more People's Whatevers - please let me know. 

Back to the Pays Basque! (who said "At last.."?) 

17th June. Tomorrow, I'm off to a ceremony commemorating the 80th anniversary of General de Gaulle's broadcast to France on 18th June 1940. 

          

There's a new word that's come into common currency in the UK - particularly on BBC radio (home of political correctness) - and that's "nuanced". It seems that everything now is nuanced.. as it implies that their reporters have considered all the various shades of grey between the - gasp - black and white extremes. If only..  

Iconic has had its time in the sun.. Surely the time has come for it finally to be put to sleep? (along with eponymous)

15th June. Yesterday we were out reasonably early to go down to the Grande Plage at Biarritz to have a ringside seat in front of the ocean. It seemed a long time since we'd been to the Bleu Café there - and thinking about it, we worked out it must have been about 8-9 months ago. The usual waiter was there and he recognised us even with our masks on..

 

Afterwards, we decided to find a restaurant for lunch - somewhere with a terrace preferably and I thought of the Auberge d'Achtal at Arcangues. We sat out of the sun under the platanes and had a rare average lunch. I'd ordered pipérade with jambon de Bayonne. Apart from being unrecognisable as a pipérade (Madame's is the benchmark), it was so salty that I couldn't eat it. Sadly, I can't see us returning there.  

13th June. Louis de Funès was one of France's funniest comedians.. Here he is trying to teach a few gendarmes (one of whom is an officer) 'ow to spik Angliche:

10th June. I've mentioned the Place des Vosges here before as one of Paris's greatest hidden* attractions. If you haven't visited it, if it's still on your "to do" list, then one look at this video should be enough to convince you to go there. Before you do though, book a table for lunch or dinner (19.90€ for 2 course lunch or 33€ for 3 course dinner) at nearby Bofinger, the oldest brasserie in Paris. You can pay more and you can pay less - but I don't think it's possible to eat in such style at these prices anywhere else in Paris. (Dress accordingly.) The beauty of it is that after your lunch or your dinner, you can enjoy a leisurely stroll with your companion around the incomparable surroundings of the Place des Vosges.. only a couple of minutes away. A more romantic setting doesn't exist (in my view). 

It's advisable to make a reservation and when booking a table, ask to be seated under the dome - it's by far the best place. If it's your first time there, ask to see the set menu and when the waiter returns to take your order, if you are choosing from the fixed price menu, make sure he knows. (there's more about Bofinger in the restaurant map in the left hand column) If you arrive late, without having reserved a table, don't be surprised if you find yourself seated upstairs. 

* = hidden as in hidden in broad daylight.

         

7th June. I was down at the usual beach this morning with the hound and the car park was thick with cars.. and people changing into wetsuits. The surf community have their own social networks to alert each other of good surfing conditions - so once the essential order of business had been accomplished, we wandered down to the coastal path to see what was going on. I think there must have been 60 surfers in the water and the waves were of a height that I hadn't seen for months. Perhaps 3 metres high? Difficult to tell. There were groups of people on the beach warming up with the kind of movements associated with footballers..

    

.. and there were people arriving with surf boards on bicycles, motor scooters and I even saw a Renault Clio (a small car) with a surf board inside! And with all the windows closed too.   

2nd June. Gary Larson is one of my favourite cartoonists - and here's why:

Very few makers of videos about Biarritz manage to escape the sea front - but here's one who starts with a relaxed stroll about the Place Clemenceau before moving down to the Plage de la Côte des Basques and continuing on to the Plage du Port Vieux - then on around the coast to the Rocher de la Vierge. The walkway to the statue is usually closed off when there's major storm brewing as the seas here can be quite spectacular. At 23:25, the golden expanse of the Grande Plage is revealed.. with the supremely elegant terracotta shape of the Hotel du Palais in the hazy distance. Our favourite café (Bleu Café) shows up at 27:56 - where you have a grandstand view of the waves. The viewpoint then walks around the seaward side of the Hotel du Palais to arrive at the Plage du Miramar. After which follows the jewel in the crown - a visit to the Hotel du Palais at 32:17. 

As evening falls, the softly lit Hotel du Palais makes you believe that anything is possible. The tour resumes at the foot of the Rue Gambetta.. an area dotted with wine bars, cafés, restaurants, individual shops and the ever-present real estate agents - plus the indoor market - and Bar Jean.. another of our favourites. It appears that this was filmed during the last week of July as people - dressed in white and red and hot to trot - are boarding buses to travel to nearby Bayonne to take part in the Fêtes de Bayonne.. 

271. September in the Pays basque

30th September. I was watching the TV coverage of the funeral of former President Jacques Chirac from Saint-Sulpice when I heard this sublime piano piece being played. It's Schubert's Impromptu Op.142 (D.935) No.2 in A flat Major - played here by Daniel Barenboim and I later learned that it was President Macron himself who had been inspired to select both the piece and Daniel Barenboim's interpretation of it. The same piece was repeated over the images of the hearse as it drove away through the eternal streets of Paris, preceded by a phalanx of police motorcyclists. Very moving.

An avuncular figure, Jacques Chirac was renowned for his love of France and her people, and to many here he epitomised all that was good about France and he was well-liked across the political spectrum. He was equally at home at the Elysée Palace or at the annual Salon International de l'Agriculture at the Paris expo Porte de Versailles where he clearly took great pleasure in many of the things that France is noted for - including two of my personal no-go areas: andouillette and tête de veau. On occasion he would stay at Biarritz and reportedly would walk down from his hotel (Le Miramar) to the Hotel du Palais for a gin and tonic. Thinking about it, I thought that he had much in common with that great American president Ronald Reagan. 

Jacques Chirac 1932 - 2019

Schubert is a composer whose works I've completely overlooked. Here's Vladimir Horowitz with Schubert's Impromptu in G flat Op. 90 No. 3..

29th September. It was a beautiful September morning here in the Pays Basque and where better to spend it than at the Bleu Café, Biarritz contemplating the endless Atlantic breakers. A silvery mist hung over the town this morning and it seemed to add sparkle to the scene:

28th September. In mid-August, we had a break in the stunning Ossau valley.. to the south east of here. Take a look at these images of this majestic landscape which is off the tourist trail. Robert Frost summed it up best:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Last December we were in Bordeaux in connection with my application for French citizenship (which came through by the way) and we stopped for lunch at Ragazzi da Peppone - one of the most authentic Italian restaurants I've been in. I noticed the other day that a branch has opened in Bayonne and if it's anything like its parent restaurant up at Bordeaux, we'll soon be regulars! Here are some reviews..

27th September. Time for a bit of Django..

26th September. In the 2019 Rugby World Cup being held in Japan, England played the USA in what turned out to be a mighty physical clash.. There was much "beef on the hoof" on show from both sides and there were more than a few ground-shuddering tackles that must have registered on a Richter scale somewhere. 

Piers Francis (Eng) was cited after the match for a high tackle on Will Hooley in the opening seconds that left the American full-back concussed. Meanwhile John Quill (USA) was sent off later on the game for a high tackle on Owen Farrell. 

England ran out convincing winners and I think they were fortunate to emerge unscathed. They're still making more handling errors than they should (said he from his armchair) but in their defence the ball was clearly slippery. They put some excellent moves together that, with a bit more assuredness, would have resulted in a bigger scoreline. But - let's not be greedy - this was a good win against a powerful American side. 

Here's a beautiful early morning shot of Bayonne looking south towards the misty Pyrenees.. showing the confluence of the Nive in the centre with the mighty Adour flowing from the left towards the open sea. The boat (right) soaking up the sunshine is a floating restaurant (still on our "to do" list after 12 years) with the colonnaded Town Hall behind it. Click to enlarge!

Sorry to have left the blog on the back burner for the past few weeks - but I've been very busy in the aftermath of the recent commemorative Comète weekend - so, like the mayor of Pompeii in 79AD, I'm waiting for the dust to settle. Innumerable emails in and out, photographs to gather and videos to piece together - plus I've got a symposium coming up in October on the subject of escape/evasion lines in and around the Pyrenees.. and much preparation work is required for that.

   

7th September. Nutty (our cocker spaniel) has discovered a small colony of lizards in the garden and he's become obsessed with trying to catch them. They lie immobile on our hot pebbled paths soaking up the heat only to take off in a frenzied blur when he charges up at them. He's way off the mark but that doesn't stop him in his latest obsession.

There was a letter in today's Daily Telegraph that caught my eye:

SIR – What country in its right mind would want to leave the world’s largest trading bloc and risk financial ruin by going it alone without a deal? What country, attempting to hold together a union of disparate political entities, would risk that union when many of its inhabitants do not support the break-up in the first place? What country’s leaders would be prepared to take a reckless leap into the unknown in the illusory hope of a brighter, more prosperous future, free from outside interference?

The answer, of course, is the United States in 1776.

They must have been insane.

Nicholas Young

London W13

6th September. Life has been increasingly hectic here with the imminent approach of one of the highlights of the year - yes, it's time for the annual commemorative Comet Line weekend in the Pays basque that will take place 13th - 15th September.. I've been busy translating innumerable speeches and preparing this, that and the other.

In the meantime, here's a long programme that features some of the most beautiful squares in Paris. If the commentary is distracting, just turn the volume down a tad. One particular favourite of ours is the Place des Vosges. If you want to go there directly, start at 23.47..

The square makes a defining statement about the French love of control of Nature, of planned formality, of "statement" architecture, of order and precision - and, in my view, a fundamental distrust of anything that looks unplanned by the hand of Man. In a nation sometimes seen as unruly and indisciplined, this square reveals and underlines a fundamental contradiction in the French character - a desire for order and symmetry in a disorderly and asymmetric world. This may be one of the reasons why they consistently fail to understand the occasional anarchic shenanigans of British politics! (like the rest of us then!)

We like the Place des Vosges for personal, entirely different, reasons! It's a fascinating place to walk around under the colonnaded arches - I'm not the world's best shopper by any means but there are some individual shops, galleries, restaurants and cafés there that repay closer inspection. Once there, there's a sense that you're in an oasis of calm. The centre of the square is formal - but despite that, it's one of our favourite places - and it's an ideal spot to ask someone a question. Enough. As the presenter rightly says, it's a place that's easy to overlook if you don't know it's there. See what you think:

1st September. If there's a month in which to visit the Pays basque and experience it at its very best - it's September. I realise I could be pushing my luck saying this but the weather is generally stable with average temperatures of 25°C; the sea is still warm; those seasonal visitors with children of school age have returned home - and finding a parking space in the same time zone as the place you are visiting becomes possible - maybe!    

39. Back at the ranch

16th January 2010. That sound you can hear is the last of the dust settling following Christmas and New Year.. We’re now back to our old routine.. no more champagne to drink, no more foie gras or galettes to eat. The trouble was that we stayed with 4 sets of friends in 9 days in and around Paris and each time we arrived at a new temporary 'home', the fatted calf would be killed anew and more bottles would be opened, with the result that when we finally returned home on New Years Day we were both feeling just that little bit jaded and desperately wanting to eat lightly for a few days.

That resolution lasted only 5 minutes once we got home.. because it was 5 minutes after opening the front door that I thought to check our mail box. The facteur (postman) has a master key to it and this explains how a fully formed Christmas Pudding (a kind thought from a friend in England) was found to be lurking in there.. along with all the other mail. Yes, a Christmas pudding - the one thing I hadn’t eaten over Christmas! So it was on the following Sunday that we nobly sacrificed ourselves to appease Ye Olde English Christmas Pudding Gods. The pudding was heated, hot brandy poured over it (“we have ignition..!”) and all conversation ceased for a few glorious minutes.. As always, the French have an apt expression for this moment: "Un ange passe". All was well with the world again. We retired early with snoring high on the agenda..

I could have done with this diagram on Christmas Eve - not having worn a tie for months!

Looking back over the holidays, I remember feeling 'hard done by' on Christmas Day.. With it being France, we had our Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve with O - Madame's brother - and F - his wife - and their family.. and it was excellent indeed. O knows his wine too and he offered us a wonderful Bordeaux.. The following day at 3pm, we sat down to a light lunch as we were going to be eating for Queen & Country later in the evening. This is where the mind can play terrible tricks.. I remember thinking that, at that very moment, upwards of 10 million sizzling golden brown roast turkeys were sliding out of ovens all over Britain. The fact that we’d dined like kings the night before was temporarily forgotten. As I said, it was just a passing thought born out of years of conditioning. What was it that Hemingway said about Christmas? - that "you don't know what Christmas is until you lose it in some foreign land". There is some truth in that. Although we'd eaten royally (or should that be republicanly if there is such a word?) on Christmas Eve, I did feel a sense of seasonal deprivation on Christmas Day in the Vittles Department, if only for a few moments.

Earlier on Christmas Day, we'd gone with F to the outdoor market in nearby Saint-Germain-en-Laye which to my complete surprise was open and busy. Quite a few shops were open as well. This is a manicured little town (now effectively an outer suburb of Paris) that is clearly a very desirable place to hang one's chapeau.

On Boxing Day, we’d been invited to F's sister in the afternoon. They live in the 9th arrondissement in Paris in one of those old apartment blocks that always look so inviting. Entering Paris from the north (Porte de la Chapelle) and driving through an ‘ethnic’ part of Paris, you could have been forgiven for thinking that we were in downtown Baghdad. We fought our way through the traffic and arrived at the address (just north of Pigalle). It was such a stylish flat with its polished parquet floors with decorative moulding on the walls and ceilings. Following hard on the heels of another outbreak of handshakes and cheek kissing all round on arrival, there was the unmistakeable sound of champagne corks being popped.. (again!)

More delights followed in the form of those little multi-coloured ‘macarons’ and other chocolatey nibbles. We had to leave fairly soon afterwards as we were expected at A’s, our second ‘home’ for the next couple of days in La Varenne-Saint-Hilaire, on the south east edge of Paris on the banks of the River Marne. 

I thought I’d trust the GPS to guide us through Paris – big mistake! We ended up stuck in heavy traffic before emerging to graze Boulevard Haussmann just at the point where the major department stores Galeries Lafayette and Printemps (left) are located. Fortunately, the chosen route led us away around La Madeleine (right) and then from there, an unexpected bonus, along the expressway along the banks of the Seine with its stunning views across to the Left Bank. It lifted our spirits to see again the city we love, the city that's full of memories for us. And, in the slanting late afternoon light, it really did look like what it is - the most beautiful city in the world. (OK, who's the comedian who said "After Birkenhead.."?)

With A, we walked along the banks of the Marne, lined with trophy houses, including the one where Charles Trénet’s mother lived. If you don’t know Charles Trénet (shame on you!), he wrote & recorded “La Mer” in 1946 - well before Bobby Darin’s English version came out in 1960. (Wait for it... "Who's Bobby Darin..?")

We walked down to A’s local market and I must say that I’ve not seen a better one. Food markets in the Pays Basque are very regional & very Basque with few, if any, outside influences. In genteel St-Maur, with it being Paris, all tastes and regions of France were represented and catered for and the meat, poultry, cheese and fish stands were a real treat for the eyes. A’s 2 sons were visiting – the elder being Madame’s godson – and we enjoyed catching up with them.

After a couple of days with A, we moved back into central Paris to stay with N – Madame’s copine of old – and A, who live in the 11th in a chic top floor flat with a terrace, not far from the Place de la Bastille. This is a lively area, full of arty workshops and designers who’ve been allowed by the Ville de Paris to establish themselves in the curved spaces beneath a long viaduct. We walked along this fascinating row of avant-garde ateliers (workshops), studios and galleries heading for the Place Bastille and then to the Place des Vosges (above & right) in the Marais. We walked around the square in the cover of the galleries before stopping for a hot wine to keep the cold at bay. We sat outside a café under a heater and gradually warmed up. This is one of our favourite places in Paris for many reasons and we always find ourselves homing in on this particular spot. Chekhov said it best: "The golden moments pass, and leave no trace."

I make no apologies for this next one - one of the greatest songs ever written:

 

The next day, we had a tasty lunch at a local Chinese restaurant in the 11th before leaving Chibby (our golden cocker spaniel) with N & A (as dogs aren’t allowed in the Métro) while we went off for a walk up the Champs Elysées. Privately we were already starting to miss the sea air of the Pays Basque and the sea side. 

When I first set foot in the Champs Elysées in the mid-sixties, it - and Milan - were undeniably the style capitals of the world and the ne plus ultra of luxury shopping in western Europe. The broad pavements were also the territory of some spectacularly beautiful nanas, either cruising or stepping hither and thither from one luxury shop to the next. 

Over the years, the general malaise in the standards of western society saw a decline in the fortunes of these emporia for the excessively wealthy as street fashion now largely dominates the pavements. When we were there, it seemed that every man and his dog was out there walking up and down – and many of them were in baggy jeans and back-to-front (ooh trendy) baseball caps. And to crown it all, white painted Christmas market stalls selling imported tat had been set up lower down the grand Avenue. I never thought I'd live to see it. I'd've thought anywhere but here. We walked past the Drugstore (above left) at the top of the Champs Elysées. This is the Drugstore in its current incarnation (right) – OK for the fairground at Southend perhaps but at the top end of the Champs Elysées..? I'd call it council-sponsored vandalism. In Paris, the lunatics are now officially running the asylum. We decided we'd escape the madding crowd and so we circumnavigated the Arc de Triomphe and it was with a great sense of relief we headed off down into the tranquillity of the Avenue Victor Hugo in the 16th. This was a different world.

At one point I spotted a stylish restaurant across the road and I realised I was looking at Prunier – the classic seafood restaurant of Paris that dates waay back. I think it’s fair to say that its heyday was probably in the Golden Age but I’d still give my right arm to have lunch there.

I found myself standing outside a shop for gents like wot I am and, looking in the window, I saw quite a few things I liked. Stepping inside, Madame said I was looking for a jacket. After a single practised look at me, the owner reached into a rail of jackets, selected one and held it open for me to try. It fitted as though made for me. I don’t think we spent more than 10 minutes inside the shop. My kind of shopping!

We went into a few shops looking for things for Madame but without much luck.

This area of Paris is almost like a village – only a few minutes walk from the Arc de Triomphe but a haven of peace and calm. I shudder to think what an apartment there would cost.. As the old saying has it: if you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it. And with that, with night fast approaching, we headed back to N & A’s.

You’ll have to look elsewhere to find out how Johnny (Halliday) is doing.. he’s been headline news for weeks now in France with a near-death experience in Los Angeles due to medical complications arising from an 'op' he'd had in Paris. And then there was the Euro-tunnel fiasco with trains marooned for hours. I didn’t see an English newspaper but I’m sure that more than one of the tabloids would have been unable to resist that old headline: “Tunnel shut-down; Continent isolated..”

To round off our stay in Paris, here’s the incomparable Yves Montand singing Les Feuilles Mortes.. (Autumn leaves in the English version). Enjoy..

  

Places to go? An ideal day would start with an 'apero' (aka attitude adjuster, bracer, snifter, heart starter..) at Au Franc Pinot on the Ile St-Louis before walking to the Taverne Henri IV (13 Place du Pont Neuf) for a light lunch. Try their rillettes de canard (right) with some crusty bread and a glass (or two) of Madiran. In the afternoon, head across to the Place des Vosges area for a mooch around the galleries, cafes and shops various before dinner at Bofinger, just off Place de la Bastille. This is the oldest brasserie in Paris and you may need to book. Tip: ask (demand!) to be seated downstairs under the dome. Try their excellent fixed price 3 course menu - which used to include wine. (It was the equivalent of £18 for years - menus here) After that, stroll down to the Latin Quarter for a rhum or two at the Rhumerie. There's always the Slow Club to finish off with..

Aide memoire!
Start: Au Franc Pinot. 1, Quai de Bourbon. (A while since I was last here - heard it had closed - now believed to have re-opened. Might be worth one visit)

Lunch (or a long afternoon!): Taverne Henri IV.
Dinner: Bofinger.
Drinks after: Rhumerie.
Finish: Slow Club. You're on your own now..!

It occurred to me the other day that Woody Allen nailed the essence of New York with the opening credits of his film "Manhattan" - the marriage of images and music (courtesy of George Gershwin) has never been bettered. Has something similar ever been done for Paris? And if not, why not? Here's a reminder:

Edited to add: Woody Allen put together some great images of Paris to open his 2011 film 'Midnight in Paris'. Well worth enjoying if you haven't seen it.   

Three down, one to go..! Our final stop before returning home was at Tours but we thought we’d go via the cemetery at Chartres – to pay our respects to Madame’s father & mother. The family grave is well situated in a beautifully maintained cemetery with a splendid view of the great cathedral which soars up to dominate the landscape for many miles around. It’s not a sad place - it’s not overgrown with moss or ivy – and as a final resting place it’s hard to think of one better.

We had a problem when it came to leave Chartres in that it seemed to be in a ‘black hole’ as far as the GPS was concerned! Unable to get a signal, we battled our way around the tangled inner parts of the town which were already starting to clog up with the early evening traffic. I think it took us a good 30 minutes to leave Chartres behind and get established on the road for Tours where fortunately the GPS kicked in once again. The temperature was just above freezing and as we approached Tours I could see a classic “line squall” developing fast out to the west. One half of the sky was black as pitch while the other was a benign early evening blue. Suddenly, there was a deluge of rain and gusts of wind - the noise in the car was deafening and all road markings disappeared. The sheer volume of water that came down was astonishing but gradually it tailed off and we breathed a sigh of relief.

At Tours, we stayed with our good friends J-M and M. Two years earlier we’d broken our journey with them overnight on the way south when we moved down from England. It was lovely to see them again and on New Year’s Eve, we took a walk along the Loire on a bright but bitterly cold afternoon. He’d bought his boys a Wii thing, a Beatles program with a couple of ‘modded’ guitars but he was suspiciously well practised at playing along with the Beatles..!! All too soon it was New Year’s day and time to leave again and head south.

The wintry weather we’d had in Paris extended as far south as Tours and we were both feeling the cold. As we drove south towards the Pays Basque though, we saw the first breaks in the cloud and before long we were under a cloudless sky and the temperatures started to rise.

And when we finally turned off the autoroute at Bayonne and crossed the familiar bridge over the Adour, it seemed like we hadn’t been away. Beautiful, grand and invigorating though Paris is, we were glad to be back home in the south west, in the Pays Basque.

It struck me in the wee small hours this morning that I haven’t really said much about the ‘gastronomique’ specialities of the Pays Basque. In my view, it’s a significant part of what makes this corner of France so special.

Speaking of which: