The Dordogne in Spring

When I last wrote we were at the mid-point of our two weeks in Paris. I am writing now (just over 4 weeks later) from the Lot et Garonne region in south west France and despite the cold, there are signs that spring is here.

Paris was very quiet - very few tourists, less traffic than we had ever experienced before, more bicycles and scooters both manual and electric, less leafy and green because most trees are deciduous creating a very stark and grey overlay, much quieter because certain vehicles have been banned from the city with electric vehicles required for taxis, delivery vans, motor scooters and eventually for anyone who wants to drive in Paris. There are government incentives available throughout France to help people move to electric vehicles. 

Paris is investing heavily in a post Covid renewal based on its preparation for the Olympics. All major monuments including gardens and streets are being redesigned, renovated or renewed to respond to future requirements and owners corporations of private buildings are being called on to undertake maintenance of their facade (Paris has a requirement that every building must undergo an external maintenance cycle every ten years - obviously not well policed in some arrondissements). All of this building activity is providing a lot of jobs. 

The lack of tourists together with the hesitancy of locals to hurry back into their pre-Covid cafe lifestyle (not to mention the freezing cold weather) has seen some cafe owners resort to the "warm and fuzzies" to fill seats. Some bright spark is selling teddies wearing a t-shirt with the cafe's name on it. This particular example was a bit unimaginative but a couple of cafes we saw had bears tucked in corners with jackets and hats on, with a coffee or aperitif and a book.

You may remember that I found this magnificent magnolia at Les Halles just as we arrived, so we went back 2 weeks later to check on flowering progress.  It was about the only colour we found in the city: too early yet for the millions of daffodils and tulips in the public gardens and too early for other blossoms or buds.  We concluded that the optimal time to visit Paris in the spring is the third week in April when absolutely everything is in flower.

And on our final walk before leaving the city we trotted over to the Eiffel Tower to see the new paint job it was getting in readiness for the Olympics. It was deserted so we decided to join the Russians (the only other tourists in town) and zoom up to the top for the view. My goodness it was cold, though. No wonder it was only the Russians (and two crazy Australians - one in thongs) who were out and about.

As I was starting to feel unwell, we got an Uber to Porte Saint Cloud to pick up our lease car, in stead of wrangling our heavy cases on the Metro.

We have a new Citroen Aircross C3 which we will keep until we go to Italy to meet the family in late June. Our first highway stop for a coffee break offered a choice of 21 chargers - ten Tesla, ten other and one weird multipurpose type (the big one in the middle). Pity we were still running on fossils. 

By the time we reached this point, which was all of three hours in, Paul was already saying the Citroen was like trying to manoeuvre a marshmallow and it hasn't got any better since.

Our first stop on the way to the South-West was Le Mans and its Le Mans 24-hour Race Museum which Paul eruditely described as "gobsmackingly" interesting. 

After 2 days in Le Mans, all of which I spent in bed, we progressed to a wonderful little place called Loheac which also had an automobile museum, this one being pronounced as "stunning" and "one of the best in the world" (from one who has seen most of them). 

While Paul visited the Loheac museum I spent another day in bed at this amazing B&B built in the 14th century and not changed much other than the addition of a very large and very energy efficient pellet burner stove situated in the centre of the building and keeping it reasonably warm. 

Our hostess cooked our evening meal of pottage, home grown guinea fowl and vegetables and almond tart. And at breakfast apples from the orchard, apple puree, and the best bio yoghurt from Royan.  This time it was my turn  to pronounce this yoghurt about the best in the world.  This wondrous old place was one of those once in a blue moon experiences that pop up out of nowhere.

We had four days to kill before our rendezvous (yes, seriously a rendezvous - known locally as a RDV) with the bank in Eymet to finally achieve this elusive French bank account. So to fill up four days we first went to La Rochelle on the Atlantic coast to eat oysters, drink Rose and watch the sunset. Alas it didn't quite work out that way and we grabbed dinner in a Turkish cafe at 4 o'clock in the afternoon (yes, seriously) between rain showers and wind gusts, and went to bed in a ghastly box of a hotel at 6pm. For the next two days, in the rain, we tracked around our house-hunting locations, looking at the properties we didn't buy.... and in most cases we were pretty happy we hadn't bought them. 

We are in the land of the Hundred Years War and there seems to be a castle or chateau at every turn. This one at Rochechouart which we first saw years ago in summer sunshine is particularly nice. 

Finally we met our estate agent in the car park of the Intermarche supermarket in Eymet and he guided us to our RDV at the Banque Populaire which was right in the centre of the Eymet bastide just on the left of the arcade.  An hour later we had an "in principle" bank account with a Visa card each (to arrive by mail in several days - PIN arriving separately) to be confirmed the following day on receipt of our most recent ATO tax returns - just to make sure we actually owned the money we would be transferring into our new account in future and that we were not money laundering. 

Once that was done, the real estate agent showed us the way to our new house in Lauzun, about 7 km away and handed us the keys.

We had finally arrived.

25 weeks after signing the contract of sale and 13 weeks after transferring the money, we finally walked in the door.  It had not been lived in for two and a half years, but was very clean and smelt sweet enough but it was freezing cold and felt a little damp. It was smaller than we had expected or at least seemed smaller because it was so cluttered - tasteful and colourful clutter I must admit, but clutter all the same. 

We couldn't help ourselves, we immediately began loading armfuls of artificial flowers and candles and cushions and pictures and knickknacks down to the garage, bundling up cushion covers, tablecloths, curtains and all sorts of fabric decorations into bags for washing. Paul checked the local village noticeboard to find out if a "garage sale" would be an appropriate way to redistribute these decorative treasures.

 

Days 1, 2 and 3 were 12 degrees in the house. We had no water and no power. Despite providing the utilities with our precious new bank details, they would not guarantee connection times. We were so cold we ran the gas burners on the stove to warm our hands as well as make coffee.

Mid-way through Day 3 the power came on, after some pleading with the lovely lady on the power company's English speaking line. With light we could explore further. We moved the fridge out of the storeroom where it had lived, into the kitchen and turned the storeroom into a pantry.

With light we discovered the downstairs loo was lilac and lemon with a fuchsia seat. Lovely!  By the way - everyone here has coloured and/or patterned toilet seats.  Hope the craze doesn't make it to Oz.

With power we also had warmth and with the heaters running flat out on Days 3, 4 and 5 we felt we were making some progress. While we were still taking lots of 'stuff' down to the garage, the cupboards were sorted, the kitchen and bathroom organised and we were unpacked. However, we still had no water.

Finally, on Day 6 after the agent interceded with the water company and after many, many buckets of water had been sourced from the neighbours for toilet flushing (we had been purchasing drinking water in 20 litre containers) we were finally connected.  Water meant hot water, which meant a very welcome shower and an operating washing machine.

And with enough hot water to properly wash up, we sat down to our first proper meal in our little French house.

Day 7 and our French Visa debit cards arrived. That meant that we could contact Orange and arrange a fibre internet connection called Livebox 5. They even supplied a free Airbox modem to use for the 10 days until the fibre is installed.  This required a 40 km drive to the Orange shop in Villeneuve sur Lot, on Day 8 but Hey - whose complaining? Anyway it gave us a chance to visit some other big chain stores for essentials like a printer, a hairdryer and a replacement for my dead electric toothbrush. Paul also needed some tools.  

Day 9 was sunny and warmer - all of 18 degrees for about an hour at 3pm, so I went for my first walk around the fishing lake that forms our 'back yard'. The picture is taken from the far end of the lake and our house is just left of centre.

The map shows the lake and the section of the village closest to it.  The  preceding photo is taken from the bottom of the lake - the little island bit.

Our house is in the group of dwellings immediately above the word Lauzun.  We are 6 rue Saint Columb, so we are the third property along the street from the corner on the lower side - a very skinny property.  Here is the link for Google street view.

It is a typical village town house: single width garage below (depth of the house) with a front door directly onto stairs to first floor. The first floor windows at the front are both in the kitchen; the second floor windows are both in the second bedroom. The living room on the first floor has glass doors to a rear deck with a view of the lake, and the main bedroom on the second floor has a single window to the rear, overlooking the park. The concrete umbrella stand in the gutter was broken by the garbage truck (on purpose?) and has now been replaced by some wood courtesy of our neighbour, Alain. We may have a garage but that doesn't mean we have a driveway! 

Armed with electricity and some new power tools, Paul is trying to create what he needs to be able to do a few jobs around the house - like build a new bathroom.

First task was to create a stable work surface out of a couple of pieces of timber he found in the garage. Second was to install some LED 'flouro' lights. Third task was to create a wine rack under the stairs - believe me, the garage is the prefect temperature for wine - 11 degrees. He's getting there - watch out for updates.

The living room at the rear opens onto the deck that overlooks the lake and park.

In the corner is one of these weird European built-in barbeques fuelled by wood or coals. Not very pretty.  We won't be testing it out any time soon.

I just had to plant something and essential herbs were my first choice. These small plants cost the equivalent of $4AUD each and came in a container made of something like a cross between a Jiffy pot, cardboard and hessian.  You plant the whole lot.  To carry them from the store I put them on a cardboard tray and was offered a cardboard box at the checkout, if required. Not a piece of plastic in sight.

On a piece of public land underneath the wall of the chateau and about 50 metres from our front door, the Marie has kindly provided me with a compost bin.  I've yet to discover how one arranges to take some of the compost ones contributed to. Once we hire a pressure washer from Mr Bricolage and clean up around our front door I want to have a pot-plant at the front door - so I'll be needing some of that compost for a big pot.

I've got a bit of competition though.  This is the house three doors up on the corner of our street. Their front door is around the corner but this is the side that catches the morning sun. Their tulips look gorgeous. I'm thinking azalea or camelia for mine.

Paris in Winter

I wasn't going to write a blog this trip. 

It takes a great deal of time and a commitment to focussing on the potentially memorable in order to capture things that may be of interest to others.

But so many people have asked where exactly we are, what we're doing and how the rest of the world is looking after two years of lockdown.  

So here we go. 

The first task was to choose a name for the blog. As we are in France to take possession of our little village house in the south west, it seems appropriate to call the blog something like "A Residence in France".  

But that's not a very clever title so I have opened a competition for a better name. Please send your suggestion to Paul at saviburke@icloud.com. There is no prize I'm afraid, only kudos in this small (but very select) company.

We arrived on Wed 22 Feb at about 2pm and spent 45 minutes waiting in a chilly 5 degrees for our Airbnb 'greeter'.  Paul has since weakened and added track pants and a light jacket to his t-shirt and even the thongs eventually gave way to sneakers, but he'd turned a delicate shade of blue by the time the 'greeter' let us in to the apartment.

On the other hand, I am very grateful to the amazing Ms Dani Rocca for her wise advice about a feather coat. My coat and I spied this gorgeous magnolia about to burst fully into flower in the Place des Halles.

Our apartment is cosy and warm, full of light and plants.

Paul has a desk. I have the table.

The kitchen has a pop-up exhaust fan. It works incredibly well.

Being on a corner we have seven windows with views onto either rue Turbigo or rue St Martin.

Our first outing was a walk to the Seine to see progress on the repairs to Notre Dame. There is not a lot of progress evident but Paris will host the summer Olympics in 2 years time and President Macron and Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo swear it will be ready.

The magnificent Samaritane department store on rue de Rivoli is open again after about 10 years of restoration and renovation - and the plaza at the side entrance is showing the first signs of Spring. As you can see from the streets not everyone is back at work yet, the streets are quiet and there are few tourists.

In order to board our aircraft in Melbournes, enter the United Arab Emirates in Abu Dhabi and then enter France, we had to first convert our Australian Vaccination Certificate into an International Vaccination Certificate. But because the stupid Australian government did not sign up to the European vaccination protocol as NZ and every other sensible country in the world did, our Australian "International" certificate is not recognised anywhere in Europe.

So we had to convert it to a local French "Health Pass" in order to be served in a cafe or restaurant, or to enter a gallery, museum or public building.  However, it was very easy; done quickly and efficiently by the young woman at the local pharmacy for a substantial fee of $55 each. 

We used our new, snappy online pass to enjoy a vin rouge as we waited for a heavy shower to pass in rue Montorgueil.

Had we been experiencing Covid symptoms we could have popped into a tent outside just about any pharmacy for a PCR or RAT test.

Our first meal in Paris was smemorable - minimal, expensive, sensational.  One of our favourite restaurants Yum T'cha has opened a new Dim Sum house called Lai T'cha and the menu is on this QR code. Forgot to take a foodie pic!

Musee Carnavalet is the Museum of the City of Paris.  It is a wondrous place in the Marais district and has just reopened after 4 years of renovations. I have been reading a book about the French Revolution by Hillary Mantel entitled A Place of Greater Safety, so we walked to Carnavalet to have a look at the French Revolution section where I could remind myself of what the key protagonists (in both my book and the Revolution itself) actually looked like.

Maximilien  Robespierre and Camille Desmoulins.

Sunday was freezing but sunny so we walked the length of the Canal St Martin from Republic to the Basin de la Villette. At Republic there were small Union based protests against Russia's aggression in the Ukraine.

Usually so green, the Canal looks very different in winter.

We sat by the water in the sun at La Villette for a vin rouge before retracing our steps back along the Canal towards Republic. 

Along the way we passed a very loud and enthusiastic street procession of African drummers and dancers that appeared to represent 5 or 6 different cultural groups They were having a great time and so were all of their followers and other onlookers. Easily 1000+ people controlled by one police vehicle front and rear and two marshalls with each group. 

Monday was sunny but still very cold.  We took the Metro to the Foundation Louis Vuitton in the outer 16th Arr. in the Bois de Bologne.

The exhibition was the Morozov Collection from Russia that has not been seen in France before.

It included many Impressionist paintings and sculpture including this Monet -

- and this heartbreaking Van Gogh painted during his year in the asylum of St Remy de Provence.

A fabulous collection in a fabulous building (designed by the American Frank Ghery) in a fabulous park.