Troll-Trek Series 1 Episode 11: The Misty Mountains.

To escape the bugs, we head for damper climes. 

We are to spend the next four days in our Hydeaway deep in the Pyrenees. The deep, dark, and decidedly damp Pyrenees.

Well, it turns out that the damp is a pleasant change, as is the lack of bugs. Even the cottage itself is pleasantly lacking in its usual complement of flies. 

In the last blog (here) I ranted about the garden's insect inhabitants. What I omitted to mention was the plague of bugs inside the house. 

These things come in various colour, having evolved to look like leaf litter. They get everywhere. And I mean everywhere. The other day, on returning from our morning walk into the village for our daily shop and fill of healthy vibes, I removed my hat, only to have a good twenty of these bloody things fall out all around me. They had presumably spent the previous forty minutes wandering aimlessly through my hair without me even realising it! Possibly a clue to how sensitive I am?

Harmless to us humans, their numbers presumably affect my garden plants in some way, BUT, be careful. Don't squish them. They're not called stink bugs for nothing. In France they are called 'punaise', which is also a very commonly used swear word. You can see why...

Anyhow, back in the Pyrenees...

...the warmth of the sun is yet to arrive, so the local wildlife search for alternative sources of heat.

Don't try this at home...

Thankfully, sheltering indoors gives an opportunity to organise a treasure hunt...

...causing both amusement and bemusement.

Once the weather improves we set off hunting wildlife. 

Approach with care.

Good capture!

Talking of wild animals...

So here's a first attempt at time-lapse photography. 

Dawn to Dusk in the Pyrenees.

Now we head north. After a short stopover in Montauban, we are to continue on our brave adventure to the heart of medieval France. The Loire Valley. Hold on to your halberds....

Bug Attack

If you've inadvertantly taken a peak outside your carefully reinforced bubble lately, you may have noticed some disturbingly worrying things going on. Some of those distant countries that you've vaguely heard about have started lobbing explosive things at each other. Our own governments (over here in civilised-land) appear to be in meltdown, caring more for their own pockets than those poor bastards that they are meant to serve. Their only successes seem to be to reduce the tax burden on those much put-upon rich people.

And then there's the climate. 

Oh yeah. That.

Fear not! Get back inside your bubble, where all appears safe and secure.

But....

Maybe not.

Whilst our governments go through the throws of diverting public opinion from the important things in life like, erm, living, to, erm, repelling small boats, the real invaders are creeping almost unnoticed through the gaps in our fortress walls. I don't mean those horrible dangerous foreigners intent on doing the jobs that none of us civilised types would ever think of touching. No. I'm referring to those much smaller alien invaders.

Bugs.

For several years now I have battled against the asian Box moth that is insistent on eating my once proud Box hedge. Every year I have to spray my beloved hedge with disgustingly toxic chemicals in an attempt to keep the bloody thing alive. Although the hedge survives, many innocent insect lives are lost. This year, I tried hard to reduce the warfare to a minimum, in a vain attempt at saving that collateral damage, but to no avail. The increased length of our summer heat has provoked them into a frenzy of hedge trimming. I had hoped our local bird life would come to the rescue. Despite the positive fact that we now have many more birds in our garden, none of them give a shit about those pesky little box moths. They're just too small. not worth the bother.

Unfortunately the bug invasion hasn't stopped there. Our veranda, covered with composite decking, has also been attacked. Not by moths this time, but by those voracious little bastards: termites. 

Much of the supporting structure has already been munched by these greedy little buggers. The remaining struts have simply turned into a fungal fest. Even one of our much prized aged vines has succumbed to the little blighters.

Having ripped up the decking and burnt all the infected wood along with the vine (and many tears), it was finally time to relax before preparing for our three week sojourn in the Troll.

But...

A third wave of bug attack was well underway. 

And this one was even more serious. Even more tear-jerkingly wretched.

Living in sunny climes (and getting worryingly more sunny) we have planted many palm trees. Many of them have grown at a truly impressive rate, dwarfing our expectations. However, in amongst all this glory is a devastating, slow and insidiously fatal disease.

 

Leaves have started to brown and die, leaving just a stump.

And inside this seemingly dead stump, life is teaming. It's life Jim, but not as we know it.

Like something from a low budget Dr Who series, giant bugs thrive, writhe and scare little children.

These horrors are the larvae of the beautiful Palm moth. 

They live for up to two years inside the trunk of the palm happily gorging themselves leaving an empty husk. Here's one trying to eat my finger.

They then metamorphose into that large, beautiful, slightly scary moth, flying like crazed kamikaze pilots around your head in late spring. Like the very best kamikaze pilots they don't eat, they just screw around, intently working on producing the next generation of horrors.

To buck this trend, the most weird looking bugs...

...can be totally harmless. Unless you happen to be another bug. In fact, the whole garden is full of bugs, as noted in a blog from earlier this year here.

I sometimes wonder about this so-called 'joy of gardening'...

I think it's time we left on our next adventure.

Troll Trek, Series 1 Episode 10: A slight delay...

October has been catchup month for us. September saw the organisational extravaganza that was our annual get-together of our year at university, an event that we organised in France six years ago in a chateau just up the road from us and, despite that traumatic experience, have been coerced into self-flagellation once more. A video of this unforgettable event has been stuck down below for those interested in seeing how young we all look these days.

That experience swamped my other responsibilities, such as the fundamental care for my blog follower(s). So, as remarked, let's catchup. 

In August we managed to get away, visiting friends near Gaillac before heading on into the mountains once more.

Devoid of kids, it was now just the two of us and an aging dog. We visited the mother of Toulouse's hometown, appropriately named Letrec.

This is the only village in the Ariège nominated as one of "Les Plus Beaux Villages de France".

Also including...

La plus belle femme de France...

Moving on...

Our drive along the backroads of the Ariège was dominated by trees. Almost two hours of continuous unending plane trees lining both sides of the road. Absolutely mind-numbing. I mean, who in their right mind would plant so many trees? 

Well, apparently it was mister Bonaparte. Although, maybe Napoleon did not actually plant them all himself, but it is reported to be his idea. The reason? To shelter his troops as they marched across the country putting down rebellions and generally intimidating the local population. Really? Pull the other one. Did he have any idea how long it takes for these bloody things to grow? Unless his soldiers were dwarves they would get little shelter until their grandchildren were hobbling along here instead.

Time for some famous quotes...

Chinese Proverb - “Two decades ago would have been ideal for tree planting. And right now is the second greatest moment.”  

Also... “A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they know they shall never sit” – an ancient Greek proverb I think.

“Ancient trees are precious. There is little else on Earth that plays host to such a rich community of life within a single living organism.” – Sir David Attenborough

“A man has made at least a start on discovering the meaning of human life when he plants shade trees under which he knows full well he will never sit.” – D. Elton Trueblood

And my favourite...

“A tree never hits an automobile except in self-defence.” – Woody Allen

Despite all those trees acting in self-defence, we managed to arrive in Bonnac for an overnight stop. 

For some it appears to have been a permanent stop...

The next morning, back into the foothills of the pyrenees...

...to one of our favourite stop-overs, Guzet-Neige. 

There are some great walks here with fantastic views, but on explaining this to Sky...

...she simply went on strike.

Her arthritic knees are sadly giving up the ghost.

So we sat together watching the sun slowly drift away.

We spent a calm couple of nights there...

...before heading back to our favourite restaurant.

The weather had been good to us. Upon our return home it kindly supplied our garden with some much needed water before heading back into an Indian summer. All my carefully tended plants took it upon themselves to go back into flower so as to make the most of this opportunity, probably sensing the apocalypse to come. 

This cute little video shows the variety flowering in a single day this week. 

 

So there we go. Home for six weeks leading up to our next great adventure at the end of this month, included a much anticipated visit to several castles in the Loire Valley. Definitely one to tick off my bucket list. I bet you can't wait for the blogs...

And finally, as promised, a little taste of the get-together of many of my 'old' friends from college days. Almost every year since qualifying in '77 we've held a reunion. Twice in our first year and only missing the pandemic year. We nearly did one even then, but finally realised that an act of mutual genocide probably was not a great idea. 

These reunions are a continuation of our annual College Ball. Every year we had a massive party in the college in Camden Town, always with live bands. One year we had a little known band called Supertramp play, not long before their album 'Crime of the Century' was released. This explains the music used in this video. 

Don't we all look so young!  😵‍💫

Troll Trek, Series 1 Episode 9: Going Home.

 Day 9

It may have taken 9 days, but today the kids slept late for the first time. This, despite the local church bells having some kind of auditory seizure at seven o'clock.

We were heading home. Some of you may be relieved by that, but we weren't. It had been a great holiday. The new van, Trevor, has proved to be a formidable troll. The kids were impeccably behaved, except when they weren't, and the weather had been within human tolerances. You couldn't ask for more.

To stretch out our return journey we stopped in Camon...

...with its Abbey...

...hidden behind a fortified wall...

....where we met some fellow motor-homers...

...and had our final meal...

...before punishing those two habitual criminals...

So we finally dropped the two wildlings at their home to torment their parents instead.

A sad ending?

Not really...

Troll Trek, Series 1 Episode 8: Going North.

 Day 8

The penultimate day of our grand adventure. 

Well ok, we had booked to spend this time in deepest Africa, but needs must and thrombosis screws up the best laid plans. Despite my covid born handicap, we had seen wolves! Maybe not the painted wolves of Africa, but there is no way they could or should be confined to a fenced off area of forest. They live in the savannah, each pack covering a huge...OK Hyde, stop daydreaming. We have booked to go next year and I need to be healthy to do so. Today would be a test of that health. Would I pass muster?

Spoiler alert: No.

It was time to leave the wolves den.

We headed north, down from the highest heights, descending into civilisation.

Civilisation around here is hot. We were used to the lower temperatures of Andorra. We were back in the thirties again. And full sun.

We arrived in Foix, a large town in the foothills of the Pyrenees. A large town with a large castle, conveniently placed high up over the old town. Very high up.

But first, feeding time in the town square.

As we wandered through the town's narrow streets, the temperature rose.

We were no longer under the protective influence of the pyrenean mountains. The nearly 10℃ difference was killing me.

As we climbed further up towards the top of the lofty castle, I realised that I was not going to make it. 

A painful thought to realise your mortality this way. The others went on ahead to the top of the tower. Climbing towards the sun.

I found shade while awaiting their return.

After a brief period of recovery, we drove around aimlessly to find a spot for the night.

We stopped in a small village where the locals immediately rushed towards us and forced us to take some fresh fruit. That'll sort out those outsiders!

The evening was spent entertaining the kids. 

Although I do sometimes have trouble holding their interest.

You will, I'm sure, be devastated to hear that tomorrow will be the last day of this adventure. 😥

(See it here.)