79. The brown brown grass of home

16th August 2010. I've been trying to encourage the lawn in our garden to grow green and weed-free for the past few years but I'm starting to wonder if I'm flogging a dead horse. After a long hot rain-free summer, the 'lawn' is definitely bien cuite.. ie, burnt brown and patchy, despite raising the height of the cut on the lawn mower. After weeks of baking heat with no rain - just the odd shower - we had a torrential downpour at 6am on Sunday morning that was so loud it sounded as though the house was being driven through a car wash. But it was a case of too much too late - the damage had already been done. Needless to say, I'm going to have to try again. There must surely be a variety of grass that can tolerate the climate here.

This evening we walked over to the beautifully landscaped gardens that have been laid out in and around the old ramparts surrounding Bayonne. It was so pleasant to sit there on a warm evening (25C in the shade when we returned home) almost in the heart of Bayonne and yet be in such a peaceful setting.  There's clearly an enlightened council at work here.

17th August 2010. This morning I finally loaded up the car with all the junk from the cellar and took it to the nearby déchetterie on the banks of the Adour.

Whilst there, I spotted a nice wooden winebox that had contained Château Plantey 'Pauillac' that somehow jumped into the back of my car.. I must admit to collecting these (below) and it seems I'm not alone!

Rowed this evening.. had a good outing in an VIII. Did 15km.. (Running total: 41km)

18th August 2010. We went for a bike ride this morning along the Adour as far as Villefranque. It must be almost 20km there and back. It seems only a few months ago that the first shoots of corn started poking through and now the fields are a good 8 feet high with a rustling mass of corn stalks, and I believe the corn is destined for animal feed.

19th August 2010. Arriving at the rowing club this evening I spotted the team coach for the Agen rugby club who play Bayonne tomorrow parked outside the hotel nearby. And as I was walking away from the club after the outing, I noticed 5 massively built South Sea islanders with their Easter Island profiles in their Agen t-shirts strolling along the river bank.. It's not until you see the new generation of rugby players that you realise just how big they are. And as for trying to stop one with the ball running at you..

Very warm out on the river this evening.. went out in a quad sculler and did 10km (Running total: 51km) 

78. Sounds of old Europe

That old street organ I heard the other day set me thinking about the cimbalom, another musical instrument that must surely be high on the endangered species list. What exactly is a cimbalom? According to Wiki, it's "a concert hammered dulcimer: a type of chordophone composed of a large, trapezoidal box with metal strings stretched across its top". Got that..? No? I didn't think you did..! On the basis that a picture's worth a thousand words, here's a picture..

From the first time I heard one, its jangling strings resonated with me and I felt a nostalgia for the older European musical traditions (Magyar, Yiddish, gypsy) of our folk memory that are now virtually lost to the present generation. (Lady Gaga just doesn't come close!)

The sound of one always puts me in mind of the film noir genre that would invariably have the ultra sinister-looking Vladek Sheybal (below) cast as the softly-spoken bad guy - complete with cigarette holder of course..

Vlad the Impaler..

I've been a fan of the sound of the cimbalom since I was introduced to it during the course of a memorable visit to the legendary Le Grand Mayeur, the Russian/Hungarian taverne/restaurant, now sadly defunct, in Brussels.

Here's a regrettably short clip that features the Kalinka ensemble from Le Grand Mayeur:

  

Located in the Place du Grand Sablon, Brussels, Le Grand Mayeur was housed in a tall building (of 3 or 4 storeys) and the centre of each floor had been removed - making 3 mezzanine floors - so from the ground floor there was an uninterrupted view all the way up to the roof. It was candle-lit and, upon entering, there was an overpowering sensation you had entered a different world to the workaday Brussels outside. A gypsy orchestra consisting of a singer accompanied by a cimbalom, balalaika, guitar, piano, violin & bass provided the magic..

Le Grand 
Mayeur

Thé Slav

I think the bulk of the clientele must have originated from the backroom staff of many of the Central and Eastern European embassies based in Brussels - judging by the number of ill-fitting grey suits when I visited Le Grand Mayeur. One of the specialities of the house was Thé Slav - which was tea with Slivovitz or shoe polish (I was never quite sure which). The first indication that things were about to look up, or take a turn for the worse - or both - came the moment when the waitress served me with a glass cup of Thé Slav - pausing only to light it with a sudden whoof! The trick was to drink it before the flickering blue flame heated the rim of the glass sufficiently for it to bond directly to skin - as in lips! Drinking one felt like the blood in one's veins had been instantly replaced by 130 octane aviation fuel.. If the first cup tasted strong and removed all capacity for rational thought, the second scrambled all motor functions but curiously enabled you to understand Polish☺. So, a useful drink then.. The repertoire of the lively gypsy singer consisted of old folk songs which she sang in at least 5 or 6 central European languages, but somehow the enthusiastic cosmopolitan audience knew all the words, and after a Thé Slav or two, I found I did too..

That old favourite of mine - "Dark Eyes" - sounds very "listenable to" when played on the cimbalom:

This clip captures all the eerie echoing sound of the cimbalom that seems to speak to us from another time and another place:

Places like Le Grand Mayeur are few and far between. It seems bizarre that one had to visit a restaurant to discover that we shared a common folk heritage with our European neighbours. Le Grand Mayeur was far more than just "a nice restaurant with a band" - it reminded us that, whatever our nationality, we are all part of that broad river of humanity. Alas, for all of us, its doors have closed for the last time..

You may be excused for thinking that what started out as a look at the cimbalom has turned into a tribute to Le Grand Mayeur.. You'd be right!

The thing to drink there was a "Thé Slav" - tea served in a glass and flamed with (I think) slivovitz.. After one glass, you'd be humming all the tunes - and after two, you knew all the words!

So here, finally, is a last glimpse of it as it really was:

By the way, if anyone knows how to make Thé Slav, I'd be curious to find out. If you'd like to tell me, use the comment form below. Thanks!  

77. Blast from the past

8th August 2010. I thought I'd take the dog for an early morning walk while it was still cool to his favourite - the Place des Basques - a grassy tree-lined square on the edge of the town centre - where he can go loose. We were walking down the big avenue that's lined with apartment buildings on one side which leads to the Place when I thought I heard in the distance the distinctive sound of a street organ. I suddenly realised that the mellifluous tones weren't coming from a radio somewhere but from the genuine article. This was the first time I've heard one of these in years and it was being pulled along the road surface by a father and son team.. (straight out of a 60s Italian film - except they were probably East Europeans) Mounted on rubber tyres, it was about the same size as the one in the clip below and it sounded very similar.. Pops was cranking the handle and Junior was holding out a tin cup to catch any centimes that might be thrown down from the balconies..

At just after 9am on a Sunday morning, I thought they were being just a tad optimistic in trying to generate some interest and a few euros from the still-shuttered apartment blocks. I doubt if many people would be up and about and the only people out on the streets were a few dog-walkers like me or those in search of a fresh croissant or baguette. I think the penny suddenly dropped with him too for he suddenly stopped the music in mid-crank and they headed back towards town.  

I'd like to have filmed the two of them as it was a real sound from an age gone by..

For the last few evenings we've had to endure the sound of bullfights from Les Arènes (just a few hundred metres away) - the stupid music, the whistles, the applause and the jeers.. I don't understand how, in an otherwise civilised society, the State can continue to sanction the practice of this degrading and cruel activity within its territory in the 21st century. And, to add further insult to injury, the bull ring is part-financed from our local taxes.

If bull-fighting is to continue, then this is the sort of level playing field I'd like to see a lot more of. In my view (and you may have your own opinion) these spectators got exactly what they deserved:

76. The old boy's knackered..

5th August 2010. Taking a break from the Do-It-Yourself job from Hell..! I've been down in the cellar for days now brushing the dust & cobwebs of decades off the wooden beams prior to slapping some toxic gunge on them.. It's not helped by the fact that I can't stand upright either - think there's less than 6ft (1.83m) of headroom down there. I can hardly breathe for dust and I've been wearing a mask which doesn't help either in this heat.. Worst job I've ever done.. but I've only got 4 beams left to do.. I'll be glad when it's finished..

With yet another of those songs that will continue to play in your head all day long after the clip has stopped - here's Jeanne Moreau singing "that" song in François Truffaut's "Jules et Jim".. (1962) (lyrics in English here)

That wonderful clip (Post #73) of Paris viewed from the air opens with a snatch of a Piaf song ("Sous le ciel de Paris") that's been on my mind while I've been toiling in the cellar..! Here it is in full:

I've decided I'm going to keep a cumulative total of the kilometers I've rowed.. (for my own benefit) Tonight's was 12km. (and it feels like it!)

7th August 2010. 14km this morning... (total 26km).

75. Variation in property prices around France

29th July 2010. This link shows the disparity in property prices around France - shown in euros per square metre. (Loyer = monthly rental) You can click on the area(s) you're interested in on the map. No surprises here.. the south and west coasts remain popular.

We've experienced the Fêtes de Bayonne a few times now so this year we've decided that we're going to escape from it by going east up into the mountains at the weekend. While there, we're planning on taking a trip on Le Petit Train d'Artouste. It's billed here as Europe's highest railway although this one seems to have the winning credentials.  Here's a video of it as it chugs up the mountains next to some vertiginous drops..

  

Fans of the surreal Father Ted TV series will recognise this image that was used by Father Ted in a vain attempt to channel Father Dougal's thoughts upon more conventional lines.. I've found this useful myself on occasion! (The animation seems a bit 'iffy' - so if it doesn't work, just click on it..)

30th July 2010. I've just noticed that we've finally picked up a reader of this blog from the African continent - hello and thank you to Zambia..! What kept you?

2nd August 2010. Back home this morning after a really enjoyable few days away in the mountains. Madame had found the Hôtel les Bains de Secours* (above), a delightful small country hotel (Logis 2*) with just 7 rooms at Sévignacq-Meyracq, just to the north of Laruns.

* Edited to add: The owner retired a year or two ago - not sure if it has re-opened. 

 

Set in idyllic surroundings, it was well situated for exploring the region. Stepping outside, the only sound came from the discordant tinkling of cow bells in the green pastures all about us. We set off for the Tourist Office at nearby Laruns to pick up information about the mountain train at Artouste.. With it being the start of the major French summer holidays, we booked an early train on Saturday morning.

While at the Tourist Office, I noticed that tuition was available for fly fishing. I've had a fly rod gathering dust for years but now I finally have the time to start learning the art of casting a fly. Madame - a city girl - asked me where I would get flies from. I replied from a fishing tackle shop.  She then asked me if they'd be dead or alive..! I'm still laughing at that as I type!

We first had to take a cable car up to the terminus station for the narrow gauge railway.

Lower cable car station at Artouste-Fabrèges

Billed as the highest railway in Europe, it started out life supporting the construction work in the '20s required to build a dam, one of a number in the area supplying hydro electric power stations. If any would-be traveller on the train is subject to vertigo, I wouldn't recommend sitting on the left hand side of the open carriage (as you face forward) on the outbound train or the right hand side on the returning train as the drop-off in most places is sheer - and there's no safety barrier or fence..

Arriving at the dam, we had a picnic in burning sunshine and drank in the stunning views before returning. This next clip of the Petit Train d'Artouste was filmed in exactly the same weather as we experienced:

Later we drove up several spectacular climbs that had recently been used in the Tour de France overlooked by mountains that loomed out of the blue haze:

This was the view from the summit of the Col d'Aubisque:

Finally, we returned to the hotel - both of us with an appetite you could photograph..!

The chef at the hotel is clearly an artist as every meal we had there was inventive, colourful, refined and - absolutely delicious! The waitress brought out a small dish of amuse-gueules with the aperos.. One of these was scallops and squid.. mmm. We'll definitely be returning there before long. Highly recommended. (the usual disclaimers apply)

Be advised all my comments relate to the previous owner's tenure. 

Here's another tune that I've liked for a long time without knowing what it was - I finally googled the lyrics this morning and bingo.. a hit from 1988!  

Disappointed I haven't covered more of the Fêtes de Bayonne..? Here's a story that hit the regional papers - a flashmob (don't ask!) turned up in the centre of Bayonne..

74. La sauce HP

28th July 2010. HP Sauce used to be found on most tables in Britain.. and the label had a lengthy list of ingredients in both English and French. This was probably the first time that many Brits had come across the French language and I'm sure that I wasn't the only one who used to sit there as a kid attempting to read the French ingredients. In this clip, the late great Marty Feldman takes it one step further - in the manner of Jacques Brel or Charles Aznavour:

73. Calm before the storm..

24th July 2010. Beautiful day here today - cloudless blue sky and it looks like being a perfect day on the river. I'm just getting ready to leave for my Saturday morning row up the Nive.

While I'm away, here's something to keep you occupied for a minute or two. I don't normally do online tests (compatability, intelligence, personality etc) but the other day I came across this intriguing Personality Test. On completing the questions, I found the result described me remarkably accurately. It's aimed at people who are in the job market but it's none the worse for that. Try it and prepare yourself to be astonished.

Here are three for listening to late at night - Chet Baker with My Funny Valentine, Thelonius Monk and 'Round Midnight and, to finish up with, the great Charlie Parker with Summertime:

  

Feel like a dreamlike flight over Paris..? The fifteen minute video that you'll find at the link below has Madame (une vraie Parisienne) transfixed.. she's watched it at least half a dozen times - if not double figures - to my knowledge.. I had wondered out loud at Post #39 if a film tribute to Paris had ever been made along the lines of Woody Allen's opening credits for Manhattan. Stunning photography coupled with some highly nostalgic music (by some of the greats - inc. Piaf & Brel) are combined here to produce a memorable fifteen minutes. Step right this way - and be prepared for something special..

26th July 2010. Walked to the post office in town this afternoon and the final preparations for the Fêtes de Bayonne are in full swing.. Heavy lorries loaded up with fairground rides are parked in key locations. Fast food shacks are springing up everywhere.. The usual wandering souls (and their dogs), who appear (as if by magic) when crowds are expected, are here too - looking for a pay day. The park benches had some late risers stretched out on them this afternoon. I think the population of the town has already doubled in size with many more to come.

The start is less than 48 hours away now - at 2200hrs (French time) on Wednesday night. You can watch the scene outside the Town Hall live on a webcam - check the website for the Fêtes. Following the opening ceremony, there's the Mother Of All Firework displays at 2210hrs right in the centre of town... watch the clip below at 0:40 - it's as noisy as the opening 15 minutes of "Saving Private Ryan" - and again at 5:30. In the Pays Basque, fireworks come in just the one flavour - deafeningly LOUD!!

72. Villa Voisin

17th July 2010. I mentioned in an earlier post that I've become increasingly interested in the Comet Line since I found out that its operations in the South West of France were controlled from a house just a few minutes from here.

Dédée

The Comet Line was a secret network established during WWII by Andrée De Jongh ("Dédée" or the Little Cyclone), a brave 24 year old Belgian woman, with the aim of helping shot-down Allied airmen to escape and evade from the Low countries down through France, over the Pyrenees to Spain and hence to return to Britain via Gibraltar or Lisbon. The activities of the Comet Line in the Pays Basque were co-ordinated by an indefatigable Belgian lady - Elvire De Greef - known as "Tante Go".

"Tante Go"

She and her husband Fernand lived in nearby Anglet in a house known as the Villa Voisin. In researching the Pays Basque end of the Comet Line, I finally managed to pinpoint the address of the Villa Voisin and I drove there today. By the way, my comments on the Comet Line are not intended as an exhaustive account of the activities in this area by any means. I'm aware that in naming names that there are many others who remain un-named. My admiration for all those who helped is unbounded and without reservation.

Villa Voisin

The Villa Voisin* is located at the end of a discreet cul-de-sac in the centre of Anglet, set back from the lane. It's an anonymous, drab villa hiding behind closed shutters and and surrounded by a small garden. It appears to be unoccupied at present. Affixed to one of the gateposts is a simple marble plaque (left). It was with mixed emotions that I finally found myself outside it. Those immensely courageous people who'd operated the Line from it had known the highs and lows of a secret life on the run against a ruthless enemy - the need for eternal vigilance, the constant fear of the heavy tramp of boots outside that preceded a late night hammering at the door. Counter-balancing that however, they'd shared the adrenalin-fuelled comradeship, the knowledge that they were fighting for a better world and the satisfaction of knowing that they were both defying the invader and contributing to his defeat by helping hundreds of escaping airmen to evade capture and return home to fly again. In the four years it oper­ated from 1941 to 1944, the Comet Line saved hundreds of Allied airmen and soldiers to evade capture and return home. It's difficult for us today to imagine the kind of world that made the Comet Line necessary.

* (Edited to add: Sadly, the Villa Voisin was demolished not long after I wrote this)  

Looking at the house, I found myself wishing that I'd known Dédée and "Tante Go". Christened the Little Cyclone by her father, by all accounts Dédée was clearly someone very special indeed - possessed of an inner fire and an unquenchable determination to "make a difference". Knowing that hundreds and thousands of Allied airmen were going out over occupied Europe night after night in their bombers to destroy the Third Reich that had occupied her country, she'd felt compelled to join the fight and to take the same risk as them (many would say an even greater risk) in playing her part in ridding Europe of the scourge of tyranny. After having made 37 crossings of the Pyrenees with her precious cargo of airmen, she was captured in January 1943 as a result of a betrayal, interrogated by the Gestapo when, in a gallant bid to save her fellow Comet members, she admitted to her disbelieving questioners that she was indeed the central controller and organiser of the entire network. She was later deported to Ravensbrück and later the appalling Mauthausen where she somehow managed to survive for two years until the Liberation.

After the war, she was awarded the George Medal (scroll down the link) by King George VI following which she moved to the pre-independence Belgian Congo, then to Cameroon, next to Addis Ababa in Ethiopia, working in leper hospitals and finally to Senegal. In failing health, she eventually retired to Brussels where she died on 13th October 2007 aged 90.

Florentino

The Basque guide who led parties of airmen across the mountains for the Comet Line was the legendary Florentino Goicoechea (above). By profession he was a smuggler (alleged to have been wanted by the authorities on both sides of the border!) and, when awarded the King's Medal, he was described as being 'in the import and export business'! He looks like someone you'd want on your side in a tight corner. Here he is again in 1965:

I'm no great believer in medals, awards or citations, but if medals are to be awarded, I think we should make sure the right ones are given. Dédée and "Tante Go" (and others) received the George Medal (right). I would have said that the Victoria Cross, Britain's highest award for gallantry, would have been more appropriate, given their achievements and the risks they took. After all, they chose to involve themselves, to risk their lives. They could have just kept their heads down and carried on with life and no-one would have been any the wiser. Theirs was not a courage born of the heat of battle and over in a flash but rather it was a cold courage that was measured, a solitary courage, aware of all the terrible risks they were taking (no Geneva Convention or prisoner of war camps for them) and yet they continued the fight for years. I know the VC is intended for military personnel only but who would argue that they were not involved in a military undertaking. I would have made an exception in their case and I firmly believe that all three (and others) fully merited the VC. 

Another safe house was provided by Jean and Marthe Dassié, a family of activists in Bayonne. Their 16 year old daughter Lucienne ("Lulu") was also involved and, after being captured with her parents in 1943, she and her mother spent 2 years in Ravensbruck, a name that still sounds fearful today. Her father Jean survived the horrors of Buchenwald only to die aged 50 within days of being reunited with his family in May 1945. Here are a few lines by Kipling written after the Great War but they apply equally here.

They are too near to be great,

But our children shall understand.

When and how our fate was changed

And by whose hand.

                                                                                                           Kipling        

The "Trois Couronnes"

I'm planning to participate in a 3 day "March over the Mountains", around the distinctive Trois Couronnes (above) and down into Spain, that will take place in September to commemorate the south western Comet Line. The route will re-trace exactly the path taken by Dédée and Florentino and the escapers from Urrugne in France to Renteria in Spain. Now in her eighties, "Lulu" telephoned a couple of days ago to provide some information about the event. It will be a great honour to meet her.

Here's Le Chant des Partisans - (the Partisans song) - which leaves listeners in no doubt as to the views of the occupied population:

  

21st July 2010. Let's enjoy a happier mood now with the Buena Vista Social Club playing Chan Chan live in Amsterdam:

To finish up with, here to take you home is Ry Cooder & The Moula Banda Rhythm Aces with Maria Elena: