Contents of article "4. August 2005"
Monday 1st August
Thursday 4th August
Monday 8th August
Thursday 11th August
Sunday 14th August
Wednesday 17th August
Saturday 20th August
Monday 22nd August
Wednesday 24th August
Thursday 26th August
Sunday 28th August
Monday 1st August
July snuck past me so quickly and shovelled in August, that I hardly noticed it happen! We’re not enjoying August weather however at the moment, as we had rain yesterday and today the sun is making weak attempts to send pasty looking rays through a laden, temperamental armour of cloud. Olivier has been in Sorède most of the day, about 15km from here, and hasnt seen a cloud, so it goes to prove that the micro climate in the Pyrénées-Orientales makes it worth travelling a short distance if you wish to find better weather. The present weather suits me very well however, as I’m back on wheelbarrow duty, this time digging up stones from the building site (aka our garden) to make a base for the patio which is to go around the pool. If I don’t take it very carefully, I might end up with some muscle on my short flabby arms, which would greatly detract from my general portly image.
Thursday 4th August
I’d like to tell you that ’me back’s killing me’ from all the stones that I’ve been carting around but I dare’nt. Ever since my Dad became a computer whizz and mastered the art of internet surfing, I get a phone call every time I mention alcohol, cigarettes, or excessive slogging in the garden, to chide and warn me of the dangers of all three. On the subject of alcohol, it really is so difficult to avoid it over here. Six until eight is ’apéro’ time and it’s rare that somebody doesn’t come round or invite us over. Unfortunately, I’m just a gal who can’t say no, and I struggle to find the words to refuse as friend or neighbour fills up my glass for the fifth time and I know that I am on my way down that slippery slope of loud tuneless singing, insane giggling and total indiscretion (only joking Dad - you know I drink rarely and in moderation!) Do NOT tell me your secrets when you know I’m going round to someone’s house for the apéro!!
If you visit the Anglophone forum, you will have encountered Colin, very good linguist and photographer ’extraordinaire’ He sent me a photo of his local boulangerie in Baho, the sign above which has to be worth sharing! Apparently, it flashes!
The weather is beautiful again and a gentle breeze prevents the sun from feeling oppressive. It’s difficult to remember to put on sun tan lotion in the morning. In the past, it’s been something that you do automatically when you’re on holiday but now, it’s daily life and it’s not the first thing that springs to mind when heading for the supermarket. (Don’t ring Dad, I’ll remember tomorrow)
Monday 8th August
I’m struggling to find the right direction for the site. Our visitors are now in the hundreds per day and I would love to make it my living as well as my hobby but how to go about it? As a teacher, I’ve never had to sell - I’ve always had a captive audience, literally, who have had to buy my product or suffer the consequences. Here in the real world, people can walk away.
Another beautiful day in the PO. Warm and sunny, in the 30s, light breeze, just right really. Funnily enough, we don’t seem to get mosquitos round here at night (touch wood) although I think that this is one of the main months for them. They are probably too put off by the state of our garden to visit in the evening - most likely sitting on the fence next door, buzzing with disaproval and shaking their tail feathers and warning passing mozzies "Don’t go round there luv, it’s a right mess" Or maybe we’re just not juicy enough!
Thursday 11th August
We had some friends round on Tuesday night, who we met via the site, and had a late, loud and lovely evening between pool, trampoline, red red wine, rain, high winds and karaoke! Despite the wind emptying our glasses before we could take that last swig, we sat there, stoically British, and did not let the poor weather put us off. Brigitte, next door mentioned with a smile this morning, that she couldn’t hear her telly. Not sure if she took it too well when I said that maybe we’d done her a favour - French telly has seriously deteriorated over the years and there’s less and less worth watching (although to be fair, I suppose it depends on your taste)
It’s over a year now since I walked away from my old life - a year since anybody has paid me to work, (eeek!) Looking back over this time, I would have liked to have pointed out a few highlights, but I can’t. To have highlights, you have to have ’lowlights’ and there are’nt any (apart from the state of Lulu’s bedroom which was the same in England so I can’t blame the move!) Each day is a pleasure to wake up to..
Certain incidents however, do stick in my mind, for example the day I discovered that Auchan sell peanut butter and I could stock up on Cadbury’s chocolate in Spain. I have very simple needs! The ever changing views and hues of the Albères mountains and the Canigou are also a daily highlight of my life. Who could not gaze over these postcard scenes without being so aware of life and being alive - you can breathe it in - the clean air, the shades of green in sun and shadow, the history.
Sunday 14th August
Another beautiful day in the Roussillon - not a cloud in the sky and the mountains so clearly highlighted against their blue backcloth that they look as though they have been sketched in pencil.
We are running out of stones in our garden to use for hardcore so the local cherry farmer (the kind gentleman of June who came round with a wheelbarrow of cherries) has suggested that we help ourselves to the enormous piles of stones which he pulls out of the earth in his cherry orchards every year. Great idea! We started loading up the car with stones - me perched half way up the pile, putting stones into buckets, and passing them down to Olivier, who poured them into the back of the car. The friendly, companiable conversation went as follows:
praying mantis - snake fodder?
Olivier: Not too heavy for you chérie? Have a rest when your arms are tired.
Kate: (doggedly) No, fine, I’m enjoying the exercise - better than David Lloyd gym and much cheaper
Olivier: (concerned) Why aren’t you wearing those gloves I gave you to put on this morning?
Kate: (’ard) Don’t need ’em - Thank you for your concern chéri I won’t break my nails.
Olivier: It’s not to protect your nails, it’s to protect you from snake bites.
Kate:*!?***?!!!?****?*!?*!?*!*!*?!
Nobody told me that snakes live amongst the stones!
Bisou still keeps falling in the pool - when she’s not falling into it she’s drinking it. She’s permanently wet and whiffy but we might have solved the problem for the future. Once she’s aboard the dragon, she relaxes, settles down and enjoys the trip - Lulu too. Can you tell which one is which?
I
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am
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stinky
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snake pit
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you can tell they’re related!
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Wednesday 17th August
The wounded soldier
Wow! Had great fun yesterday. We went on the ’rallye pedestre’ - an organised walk from Maureillas up to Las Illas, with three stops en route to answer quiz questions which were handed in and marked. We were all in groups, a little like a pub quiz, and when we arrived at the top (15km of upwards hike) prizes and cups and various goodies were handed out to the winning groups. We came third out of 23 groups, which wasn’t bad, but I was proud to note that the winning group was made up mainly of english. We’re a clever lot! The prize giving was preceded and followed by the ’apéro’ after which we sat down to a paella, excessive red wine, boules in the late afternoon and a ’bal’ with music and hot doggie type grub in the evening.
Altogether, a superb day, marred only by the fact that a big bad dog attacked Bisou under the table and made a couple of holes in her neck! We know where it lives and are planning our revenge!
The walk up to Las Illas is fabulous and it can mostly be done off road. Beware! By car the road from Maureillas is narrow and winding and has to be negotiated stone cold sober, but it is worth it once you get to the top where there is a restaurant/café (Les Trabucayers I think) and numerous marked walks. Apparently, Las Illas used to be a popular tourist attraction and had a large hotel which was always full.
The walk up to Las Illas
I would imagine it to be fantastic if you like solitude - there really is nothing else there but a few houses and appartments, the café and the walks, no shops, no Saturday night ’ooligans. Very peaceful with nature at its most natural.
Saturday 20th August
Our close friends and X-neighbours are coming over today. They have spent a week in Barcelona and are on their way to spend a further week in Le Boulou. I say "on their way" as they have been "on their way" for the past five hours and are still "on their way" The motorway traffic is absolutely horrendous and they have been queueing since Girona. This is the weekend that marks the end of the holidays for a lot of french holidaymakers and the grand exodus from south to north has begun. A day to stay indoors and catch up with the housework!
The weather is very un-August-like at the moment. Autumn-like temperatures, cloud and rain, and high winds coming in from the mountains. There is however, no rest for the wicked, and I have spent the day at the snake pit collecting more stones to scatter merrily around the garden. It’s beginning to look a little like a pebble beach but I have been assured by the author of this excellent idea that the plan is sound and we will soon be sitting on our new patio enjoying the wind.
Monday 22nd August
I’m not quite sure what’s going on at the moment, but the sky, clear and blue only an hour ago despite the continuing wind, has turned grey and purple and there is (what is presumably) ash falling from the sky all around us. There is clearly a very large fire raging somewhere in the distance, fanned by the wind, and filling the air with menace. I do hope nobody gets hurt.
Walking around the vineyards and cherry orchards on the outskirts of Céret today, it struck me how life turns round in circles. Last year at this time, I walked through these very same vineyards, the Canigou rising proud and majestic in the distance, and marvelled at the speed of growth of the grapes, at the diversity of colour surrounding me and at the fact that I was here, classroom and rainy days in Leeds far behind me. This morning, I felt exactly the same. The grapes are ripening, the Canigou is still a focal point of beauty and fascination for me, the colours of the Albères mountains still sparkle in a kaleidoscope of colour - and I’m still here! Wow! What a lucky, lucky lady!
Wednesday 24th August
Yesterday, with our friends, we drove up through Amélie-les-Bains, Arles-sur-Tech, Prats-de-Mollo and turned off to the right just before arriving at La Preste. We drove up right into the heart of the Canigou and pique-niqued on roast chicken and salad, saucisson and french bread, ’flan’ and cheese and chocolate. Life is so hard here!
Today, I am a little ’inquiète’ as I have been out several evenings in a row, sat outside and eaten, or partied, and I haven’t been ’mozzied’ once! What have I done to put the mozzies off me? I usually spend the Summer covered in ugly red bites, which turn into bulbous yellow pustules and pop in company but this year nothing! I feel unloved and unwanted. Has my blood group changed without me noticing? Am I no longer juicy? (not what the scales say) or have the mozzies departed the PO? More investigation in view for the intrepid Kate if she is to solve the mozzie mystery!
Thursday 26th August
The plot thickens. Last night, out for dinner with friends, we sat outside the St Ralph in St Jean Pla de Corts, just next to the lake, until 23h30. The lights were on and the flying crittur world was out in force, divebombing reluctant diners, who spent a chunk of the evening flailing their arms around and periodically smacking themselves or their partners on the leg, head or arm - I’m sure you know the dance. Not me! I returned home unscathed, apart from a black-bodied-beastie (now deceased) who decided to test my wine and at least died happy!
August has been decidedly unstable in the Pyrénées-Orientales and the comparative lack of sun must have had an effect on the grapes. Walking round our local vineyards this morning, I noticed that some of the grapes were shrivelled and resembled raisins. I was surprised as I thought that september was the main month for the grapes, but these looked as though they had been and gone.
I received a lovely photo this evening of cousin Igor who lives in Porta at the top of the mountain near the Puymorens tunnel. Here he is, taking a bath - what a cutie.
I’m sure his Mum and dad, Jeremy and Nelly, must be very proud of him although I’m not quite sure how he fitted in the bucket - he’s a big chap!
Sunday 28th August
Lulu is spending a couple of days with a friend on his parent’s boat. They keep it in Argelès and sail down the coast into Spain or just sit in the marina and chill. This morning, we decided to take advantage of his absence to take a long walk in the mountains. The weather has been dull today, which made the walking easier, and here I am, 20km later, with grazed knees, aching back and legs and a great sense of achievement! Walking in the pyrénées is fantastic. The views are unbeatable and there are small tracks and paths everywhere so that you can avoid the roads and traffic. The only problem is that it goes up...and up....and up....!
