265. Fun and games at San Sebastian..

31st March. We opened a bottle of Egiategia Dena Dela white wine - a present from a friend - at lunchtime.. What's so special about it, I hear you ask? Well, it's aged under the sea at Ciboure, across the bay from Saint-Jean-de-Luz. More here.

It was OK, though quite acidic (he said, damning it with faint praise) but I must admit that I'm struggling trying to imagine what the benefit of underwater ageing could be.
Nutty, our ever-hungry cocker spaniel, was delighted by the arrival of Summer time - as it meant that he didn't have to wait so long for his breakfast. As he only eats twice a day, this was a major, and very welcome, change to his daily routine.

30th March. We've just started rehearsing Mozart's Ave Verum Corpus for our upcoming concert in June. It's a sublime piece and some of the harmonies make me shiver. Enjoy the Choir of King's College, Cambridge.

 

Meanwhile, back in the world of politics, here's Dr Alice Weidel - the leader of Germany's Alternative for Germany (AfD) party) - making much sense in the Bundestag the other day:

I should add that while I agree with Dr Weidel's remarks in this context, that shouldn't be taken as my blanket approval of AfD's other policies. The media is labelling AfD as a far right/extreme right party and that's enough to ring alarm bells everywhere - but especially in Germany.

Railing against architect Peter Eisenman’s Holocaust memorial next to Berlin’s Brandenburg Gate, the AfD delegate Björn Höcke last year said that “we Germans are the only people in the world that have planted a monument of shame in the heart of their capital”. My reply to that would be that Germany is one of the very few countries in the world that needed one.

Moving on.

If Brexit had gone to plan, this morning we would have woken up as citizens of a free and independent country - content to stroll on the "broad sunlit uplands" while our MPs scratched their heads, trying to remember how to govern it. After all, it's been 43 years since they last had the opportunity! It's impossible to make any sensible predictions about what the future holds until Parliament finds a way out of the convoluted mess that we are in.

I think the EU must share part of the blame though - its negotiating team had clearly been directed to make things as difficult as possible for the UK. I, for one, would like to see an itemised statement of our account that could possibly justify the swingeing £39bn divorce bill the EU is intent on imposing on the UK.

To give you an indication of the size of this sum, it's enough to buy 481 brand new Boeing 737-800 airliners (similar to these right) at US $106m or £81m each. Yes, that's right - four hundred and eighty one of them. Is the EU including a figure for "hurt feelings" in this bill? What on earth has the UK been agreeing to fund?

In March 2017, the House of Lords’ European Union committee reported that generous payments might be “impossible” to avoid, for example to ensure future access to the single market. But it went on to say: “We conclude that if agreement is not reached, all EU law — including provisions concerning ongoing financial contributions . . . will cease to apply and the UK would be subject to no enforceable obligation to make any financial contribution at all.”

It should be borne in mind that the UK entered this organisation freely and of its own will following a democratic referendum. Throughout our membership we have been a net contributor. We now wish to leave following another democratic referendum (only the third national referendum in the UK's history). So - my question is: why do our EU "Friends and Partners" feel the need for a punitive settlement? What exactly are we being punished for?

28th March. While I was fighting my way just now through the snarled-up traffic in Bayonne due to the road works (necessary for the introduction of the all-electric Tram'bus in September), I was contemplating (as you do) the current state of European politics. 

I'm no Little Englander - I enjoy very much living in this blessed corner of France and I love the diversity and cultural riches that Europe has to offer - but that's as far as it goes. While I'm at ease with feeling "European" (whatever that means), I abhor the European Union that the EEC morphed into while we weren't looking. 

Where to start? There's the democratic deficit and the vaulting ambition (the "ever-closer union" mantra) to become the United States of Europe - conveniently forgetting that one of the key founding principles of the USA was, and still is, defined by Abraham Lincoln as "Government of the people, by the people and for the people". I love Europe but not this particular expression of Europe (the EU) - where its leaders are appointed, instead of being elected by the electorate; where policy emerges fully-formed from Franco-German summits or from behind closed doors in the unelected Commission; a Europe where Germany is making hay (a 48bn€ surplus in the first six months of 2018) thanks to their membership of the eurozone - and where the European Parliament is simply a sad joke - a shop window designed to foster the impression that the EU is democratic. It could just as easily be replaced by a rubber stamp. 

Stuck in traffic, my mind drifted on to the Eurozone and it occurred to me that at one end of the economic spectrum sits Germany, getting richer by the second - a country whose currency should, in all truth, be revalued - while at the other end of the spectrum lie the PIGS - aka Portugal, Italy, Greece and Spain - whose economies would benefit greatly from a currency devaluation. And therein lies the problem with the euro.. there won't be any revaluation or devaluation.. so that means Germany will get richer and richer - while the PIGS get poorer and poorer. This cannot continue. These are the pie-in-the-sky (one joint too many) economics of the eurozone - a single currency artificially applied - unasked for - to a group of countries with dissimilar economies for purely political reasons - driven by an insanely irrational desire to emulate and overtake the United States of America. Taken in isolation, this is a highly laudable goal - but given that there's no common language, plus the lack of shared values and history of political culture, the lack of oversight and accountability, the absence of the democratic principle that is fundamental to the United States of America, it is doomed to failure. The sooner the wheels fall off the EU wagon the better as far as I'm concerned. I feel better for that!

The problem is that as long as Germany is awash with euros, I don't see that the impetus for structural reform of the EU will come from them. Why would it? It certainly won't come from France - as the EU is France's love child and it appeals to their mindset - with its centralised control and run by technocrats (graduates of their Grandes Ecoles) - it is France writ large. Who else, apart from these two countries, has the clout to call a halt to this experiment in social engineering? I think "events" will cause the EU house of cards to come tumbling down one day - I don't see reform coming from within.   

Beautiful, cloudless morning down at the Plage des Cavaliers beach earlier.. sunny but still with that early season freshness. Very few people about. The beach has been cleared of all the detritus washed up during the winter. That's the lighthouse at Biarritz just left of centre - click to enlarge:

UK expats in France concerned about the continued provision of health care post-Brexit should take note of this written statement made in the House of Commons by Stephen Hammond (the Minister of Health), dated 19th March 2019. More here. I've just written to my MP.

As we edge closer to actually leaving the EU (maybe!), here's a site that's been set up by HM Govt specifically to address concerns that UK expats in France may have. You can choose to be notified by email as and when changes occur via this link. The French Govt has also kindly set up a Brexit web site aimed at British expats in France - that should go some way towards allaying concerns people may have. Of course, some key actions may only be put in place if both parties sign up to bilateral agreement on health care.

27th March. David Davis, the former Brexit Secretary, cuts through all the House of Commons flim-flam here with his assessment of the Brexit process and how the Commons is out of step with the very people they are elected to represent. 

22nd March. The slow motion train crash that is Brexit shuffled forward an inch yesterday - only to take a step 2.54 centimetres backwards.

Brexit: On Time, Delayed or Cancelled?

In June, it will be 3 years since the Referendum - we were reminded just the other day that a thousand days have passed since that vote. WWII only lasted 6 years. The country is riven down the middle by the question - with strong opinions held by supporters of both Leave and Remain camps. Furthermore, within a highly factionalised Parliament, as well as the usual tribal conflicts between the main parties, there's a complete spectrum of opinion within each of them. This even extends to Mrs May's Cabinet. It must also be borne in mind that Mrs May was herself a Remainer when she took on the challenge of one of the most toxic Prime Ministerial in-trays in living memory.

When all this is put in the context of a minority government, it's hardly surprising that the solution - if there is one - has been lost somewhere in the noise. I don't think it will be possible for her to achieve a consensus with this dog's breakfast of a "deal". The EU's negotiating stance has, rightly or wrongly, been uncompromising, showing little willingness to accommodate a country that voted democratically (that word again) to leave the Union. Unraveling the myriad number of political, economic, commercial and social developments that have taken place in the past 46 years, with all the associated legislation, and steering the good ship UK safely through the uncharted waters to ensure that the UK could separate cleanly from the EU was always going to be a challenge - and so it has proved. Unfortunately, our "Great Helmsman" was a Remainer and my view is that she went to Brussels as a supplicant - asking for favours. I think she and her team should have been more hard-nosed from the outset - but that's simply not her style.

"Cometh the hour" has been followed many times in our history by "Cometh the Man". Unfortunately this appears to be one of those times when statesmen riding to the rescue are in short supply - on both sides of the House. I think Mrs May has gone as far as she can go and the time is fast approaching when we should be casting around for a suitable replacement - but this is where I draw a blank.

I'm sure all those who are still interested in the outcome are rapidly losing the will to live. I'm fast approaching a terminal condition known as all "Brexited-out"! I want to hear news on the radio - not the endless speculation that we've had to endure for so long. Melanie Phillips' views are always worth listening to - and Matthew Eason has written a good piece here on how the UK's Brexit strategy imploded - if the UK's appalling mishandling of the negotiations from Day 1 could be described as 'strategy'. Sigh..

21st March. We were out at our neighbours late yesterday afternoon and as "l'heure bleue" approached, a bottle of 12 year old Glenkinchie was produced. I have to say it's a long time since I enjoyed a single malt as much as I did this one. I'll have to see if I can find a bottle of it across the border in the whisky quarries! How come it's taken me so long to discover Glenkinchie? If it's a rainy day where you are and you're stuck for something to do, google "Glenkinchie" and read the reviews.. The opinions of the internet's whisky gurus appears to be divided on the subject. I would say: try it for yourself. In reading some of the salty comments, I don't recognise their descriptions of Glenkinchie 12 year old as the same dram that I tried yesterday.

First day of Spring today.. (at last!). Does anyone remember this one?

17th March. It was the final day of the Guinness 6 Nations rugby tournament yesterday and true to form, there were shocks in store. 

First, we started at the Stadio Olimpico, Rome, for a nervy contest between Italy and France to see who'd be propping up the table. I was rather hoping for a win for la squadra azzurra to give them some hope that they were closing the gap between them and the rest - but it wasn't to be. The Italians went very close in the final minutes when a try was disallowed. France won 25-14.  

Wales took the Grand Slam in front of their 80,000-odd adoring fans in Cardiff - with many more left outside - by beating Ireland, last year's champions, who were strangely ineffective. Ireland scored at the death ('saving the furniture' as the French have it) to make the final score 25-7. Over the tournament, Wales shared the unenviable tag of being, with Wooden Spoon winners Italy, the joint lowest try scorers with a modest 10 tries, conceding 7. 

Congratulations to the Welsh team on pulling off the Grand Slam - but at the risk of sounding less than magnanimous, it's worth examining the final points table. Yes, Wales were unbeaten but to me they played an unattractive brand of what I call 'alehouse' rugby - ferocious tackling, with bodies flying in and the minimum of tries to fire the imagination. They have a mean defence (coached by ex rugby league star Shaun Edwards) but it makes for a dour scrappy game. Personally, I find it unwatchable - an opinion that will see me accused of all manner of bad things. I've always applauded good rugby - regardless of who's playing it - but being absolutely honest, I don't see that the current Welsh squad are anywhere near being worthy successors to those great Welsh teams of the 60s and 70s. Workmanlike yes. Memorable? Not at all. I know at moments like this we're supposed to put our national affiliations to one side and praise the Welsh - but sadly, with their style of rugby, I don't feel able to.  

Then we come to Twickenham and the final match in this year's tournament between England and Scotland. I realise that I've left myself wide-open with my less-than-flattering comments about Wales - but England somehow contrived to draw a pulsating match with Scotland 38-38. England started off scoring at the rate of a point per minute and they went in at half time leading 31-7. Somehow, Scotland brought the score back to parity and then at one point in the closing minutes, they were leading 31-38 - until England levelled the scores in extra time. This was a match that Scotland fully deserved to win and I'm sure they'll be disappointed that they didn't. However, it's worth noting that England won the first half 31-7 - and Scotland won the second half by the exact same score.. Fantastic never-say-die spirit from Scotland ably led by Finn Russell. This result means that they deservedly retain the Calcutta Cup.. rugby's oldest sporting trophy.   

Here's something for all those people in Ireland and elsewhere who are feeling a bit 'down in the gob' after the rugby this weekend. Pour yourself a drop of the cratur and listen to this:               

Bob Frost

14th March. I've just heard that Bob Frost (96) died this morning. He was one of the very last surviving WWII evaders who made it home back to England with the help of the Comet Line. He'd been a 19 year old tail gunner in a Vickers Wellington Mk III of 150 Squadron when his aircraft was hit by flak during an operation to bomb the sprawling Krupps foundries at Essen in the Ruhr (known as Happy Valley) on 16/17th September 1942. Against all odds, he survived the immediate effects and was able to parachute out from his crippled bomber. Landing in fields near Kapellen in Flemish-speaking Brabant, he was fortunate to be picked up quickly by Comet Line helpers. He crossed the Pyrenees on 9th October before leaving Gibraltar on 24th October, arriving at Portreath in Cornwall, England the following morning.

Sadly, there are fewer and fewer of these wartime evaders left - and Bob was one of the very last. Some 55,573 aircrew of RAF's Bomber Command were killed during WWII and now Bob has left us to rejoin his old crew mates. RIP Bob. It was a real privilege to know you.

13th March. Melanie Phillips' blog can always be relied upon for a thoughtful view of the current B****t negotiations between the UK and the EU. Here's what she writes towards the end of her piece:

"Meanwhile, remember those dire forecasts of lorry paralysis across the Channel caused by the sudden imposition of no-deal border controls? Well guess what – French Customs has designed “an innovative technological solution – the ‘smart border’”. It says: 

“In the frame of the re-establishment of the border between the United Kingdom and the European Union, French Customs has developed an information system allowing businesses to automate the border crossing by HGV. This innovative solution will be applicable at all points of entry/exit to/from Calais region and more broadly of Channel-North Sea. It is based on 3 principles: 

• The early completion of customs procedures before arriving at the border by giving the bar code of the customs declaration to the driver. 
• The identification of the mean of transport and the bar code of customs declaration of transported goods. 
• The automatic sending of the crossing notifications to the customs declarant to avoid stopping the HGV”. 

Hang on: weren’t we all told the Irish border issue was insoluble because the idea of a smart technological border was impossible? If there can be a smart technological border at Calais, why can’t there be one at the Irish border? And if there can be a smart technological Irish border, then what in heaven’s name was the Irish backstop issue all about?"

12th March. As I was walking back from town this morning, it occurred to me  that the French language, as taught in the UK in the sixties, was not much use (I'm being generous) for everyday living. For example, I well remember the first time I went for a haircut here - and I hardly understood a word the coiffeuse said to me when I sat down in the chair. I got the drift though.. but then I realised I had no idea how to phrase my reply - "Can you thin out the top and leave the sides fairly long please?" I didn't know the French for a 'parting' either. (Maybe I should have paid more attention at school instead of staring out of the window!) If you're waiting to move to France, now's the time to improve your French. I left it until we arrived here and, given the love affair that France has with its own language, I was surprised to find that there weren't more French language courses aimed at foreigners.

11th March. I discovered Nostalgie Best of 60s radio (Anglo-French pop) on our internet radio the other day. It's easy listening and ideal for those who (like, er, me!) had their musical tastes formed in those far-off days.

We were out in the outback just to the north east of Peyrehorade (right) yesterday for lunch with friends D & L. They bought their relatively isolated farmhouse about 3-4 years ago and since then they've carried out a lot of work in bringing it all up to date. L used to have an interior design business in northern France and now that, for all intents and purposes, the house is finished, it's a testament to her discerning eye.

Tastefully furnished with an eclectic mix of French country furniture, a few Art Deco pieces and a couple of very comfortable couches, its beams painted a pale grey and a grey stone floor, the relaxed open plan living area would not have looked out of place in any of those French country living magazines. There was a display case in an alcove containing what appeared to be Fabergé eggs but I was assured that they were lookalikes! If genuine, just one would have been more than enough to guarantee a (very) comfortable retirement!

The log fire was crackling in their massive open hearth and we sat around it while the dogs did what dogs do (aka the eternal battle for dominance). To take our minds off the yapping, she served us a wonderful and novel apéro - known as "soupe au champagne" (champagne, a dash/splash of Cointreau, some lime juice and cane sugar syrup) that was very more-ish - it really hit the spot. (how to make it here) We enjoyed this while trying to hold back from eating all the tasty nibbles she'd made - before we moved to the table. Once there, it just got better and better.

Afterwards, we moved back in front of the fire and I taught them a card game (Clag) that I'd learnt in the military. Great fun! I think we'll be playing more of this highly addictive game with them. 

Tête de veau

Apparently, there's a really good traditional market every Wednesday at Peyrehorade, with produce from three departments, lying as it does at the intersection of Les Landes, the Béarn and the Pyrénées-Atlantiques. We must get out there again one day - it's only 40 minutes away. There's also a restaurant there that gets good reviews - "Au Bon Coin Les Pieds de Cochon". It features authentic country cooking from the region and it appears to be the kind of restaurant that we like. You'll find it here. While it's true that the à la carte menu features a few dishes I'm not crazy about - such as pied de cochon (pig's trotter) and tripes - and one that gives me nightmares: tête de veau (calf's head) - there are also some of my favourites: omelette à la morue (salt cod omelette), the terrine of foie gras - or the hero-sized 1.2kg (42oz) côte de boeuf (bone in prime rib) for two. Here's a review from Sud-Ouest. I've added it to our "must visit" list.

Ireland duly dispatched France 26-14 in Dublin scoring 4 good tries against a porous French defence before les Bleus finally replied with two late tries at the death. (I haven't had time to watch it yet): 

10th March. No surprises thus far from this weekend's 6 Nations rugby - Wales were expected to win at Murrayfield and duly did so (11-18) - but watch for Finn Russell's astonishing sleight of hand as he makes a lightning quick reverse pass at 1:26 that led to a Scottish try.. That would have had Bill McLaren purring! And rightly so. I've watched the ½ speed replay (click on the "Settings" button at the bottom right of the YouTube window) of that pass several times and I'm still not exactly sure how he managed to do what he did. Players with that speed of thought plus the ability to execute are rare these days. 

Meanwhile at Twickenham, England took on Italy and ran in 8 tries to win 57-14 - a result that, according to the French TV summariser, owed much to English 'pragmatism' - whatever the heck that meant in this context. (Phlegmatic and pragmatic - I( can be guaranteed that any French commentator will come out with these two words within the opening minutes of any match featuring England.) 
OK, I hear the critics say yes, but it was only Italy - but look at the results against the Azzurri's earlier opponents: Italy lost away to Scotland 33-20, then lost at home to Wales 15-26 before losing again at home to Ireland (last year's champions) 16-26. Look at the margins they lost by: 13pts, 11pts and 10pts - nothing to be ashamed of there.

This next comment will probably cause outrage in the Valleys but I have to agree with Italy's head coach, Conor O’Shea, who after the match yesterday praised the resilience of his side on an afternoon when they lost three centres and finished with a prop in the back row. He said, “They could have thrown in the towel but kept getting stuck in against a powerful side who, in my opinion, are the best in the Six Nations”. Yes, the Welsh boys sit at the top of the table and the Grand Slam is theirs to lose, but next weekend, they entertain Ireland at Cardiff - then we'll see.   

5th March. Here's one of those cinematic scenes where the images and the soundtrack merge into a coherent whole. The late Jeanne Moreau in Louis Malle's 1958 New Wave film "Lift to the Scaffold" (Ascenseur pour l'échafaud) wanders the night-time streets of Paris (always best in black and white)  looking for her lover as the Miles Davis Quintet picks up her mood perfectly:                                 

3rd March. The Spanish authorities gave their blessing to this bizarre high risk strategy a day or two ago when a fire fighting Canadair amphibian dropped in over the rooftops at San Sebastian and landed in La Concha to pick up water:

I believe many of us have dreams that mostly stay on the back burner - there's no harm in that. For many years, mine was to sell up in the UK and move down to the Pay Basque where we could enjoy on a daily basis what we'd previously only known for 2 weeks every year. Realising that particular dream was (and still is!) every bit as enjoyable as I'd hoped.

However, that's not the end of it. I've another long-standing dream - namely, of owning a sixties Porsche 912 - like the one (below) - and this dream has been parked on the back burner for years as well - but, unlike my other dream, I think that's where it will stay. Has there ever been a better body shape than this - clean, sober, functional, no wings or stripes, no "attitude"? It's just a beautifully balanced and timeless shape. It would be perfect for exploring the lanes that criss-cross the back country of the Pays Basque and the mountain passes of the Pyrenees - sigh! (all donations gratefully accepted!☺) How many other cars that are 50+ years old look this good?

Here's another one.

246. Deep in deepest France

31st August. This morning, I finally set in motion the process to apply for dual nationality by posting a bulky envelope containing a great wodge of paperwork. Apart from a form I'd printed off the internet with the basic information, I had to include a copy of my passport, a certified translated copy of my criminal record (blank of course - need you ask!), certified translated copies of my birth certificate and my parents' birth certificates, a copy of our marriage certificate, my wife's birth certificate, a copy of her father's birth certificate - pause for breath - a statement from the bank here that we have a joint account, a statement from the tax authorities, plus a 55€ "timbre fiscal", a stamped addressed envelope address to us, and a registered letter. Phew...          

How does that expression go? "Times flies like an arrow - but fruit flies like a banana.." I realised this morning that it was 10 years ago today that we set off in our hired van from England for sunnier climes. We'd sold our house in England, and we didn't have a house to go to in France - all we had was an address for a gîte down in the Pays Basque where we'd be staying for an indefinite period. We'd well and truly burnt our boats. We thought we might have to spend up to a year there before we found a house to buy. It didn't quite work out like that! (see here)

And for anyone reading this who is contemplating moving across the Channel - the $64,000 question - "Do we have any regrets?". I'm afraid the answer is no, not one. Would we do it all again? Yes, in a heartbeat. Would I give any advice? Try and be honest (even ruthless) with yourself about your intentions and your likes and dislikes. Is it a short term move or is it for keeps? Having made your decision, I'd say plan your move, plan your move and plan your move. Try and identify the variables that will affect you. Try to think through in advance all the "what ifs"- and nail as many of them as possible while you're in England.  

The other significance of this date was, of course, the final act in the short and ultimately tragic life of Princess Diana. Twenty years ago, we'd been invited to France to take part in a friend's wedding anniversary celebrations over a long weekend near Bourges. We had to leave early by car on the Sunday morning to return to England. As we drove north, we started picking up the morning news faintly on the BBC long wave and, to our disbelief, we heard the shocking announcement of her untimely death a few hours earlier in nearby Paris. Like everybody else, we were absolutely stunned and we couldn't begin to imagine how on earth she had managed to come to grief in a chauffeur-driven limo in the centre of Paris. Needless to say, it's been the subject of endless speculation ever since.  

The only comment I'd make is that I thought she'd breathed some much-needed fresh air and normality into the stuffy Royals. At least, that's my perception. The truth is, none of us really know what went on in that marriage and that family. I have my own views. Suffice to say, I don't think Charles has ever realised what he lost by pursuing his own aims. Perhaps I shouldn't say this but he almost became likeable while he was married to Diana - some of her magic dust having rubbed off on him.  

28th August. The atmosphere cooked up something special up for us early this evening.. The skies darkened and then the first flickering flashes of sheet lightning started. Then the lightning became more or less continuous before it moved on to bigger things. Suddenly there was an intense electric blue and white flash - like a big city transformer exploding - as lightning struck somewhere close by. This was followed a second or two later by the mother of all explosions as a bass drum roll of thunder shook the house in a continuing rumble that sounded for all the world like a stick of bombs going off a few streets away. Unfortunately, the pup had chosen that moment to have a sniff around the garden - and I've not seen him move so fast before as he shot indoors!

24th August. Just noticed that the slideshow I had set up in the left hand column has disappeared. I'll have to see about reinstating it with another photo storage service.. I think Photobucket has changed its terms and conditions and now that it has captured billions of treasured images, it wants to charge...

22nd August. A loong time ago I lived on a Greek island and in the late afternoons/early evenings I used to work in a Greek-owned drinks store. When trade was slack, we'd close up and drive out to a shack where we'd make and then bottle our own ouzo. Later in the evening, we'd go to an open air bar out on a headland where inevitably - as night follows day - someone would start dancing the sirtaki.. It's surprisingly hard to learn the sequence of steps - after all, there are only so many things you can do with two arms, two legs, two knees and two feet. Or so you'd think! This little clip takes me back.. I was never this good:

   

I've just discovered that there was a Festival Biarritz Années Folles (Biarritz in the Roaring Twenties Festival) in June 2017. A few wannabe 'Boy' Capels on show here.. Plus I would have needed to brush up my dancing skills (such as they are) if we'd gone.. One of the problems with these events is that it can be guaranteed that the MC will pick up a microphone and insist on talking and talking ad infinitum. (surgical intervention being required). I have a notoriously short attention span for many of the activities portrayed here (apart from 21:36!). I think I would have glazed over before too long.. and been caught sneaking a peek at my watch!

19th August. Yesterday it was the turn of Barcelona to experience the horror of a terror attack. It seems that they're occurring with increased frequency these days. I believe our interests would be best served by not revealing any details at all about the measures that are being taken to nullify these attacks.

18th August. I omitted to mention the passing of Glen Campbell, who achieved instant global fame with his enigmatic song - "Wichita Lineman". On the face of it, it's pretty much a 'nothing' easy listening song but then the mental images accumulate - a nostalgic lineman up a telegraph pole out on the lonely prairie, with the wind in the wires, missing his girl - and combine with what sounds like morse code and voila.. it all comes together. I heard this song the other day for the first time in years and it has stood the test of time very well. Have a listen:

Another unforgettable retail experience to chalk up.. It was decided by Higher Authority that the toilet seat in the downstairs loo needed replacing. With the pup unable to be left on his own at the moment, I was dispatched out on a solo mission - to execute "Operation Toilet Seat"! The toilet in the downstairs porcelain reading room is, at a whopping 37 centimetres wide, of Godzilla-like proportions. I soon found myself staring at a bewildering array of seats at a local DIY megastore armed only with a tape measure. I finally homed in on a likely suspect, made the purchase and dashed for home.

When I unpacked the object, I checked to see where it had been made (knowing in advance what the answer would be). Yes, of course, it had been manufactured in the People's Republic of China (PRC). I think we're doomed. The writing's on the wall. How is it that we can't even produce flippin' toilet seats? Is there nothing the PRC can't make?

The grey-suited functionaries currently shining their backsides in Brussels should be asking themselves the question: how is it that a country on the other side of the world can manufacture a simple domestic product like a toilet seat, ship it to Europe and still sell it at a competitive price? Having established that our manufacturing costs are too high, the next question for the well-fed fonctionnaires should surely be - what are we going to do about it to make our industries more competitive? The answer is clear: we must reduce the punitive burden of the 'social charges' that European manufacturers are liable for.    

16th August. Here's a short video of the latest addition to the household.. (I made it just for the record - Martin Scorcese it's not!)

The Edinburgh Festival has occasionally seen new comic talent emerge. Judging by the 10 Best Jokes from this year's festival, I think we can safely say that established comedians need have no further worries about their job security in 2017. I can't believe that these dire offerings are the 10 Best. If I told one of these, I'd expect no more than a polite smile - at best.    

Nutty

12th August. After the passage of a long year since we lost our golden boy, the house once again is alive with the sound of the pitter-patter of paws! We drove up to a cocker spaniel breeder in Lot-et-Garonne on Thursday and - surprise, surprise - we came away with a 2½ month old pup. There were around 12 of them vying for our attention but he stood out from the rest - he picked himself - but if I'm honest, I could have grabbed the whole squirming mass of them! There wasn't a single one that we wouldn't have given a home to.

We decided we needed time to make our minds up so we drove to nearby Duras to talk it over, away from the distraction of a dozen playful pups - with the help of a glass of the local red. By some quirk of French law, dogs have to be registered with a name with the initial letter for the year in question. This year's letter is N. In the end, we chose this little feller, who will soon be answering to the name of Nutty.. (once he's learned it!)  He's settled in quickly without any dramas, and we're looking forward to the day when we can take him out - another couple of weeks yet.

Now

Then

11th August. One for the ladies.. Here's an interesting tale from the dusty margins of history.. and it's one that I'd not heard before.

I'd once read somewhere that Coco Chanel had opened her first shop at Biarritz (left) in or around 1915 - but I was unaware of the rest of the story. A hundred years on, the location remains largely unchanged.

It appears that she'd had an independently wealthy English lover, Captain Arthur Edward "Boy" Capel, and, in the time-honoured fashion, he had generously advanced her the start-up money she'd needed to open up her first shops (she surprised him later by paying it all back in full!).

"Boy" & Coco

He was described as "an intellectual, politician, author, a ship-owning tycoon, polo-player and the dashing lover and sponsor of the fashion designer Coco Chanel" - and he continued seeing Coco Chanel after his marriage.. so, in the language of the day, he'd be classed as a cad and a bounder. In those days, the only punishment possible for a transgression such as this would have been a sound horsewhipping!☺ Today, her former shop in the centre of Biarritz is home to the Bookstore and Maison Adam - both of which are worth visiting.

Cotignac

I was just re-reading the above description of 'Boy' Capel and it occurred to me that we don't make them like that any more. Is there anyone around in politics today who fits that description? I very much doubt it. Tragically, 'Boy' was to be killed in a road accident outside Cannes (in his Rolls-Royce) in 1919.

There's now a "Boy" Capel Challenge - a classic car rally that does a lap of the Côte d'Azur, starting from Cannes and visits Aix-en-Provence, Gorge du Verdon, St. Paul de Vence before returning to Cannes. Here are the participants as they rumble through Cotignac - a lovely Provençale village we visited a few years ago. Enjoy this stroll through Cotignac on what looks like a lazy out of season Sunday lunchtime - best in full screen:

On the face of it, the world has changed greatly - but if you read this account of the hedonism of the twenties, it will quickly become apparent that 'excess' wasn't a product of the modern age - it had all been done long before.

9th August. Here's an interesting and thought-provoking documentary that tries to define progress. Today, more than ever, we are being constantly presented with "improvements" to existing technologies and when we're unable to absorb any more changes, we get new technologies thrust at us. 

In my lifetime, we've gone from playing music on 78rpm records - to 45s - to 33s, then to reel-to-reel tape recorders to cassettes, to CDs - and then it went crazy... Now, we have music available on MP3 players, USB sticks, our mobile phones, the cloud (?) and so it goes. (I'm sure I've missed a few steps out at the end there!). It's the same with photography. Without going through the same process of listing the changes in cameras over the last 50 years - just ask yourself how many generations of obsolete cameras do you have tucked away gathering dust in drawers at home? (We must have at least 6 cameras of varying stages of obsolescence - no longer used.)

During the last decade of my working life, a common mantra was that we had to "embrace change". And since then, politicians have used the need for change in their campaign slogans - but without defining exactly what that change would consist of, and perhaps more importantly, who it would benefit (apart from getting them elected!). If, however, we're against change, we're seen as reactionary dinosaurs. Surely we must establish the benefit(s) of any change before adopting it lemming-like. Mobile phones are a good example. I have no need for a mobile phone. Let me repeat that: I have no need for a mobile phone. Zero. Nada. Zip. Niente. I've inherited one from Madame but it just sits on the hall table and there it stays. Sometimes I feel all changed out!

Coming back from the Auvergne last week, we pulled off the A89 to find somewhere for lunch and we stopped at Montignac in the Dordogne. It was a "tourist-rich" environment and clustered around the entrance to a riverside restaurant we were contemplating were a number of English girls - each of them armed with an iphone. Instead of looking at the menus posted outside, they were frantically calling up the restaurant's page on Trip Advisor to see what people thought of it - before suddenly deciding that a restaurant across the river had received better reviews - and they were off!

6th August. The parking gods smiled on us this morning in Biarritz.. Yes, an August Sunday and we found a place straight off. We had to arrive there at 10am though! The town was alive with rumbling Harleys, blatting their "potato-potato" sound, and innumerable bloated German 4x4s. In the middle of all this, and close to where we parked, was a superb 40 year old example of what is arguably automobile perfection – an early 70s Porsche 911 in ice green - similar to the one here but different colour. No frills, no fat – just a lithe, supple and timeless shape designed for one thing and one thing only. These cars have their detractors I know but, aah, that shape.. This is the car I always wanted - a Porsche 912. Designed as an entry level model, it had a 1600 flat four and it was later upgraded with an 86bhp 2 litre four. As I never wished to blat around at the speed of heat, it would have suited me fine. Join me in drooling over this one here! This model was briefly affordable until just a few years ago but values have skyrocketed (40,000€+) in recent years as baby boomers chase the car of their teenage dreams.

Hard at it at the Bleu Café on the Grande Plage this morning!

3rd August. Please don't forget to send me your tips for including on my interactive map of our favourite affordable restaurants in France where they still cook to the old standards. By that I mean restaurants where the dishes are prepared and cooked in the kitchen - with not a microwave in sight! See here for further details.

2nd August. Just as the Fêtes de Bayonne kicked off last week, we escaped up to Salers in the Auvergne. For many people, Salers is famous for one thing: its grass-fed beef. The Salers breed has to be hardy to survive the long winters up at altitude and their thick coats are a rich mahogany red. They all seemed to be fitted with bells around their necks and so we were serenaded every evening by what sounded like gusts of wind blowing through a wind chime factory - as here!

Here's the village of Salers.. Three thousand feet up, it's built of volcanic basalt, and it presents a solid yet unprepossessing face to the world with its dark stone edifices and heavy split stone roof tiles.

This dourness is reflected in the food - here there are no large white plates with slices of meat artfully arranged on top of a mini-tower of 3 carottes rondelles - with a 'signature' swirl of jus.. (spare me!)
 No, it's solid fare here and there are such local delights as 'pounti' (I never got around to trying it) and something called a 'liogue'. (a large diameter sausage served sliced - this I did try). Another evening, I tried pig's trotter (foot) with foie gras. I must admit I wasn't sure what to expect with this! It turned out to be something that was the size of a slightly flattened tennis ball that had been breaded and deep-fried. It contained nothing readily identifiable (rather like a haggis!) and it was rather bland in taste. The jury's still out on that one. (Perhaps it was a tennis ball! Aagghh!)

A speciality of the Auvergne that I've had before is chou farci - which translates as an unappetising-sounding 'stuffed cabbage' in Anglo-Saxon. It is anything but.. We had a healthy slice of this one lunchtime and it was delicious. (NB. Must use a savoy cabbage).

Another speciality of the region that we tasted was Gentiane Jaune. I think this falls straight into the "Acquired Taste" category. We've all done it - bought an exotic-looking bottle on an overseas trip, got home, tried it once, and then 10 years later you find it at the back of your drinks cupboard covered in dust with the screw-cap seemingly welded on. (Ask me how I know!)

La truffade

If I had to pick one dish that was omnipresent and exemplified all the local specialities, then I'd have to say it would be truffade.. perhaps the dish of the region. On one occasion, we had it twice in one day!

Here, the making of it is demonstrated by the presenter (below) who sounds as though his trousers are on fire (he comes in at 0:11). It is the ideal fuel if you anticipate digging a ditch sometime in the near future - but for bumbling around the lanes, visiting villages, it's probably a few calories too many! However, when it's accompanied by a glass of Saint-Pourçain rouge*, it all seems to make sense.. (More here) 
* We've had the white Saint-Pourçain several times but the red was new to both of us - and very nice it was too. We now have a ½ case on order.. (Since discovered that Carrefour stock it - and very drinkable it is too.)

Edited in 2023 to add: This has become close to being our 'go to' wine. Each time we taste it, one of us will invariably say - "This is far better than it should be..". Luckily Carrefour and Leclerc both stock it. 

Let's not forget that this region of France was heavily involved in the 100 Years War.. The 15th century Château d'Anjony is one of those medieval structures that simply takes your breath away.. 

Outside of the villages, the physical features of the landscape have been laid out on a grand scale:

As for the above video, I refuse to do anything (with my clothes on!) that requires me to cry out "Woo-hoo!"..

Meanwhile, I’m now smarting from a letter I opened at lunchtime. We’d been to Saint-Jean-de-Luz one evening about a month ago and we were chatting on the way home - in a 50kmh limit with a known radar camera.. As I went by the camera at 57kmh I thought “Oh noooooo!”.

Oh yes, the fine came today. For doing 7 kmh over the limit (ie, just over 4mph) I have to pay a 90€ fine. Grrr!