About 10 years ago (maybe more actually) I went to my Uncle Bert's funeral. I had not managed to get to Auntie Bea's when she passed away a year or two before. They were a very interesting pair and we held them a bit in awe when they came to visit us in Scotland when we were children. Us with our broad Scots accents and hill billy ways and they seemed so posh and sophisticated with their English accents and his huge cigars. They lived in Birmingham in Mosley Road, in a beautiful big house that was full of nooks and crannies and huge staircases, and downstairs basements and all sorts. The house had (it seemed to me) lots of entrances - I was only there once when I was about 7/8 and it stuck in my memory.
He was a brilliant engineer and worked for a huge car manufacturing company and she was an occupational health nurse as I recall. He had huge hairy eyebrows and was always very kind and interested to know about you.
Our cousins Robin, Betty, Cynthia and Rosemary were all older than us so we didn't know them very well and they just seemed so other worldly.
Anyway, when I was at Uncle Bert's funeral which was in Earlston in the Scottish Borders where they had retired, I was struck by a lovely gesture which his family had done and that was to stick lots of photos of their mum and dad over the years, all around the pub walls (where we were having the wake). What really struck me was that there were lots and lots of pictures of Bea and Bert out on the hills walking.
I love walking and at that time no one else in my family had ever seemed interested - certainly not when we were young. There they were, Auntie Bea (my blood relative as she was my mum's sister) and Uncle Bert - the hill walkers.
Some thing I never knew and sadly never shared with them.
Saturday 31 May 2014
Tablet
My mother used to make delicious tablet (it is like fudge but creamier) and butterscotch toffee and other treats like coconut ice and treacle toffee. I am surprised we four had a tooth left in our heads. We would go off to school with little packs in grease proof paper. We never ever had school dinners and came home every day for a nutritious two or three course lunch. My mother was forever making cakes and buns and we were forever eating them.
My sister Mary often makes the same tablet although she says she has found a better recipe - I doubt it. Some of her family live in far flung corners of the world and she regularly posts tablet to them or if anyone is going to visit them or they come home to see her, out comes the pack of tablet ready for travel.
So at any one time if you look up, the chances are some of Mary's tablet is winging its way across the sky to keep her sons happily munching.
Mary and I flew to Tbilisi a couple of years ago with all sorts of goodies stowed in our cases, including tablet. One time she took a Christmas cake and brussel sprouts to Tbilisi.
On another occasion, one of Mary's sons left his tablet (posted down to him by his mum of course) in his office (in London at the time). A thief broke in and among other stuff he nicked, he ate all the tablet! The boss was more upset about the tablet! The police even dusted the empty tin for prints. So there might even be people sat in Wormwood Scrubs who have tried her delicious tablet.
Here is my Mum's original recipe as written down by Mary. I used to love scraping out the pan after when it was luke warm...mmmmm.
Tablet
1lb Caster sugar
2ozs Marg
half tin condensed milk
quarter pint milk
Put all in pan, dissolve slowly over low heat.
Bring to boil, stirring for 10 mins, put in sink (the pan she means) and beat till gets thicker and coats side of pan, says for 10mins but don't think it will take that long. Should see it beginning to set. Pour into greased tin. Mark squares when warm.
But of course I also love another kind of tablet. That is my Google Nexus 7 which I received as a birthday gift from my family before we moved to France. I cannot imagine life without it and am still learning all its features. It does everything except make a cup of tea!
My sister Mary often makes the same tablet although she says she has found a better recipe - I doubt it. Some of her family live in far flung corners of the world and she regularly posts tablet to them or if anyone is going to visit them or they come home to see her, out comes the pack of tablet ready for travel.
So at any one time if you look up, the chances are some of Mary's tablet is winging its way across the sky to keep her sons happily munching.
Mary and I flew to Tbilisi a couple of years ago with all sorts of goodies stowed in our cases, including tablet. One time she took a Christmas cake and brussel sprouts to Tbilisi.
On another occasion, one of Mary's sons left his tablet (posted down to him by his mum of course) in his office (in London at the time). A thief broke in and among other stuff he nicked, he ate all the tablet! The boss was more upset about the tablet! The police even dusted the empty tin for prints. So there might even be people sat in Wormwood Scrubs who have tried her delicious tablet.
Here is my Mum's original recipe as written down by Mary. I used to love scraping out the pan after when it was luke warm...mmmmm.
Tablet
1lb Caster sugar
2ozs Marg
half tin condensed milk
quarter pint milk
Put all in pan, dissolve slowly over low heat.
Bring to boil, stirring for 10 mins, put in sink (the pan she means) and beat till gets thicker and coats side of pan, says for 10mins but don't think it will take that long. Should see it beginning to set. Pour into greased tin. Mark squares when warm.
Friday 30 May 2014
Rock on!!
We have been listening to the ZZ Top band on CD this week and it reminded me of when we went to the Planet Rock 'Rhodes Rock' festival in Greece a few years ago. It was two weeks of live tribute bands - all stonkingly good - Led Zeppelin, ACDC, Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix and ZZ Top to name a few.
We got the chance to meet the band members in after show parties around the island - it was great. Weird talking to someone who looked and sounded exactly like Hendrix!
I was particularly impressed with ZZ Tops - a fabulous tribute band from Devon. The band members were really sweet and had very real looking long beards!!. ZZ Tops website
The following March, we got the chance to see some of them again at Great Yarmouth in a Legends of Rock weekend. Ok the venue was not so good but the music was fabulous!
On the Saturday night, we had just seen the ZZ Tops (tribute band with amazing beards!) and Jeff had gone to the to the loo. I was sitting watching the crowd and who should I see walking towards the bar and right past where I was sitting but the two men in beards!! Wow!
I jumped up and hugged them both (thinking they might remember me from Rhodes Rock).
I gushed " you guys were fabulous!" and "well done".
Kisses all round! Yeah.
They looked bemused and did not say much - grinned a bit.
Then Jeff came back and said "...you know these two guys you were hugging, they were just a couple of fans in fancy dress beards"
What!
We got the chance to meet the band members in after show parties around the island - it was great. Weird talking to someone who looked and sounded exactly like Hendrix!
I was particularly impressed with ZZ Tops - a fabulous tribute band from Devon. The band members were really sweet and had very real looking long beards!!. ZZ Tops website
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| The real ZZ Top |
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| The ZZ Tops - tribute band from Devon |
The following March, we got the chance to see some of them again at Great Yarmouth in a Legends of Rock weekend. Ok the venue was not so good but the music was fabulous!
On the Saturday night, we had just seen the ZZ Tops (tribute band with amazing beards!) and Jeff had gone to the to the loo. I was sitting watching the crowd and who should I see walking towards the bar and right past where I was sitting but the two men in beards!! Wow!
I jumped up and hugged them both (thinking they might remember me from Rhodes Rock).
I gushed " you guys were fabulous!" and "well done".
Kisses all round! Yeah.
They looked bemused and did not say much - grinned a bit.
Then Jeff came back and said "...you know these two guys you were hugging, they were just a couple of fans in fancy dress beards"
What!
Val's daughter and granddaughter
Last November (2013) I lost a very good and amusing friend who passed away very suddenly. I did a little Blog then - My friend Val.
We realised this week that Val's daughter Sharon and her granddaughter Lily lived not too far away from where we were staying near Cannes. We got in touch and arranged to meet. I had never met them before but felt like I knew a bit about them. I remember how fondly Val spoke about them, especially about Lily.
Within a short time I could see so much of Val in Sharon, and in Lily. Lily is 10 and has the wonderful mischievousness and sense of humour that we all loved in Val. Just the way she holds her head, the glint in her eye.... It was a poignant meeting, but so sweet and great to share some funny memories.
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| Sharon and Lily and wee |
I was telling Sharon that after we moved to France I was forever getting text messages from Val but sent in error! They were for her lifelong friend and next door neighbour, another Maggie. They used to say things like 'see you in the Hilltop (pub) in 5'. I used to reply 'I don't think so Val, unless I can get a flight to Thornton' I saw her a few times when we popped back to the UK but never got any text messages meant for me, except once. Just the week before she died.
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| so like her granny |
Another memory was from when I first met Val and she was (typically as it turned out) dressed as a chicken. No-one else was dressed up, it was not a fancy dress occasion, but she just wanted to do it to mark someone's birthday and that was what she was like all her life.
I wonder if Lily will be in a chicken outfit one day? I am sure she will!!
Sur le Pont d'Avignon
We drove past Avignon twice recently and seeing the signs for it on the motorway reminded me of my first school concert. It was an 'around the world' theme and each school year performed a song or dance from around the world.
I was in year 4 or 5. As usual I had not been listening properly and remember being confused about what we were doing and found myself in an 'american square dancing' group - which I hated and made it obvious!
I was then relegated to another role 'more suited to my skills'.
I became an arch of the bridge at Avignon and had to stand holding hands with three others with sacks over us painted like bricks with our heads popping out the top. We were the bridge at Avignon!
I remember singing (heartily, once I got into the idea of it all, although it took a while and many rehearsals):
Sur le Pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse, l'on y danse
Sur le Pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse tous en rond
Les beaux messieurs font comme ça
Et puis encore comme ça.
Sur le Pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse, l'on y danse
Sur le Pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse tous en rond
Les beaux messieurs font comme ça
Et puis encore comme ça.
and so on....
This was of course the start of my thespian career which has waned on and off for years! Later in life I was a nun in the Sound of Music (when I worked at Darlington College), I was a chorus girl in 'Guys and Dolls' (Darlington Civic Theatre) and the Genie in Aladdin at same College.
I have not been called (or had a calling) to the stage since (although some might say differently).
The chips are ready....
As we have trundled along in the caravan these past few weeks, it has reminded me of a funny story my Dad used to tell. He was very funny at telling funny stories and usually laughed himself so much you were in stitches before you had heard the full story!
One of them was from way back 'in the old days' I am guessing about the 1950s when he and my mother were driving (in a big black Wolsley I think but no doubt my brothers will correct me on this) with their little caravan up in the north of Scotland. His aunt was with them - Auntie Betty. She was a real character and was nicknamed 'Durham' because she used to live at Durham Road in Edinburgh.
One day they were driving along while Durham was in the caravan with the chip pan on cooking chips!
My Dad loved chips.
He remembered her 'chapping' on the window and shouting,
"Wullie, you better stop now, the chips are ready".
One of them was from way back 'in the old days' I am guessing about the 1950s when he and my mother were driving (in a big black Wolsley I think but no doubt my brothers will correct me on this) with their little caravan up in the north of Scotland. His aunt was with them - Auntie Betty. She was a real character and was nicknamed 'Durham' because she used to live at Durham Road in Edinburgh.
One day they were driving along while Durham was in the caravan with the chip pan on cooking chips!
My Dad loved chips.
He remembered her 'chapping' on the window and shouting,
"Wullie, you better stop now, the chips are ready".
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| C. 1950s Wolseley (from web - not family in pic!) |
Tuesday 27 May 2014
Le Phénix
In an April Blog I was harping on about being run over in a minor car accident and my dad gave me a book while I recuperated (see ). The book was the Phoenix and the Carpet and I have always liked the analogy.
We saw a real life example en route to the Petite Camargue, when after a few hairpin bends we were gasping for a coffee. Stopped at a road side restaurant (called Le Phénix) that at first glance looked burnt out and then we saw they were serving...
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| le phénix risen from the ashes (sort of) |
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| 'our' car and the wee caravan |
.... she never opened 'er mooth!!
I know I keep going on about technology - but well it is marvelous!! One of my favs at the moment is the car sat nav.
We never used to have one and managed fine as Jeff tends to have one built into his head.
We have however come to rely on 'her' and have regular conversations like
"what did she say? Was it first or second left?"
The fact that 'she' speaks in French caused us a lot of consternation at first, au rond point prendre la deuxième à gauche. What??
The other day something went pear shaped and we were getting tetchy over a wrong turning. I said accusingly, "...and she never opened her mooth".
We never used to have one and managed fine as Jeff tends to have one built into his head.
We have however come to rely on 'her' and have regular conversations like
"what did she say? Was it first or second left?"
The fact that 'she' speaks in French caused us a lot of consternation at first, au rond point prendre la deuxième à gauche. What??
The other day something went pear shaped and we were getting tetchy over a wrong turning. I said accusingly, "...and she never opened her mooth".
Dongling
Jeff got a dongle (sounds painful) when we registered for a phone contract with Orange France and had let the contract on it lapse as he never needed to use it.
We decided to reinstate it as it would be useful in none WIFI places (wouldn't want to miss the Archers now would we).
First time we tried it, it would not work. Strange we thought.
Jeff tried to ring Orange France on their english speaking helpline. Two hours and many expletives later - no joy.
Went into the Orange shop in Limoges and then in Figeac. Explained the problem and got them to ring various helplines in French and English - felt mad with frustration that no-one could seem to help.
The dongle (who on earth invented this name?) was doing all the right things with flashing lights and so on.
Despair.
Then (after 4 days of this) one of the customer service guys in Figeac Orange shop passed the problem on with great reverence to a young female english speaking 'whiz kid' to see if she could help.
She turned it over (the dongle is a little oval shaped device smaller than a mobile phone) and pointing to a number printed on a label on the back said "have you keyed in this password?"
"What password?" said Jeff.
"Oh no!" said I
We decided to reinstate it as it would be useful in none WIFI places (wouldn't want to miss the Archers now would we).
First time we tried it, it would not work. Strange we thought.
Jeff tried to ring Orange France on their english speaking helpline. Two hours and many expletives later - no joy.
Went into the Orange shop in Limoges and then in Figeac. Explained the problem and got them to ring various helplines in French and English - felt mad with frustration that no-one could seem to help.
The dongle (who on earth invented this name?) was doing all the right things with flashing lights and so on.
Despair.
Then (after 4 days of this) one of the customer service guys in Figeac Orange shop passed the problem on with great reverence to a young female english speaking 'whiz kid' to see if she could help.
She turned it over (the dongle is a little oval shaped device smaller than a mobile phone) and pointing to a number printed on a label on the back said "have you keyed in this password?"
"What password?" said Jeff.
"Oh no!" said I
Our car - well that's a laugh
We have a right hand drive but French registered Renault Espace. We snapped it up when it came on the market for its size, it was automatic and diesel - ticked all our boxes. In December 2012 (yes that is 6 months ago) it developed a problem with the heating (you notice these things when your hands are frozen to the steering wheel). So we took it to our local Renault garage run by a lovely chap, Sebastian. He speaks little english so with much mime and waving of dictionaries we explained the problem. It was 10 days before Christmas. He said it would be mid Jan before 'France PLC' returned to work and so he would lend us an identical car (except it is left hand drive).
So mid Jan came and went and no sign of our car.
We told Sebastian we had to drive to the UK late January and back in February.
"That's fine" he said and double checked his insurance and gave us written permission to take it out of the country.
Drove to the UK and back
"ah" said Sebastian (mid Feb) "the problem is not what we thought so we are now going to order replacement parts. But I am very busy with contract work so it will be a week or two".
"Ok fine" we said,
In March we said to Sebastian, "we are going to the Gironde this week and to Barcelona next week".
"That's fine" he said "take my car".
In April we said, "where our car?"
"Oh don't worry" he said "I was not happy with the new parts and have asked for replacements".
In May, "oh Sebastian we are going to Provence and need the car to pull the caravan".
"No problem take our car. I have not had time to complete the job!!"
So we are now hoping after driving this car for 6 months over 4000 miles, we will be getting ours back some time soon.
Six months for car repair - must be a record?
Anyway our French language is not brilliant, so hopefully we are getting our car back,,,,,
So mid Jan came and went and no sign of our car.
We told Sebastian we had to drive to the UK late January and back in February.
"That's fine" he said and double checked his insurance and gave us written permission to take it out of the country.
Drove to the UK and back
"ah" said Sebastian (mid Feb) "the problem is not what we thought so we are now going to order replacement parts. But I am very busy with contract work so it will be a week or two".
"Ok fine" we said,
In March we said to Sebastian, "we are going to the Gironde this week and to Barcelona next week".
"That's fine" he said "take my car".
In April we said, "where our car?"
"Oh don't worry" he said "I was not happy with the new parts and have asked for replacements".
In May, "oh Sebastian we are going to Provence and need the car to pull the caravan".
"No problem take our car. I have not had time to complete the job!!"
So we are now hoping after driving this car for 6 months over 4000 miles, we will be getting ours back some time soon.
Six months for car repair - must be a record?
Anyway our French language is not brilliant, so hopefully we are getting our car back,,,,,
New Age Old Age Hippies
This camping trip has presented an opportunity for dressing down, growing whiskers (that's Jeff not me), wearing strange hats/bandanas, open toed sandals/bare feet, feeling peaceful, singing Bob Dylan songs and smiling a lot. Have decided we are entering a new phase in life as new age old age hippies. All we need (is love) and a few flowers painted on the caravan and a pop festival.... Just trying to imagine what Jeff will be like with long hair - Oh dear.
The Archers - tum ti tum ti tum ti tum...
We are both Archers fans and often find ourselves discussing the latest goings-on as if it were real. My sister joins in, she too is hooked, We usually download the latest episode at bedtime or while having breakfast. Changed days.
Years ago we (usually me) used to laboriously record the omnibus episode on a tape recorder by setting the alarm after 45 mins to remember to change the tape to the other side. We then took it in turns to listen to it in our cars en route to work during the week. Woe betide anyone who forgot to record it or if we accidentally recorded on top - no downloading in those days! We had to record it as we were never in one place long enough to hear it on the radio on a Sunday or at 2.00 pm or 7.00 pm when it is broadcast every week day.
As we sit here listening to an episode I am thinking it is great how we Brts adapt to living abroad!!
Years ago we (usually me) used to laboriously record the omnibus episode on a tape recorder by setting the alarm after 45 mins to remember to change the tape to the other side. We then took it in turns to listen to it in our cars en route to work during the week. Woe betide anyone who forgot to record it or if we accidentally recorded on top - no downloading in those days! We had to record it as we were never in one place long enough to hear it on the radio on a Sunday or at 2.00 pm or 7.00 pm when it is broadcast every week day.
As we sit here listening to an episode I am thinking it is great how we Brts adapt to living abroad!!
Brideshead Revisited
We both remember bits of Brideshead when it was on TV in the early 1980s but had never viewed it all. Last time we were in the UK we got the whole series in DVD boxed set for £3.00 (British Heart Foundation of course).
The other day/night we were a bit restless so we put the kettle on, and watched the whole lot - fab!! It's the sort of thing you can do quite snuggly in a two berth caravan when its raining and there is no room to swing the proverbial cat!!
My fav quote: “Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there's no room for the present at all.” Oh yes.
The other day/night we were a bit restless so we put the kettle on, and watched the whole lot - fab!! It's the sort of thing you can do quite snuggly in a two berth caravan when its raining and there is no room to swing the proverbial cat!!
My fav quote: “Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there's no room for the present at all.” Oh yes.
The only slight hitch was horror of horrors at the end of disc 10 we realised there must be another episode but the boxes clearly contained only 10!! Looked on You-Tube and there it was (apparently this episode 11 was made later), so we were able to watch it after all. Phew.
So if anyone has twelve hours to spare, a huge tea pot and wants to borrow the set.....
So if anyone has twelve hours to spare, a huge tea pot and wants to borrow the set.....
26th wedding anniversary in the Var
We wanted to do something special for our anniversary amidst a few weeks of many special things.
Opted to drive round 5 beautiful little hill top villages - all magical and made a perfect backdrop to our day.
Started at Favence where the weekly market was in full swing. Sampled a few lovely olive dishes on the market stall - superb. Then onto Seillans for our anniversary lunch and then round to Callian, Tourrettes and Montauroux in the north west of the Var region.
Home via the Lac de Saint Cassien
Opted to drive round 5 beautiful little hill top villages - all magical and made a perfect backdrop to our day.
Started at Favence where the weekly market was in full swing. Sampled a few lovely olive dishes on the market stall - superb. Then onto Seillans for our anniversary lunch and then round to Callian, Tourrettes and Montauroux in the north west of the Var region.
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| Lunch at Seillans ''Le Gloire des mon Pere |
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| In hat shop window (in Cannes actually) |
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| Ah those were the days |
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| View from Tourrettes |
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| Another friendly french driver!! where do they learn to park? grrrrr |
Nice
Spent the day in Nice. Traveled there by train - about 40 minutes journey and only 14 euros for us both return! A good start. Our first time on a double decker train - great view from upstairs - beats British Rail.
We loved Nice. What a vibrant city - and this on a Monday! Took the little train up to the old castle ramparts - what a view...
.... and then walked along most of the Promenade des Anglais (about 8 kms long) which stretches right round the whole of the sea front. Wonderful heady atmosphere - nipped into the Hard Rock Cafe Hard Rock Cafe in Nice so we could add to our list of HRCs we have been in; Barcelona 2001, Paris 2012 and now Nice in 2014. Not bad - soon have them all ticked off at this rate.
Watched people having fun with the magical street fountains:
Think we would love to go back to Nice one day but had to dash for the train as limited parking meter at Juan les Pins where the car was parked. Hilarious as we had to stand upstairs - train packed with tea time rush hour! Just like standing up on a plane I imagine - very strange and Jeff's backpack clobbering everyone made us very popular....
We loved Nice. What a vibrant city - and this on a Monday! Took the little train up to the old castle ramparts - what a view...
.... and then walked along most of the Promenade des Anglais (about 8 kms long) which stretches right round the whole of the sea front. Wonderful heady atmosphere - nipped into the Hard Rock Cafe Hard Rock Cafe in Nice so we could add to our list of HRCs we have been in; Barcelona 2001, Paris 2012 and now Nice in 2014. Not bad - soon have them all ticked off at this rate.
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| Street Fountains Nice |
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| Fabulous display - all day and night! |
Think we would love to go back to Nice one day but had to dash for the train as limited parking meter at Juan les Pins where the car was parked. Hilarious as we had to stand upstairs - train packed with tea time rush hour! Just like standing up on a plane I imagine - very strange and Jeff's backpack clobbering everyone made us very popular....
Sunday 25 May 2014
Grasse and Antibes
We drove up to Grasse about 20 kms north of Cannes. A city famous for its perfumeries, it sprawls up over great heights with many tall tenement type houses in the centre. We visited the Fragonard Museum and had a really interesting tour learning about the history of perfume in Grasse. In the 16th Century Grasse was a famous for its tanneries. The tanners used the natural perfume essences of the region to get rid of the odour of tanning. Grasse, remains the world capital of perfumery with knowledge passed from generation to generation in a still labour intensive process which retains quality. I ran out of arms to try all the samples so we both emerged reeking of violets, roses, bergamot and lavender to name but a few - poor Jeff!
The city itself had a slightly run down feel to it...
Drove back towards the coast and into Antibes - a delightful bustling little port with a mainly pebbly beach on the outskirts. The old fort made famous by Monet in 1888 looks over a splendid harbour currently being refurbished with adjacent state of the art underground car parking.
We walked around the city ramparts
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| Fragonard Museum |
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| Grasse |
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| Grasse side streets |
The city itself had a slightly run down feel to it...
Drove back towards the coast and into Antibes - a delightful bustling little port with a mainly pebbly beach on the outskirts. The old fort made famous by Monet in 1888 looks over a splendid harbour currently being refurbished with adjacent state of the art underground car parking.
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| Antibes harbour and old fort |
We walked around the city ramparts
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| View towards Nice from Antibes city ramparts |
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| Just found lost parking ticket - phew! |
The Man in the Iron Mask and Fort Royal
When I was about 7 years old I was awarded a prize book at school 'The Man in the Iron Mask' by Alexandre Dumas. I still have it and of course it fascinated me. I was thrilled to find that we could sail to the Island of Ste Marguerite one of the Lerins Islands to visit the real life location Fort Royal which was the inspiration for the book. It was only a 15 minute sailing in lovely warm weather. The museum at Fort Royal was very interesting and we spent most of the afternoon there soaking up the history both past and present.
'The Man in the Iron Mask' a prisoner whose name no one knows to this day, was incarcerated there for 11 years and eventually he was moved to the Bastille where he died in 1703.
Other cells have had beautiful wall murals painted by John Le Gac, a French artist who volunteered to be 'a prisoner' in the early 1990s.
"There are some years when I dreamed of going to prison to paint quietly.... I remembered during my visit to the island, crossing the long avenue of eucalyptus with the museum curator who introduced me to the mystery of the Iron Mask and the long history of Arab prisoners ... who were killed ... and many others. .... On the one hand I had a faceless man, the other too many names, facts and history, and still alive in me that old desire for imprisonment for attempting to perform a final effort of concentration and drill the thin membrane that separates me from the unique work which I feel I had long prepared... It is in this spirit of voluntary prisoner painter, I started 2 July 1992 paintings in the cells".
- Jean Le Gac
The famous artist photographer, painter, sculptor and architect Georges Rousse had an exhibition at Fort Royal from 6 July to 30 September 2013 creating geometric shapes, lines or words in suspension. Visitors can see in the hallway of the prison a gold star that appears floating in space. Rousse said, ….this simple geometric shape, the star is a powerful symbol of our societies: myth or religious belief, the star of the shepherd leads the Good News. Star sailors, the Southern Cross, or the North Star, indicate the naval route.
Alas we had to leave this lovely little island -must return one day and would like to see her sister Island Ste Honoratus too...
'The Man in the Iron Mask' a prisoner whose name no one knows to this day, was incarcerated there for 11 years and eventually he was moved to the Bastille where he died in 1703.
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| an enigma forever |
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| The Man in the Iron Mask prison cell |
Other cells have had beautiful wall murals painted by John Le Gac, a French artist who volunteered to be 'a prisoner' in the early 1990s.
"There are some years when I dreamed of going to prison to paint quietly.... I remembered during my visit to the island, crossing the long avenue of eucalyptus with the museum curator who introduced me to the mystery of the Iron Mask and the long history of Arab prisoners ... who were killed ... and many others. .... On the one hand I had a faceless man, the other too many names, facts and history, and still alive in me that old desire for imprisonment for attempting to perform a final effort of concentration and drill the thin membrane that separates me from the unique work which I feel I had long prepared... It is in this spirit of voluntary prisoner painter, I started 2 July 1992 paintings in the cells".
- Jean Le Gac
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| prison cell mural - Jean Le Gac |
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| prison cell mural - Jean Le Gac |
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| The Arab mural |
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| The Gold Star in the prison hallway |
Alas we had to leave this lovely little island -must return one day and would like to see her sister Island Ste Honoratus too...
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| on the boat back to Cannes |
Saturday 24 May 2014
Arrived at the Olive Farm and 'I don't believe it'!!!!
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| Excitement rising.... nearly there |
I stared and stared in total disbelief! I was having a 'Victor Meldrew' moment - big time! We had just arrived at Carol Drinkwater's place near Cannes. and I had dreamed about staring in awe at her beautiful olive trees and glorious Provence, but here I was staring instead at the back end of our caravan wedged like a cork in a bottle in her garden gate. There was Jeff on the road side shaking his head in despair and me trapped on the garden side. The brake had jammed as Jeff was manually trying to maneuvre the caravan into a small driveway at the side of the house.... OMG!!! It would not budge. There was no room to couple the car back on and pull it out. After ten minutes heaving and shoving we did manage to prise it back out onto the road with minimal damage to caravan or gate.
Carol, who had earlier received us with a lovely warm welcome and whom we had reassured "oh yes of course Jeff can park the caravan in this small space - no problem", came back down from her house
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| A fresh lemon from Carol's garden |
Anyway, more importantly the wee gite is snug and well positioned for exploring. We dropped off into deep sleeps that night to the sound of heavy thunderous rain.
Next day it was still showery, but we headed into Cannes to check out what all the 'film festival' fuss was about. It was an amazing experience, especially after the last 18 months living in very rural France. We are not dedicated followers of fashion or the stars, and the glorious hype and heady glitzy atmosphere just bewitched us ...
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| nearly on the red carpet |
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| getting ready for the celebs! |
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| backside of the paparazzi.... |
Later we headed back to the car to find that thanks to a fellow french driver we almost needed a tin opener to get back into it....
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| Jeff climbs in from the passenger seat muttering !**!!... |
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| its not easy (at his age)..... |
Tuesday 20 May 2014
Wed 21st May the wee small hours - hissy fits in rain, rain, rain!
It is the wee small hours of Wednesday 21st May and I am snuggled up in our little caravan listening to the rain lashing down on our roof and the wind howling. Just checked the weather forecast and its thunderstorms across the region - oh joy. Today we are due to take the awning down, pack up the caravan and drive across to Cannes to stay in a gite at Carol Drinkwater's Olive Farm. I am so looking forward to meeting her and seeing the Olive Farm. I had imagined us breezing in relaxed and tanned not like drowned rats with a car full of wet sandy camping gear. Our pitch here in Petite Camarge is on sand which is great on dry sunny days but not conducive in the rain. Sand and rain make....sludge! Think I will put the kettle on and brace myself for the day to come. Ho hum. Feel hissy fits coming on....
Saturday 17 May 2014
A breathtaking drive to the Petite Camargue and Aigues-Mortes
We drove for four hours down to the Camargue area through the rest of the Parc National des Cevennes which we had merely glimpsed the day before. It was just stunning and we oooohed and ahhhhed all the way. It was all the better for being unplanned and so unexpected. The route comprised countless hairpin bends so I was glad Jeff was at the wheel and our wee caravan arrived safely at the Petite Camargue.
The Petite Camargue is the western region of the wider regional parc Camarges on the south coast between the Mediterranean and the delta of the Rhone River. It is a huge flat plain with many, many lagoons or 'étangs', (salt lakes - salt being a local speciality) cut off from the sea by sandbars and reedy marshland. The marshes are famous for the worst mosquitoes in France (yes I have been bitten already - ouch), the Camarguais horses roaming wild and most of all the great flamingos seen everywhere. The pink flamingo is one of 340 species of birds to be seen here in this wonderful nature reserve.
We are in a Yellohvillage camp site (yes correct spelling). It is super and has everything we need. Not sure I would like it so much in high season though - could be like a big Butlins-in-the-sun. However it is spotless and with modern well appointed facilities (doubt they would welcome bikers!).
ps nothing against bikers really.
The Petite Camargue is the western region of the wider regional parc Camarges on the south coast between the Mediterranean and the delta of the Rhone River. It is a huge flat plain with many, many lagoons or 'étangs', (salt lakes - salt being a local speciality) cut off from the sea by sandbars and reedy marshland. The marshes are famous for the worst mosquitoes in France (yes I have been bitten already - ouch), the Camarguais horses roaming wild and most of all the great flamingos seen everywhere. The pink flamingo is one of 340 species of birds to be seen here in this wonderful nature reserve.
We are in a Yellohvillage camp site (yes correct spelling). It is super and has everything we need. Not sure I would like it so much in high season though - could be like a big Butlins-in-the-sun. However it is spotless and with modern well appointed facilities (doubt they would welcome bikers!).
ps nothing against bikers really.
Went into the local town Aigues-Mortes - a medieval fortress steeped in centuries of history. The name means dead or stagnant water but that does not reflect this charming bustling little town which we thoroughly enjoyed exploring. Then headed over to the vast and empty (nearly) Espiguette Beach and had a lovely laze reading our books, gazing at passing boats and people watching..... so lovely to be on an unspoiled beach....
Next day we drove over to Ste Maries de la Mer which is famous in the region for its gypsy gatherings twice a year when Romany people from all over the world make a pilgrimage to worship Saint Marie their patron saint. We were disappointed at how grubby, run down and litter strewn it was. There was a market full of romany style bling which was great to browse except for the rubbish blowing around and the shifty look on many faces... Such a shame.
Decided to run up to Arles the capital of the region and it was not much better - bit of a dismal day not helped by dreary weather. Still it was fabulous to spot the many, many pink flamingos and white horses in the marsh lands.
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| I saw a ship a sailing.... |
Decided to run up to Arles the capital of the region and it was not much better - bit of a dismal day not helped by dreary weather. Still it was fabulous to spot the many, many pink flamingos and white horses in the marsh lands.
Thur 15th May On the road again... a disappointment....and a delight!
Left Figeac and drove further south to Mende to find that the two star caravan site we had selected should not have had any stars at all!! On their web site they say they welcome bikers!! well that should have been a clue - but all the rest of the description and location sounded perfect. What a dump!! enough said. We about turned and left.
Found a better caravan site - but the wind was now howling so we left the awning in its bag and had an early night. Nothing remarkable to note about Mende apart from its location - but to be fair we didn't hang around.
The best part of the day was the drive down through some exhilarating scenery as we entered the Parc National des Cevennes. The parc stretches over two regions, Languedoc-Roussillon and Rhône-Alpes. The only French national park in the low mountains, with about 76,000 inhabitants, the area is considered to be exceptional territory and is strictly protected by law – we could see why. Wow – spectacular scenery. The parc is also renowned for its fauna and flora. The sights turned out to be a great precursor for what was to come the following day...
Found a better caravan site - but the wind was now howling so we left the awning in its bag and had an early night. Nothing remarkable to note about Mende apart from its location - but to be fair we didn't hang around.
The best part of the day was the drive down through some exhilarating scenery as we entered the Parc National des Cevennes. The parc stretches over two regions, Languedoc-Roussillon and Rhône-Alpes. The only French national park in the low mountains, with about 76,000 inhabitants, the area is considered to be exceptional territory and is strictly protected by law – we could see why. Wow – spectacular scenery. The parc is also renowned for its fauna and flora. The sights turned out to be a great precursor for what was to come the following day...
Wed 14th May - Irish Pub Quiz?? Non.
We spotted an Irish Bar in Figeac and advert for a pub quiz so we pitched up at the appointed time to find it was busy and full of boystrous young French folks. We met a super guy, Samuel Baudet who invited us to join his team. It was a hoot! Turned out this bar has not been an 'Irish Bar' for years (no one has thought to take the sign down). I was impressed how much Jeff understood the questions and helped with the answers (I even managed one myself) while I had a good chat with Salima a physics teacher and Cedric an accountant (I think). Great night, many laughs and WE WON!!
Figeac is a vibrant town full of young lively students attending the local university/college (Lycee).
Here are a few pics from our 'Irish/French' quiz team.....
Figeac is a vibrant town full of young lively students attending the local university/college (Lycee).
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| Points were being awarded for best fancy dress ....this was last min.com!! (quite fetching I thought) |
Here are a few pics from our 'Irish/French' quiz team.....
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| Cedric and Salima - celebration boogey |
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| The winning team..... |
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| Aide memoire |
Wednesday 14 May 2014
13th May lunch at the Grill & Bar du Poulot and a romp around Les Grottes
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| ...that's the electrician behind me.... |
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| fab decor - tres chic |
Then onto the caves for a two hour romp underground with a bunch of French Saga-ites and a guide who kindly decided to speak LOUDLY and slowwwwly for the 'englanders' so that all the saga-ites turned and looked at us to see if we understood - oui oui!! - I was mortified. These pics are nicked off internet as mine do not justify the awesome beauty of this place....
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| One of many amazing stalagtites |
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| reflections.... |
We were drenched in rain throughout the day but hey the forecast for tomorrow is better!
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