High Summer 2009

It's often so hot at night that we leave a window open in the bedroom, covered, of course, by a mosquito net. So, all kinds of noises come in during the night, including ambulances, trains and church bells. But there are also wildlife noises, including at least one owl, which the experts say is a tawny owl. One other sound puzzled me, for a few nights. Eventually, I realised that it was the frogs in the Dordogne river, about 100 metres distant, croaking away like the Frogs of Aristophanes. I first heard them when camping four years ago, just before we bought the hovel.

Early last summer, the French classes, with the English classes, had a lunch in a restaurant near Issigeac, and we sat with a Frenchman, Jean-Claude, who spoke a little English but a lot of French. After discussing the relative merits of the Irish and French economic models, I discovered that he was a cyclist, and that I had regularly traversed a road near to where he lived. Then, it dawned on both of us that we had met briefly on that road, about six months previously. He and a friend had come out from a side-road, and I had spoken briefly to Jean-Claude, before they disappeared down another side-road. So, I wrote down his phone number, so that I could phone him and arrange joint bike-rides. Naturally, I lost the piece of paper before I could use it. This year, just last month, the same criminal gang had another outing, a picnic in a big barn this time, and there was Jean-Claude again. This time I took his number, and he also took mine. I rang him a few days later and arranged to meet in St. Aubin on Sunday morning. After 20k or so, we met a cyclist going in the opposite direction, whom Jean-Claude stopped to speak to. He wanted to introduce him to me. I realised immediately that I already knew him better than I know Jean-Claude. He was Rene from my walking group. He is also the friend that was with Jean Claude when we met briefly a year and a half earlier! Even France is small. So, the three of us now go out regularly, once or twice a week. It's somewhat limited by the fact that Jean-Claude has a business in Pau, 220 km away, where he spends three days a week, usually driving up and down on the same day. They bring me on all kinds of routes, through farmyards, vineyards and along river and canal banks, roads that I would never have discovered on my own. Jean-Claude is determined to learn English, so half the ride is spent teaching him how to pronounce difficult phrases (for a Frenchman) like “daughter-in-law”. He says a sentence in French first, so I'll know what it's about, then in English and asks me to correct it, while speeding down a hill at 30 miles an hour! It does give me a chance to practice French conversation, as does the walking group.

The walking group meets every Tuesday morning at 08:30 (except for the trip to Bordeaux, when the time was 07:00), at a pre-announced venue, and we walk for about two and a half hours, over all kinds of terrain. This includes country lanes, roads, and forest trails, some of which can be rough and muddy, especially in winter. Walks proceed in all weathers, snow and thunder included. There are around 20 members, only 4 of whom are not native French speakers (one Irish, one Dutch, one English and one Belgian). So, all conversation is in French. Sometimes I have to stop some of them in mid-conversation, to find out what all the laughter is about. On one occasion, it was about some unfortunate who found himself with a sudden onset of the QSs, while riding a scooter. I was sorry I asked! They called it “une grosse betise”. But, I'm trying hard to understand spoken French, and it's not easy!

Last Monday, 13^th July, we had the father and mother of all thunderstorms. The temperature had been in the high 30s in the afternoon, which is often the signal for fireworks. For the whole night (the fun started about 11 at night) it was difficult to sleep, what with the heat, the thunder, the roar of the rain (about 3 inches fell) and the blinding flashes from many directions. It seemed very close at times, and it was. Five houses in Monbazillac, only a few miles away, were hit and burned. It made headlines on the national news on Tuesday. Of course, by lunch time on Tuesday, the weather had recovered, and we could hear them testing the sound system for the Bastille Day fireworks later in the evening. Sure enough, the fireworks went ahead, and were quite spectacular. They fire them from an island in the Dordogne, near the town centre, and begin at 10:30, just when it gets dark. Huge crowds turn up, dragging folding chairs, mistresses, picnic baskets, children, go-cars etc. etc. It's a national holiday here with everything closed. And, when it falls on Tuesday, many people and organisations take the Monday as well “pour faire le pont” (as Agnes would say). So, it's been a long weekend.

The temperature just now is 36, with serious thunder warnings for tonight, a repeat of Monday, when we had no such warnings. Pompiers are on standby throughout more than half of France!