Saturday 25th May 2013 – There’s a strange round object …

… out there in the sky. It’s a golden orange colour and it hurts my eyes when I look at it. Also, the sky is a funny colour. There are parts of it that are a strange blue colour, not the usual grey that I am used to. It’s absolutely weird.

Not like yesterday, though. Fighting the snow and the rain, I emptied Caliburn. And while there wasn’t a great deal of stuff that I threw away, the fact that it is all tidied up inside means that there is tons of space inside. And that’s good news.

After that, I went off to Pooh Corner and sorted out Caliburn’s summer tyres ready for changing. He has his MoT on Monday morning and then I’ll be changing them over and putting the winter tyres in store. I found the mountain bike that needs to be taken over to Rosemary’s, and I also sorted out my CDs and started to fit the CD racks that I had bought in IKEA in Brussels. The first time I’ve seen some CD racks that actually do what I think that they ought to do.

Back here though, a bit of bad news. Cécile’s mother has had another funny turn and so after Caliburn’s MoT we are hitting the road, but to Fromentines, not to Brussels. I’ll have to drop Cécile off to catch the ferry out to her mother’s island and then I’ll have to head off to Brussels from there – a mere 880kms again.

It’s all happening here.

And they laughed …

1305040…at me when I told them to prepare for snow yesterday afternoon. Mind you, I can’t blame them. Whoever would have thought, that on 25th May, that it would snow? And it’s just after 08:00 in the morning and it’s still snowing.

But yesterday, it was cold and miserable, with heavy grey clouds banking up and it was a reasonable bet that, if the temperature were to drop by a degree or two, we would get the lot.

Anyway, that’s enough of the weather. Yesterday we recorded all of our radio programmes – the rock music programme at 09:30 and the other Radio Tartasse programme at 10:00, both at Marcillat, and then a thrash down to Gerzat for the Radio Arverne programmes at 14:00.

Rob was at Liz and Terry’s, laying some “natural” paving stones that he had bought from a place in Auzances. They didn’t half look nice, and that has set me thinking for when (if ever) I return to Pooh Corner. But thinking is dangerous and I don’t want to plan too far ahead because these days, you never know what is going to happen next.

 

And so I drove …

… 78 kilometres down to Clermont Ferrand (and don’t forget the 78 kilometres back as well) and paid for a parking space in the town, in order to go along and translate the English-speaking interviews into French at this Europavox rock music festival for the radio station in Gerzat for which Liz and I do some work. And that is one of the reasons why I ended uo coming back a few days earlier than normal.

And the first interview was, as you might epect, in English. And what you didn’t expect, because I didn’t expect it either, was that someone else did the translating. Making enquiries with Bernard, the President, it appears that no meeting was held at the radio station to discuss the translation, so someone brought along his girlfriend, “who speaks excellent English” (although you would never have guessed) and, apparently, “they are quite insistent that she does it”.

“Well, they do realise”, I said, “that she’s also doing it on Friday and Saturday too” and with that, I turned on my heels and walked off. And that, as they say, is that. It appears that I’ve left them in the lurch, but ask me if I care.

This morning I went round to Pooh Corner to see how things were there, and it was enough to bring a person to tears. You can’t see anything for the weeds. It’s absolutely dreadful. These 6 weeks of incessant rain (not to mention the snow) have pushed up weeds like tryffids.

The sad thig about this is that if things go according to plan, with the most optimistic scenario, I’m not going to be back spending any more time than maybe one day each month at Pooh Corner until mid-October.

Heaven alone knows what the place is going to be like by then. And that’s enough to drive anyone to tears as well.

  

I’m back …

… in the Auvergne again. Although I’ve not made it home yet. First thing I had to do was to sweep up a pile of broken glass in Cécile’s workshop. It’s all been properly bagged up and I’ll be going round to someone’s house tomorrow and inserting it into his back passage piece by piece. Such is the Kingdom of Heaven.

It’s 880 kms from Brussels to La Barre des Monts so, leaving Brussels at 16:00, I was parked up by the seaside at 01:30 this morning – motorway all the way – and it’s a long time since I’ve dozed off to sleep to the rhythm of the waves lapping on the shoreline. But awake and off for a wander ready for Cécile’s ferry to dock at 11:00, and 500kms later we were back here.

But for how long? I haven’t a clue. I need to be back in Brussels, Cécile needs to be back with her mother and so we won’t be hanging around. But I’m not going much further tonight. I can’t even focus on the screen. 

 

In case you are all wondering …

… my previous blog had been suspended while there were other things going on in my life which were taking a great deal of my time and effort.

I’m still in Brussels right now but I’m going back home on Tuesday night. Hopefully I’ll be back there on Wednesday and the blog may well continue, if nothing else comes along and disrupts me.  But, whatever happens, whenever the blog does recommence, it will be recommencing from here and the old Blogspot has been closed down.

All of the posts from the Blogspot have now been transferred over to here so you won’t miss a thing, and if I know how to transfer its predecessor here, then that would be here as well. It’s quite ironic that, having all been kicked off Yahoo three or four years ago when Yahoo closed down its blogging service and pile of other stuff, it’s now paid just over a billion dollars to buy another blogging service.

But now that my webhosts have very kindly incorporated a blogging service in their range of free add-ons, then in the words of the legendary Marechal MacMahon, “j’y suis, j’y reste” (here I am and here I stay).

I forgot to mention …

… yesterday that there are two clinics on this particular site. One is the Clinique de St Pierre, and the other one is the Clinique Jules Bordet. I went to  the Clinique de St Pierre and when I explained why I had come, the receptionist told me that it wasn’t there, but at the other Clinique. And as true as I sit here, I will swear that she said  “you want the Clinique Bordel”, “bordel” being the word for a brothel, or slang for a total mess.

But anyway, enough of that. Today started with a total disaster. In fact after crashing out at some silly time like 22:30 (I had walked back from the city again), I was wide awake at 04:30 and I couldn’t go back to sleep again. At least, that’s what I thought, but I was well gone when the alarm went off so I had clearly managed to doze off again.

Added to that, yesterday I had written 500 words about the St Gervais plant fair for our radio programmes, only to find out that this year they have advanced the date of the fair to before the date of the programme, and so all of that went into the bin. I’ve ended up with 500 words on sharing your lettuce, and we aren’t talking about the Bamber Gascoigne farce either, something that made him quite famous long ever before he became the presenter of University Challenge.

But with having a day effectively without any interruptions, I’ve done another set of additional notes for the April series of recordings, which is what I really wanted to do. When I’m back at home I’ll try to remember to bring back here with me all of my magazines so I can write a few more main texts too. I’m going to be here for a while, so it seems, and I need to do as much as I can. 

I also made a trip to the shop to buy supplies to load into Caliburn for the trip home. And to my dismay, someone has knocked the wing mirror and broken all the glass. That’s something else I’ve had to lash out on now. Strangely, Ford’s here want something like £20 for the glass. ON the internet, even with express postage, it comes to 12.50. I’ll just have to wait a couple of days until it arrives

I had to go to the Polyclinic …

… at lunchtime.

Long-term readers of this rubbish will know that there is a very large colony of parrots living here in the wild in Brussels (a zoo was bombed during the war and the birds escaped, and settled in the nearby woods) and some of you have even seen them, but the medical care that is apparently offered to them puts our vets to shame.

They don’t have aspirins in a Polyclinic either. I’m told that the Paracetemol.

But there I was being all dressed up in surgical gown, scrubbing my hands and arms and all  that kind of thing. And then they said that I was ready. 
“Don’t I need a mask?” I enquired
“Whyever would you want one of those?”
“Well, I understood that in a sterile environment you needed to wear a mask”
“Not at all. That’s just media nonsense”
“So why do doctors and surgeons have to wear them?”
“That’s not for health reasons”
“So why is it then?” I enquired
“That’s because if one doctor or surgeon makes a mistake in an operation, none of the others would be able to identify which one it was, and so the patients couldn’t sue”

I walked back here again afterwardsand after lunch I blitzed through the apartment to have a go at tidying it up ready for my open night. I had three visitors, one of whom seemed to be very interested. So we’ll have to see. There’s an Open Day on Saturday too.

So if I’m lucky, I might get a full day working here tomorrow. On the other hand, I’m sure that something else will crop up to spoil my day.


It’s been snowing …

… here in Brussels today. Yes, who said the other day that Spring has arrived?

Mind you, it didn’t stick around very long but nevertheless it’s freezing outside. A real winter’s day again and it’s driving me nuts, this incessant winter. Who said “global warming”?

So after a morning on the internet and another lap around the shops, I was halfway through this never-ending list of phone calls that is growing quicker than I can ring them, when I had another phone call. Consequently it was “down tools and off for the tram and back to the Porte de Halle”, where I spent until 19:30 sitting on a chair reading Fenimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans, the most famous, but not necessarily the best, of the “Leatherstocking Tales” before coming back home. It’s probably the first time in ages that I’ve really had such an amount of time to sit and read a book.

Back here through the ice and frost, I made myself a nice meal and sat down to plan the next day’s work. I need to give the place a thorough cleaning as I’m having an “open day” here tomorrow evening from 17:00 until 20:00 and the place is looking like a battleground even though I’ve only been here a few days. I also have to nip back up the road to be there for 13;00 in between all of this so I need to put my skates on

I’ve been shopping today again.

and for ladies’ underwear too (and “no”, Rhys, before you ask). Actually, I rather felt like John Steed when he went to buy a new bra for Honor Blackman.
“What size would you like, sir?” asked the assistant
“Size 17 please” replied John Steed
“Size 17, sir?” asked the incredulous assistant. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely” replied John Steed
“But how did you work that out?” she asked
“Well, you see my bowler hat? That’s size eight and a half …”

Anyway, so ladies’ underwear having been bought and a new key cut for the cellar also, I also found some time to go to a new shop that has just opened and selling electronic accessories. As dear as I don’t know what, but one thing that they did sell was, for just €6:38, a charger for AA and AAA batteries, but with four different plugs (for Europe, the UK, North America and Asia) and a car cigarette lighter lead. Obviously, that’s the kind of thing that’s going to live in Caliburn, with all its accessories, and follow me around on all my travels.

I’ve also been working on the radio programmes today and almost completed the additional notes for one series of programmes. When that’s done, I want to do another one too for the following series, and get well ahead while I have the chance. I’d be writing the main text too but I haven’t brought any notes with me to do that. It’s a struggle to do the gardening stuff without any notes as it is.

I came back from the Porte de Halle tonight on public transport and from the Place Louise I had a charming companion – a young student from the University who had lost her way. We had quite a chat on the tram and then I directed her from the tram stop to where it was that she was going.

And I also managed to fire up the oven. It heated quite nicely and so I made myself a pizza for tea. This really is progress. But tomorrow I have my work cut out. Apart from the usual shopping expedition, I have 19 phone calls to make.

I walked back …

… from  the Porte de Halle tonight for a change. It’s only 5kms and the exercise will do me good. But halfway along the road and feeling thirsty I came across a Carrefour mini-supermarket where I could buy something, but the manager was busy putting away all of the stuff that was on the pavement (and presumably attracting a tax charge)
“Am I too late?” I enquired, a little out of breath;
He looked at his watch
“Well, as a matter of fact you are, but so what?” and he stood aside to let me, and a couple of other passers-by, into the shop.

As you might have guessed, the shop manager was not a Belgian but a North African, of which there are more than just a few in Brussels. Many people complain that they are “taking over” all of the small businesses in the city. And all I can say is “good luck to them” With an attitude like that, they deserve to.

Walking back from the city did however give me an opportunity to take some night photos around the Porte de Louise, something that I’ve been wanting to do for quite a few years. I was at one time working on a folder of photos of the city – in the days after I left work when I would spend days just aimlessly wandering around the city with nothing better to do, and the old Fuji Finepix and a bottle of water in an old rucksack. Ohh happy days. I really need to recover that spirit that I had (in case you are wondering, older readers of this rubbish will have worked out by now that I’m listening to Part II of Marillion’s Thieving Magpie (La Gazza Ladra) – a magnificent album that will always be on my top-10 playlist but the second part always makes me so depressed, especially with everything that’s going on these days)

And apart from that, this morning I did a load of shopping and spent a huge amount of time going through Marianne’s correspondence on her behalf, and then this afternoon I did another series of rock music programmes. I’m now a few months ahead on those, which is good news. Now I need to concentrate on the other radio programmes, especially as we will be in the studio recoding next Monday. I have to get a wiggle on.

There’s a sign up just outside here …

… So-and-so has applied for a licence to erect a scaffolding on the pavement outside his house for a month. The licence has been granted subject to the payment of the licence fee, VAT and other associated taxes. Underneath is another notice “Commune of Ixelles – tax on the occupation of tha pavement, so many Euros. This is in addition to any other charge or tax levied by the city”.

Yes, I’m back in Belgium again aren’t I? Where everything is taxed to the hilt and where they even invent taxes in order to nail the inhabitants. Stopping off at the big “Carrefour” at Waterloo, my shopping bill for a week came to €32:00, quite a far cry from my usual €18:00 or so. Paying €2:49 for four tomatoes is killing me when I can buy them for €0:99 per kilo. It’s frightening.

At least the drive up here was good. With almost nothing in my way I made a steady 79kph all-inclusive (including a diesel stop at Auxerre) through the night as far as a little layby that I know underneath the wind turbines near the 6-way roundabout (Liz and Terry know where this is) and there I crashed out. Feet in the sleeves of the fleece again worked wonders and the quilt that I recovered from a batch of clothing heading to the dechetterie is superb. Here next morning and I even found a parking place straight off. That’s not something that happens every day either.

Through the week though, we’ve been recording radio programmes and the like, I’ve built a kind of internal hallway at Cécile’s where one passes from the house into the workshop – there was no door there and we were frezzing but now that I’ve finished, there’s a difference of 11°C either side of the wall and the house now is starting to feel warmer.

I’ve even managed to start to fit the plasterboard on the xall of my bathroom, as well as spending several hours in what is rapidly changing from my residential accommodation into my man-cave.

I’m here for a week or so this time, but who knows what the future might hold?

"I can’t get my file to open"

Cécile’s been working on a newspaper article about methanisation and the deadline was today. So she had a late night on it last night and went to carry on this morning. But …

So here I was, at 07:00 on a flaming Sunday morning, with a 1000-word Open Office text document opened in Note Tab as a binary file and removing all of the formatting. It’s not my lucky day.

Mind you, last night we were celebrating to some degree. Pionsat were playing Ceyrat in a crunch match near the foot of the table, and a win for Pionsat was vital. With the score 2-1 in their favour but heavily under the cosh I made the remark that the next goal would be crucial. And indeed it was , because it went in Pionsat’s favour. Although Ceyrat scored a goal a short while later, Pionsat hit six unanswered goals in the second half to run out winners by a cricket score. Biggest victory I’ve ever seen them win.

Today, though, the 2nd XI weren’t so lucky and playing once more like phantoms, they lost 2-1 to a team that they should have hammered out of sight. I dunno what’s up with them right now.

I also spent a couple of hours back in my man-cave at Pooh Corner this evening. Plenty of things to do and it’s not getting done just by thinking about it.

I’m back …

… in France again – arriving in the small hours of the morning after a healthy 9-hour (700kms) drive from Brussels – including stopping for fuel etc. There’s a lot to be said for travelling on good fast roads through the night.

In Brussels I did manage to accomplish quite a lot even though there are several things that it takes a while becoming used to again, including the amount of sand in the air that settled on Caliburn. The city is built on a large seam of running sand and it pervades absolutely everywhere. I’d completely forgotten about it. Public transport is another thing too and there were one or two occasions when I forgot how it was that I was suposed to be travelling to wherever it was that I was going.

Back here, after a sleep, it was off to record the radio programmes and to pick up some sliding doors at Chamalières – Cécile`s been shopping on leboncoin again.

Now I need to settle back into life here – but not for long though. I’ll be going back for Brussels part II in early course. It’s all go.

I’m on my own …

… for the next day or two, and so what i’ll be doing is to try to catch up with my sleep. At just 200m from the University and with a tram line just around the corner it’s really noisy here and last night, with the neighbours arguing until 03:00 there was no chance of any real sleep, especially as the trams start up at 06:00.

I solved the baguette problem by the way. There’s a mini-Carrefour supermarket just a few hundred metres away and they have baguettes at 95 cents. Only twice as much as in a Carrefour in France but it’s a step in the right direction. I did my week’s shopping in there too, and regular readers will recall that in France, that comes to round about €20:00. Here (admittedly with a light bulb included) it came to €38 and something. Highlight has to be the tomatoes, 99 cents per kilo in the Auchan, that cost €2:59 for 800 grams here. No wonder I left the country when I retired.

Most of the time I’ve spent here, I’ve been doing odd jobs around the apartment but I managed to get out and about. Primarily to go to the bank to arrange a transfer or some money to France. However of course, as you might expect, the bank chose today of all days to be closed for repainting and decorating. Nevertheless I did manage to visit a few other shops for a few other things, including a tack of my 12-volt LED warning lights.

On the way back here I stopped off at the Palace to see how the King was getting on, and I noticed a group of Japanese tourists talking to everyone else in the crowd. My curiosity having been aroused, I sneaked up behind then and listened to what they had to say. It was really quite illuminating –  a question of “who’s that up there on the balcony of the Palace – you know – the guy standing next to Eric Hall?”

So this evening I’m on my own with Strawberry Moose. We’ve had a pizza and we’ve watched the footy and now I’m having an early night while he’s off to the Bois de la Cambre to look for a few ladyfriends

In the Boulangerie today …

“May I have a baguette, please?”
“€1:30”
“€1:30? For a baguette?”
“If you don’t want it you can always go somewhere else”

Yes, I’m back in Belgium, aren’t I? The land of pig-ignorant and rude shop assistants. However I managed to live for 14 years amongst such offensive people is something that I don’t quite understand.

So having made a trial run on Tuesday back to Pooh Corner to make sure that it was accessible, I went over on Wednesday early afternoon to load up Caliburn ready to hit the road, but a quick message from Marianne to say that her appointment was brought forward to this morning meant that I stayed there for a while and sorted out a pile of stuff before hitting the road in the evening;

The first 75 kms were rather difficult but after that the conditions eased a little and I made good time, fuelling up at Auxerre and then stopping at a little layby that I know near St Florentin. It was freezing in the van but I made two exciting discoveries. Firstly, the zip on my sleeping bag is broken and so I really was open to the elements, but secondly, if I put my feet down the sleeve holes of a fleece, they don’t get cold at all. I was woken up through the night by other things, but not cold feet.

I made it here by late morning and since then I’ve been helping Marianne with a few things here and there, trying to get her organised. I’ll be here for a week.

What was nice though was having a pile of sandwiches and a thermos made for me before I set out. That’s definitely something of a novel experience for me. Rather a shame though that I forgot the flask, but never mind, hey?

As an aside, my baguettes in France cost 75 cents, with delivery of 6 kms and a smile included in the price.