Weather Report

June is about to hit us in all it’s glory and guess what? There are some ski-slopes opening in the Pyrenees this weekend!!

France has had it’s coldest May since the year diddly squat and the tourist trade is down some 80%.

Thankfully I have a simple solution to all this gloom; head over to good old ‘warm welcome in the valleys’ Wales.

Thus I sit here watching the latest downpour having once managed a walk in the woods and clicked one picture before getting drenched, whilst dodging falling trees.

Having spent the last couple of weeks in France without guests, I’ve had significant time to launch a counter attack against the evil weeds that seem to pop out of nowhere.

It has taken a few years to adapt gardening techniques to living near the Med. Despite the showers, I know full well that in a couple of weeks we will be suffering drought conditions. Good for the guests but the ground quickly gets honeycombed with 'cracks of doom’ ready to swallow the inattentive.

Thus I have had to develop systems to combat these desert conditions. Years ago we spent a great deal on a watering system that works splendidly, unless it is dry, whence the farmers claim their right of ownership over every last drop.

Plan B was to water by hand. Hopeless.

Plan C is to protect the roots of all the trees in the lawn. Thus the new 'spotty’ look I have given to the garden; the product of many hours hard labour.

The good thing about this weather is the delay of the dry season, giving me time to prepare and giving the flowers sustenance. So here are pictures of this spring’s flowers. Please note: the excitement level of these pictures may be too much for those of a weak demeanour.

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Geoff, Bernie and the 'thing from the other side'.

A couple of weekends ago Geoff (he from childhood memories of sitting around listening to Jethro Tull) and his better half Bernie came to visit.

As this was Bernie’s ‘first time’ we started gently with the usual walk around Montauban (Geoff & I doing buildings, Bernie & Annick doing shops)…

Before moving on to the more challenging mountaineering project…

…where we came upon this rather strange creature from the 'other’ side…

…then back to Montauban to watch Montauban’s last win of the season (see separate post)

All of which is a good excuse to show off some more photos:

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Nearly, but...

Montauban once had a great rugby team. They were up there with Toulouse and Paris in the premiere division, but money was squandered on wild parties leading them to bankruptcy three years ago. The penalty for this was to be cast out into the amateur league.

Reborn as U.S.M. (Union Sportif de Montauban) they have fought to regain their greatest.

Never more so than this year. They came, justifiably, top of their pool in the 1st division of the amateur league. Then came the play-offs against the other three pools.

Those gaining a place in the final also go up to the profession league division 2.

They nearly did it, winning the first leg of the semifinal against Bourgoin.

Last night they were defeated in the return match, failing in their effort for promotion.

Bums.

Maybe next year…

Ups and Downs

You never know what the future holds. Whatever these daft psychics pretend, or whatever the religious zealots say; life is unpredictable; sometimes good, sometimes bad. And it ain’t fair.

My good friend Martin died today.

He was one of the best.

He suffered greatly for much of his life, but never complained about his lot, about what could have been. Multiple sclerosis is a sick joke. No one deserves it, Mart had it. How fair is that? Mart has had it about 30 years, what has he missed out on in that time, and what will he miss now?

Stuck in a wheelchair, stuck in a bed, stuck in a room. Life can be shit.

But he always had that quirky sense of humour that marked him out as special. He was always way more than his disease. A real friend. There simply ain’t many of them.

Martin. I’m going to miss you, you bastard. Thanks for being you. I know you won’t read this, but I will from time to time. Thanks for being part of my memories.

Love

Phil

if you go down in the woods today...part two

As previously outlined in this blog, there are many and varied dangers when walking out in the woods, including bears and, er, Annick…

However, all these dangers are nought to fear. They are themselves all in fear of greatest predator out there, man.

But don’t get too cocky. There is one life form out there in the woods that has no fear. If you threaten it, it responds not, but stands there immune. If you charge at it screaming it moves not.

I know this because one of the bastards poked me in the eye with a pointed stick.

What are these creatures that live without fear yet are in a constant state war? Trees of course (the clue was in the pictures).

Environmentalists try to tell us that man is the only life form that goes to war against its own species. Crap. Apart from all the animals out there that war against each other, trees of all kinds are at constant war, fighting for light, crushing their young.

So why did they pick on me? Sticking me in the eye hardly seemed like the actions of a pacifist. Having spent a week walking around with a patch on one eye, I now know what a pirate must feel like. My fish are certainly upset as each time I try to feed them they watch sadly as the food sprinkles down the wrong side of the glass. Sky is grateful that she’s not a fish.

Thus, from personal experience, I can inform you that ‘better than being poked in the eye with a pointed stick’ is probably a good thing.

Fear not dear readers, I’ll soon be back behind a camera, but in the meantime here’s some pics of trees…

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Stranger in a Strange Land

A lone Canadian arrived one day last week, professing to be a long lost cousin (once removed), looking for a room at the inn. Gullible chaps that we are, we took in this itinerant traveller and, instead of favouring him with a few coppers, took him instead on a tour of the local sights.

Adam, for this was his name, had travelled all the way from Canada, via Portugal and England (his sense of direction being a little suspect) to spend a week with us. He was brave enough to try out some of the local delicacies, although I managed to persuade him to try the food instead. This did come as a shock to him, as previously duck had not rated high on his favourite food list.

We started our touristic adventure locally in Montauban itself, which he thought quite quaint.

We then moved east to Bruniquel, a small hilltop village and castle overlooking the Aveyron. It’s steep streets and colourful cafés make for good photography…

…and then on to Penne, which has the most stunning hilltop castle ruins perched way up over a precipice. Building this must have been done by some really insane Frenchmen, although I bet they never worked on bank holidays or in the month of August, and probably took two hours for lunch…

Adam seemed constantly amazed at the beauty of these old villages, but then we took him to spend a day in the superb Saint Cirque Lapoppie, north of Montauban overlooking the valley of Aveyron, which has to be one of the most picturesque villages in the world…

It is packed full of many and varied old buildings, stuffed with good restaurants and cafés, and (unfortunately) overflowing with souvenir shops selling (even more unfortunately) some pretty good quality stuff.

Having been overdosed with too much ‘quaint’ we thankfully then moved on to the Pyrénées, where the weather made Adam feel more at home (piddling with rain etcetera). I’m sure that he will return to the colonies full of memories of beautiful places, and grateful for the chance of a decent hamburger.

For a slideshow of all the many photos taken in these quaint villages, click on any photo below:

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