188. Haute-Provence, Jura and home again.

10th June 2012. Back home last night after a much-needed break in the Alpes de Haute-Provence followed by a few days up in the Jura. We'd booked at one of those charming country hotels at Xxxxxxxx - set in its own beautifully maintained grounds - that France seems to specialise in. It was a slightly old-fashioned, traditional hotel but it was none the worse for that. It was a welcome reminder that we were in la France profonde. After a hot (34°C) 9 hour drive from Bayonne we were more than ready for dinner in the cool dining room.

Sadly, this is where I have to say we were disappointed. Not by the friendly welcome, the personal service, the impeccable table setting or the comfort - no - of all things it was the food. There's been a creeping malaise in French restaurants over the last few years and that is the ever-more prevalent practice of buying-in pre-prepared meals. Running a restaurant in France today has become increasingly expensive - taxes, staff costs, cost of produce - such that many restaurateurs are having to cut corners wherever they can to maintain their prices at a reasonable level. We've noticed that where an affordably-priced restaurant features a comprehensive multi-choice menu, it's almost a given that they are using pre-prepared meals bought in from a company like Brake (I'm ashamed to admit that it's a British company*). Every meal we had at the hotel had that familiar reheated appearance and taste of institutional food. So now, if you see a Brake's delivery van parked outside a restaurant that you were planning to visit, you know what steps to take.. (Whoever said, "Bloody great big ones!" would be right!)

* (Edited to add: The American food giant Sysco completed a $3.1bn takeover of Brake in 2016.)

Traditionally, one of the great pleasures of travelling within France has always been the opportunity to sample the different regional specialities - which was why we were disappointed to be offered these anonymous products from a food factory kitchen. A depressing subject. I'm reluctant to name the hotel because we gave the hotel top marks in every other respect. 

Moustiers

Over the next few days we explored the local area - starting with Moustiers (right) which is rightly famous for its faïence pottery. It would be fair to say that I don't usually wax lyrical about pottery shops but the Bondil shop caught our eye with its range of stunningly original hand-painted designs that featured, among others, 18th century hot air balloons (Montgolfières) - & no two designs were alike. However, all this came at prices that would make even a banker wince.. (3 figures for a plate for example).

The lady in the Bondil shop had spent some time in Sheffield (UK) of all places and was very chatty. She was only too pleased to provide us with the full fascinating history of faïence pottery but despite this and the undeniable temptations of the shop we left empty handed. (Definitely somewhere to visit following a major Lottery win). After this, we wandered around Moustiers' picturesque streets, where the dog was happy to discover the pleasure of quenching his thirst in one of the many preserved traditional lavoires we found in the region.

The jewel in the crown of the region is unquestionably the Gorges du Verdon.. (apologies for this jerky link). The Gorges du Verdon is a spectacular natural phenomenon that, if I'm anything to go by, few people have heard of. Second in size only to the Grand Canyon, the Gorges du Verdon is over 20 kilometres long and, at its widest, is 1.5 kilometres across. In some places the canyon is 700 metres deep. It was only in 1905 that a French caver led an expedition through the gorge for the first time. The trip took a little less than four days and the expedition concluded that the area was definitely inaccessible to humans.

Gorge du Verdon

However, the situation has changed somewhat since those days. Today, there are two roads along the top of the gorge with numerous lookouts - such as Point Sublime, La Palud sur Verdon and Pont de Lártuby - for visitors to gaze at the wonderful rock formations and glittering emerald green waters far down below. There are several footpaths that take you to the banks of the rivers. The sheer scale of it all took our breath away. 

A propos of nothing, I noticed that the black ants in this area were a good ¾" long. That's all!

One day, we stopped at Saint-Laurent-du-Verdon and walked east in blissful solitude until we reached the lakes and waters of the Verdon. We saw only a couple of other walkers as we walked through the unspoilt countryside, with its profusion of wild flowers, the unfamiliar sight (nowadays) of butterflies, fields of red poppies and rocky outcrops with the smell of wild thyme in the hot dry air. Dragonflies hummed about our feet. In places we were up at around 1,000m (~3,000ft) close to the tree line. Many of the stunted trees (oaks, juniper, pines) had been formed into wind-blasted shapes by the Mistral - the northerly wind that funnels down the valleys that reportedly has the power to unhinge people. This was wild country.

The cliffs were pockmarked by ancient caves where troglodytes had once lived.  If living in a cave ever becomes a lifestyle choice again, then I can't imagine a better place for it. It looked to my unexpert eye that the limpid green waters below would be well stocked with fish.

We reached a lake and the dog explored the full range of possibilities open to him. Living by the sea-side, it was a novelty for him to be able to drink the water. He stood up to his shoulders in it staring into the middle distance with a happy expression, with water draining from his chops..

The trail had been marked with a very occasional stripe of yellow paint on a rock or a tree - far less intrusive than enamel signs and pathways bordered by fencing. We could have got lost if we'd tried hard enough - which really gave the impression of being out in Nature, as opposed to being corralled.

After a few hours we were back in the village and the dog was dry again. We headed off back to the hotel past fields that were planted with row upon hypnotic row of lavender for the perfume industry - the classic postcard image of Provence. 

At the hotel, we changed into swimming things and headed down to the swimming pool. It was here that the pooch learnt a valuable lesson in life.

He's always been used to entering water - ie, the sea - via the shallow end.. Taking one look at the inviting waters of the pool, he suddenly threw himself into it with a wild frenzied leap - only to discover that it was about 4 feet deep! After a depth charge-like entry splash, he erupted from the depths with eyes like dinner plates! Not all dogs can swim instinctively it appears. He was vertical in the water flailing at it with his front paws and making no headway. Madame managed to grab hold of him before any damage was done and pulled him out.. He won't do that again! Luckily no-one else was about.

Another day we headed south to Cotignac, a photogenic village with a open air market. It turned out to be an impossibly attractive and archetypal Provençal village and, perhaps predictably, it was full of northern Europeans. We walked by market stalls laden with the local produce - cheeses, wines, spices, charcuterie, countless varieties of honey, bread, fruit and veg of course and then the olives, nuts, tapenades etc etc. It was like a cornucopia of everything we like..

All too soon it was time to leave Provence and head north for the Jura. We set off and came across the delightful small town of Gréoux-les-Bains. Unfortunately we didn't have time to stop and explore - that will have to wait for another time - but it's in the book!

This song by Françoise Hardy came up on the radio as we were leaving the Haute Provence via winding hill roads - this catchy ever-so-French 60s record seemed to capture the mood of the Provençal landscape perfectly.. All legs and cheekbones, Françoise epitomised French cool in the 60s for many (well, for me really!)

 

As the sun rose high in the sky, we started casting around for somewhere to stop for lunch. After days of eating reheated dinners, we wanted some real food. South of Grenoble, we spotted a roadside restaurant with a few ubiquitous white vans parked outside: Chez Robert et Maguy at Chauffayer (Haute-Alpes). A mother and son operation, she looked after the tables while the son cooked. The restaurant was minimally decorated - all their effort clearly went into the food.. The choice was either soup or soup - followed by filet mignon or faux filet with gratin-dauphinois & green salad.. We ordered 2 faux filets. The steaks were rare and tender and the gratin was deliciously home-made.. some cheese was eased down with a small carafe of red. Coffee. This was the kind of food we'd been looking for.. How much? Think there were a few euros change out of 30€. Aah.. that was more like it. Highly recommended.

Baume-les-Messieurs

We arrived in the Jura where we were staying with family. We took our hostess out to the 9th century Benedictine Abbey at Baume-les-Messieurs - quite rightly classed as one of the most beautiful villages of France acording to this. Situated in what could be called an idyllic location (with no fear of exaggeration) in a secret gorge with 600ft high limestone cliffs all around, the ancient Abbey reminded me of the breadth and depth of France's rich cultural and historical heritage - perhaps only equalled, if not surpassed, by Italy.
      

Again, Lady Luck smiled on us at lunchtime. While looking around the Abbey, I'd noticed a doorway intriguingly marked "Gothique Restaurant"..(now sadly closed it appears). We stepped inside to find ourselves in what had once been the former medieval Abbey kitchens. It was like passing through a time warp.. The charming serveuse showed us to a table while we gazed all around. Strange music played in the background - it sounded like some modern standards being sung in the manner of  Gregorian chants ("Yesterday" was one I remember)

The 18.50€ menu was as follows: 

Terrine maison à l’aspérule odorante et figues, brioche maison aux cèpes, 

crudités de saison à l’huile de noisettes

Quenelles de carpe maison à la reine des prés

Gateau tiède au chocolat, sauce caramel, glace vanille artisanale et craquelin au pralin

As it was a treat, we had a bottle of Vin d'Arbois red.. which was excellent too. In fact, we brought some home with us. 

I've had quenelles de brochet before but never carp.. One of the best lunches we've had.. and if you're ever in the vicinity, treat yourself. It's one of those memorable experiences that come around all too seldom.

Edited to add: I've just read that it closed in September 2014. Great shame..

We also visited nearby Château-Chalon (officially one of the most beautiful villages in France) - a splendid hilltop village perched up on the cliffs overlooking the vineyards that produce the very special Vin Jaune (yellow wine) that this region is famous for. Apparently it's illegal in the US..(?)

Here's a long & interesting video about Vin Jaune:

 

Tête de veau

Finally, together with some relatives who lived locally, we went out for lunch at a nearby restaurant. I spotted tête de veau (calf's head) on the menu. This is one of those legendary French dishes that could easily be used as a nationality test.. (eat it - and you're in.) I read somewhere that it's Jacques Chirac's favourite (he cannot be serious!).

I decided the time had come to take the plunge so I ordered it as my starter. I have a rule that I don't normally eat food that moves or wobbles. When the waitress brought the first courses out I fixed my plate with a beady eye as it seemed to be wobbling - in fact, it was wobbling. Tête de veau is normally served with a sauce gribiche. My dish seemed to be composed largely of square chunks of a nameless gelatinous substance that were each a good ½ inch thick with a few strands of meat attached. I ate the meat and was unable to proceed any further - despite much vocal encouragement! The waitress very kindly let me off the hook and offered me a replacement starter instead. No prizes for guessing how I answered that one. In self-defence, mine didn't have anything like the amount of meat as shown in the photo above. As I said to someone, this dish would be OK in wartime.. and best eaten during a blackout!

Here, you can see how the dish is prepared - not recommended for readers of a nervous disposition!

Saturday, 16th June 2012. Down to the river this morning for a hot & sweaty outing in a mixed VIII. Not having rowed for a few weeks, for a variety of reasons, my hands quickly blistered up, but a few more outings should harden them off again.. It was so humid out on the river that my ears were dripping! I got up at 6am to paint a new door for the cellar before the temp started climbing. Just finished fitting the door with new handles before putting it back in place. I have to say that French door hinges (above right) are brilliant.. To remove a door, all you do is take hold of it and lift straight up.. and off she comes. Re-fitting it is simplicity itself.. a 5 second job. Just locate the upper part of the hinge over the lower and jiggle the door around until all three hinges are lined up and bingo! Door hinges in the UK are still the prehistoric variety (above left) - at least they are to my knowledge. Removing a door in the UK was always a fiddle.

Can't remember if I've featured this clip before - it will give your French a good work-out.. Jean-Luc Petitrenaud (TV foodie) goes to Biarritz..

21st June 2012. The weather hasn't settled yet for the summer - on Tuesday it was only 15° or so. We went to Irun in Spain yesterday - it's no more than 20-30 mins from here - and the town was clearly readying itself for the Fêtes de la Saint Marcial (which takes place from 27th June - 1st July) as most of the shop windows were full of red and white. The car said it was 32½C as we headed back into France around lunchtime. At that point we decided to turn off and stop at the Buvette de la Halle at Saint-Jean-de-Luz for a spot of lunch. We managed to find a table in the shade - phew - it was hot there.

Today's all set to be another hot one!

23rd June 2012. Another hot morning on the river today - I had an outing in a mixed coxless IV and we made progress after a shaky start. For some reason, the boat wanted to turn to the left all the time - but despite that we had an enjoyable sortie. Did a sweaty 16km and when we returned, the 'responsable' decided it would be a good day for an apéro.. (never knowingly refused!)

If you've never been to Paris, here's a reminder of the greatest city in the world. There's nowhere else quite like it - so if you haven't been - what are you waiting for? If you're married with kids - park them with the in-laws and go - just the two of you.  It's one of the very few cities that, even if you visited it every year for the rest of your life, has the power to remain endlessly fascinating. You'll thank me for this!

Find a little restaurant somewhere.. and then who knows what might happen..

187. Bayonne and the plancha both sizzle..

25th May 2012. Summer's here! Yee-haar! Forecast is for ~28° today. Shorts and t-shirt weather. Other signs of summer? Bayonne's resident busker - I call him SaxMan™ - is back after a long winter absence! He's taken up his customary spot opposite the Monument aux Morts and he's playing the very same 10 second riff over and over again that he played last year. He must be driving the poor people in the shop behind him crazy.. Also, I dragged the plancha out of the garage, up the steps and it's now installed on the terrace and ready for action after a wipe down and general cleaning off of assorted crud & spiders etc. Here's a short clip that gives some tips about cooking with a plancha (or a flat top grill as it's called in the video):

More plancha recipes here.

We've just had sardines and mackerel fillets on our plancha.. eased down with some cold sangria. Mmmm.. I usually avoid mackerel as I always found it oily in England. I'd say that the ones we've just had were the best fish of any kind that we've had for a very long time, and even better with some Basque hot sauce. This Basque sauce is so tasty and piquant - Madame always adds a dash or two when sauté-ing veg and it really gives them a lift. Well worth trying and available online from the link above. If you do order some, don't be tempted to go for the mild one - the 'Forte' one as in the picture is perfect. The only thing I missed was a cup of Greek coffee - I'm completely out of it at the moment so I'm doing cold turkey. When I've asked around for it in town, all I get is blank looks.. even in the delis in Biarritz. There's an element of "This is the Pays Basque - we don't do foreign food here!" Fortunately, I found a stockist on the French ebay site so there's a package on its way.

I went for a ride along the Nive this afternoon - and like a dummy I forgot my bottle of water.. I went as far as Ustaritz which is 25+km. I was gagging for a cold drink when I returned home! It's 29 in the shade in the garden.

This weekend sees 160 rowers from all over France converging on Bayonne to take part in the annual "Trois Rivières" event. This is an arduous event - especially if the temperatures are up as high as they are today. They'll row 72 km in 3 days on the Gave, the Adour and the Nive. I did it 2-3 years ago and I was doing John Wayne impressions for a few days afterwards. In the evening there's much jollity and conviviality so, all in all, it's a great weekend.

The Fêtes de Bayonne is only a couple of months away. This is, by any standard, madness writ large. Bayonne has some 40,000 inhabitants but over the 5 days (& nights) of the Fêtes, some 1.3 million people flood in.. The rowing club organise a regatta during the Fêtes and rowing here is quite informal so you won't see stripey blazers, bow ties etc as you might elsewhere. But make no mistake - there are some extremely dedicated oarsmen and women here. We usually disappear over the days of the Fêtes and head for the mountains as town becomes unbearable.

30th May 2012. We're having a few days away now - we're taking a long lazy swing through Provence before heading up to the Jura region.. Should be back in mid June..

Meanwhile, here's a London 'Bobby' showing that failing a Riverdance audition needn't be an end to your dreams of stardom..!

Here's how it should be done:

186. Wet and windy Pays Basque

19th May 2012. Thunder and lightning overnight here, followed by the welcome hiss of rain. Of course, the dog was quick to take advantage of the situation by jumping up on the bed and shivering in time with each rumble of thunder.. 

I found this video this morning.. it's Manfred Radius, a glider pilot in the US, who carries out spectacular displays at night trailing sparks from fireworks mounted on his wingtips - all accompanied by classical music. Stirring stuff! (I couldn't place the beautiful music at first - but to put you out of your misery it's the Intermezzo from Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana) 

20th May 2012. I was walking the pooch this morning along the beach at Anglet when there was the sudden unmistakable roar of military jet engines. Looking south towards Biarritz, I spotted seven Alpha Jets of the Patrouille de France arrowing across the coast in a relaxed 'gaggle' out into the bay at low level (~200') before heading north under threatening grey skies - looking for all the world like predatory sharks as they returned to their base after taking part in a weekend airshow at Saint-Jean-de-Luz..

Rugby is the sport down here in the South West. The fact that it was successfully implanted here owes much to one Harry Owen Roe, a Welshman who came here to Bayonne on a rugby tour over 100 years ago and liked it. (Think he might have met someone!) There's a lot more about Harry Owen Roe here. He was clearly held in such high regard that the town even named the street that runs down the side of the Aviron 'garage' Rue Harry Owen Roe after him!

Football is definitely a minority sport here and driving through the countryside it's surprising just how many rugby goal posts you see. Here's a clip from TVPI, the local TV channel, that gives an idea of the passion and enthusiasm for the game in the south west and the Pays Basque in particular:

Finally, in case you've been wondering what Pipérade is all about, it's a classic Basque dish and it has to be one of the world's tastiest. Sparing no expense, here's a chef from Carrefour to show you how it's made. This is a really simple dish to prepare and as I said before, it's delicious. So, no excuses for not trying it out!

NB: Try to use the freshest of eggs and Bayonne ham sliced as thinly as possible.

185. The Big Makhila

8th May 2012. Much of France is closed down today as it's VE day. I stopped at the Monument aux Morts (right) on my way to buy a baguette as there was a ceremony imminent - a contingent of élite 1er RPIMa soldiers (Special Forces) from their citadelle across the Adour were present as well as anciens soldats with their standards from former times and conflicts. At previous ceremonies like this that I've seen here, the music was presented via a CD player or a very small number of musicians. Today was different - a military band did the honours and, as usual, the dry rattle of the sidedrums and the blaring trumpets during the Marseillaise sent a shiver through me..

More stirring stuff from the Biarritz-based Basque choir Oldarra:

This clip originates from across the border in the Spanish Basque country..

I think you have to be Basque to appreciate some aspects of Basque culture..

I've mentioned 'Makhilas' before here but without really going on to explain what they're all about. A Makhila is a traditional Basque walking stick - but with a difference..! They're made of medlar wood (néflier in French) - a highly resistant, dense and durable hardwood that is often engraved. The lower part is finished with a decorative ferrule while the top part is fitted with a hand grip - often of tightly woven leather - topped by an ornamental pommel. A quick twist of the handgrip removes it to expose a short spike - thus converting the walking stick into an instant weapon. They are hand-made and made-to-measure - the craftsman taking into account the owner's height and weight. 

No two are the same. They are highly prized and often offered as presentation pieces to mark a special occasion.

The wood of the slow growing Medlar tree is hard, even, fine grained and polishes well and is reported to be practically unbreakable. The wood has practically no commercial value as the tree stays relatively small and its branches aren't necessarily straight. Because the wood is hard, it has been used for spear points, hunting and warfare clubs, fighting sticks and making windmill parts - especially some of the wooden gearwheels. The process of making a Makhila starts in the spring with the carving of lines on a living branch of a tree that's at least 15 years old before harvesting the branch in the winter. Over the summer, the design of the carving expands with the growth of the tree. 

The bark is removed and the branch straightened with the aid of the heat of a kiln - this operation requires a great deal of skill. The wood is then allowed to dry naturally for several years after which the wood is stained using family techniques handed down for generations. The stick is finished with made-to-measure decorative fittings which are cut, carved, braced and decorated pieces of brass, silver, German silver or gold. As noted above, the handle is either metal or tightly plaited with leather strips and finished with a horn or worked metal pommel. The handle can be easily removed to reveal a forged steel spike. Traditional Makhilas are inscribed with a short verse of the owner's own symbolism in Basque. The making of a Makhila is a tradition passed down from father to son and there are very few Makhila makers left. I know of only two - one here in the centre of Bayonne and another at Larressore.

Scroll forward to 10:44 on this next clip to see Makhilas being made at nearby Larressore:
I noticed with a start this morning that the Caisse d'Epargne building (that I mentioned in post # 182) in the historic centre of Bayonne is being demolished! The mayor must obviously be an avid reader of the blog!

Changing the subject just a little, I noticed the other day that McDonalds here are now selling a McBaguette!

(NB: McDonalds is known as McDo here - pronounced McDough) All of this reminded me of that memorable dialogue in "Pulp Fiction" between Vincent and Jules on the cultural differences between the US and Europe:

It's 28 in the shade here this afternoon - where did that come from..?☺ 

This week's special offer is a free trip over the Pays Basque in a hot air balloon (or un vol en montgolfière as it's known here). It's best in full screen:

 

10th May 2012. Forecast to be 32 this afternoon - the temp's soaring past 29 in the shade at the time of writing (1pm)..

Thirty minutes ago at 5pm it was 33½° in the shade in the garden.. phew! The dog's re-discovered the pleasure of lying spread-eagled in all his favourite cool places in the house.

12th May 2012. We had the house double glazed 2-3 years ago by a charming couple who run a company based at Saint-Jean-de-Luz. (highly recommended) They came and measured up before returning a few weeks later to fit the new windows. They finished in 1½ days and left the house spotless. A couple of weeks ago we received an invitation from them to an apéro-dinatoire to mark their 1st year of business at their second shop they've opened at nearby Anglet. As they know we don't require any more windows it was just a nice friendly goodwill gesture. We went there yesterday evening - there must have been 20 or so other happy customers - and we had a very pleasant evening.. There was a beautifully presented selection of food - plus various drinks - soft drinks, wine, rhum-based punch, whisky, pastis etc etc. When we left, they gave us a complimentary umbrella and a sports cap.

This morning I was all set for an outing in a beautiful Swiss-built wooden shell coxed IV.. we'd got as far as putting the boat on the water and we were sitting in it when someone had a technical problem which meant we had to change boats. The only boat remaining was a glass fibre yolette (left). Wider and heavier than our more usual boats, these are what beginners here usually start in. I have to say I wasn't looking forward to the sortie but once we'd heaved it off its rack, put it on the water and set off I was pleasantly surprised. We were a mixed ability crew - which I approve of - two of the guys had only taken up rowing last October. I was at 'stroke' and as we headed off up-river - the last boat to leave the pontoon by some margin - I was immediately impressed by how solid the boat felt and soon the boat was running free in the water between strokes with that distinctive sound.

I forgot to mention that the previous Saturday I'd been invited to attend the annual meeting of an association concerned with the Comet WWII escape line that operated successfully in this area. The meeting was held in Hendaye - situated right on the border with Spain - as a gesture to those travelling from San Sebastian. I'm now a committee member. Planning for this year's commemoration is virtually complete with just a few minor tweaks resulting from suggestions raised at the meeting. This year, instead walking over the original mountain crossing route that ran from Ciboure, Urrugne, Bidegain Berri farm, Bidassoa, Sarobe farm, Renteria that was used by Comet up to early 1943, we'll use one of the inland routes (via Anglet-Sutar, Ustaritz, Larressore, Espelette, Dantxaria) that were adopted after the arrests at Bidegain Berri in January '43. This has been thoroughly researched with the families involved and I believe it follows closely the inland routes used later on in the war. In a separate initiative, Philippe Connart, Cheryl Padgham and Geoff Warren conducted their own research and it will be interesting to see how similar the routes turn out to be. 

In conjunction with the descendants of those courageous wartime passeurs, the committee has arranged a splendid long weekend that I'm sure all attendees will enjoy. Apparently, the final day sees a climb steeper than anything experienced on the more traditional route. This should put to rest any lingering fears 'out there' that this year's commemorative march will be but a pale shadow of the traditional Ciboure route.

184. Après moi, le déluge

2nd May 2012. It looks like the weather has finally turned warm and dry again here. In common with much of the rest of western Europe we've been deluged with water here for the last hundred years / well, since Christmas anyway / last month (delete as applicable) and, with the sun up and running, the garden has belatedly started a growth frenzy.

The map (right) shows the average annual precipitation across France. The isolines on this map are called isohyets. Each isohyet connects places that receive equal average annual precipitation. Each band of color indicates places that fall into a range of 100 millimeters of precipitation. Red areas on this map, such as Chamonix and Biarritz, receive more than 1,300 millimeters of precipitation each year. Purple areas, such as Marseilles and the southern tip of Corsica, receive between 400 and 500 millimeters of precipitation each year.. 

I have to mention the lawn here - I know I'm going to regret saying this but at last it's starting to look reasonable with no bare patches. We've tried a number of different types of grass seed before landing on the one that seems to be working best - Gazon Rustique Sud. This is a coarser bladed grass of the type that seems to flourish in the US - hopefully it will resist the baking summer heat better than its predecessors.. And if anyone else out there has been plagued with birds pecking the life out of their garden then I can highly recommend dangling some old CDs in strategic places. I was slightly sceptical about this old trick but since I hung about half a dozen up a week or two ago, the garden has been bird-free - which is a pity as I like having birds around - but, for some unknown reason, they'd been pecking the bejasus out of the lawn.. Tip: Des O'Connor CDs seems to work best!

This cartoon reminded me of the frustration I felt 6 months ago after my PC had a major meltdown due to a virus that I inadvertently let in.. PCs have become such a necessary part of our daily lives as we turn to them more and more - accessing news from all parts of the globe, managing our finances online, linking up with friends via a webcam on Skype and a thousand other things we never dreamed of. Consequently when our PCs have a hiccough, the impact is felt immediately and across a whole range of our activities. This cartoon sums up the feelings I had the last time it happened.  

It's a long time since I've featured a slide guitar here so here goes - it's from that underrated little film "Crossroads":

6th May 2012. Yesterday evening at ~5pm the new SNCF bridge being built to replace the 152 year old structure in the background - built by Gustave Eiffel (yes, him!) - collapsed into the Adour. Full story here. (English  translation here) (Slideshow here)

Bridge in Troubled Water

The Sous-Préfet of Bayonne has been quick to act - for safety reasons, he has closed the river to traffic. That means, for the immediate future, that my former club - Société Nautique de Bayonne - will not be able to row upstream from their position just a few metres downstream of the two bridges and, secondly, rail traffic has been forbidden to cross the old Eiffel bridge just a few metres away.

The two rowing clubs in Bayonne (Société Nautique de Bayonne and Aviron Bayonnais) have co-existed in an uncomfortable relationship since Aviron Bayonnais (my club) was formed in 1904 by a breakaway faction of members from the Société Nautique following the expulsion of an individual for irregular Ugandan discussions (ahem!), perhaps more befitting the former head of the IMF! As the more turbulent waters of the Adour downstream from the Société Nautique don't consistently lend themselves to rowing, the Société Nautique might elect instead to row on 'our' river, the Nive. Who knows, it could even lead to a thawing of the relationship and perhaps a rapprochement between the two clubs. 

183. Spare me the analysis - where do I vote?

23rd April 2012. "Our" old village in the Pays Basque featured on lunchtime national TV news (TF1) today.. yes, it was time for Ascain (right) to hit the national consciousness. TF1 ran a piece that showed how the election voting process was handled in a far distant corner of France - and Ascain is about as far and as distant from Paris as it gets. There, it's the age-old tradition that voters first go to church to refresh their souls (Lord, give me strength!) - after which they repair to the bar of "our" small hotel to refresh their throats (Lord, give me another!) via a pastis or similar (& there's nothing quite so similar as another one!). Having fortified the major relevant elements of the inner man, they then feel up to stepping across the road to the Town Hall to attend to the small business of electing a president.

Election time in France is a curiously low key affair as, unlike in the UK, political posters don't appear in gardens or front windows of private houses, there are no witty bumper stickers and we haven't had a single leaflet stuffed into our mailbox - not a single one! We also haven't had to endure a single doorstep conversation with any party activists either. No, here it's all left to the broadcast and print media. The degree of media cynicism is remarkable though - a local newspaper shop displays advertising placards outside for national magazines and under a picture of the leading presidential candidates one magazine front cover asked "The biggest lies of the campaign - Who lies the most? Who lies the best?"

You'll be pleased to hear that there'll be no more election coverage here as I'm sure - if you're anything like your correspondent - you've had it up to here with politologues (political journalists) speculating over the minutiae of the political news. Suffice to say, win or lose, the talking, forecasting, denying, analysis, accusing, speculation, interviewing, extrapolating and prognosticating will carry on for a few more months yet until we're all brain dead with electrocephalagrams that will look like a drive across the prairies - because that's just the way politicians like us..!

France and Germany share a joint TV station known as ARTE and the following video is one of their productions. It features Aquitaine - which is the region of France where the Pays Basque is found. The film's starting point is the Pays Basque - and it covers pottoks (the wild ponies of the Pays Basque); Sare - where there's a piece on Pelote basque; the famous restaurant Chez Margot at Socoa (just across the bay from St Jean de Luz); Larressore - where they still make makhilas (I must get around to explaining these one day) and then it's up to Les Landes and an inside look at Course Landaise.. There's more but I haven't watched it right through myself yet.

 

182. Rain-fuelled rant!

18th April 2012. I came across this old map (below) the other day in a document someone sent me. I would say it must date back to pre-war times. What I find interesting about it is the amount of green space that lies between the towns to the west of the RN10 (highlighted in red).

Today, much of that has been built up and driving around the area, I'm constantly reminded of this as developers are steadily building on every available plot. Where vacant plots don't exist, existing buildings and often houses are torn down so that revenue-earning apartment blocks can be erected in their place. Nowadays, the three towns of Biarritz, Anglet and Bayonne that, pre-war, were completely separate are now effectively one and it's now known as the Agglomération Côte Basque-Adour. Try saying that with a mouthful of Gâteau Basque! This is one area of France where there are more buyers than sellers and my guess is that the nationwide drop in house prices that was reported yesterday won't apply here.

We spotted the new Cité de l'Océan (below) the other day when we were down on the sea front at Ilbarritz.. I've always thought that architects here in France are capable of creating the most stunning buildings or structures. They are equally capable of erecting the most monumental eyesores - like the one below.. (is that a building - or the box it came in?)

In the first category I would place buildings such as the dazzling Louvre Pyramid - conceived by I. M. Pei - that has more than a touch of genius to it. In my humble opinion it sits perfectly in front of the Louvre - and it looks as though it's always been there.

Then there's the breathtakingly hypnotic viaduct at Millau - designed by Norman Foster. This most elegant of structures defies the imagination in its extreme simplicity and, on seeing it for the first time, most people are reduced to an awed silence as they goggle at the bridge stepping out across the void with seemingly little to support it. To lend some scale to the picture, some of the support towers are higher than the Eiffel Tower.. Truly stunning.

In the second category are those that (in my view) miss the target completely. Examples? Well, close to home, there's the branch of the Caisse d'Epargne (savings bank) at Bayonne that, if only it was nearer the sea, could be offered to the Navy in times of national need to serve as a submarine pen. Built in the historic quarter of Bayonne, a few paces from the ancient cathedral, it's a deliberate slap in the face of history and without any redeeming qualities at all. Well, maybe one - the roof keeps the employees dry. (Happily, it's been demolished since I wrote the previous paragraph and some apartment blocks are going up in its stead).

Then there's that monument to industrial quantities of reinforced concrete - the Ministry of Finance, Bercy (below) in Paris. Again, brutal, squat and with a brooding mass, it straddles the riverside boulevard and juts out into the river Seine. It could well be George Orwell's Ministry of Truth (from his novel Nineteen Eighty-Four) What on earth were they thinking of..? No question - this has a top 3 place in my list of buildings that would be greatly improved by demolition. 

Then we come to the Pompidou Centre - or, as I like think of it, the Emperor's new clothes writ large in 15,000 tons of steel and 50,000 cubic metres of reinforced concrete. Again - what were they thinking of? There's a kind of intellectual arrogance at work here that says if you dislike the building/structure/oil rig (call it what you will) then you must be a reactionary old f**t.

Then there's the Opera at Bastille.. It looks like nothing less than the headquarters of an insurance company or a nuclear power station. Enough said.

By way of contrast, here's the magnificent Opéra Garnier and I don't think I need to add a single word:

When I look at Paris I see one of the most beautiful cities in the world. We have a duty to pass it on to succeeding generations intact - we don't have the right to vandalise it. What will these excrescences say about us to future generations? 

19th April 2012. I've been re-seeding 'this blessèd plot' (aka the lawn) and so far so good.. green shoots have appeared in all the right places. Fortunately April has brought with it many gentle showers - rather than the torrential downpours that we've often been at the receiving end of. The grass is looking green and hopefully this period of wet weather should ensure (ha-ha!) that the lawn has a fighting chance this year!

Just the other side of the Pyrenees lies the small town of Burguete in Navarre, Spain. It's known by some for one thing: it's where Ernest Hemingway lodged in 1924 & '25 en route to the running of the bulls at Pamplona.

The Basque country (on both sides of the border) would have been vastly different in those days with few concessions to tourism and it must have been a real pleasure to travel around it. While the coast has changed beyond all recognition, the inland regions remain more or less intact as they were - even in the height of summer few of the legions of tourists that throng the coastal resorts explore the hinterland. There, it's not difficult to understand the attraction the country had for the author. Here's an extract from "The Sun Also Rises" that describes the moment Hemingway and his friend arrived in Bayonne.

In the morning it was bright, and they were sprinkling the streets of the town, and we all had breakfast in a café. Bayonne is a nice town. It is like a very clean Spanish town and it is on a big river. Already, so early in the morning, it was very hot on the bridge across the river. We walked out on the bridge and then took a walk through the town.

I was not at all sure Mike's rods would come from Scotland in time, so we hunted a tackle store and finally bought a rod for Bill up-stairs over a drygoods store. The man who sold the tackle was out, and we had to wait for him to come back. Finally he came in, and we bought a pretty good rod cheap, and two landing-nets.

We went out into the street again and took a look at the cathedral. Cohn made some remark about it being a very good example of something or other, I forget what. It seemed like a nice cathedral, nice and dim, like Spanish churches. Then we went up past the old fort and out to the local Syndicat d'Initiative office, where the bus was supposed to start from. There they told us the bus service did not start until the 1st of July. We found out at the tourist office what we ought to pay for a motor-car to Pamplona and hired one at a big garage just around the corner from the Municipal Theatre for four hundred francs. The car was to pick us up at the hotel in forty minutes, and we stopped at the café on the square where we had eaten breakfast, and had a beer. It was hot, but the town had a cool, fresh, early-morning smell and it was pleasant sitting in the café. A breeze started to blow, and you could feel that the air came from the sea. There were pigeons out in the square, and the houses were a yellow, sun-baked color, and I did not want to leave the café. But we had to go to the hotel to get our bags packed and pay the bill. We paid for the beers, we matched and I think Cohn paid, and went up to the hotel. It was only sixteen francs apiece for Bill and me, with ten per cent added for the service, and we had the bags sent down and waited for Robert Cohn. While we were waiting I saw a cockroach on the parquet floor that must have been at least three inches long. I pointed him out to Bill and then put my shoe on him. We agreed he must have just come in from the garden. It was really an awfully clean hotel.

Cohn came down, finally, and we all went out to the car. It was a big, closed car, with a driver in a white duster with blue collar and cuffs, and we had him put the back of the car down. He piled in the bags and we started off up the street and out of the town. We passed some lovely gardens and had a good look back at the town, and then we were out in the country, green and rolling, and the road climbing all the time. We passed lots of Basques with oxen, or cattle, hauling carts along the road, and nice farmhouses, low roofs, and all white-plastered. In the Basque country the land all looks very rich and green and the houses and villages look well-off and clean. Every village had a pelota court and on some of them kids were playing in the hot sun. There were signs on the walls of the churches saying it was forbidden to play pelota against them, and the houses in the villages had red tiled roofs, and then the road turned off and commenced to climb and we were going way up close along a hillside, with a valley below and hills stretched off back toward the sea. You couldn't see the sea. It was too far away. You could see only hills and more hills, and you knew where the sea was.

20th April 2012. I remember reading an old saying amongst carpenters, "Measure twice, cut once.." and for some reason I woke up this morning with it in my head. It struck me that that philosophy could be applied to many areas of life.

Before making the decision to move here from England, for example, I remember making a list of the pros & cons for making the move and another list of all the risks. The first list proved pretty conclusive in terms of whether or not a move was the correct decision. As for the second list, all the risks I identified could be managed - except one: the currency exchange rate. As most of our income was in £ sterling, and we were moving to the euro-zone, this had my full attention. I thought the worst that could happen would be that the £ would gradually decline in value against the euro over the years. We were prepared for that eventuality and so we moved across.

Soon after we moved however, the exchange rate turned out to be the very risk that bit us and it bit us hard. In Britain, Gordon Brown (an unelected nobody who was doing Prime Minister impressions at the time) let the pound slump in value - an unprecedented 30% drop - against the euro in a few short months. He didn't declare it a devaluation - he simply didn't call it anything. He just carried on sleepwalking as though nothing had happened. Fortunately, we'd done our planning and we had sufficient flex to be able to live through it - but the importance of planning wasn't lost on us.

If anyone reading this is thinking of making a similar move, I'd say the hardest part is not the move itself, but taking the decision to move. Once you've decided, the rest should happen according to your plan.

22nd April 2012. We've been having a fair share of rain lately and the garden is thankfully sprouting in all directions! I took the dog down to the beach at Anglet this morning - there was a fresh westerly wind blowing in a few showers from the Bay of Biscay, the slate green sea was rearing up in choppy waves and there were a fair number of surfers out there. All very bracing! Needless to say, the dog's ears were horizontal!

181. April showers in the Pays Basque

6th April 2012. Forecast for the morning is for rain, but as they often get it wrong for this corner of Aquitaine, I'll take a peek out of the windows in the morning to see if rowing is on the cards. As it's the first Saturday of the month, it's also the day for an apéro after the outing..

Haven't played any Chet Baker in a while so - to put that right - here he is with Almost blue:

And another - Around Midnight - the classic late night jazz track that Thelonious Monk made all his own - but played here by Chet:   

7th April 2012. A good row this morning - had an outing in a mixed VIII and we did 14km.. Stayed on a bit longer afterwards as it was that time of the month (1st Saturday) for an attitude adjuster! Still haven't got used to drinking whisky at midday though.. Had a quick word with Perle Bouge who was there having a vigorous work-out on a rowing machine. She said she'll be going to the Olympics in July. In case you haven't read previous posts about her, she was involved in a road accident I believe when she was 19 and is now confined to a wheelchair. Despite that, she took up rowing a couple of years ago and won a Silver medal at the recent World Championships in New Zealand. She has a fierce determination to succeed and I hope her efforts will be rewarded this summer.

I know I included this track by Amy Winehouse fairly recently but I make no apologies for putting it in again. She had one of the best female jazz/blues voices of my memory. Such a tragedy that her personal life spiralled out of control the way it did.

Jardin Public, Biarritz (in 2006)

10th April 2012. Situated opposite the magnificent old station (now the theatre) in Biarritz, the Jardin Public used to be a haven of 'coolth' and shade even on the hottest of wind-free summer days when the heat can sometimes wrap the Côte Basque in a clammy embrace like a warm damp blanket. The square was a leafy green enclave shaded by some mightily tall old trees and it was the perfect place to pause on a bench after lunch in the tranquil shade offered by the canopy high above. The dog enjoyed the respite from the hot pavements too and it wouldn't take him long before he'd be 'paws-up' on the grass having a snooze. There were some ancient cedars that spread their limbs out high and wide and others (chestnuts perhaps?) that I couldn't name to save my life. Here it is (left) as it was in 2006.

Unfortunately, a great storm screamed in out of the Bay of Biscay in January 2009 and it devastated the coast from the Pays Basque up as far as Bordeaux - flattening 60% of the endless pine forests of Les Landes. It wreaked havoc with these majestic old trees in the Jardin Public as can be seen here:

Here's a tree going down in that great storm.. 

Now, the Jardin Public has totally lost its former oasis-like quality, as the removal of the trees has exposed it completely to the relentless heat of the sun. While it's no longer possible to sit there in summer and unwind in the shade, it remains a favourite place at other times of the year. If we could afford a house (haha!) or, more realistically, an apartment in the centre of Biarritz, something around here would figure high on our wish list. 

12th April 2012. It's been a while since I've featured a Basque choir and one of the very best is Gogotik.. This particular one by them always sends a shiver through me:

I've been meaning to mention the Musée Basque in Bayonne for some time.. It is a remarkable collection - I believe the largest collection of Basque artefacts anywhere - and no visit to Bayonne should overlook it. It starts off with simple displays of the pastoral life of the Basques and as you penetrate through to the upper floors the scope gradually widens until the full glories of the museum's contents are revealed. (By the way, admission is free on the first Sunday of the month).

I've previously mentioned here the emblematic painter Spanish Basque Ramiro Arrue who captured the stylised essence of Basqueness in his work to such an extent that his vision of the Pays Basque is still shared by many and it endures here to this day. Here's a two-part video about him:    

This next clip features some of the distinctive headstones that may be found in the cemeteries here. They're not sad places, lying forgotten under a few dripping yew trees with weeds rampant - they're kept spotless (like the rest of the Pays Basque) and provide another insight into Basque culture.