Tag Archives: marianne_contet

Monday 19th October 2009 – No photo today, folks.

I was too busy.

I started off this morning with the door to the room. Now you may remember that I carefully measured the door, worked out exactly how large the door opening needed to be, and I constructed it perfectly. And badger me if the door, the contrary item that it is, hasn’t grown 1cm in height and 2cms in width since I measured it and constructed the opening!

Luckily the circular saw rose to the task and dealt with the bottom and just as I was getting ready to do the side, Dave stuck his head around the door. So we spent the rest of the morning discussing the plumbing arrangements for the house. He reckons he can get something sorted out for me and he’ll teach me how to do plumbing next spring when he’s over again.

That reminds me – listening to 2 advertising executives talking about a colleague
“I taught him all he knows”
“All he knows?”
“Yes, all he knows. Not all I know – just all HE knows”

In the afternoon Dave helped me get my bed up into the attic and then we discussed the old office desk I have in the barn. I used it as a workbench but seeing as I made a new workbench last year it’s been redundant. So why don’t we get it into the attic?

Famous last words, those. I don’t know if anyone remembers Bernard Cribbins and “Right Said Fred“? That’s how we were up all the stairs. But it dismantles much more than you might think when you look closely at it, especially when you have it stuck halfway up a ladder and you can neither take it up nor down. So after much exertion and a great deal of bad language I now have a desk up there.

In February he’s thinking of going down to Southern Spain for some sun. I saw a photo of Gibraltar harbour the other day and I must admit that it did look quite enticing, especially with Africa looming just across the straits. I might be tempted to tag along if I can find some dosh.

And talking of voyages, Danielle was talking at the Anglo-French group tonight about going to the USA when she retires, but she doesn’t want to go alone. Perhaps I ought to look into this kind of thing as some kind of alternative career – professional holidaymaker-cum-companion-cum-guide-cum-bodyguard
“That’s a lot of …..”
“You said that the other day!”

But I dunno about an alternative career, whether I might have time for one, for following on to my posting last night I have been asked by the local correspondent for the local rag if I might accompany her to the Potato Fair (we don’t half have some fun events round here) at La Cellette on Sunday. Now that’s an invitation I find very hard to turn down, and for more reasons than just one!

Monday 5th October – I bet that you are all fed up …

tongue and groove attic ceiling
… of seeing pictures of my blasted attic and this flaming roof. But not half as fed up as I am with doing the perishing thing. It’s never going to be finished at this rate.

About another two hours on this side of the roof tomorrow and then I can crack on with the other side. And for that, as well as having to cut around the central beams, I have to make the framework for round the windows.

Mind you, although it took me ages to get going this morning by late afternoon I was well into a rhythm and it was a shame to stop, but I had to go to the Anglo-French group.

I was working with Marianne the journalist tonight and it turns out that she is a reader at the Departmental Archives at Clermont Ferrand. She goes there every Wednesday and she’s promised to take me there one of these days and show me round. She’ll even help me get a readers’ ticket.

But talking of the Anglo-French group, yours truly might be making a dramatic return to the silver screen. My last TV appearance was in late December 1999 when I was interviewed (in Flemish, by Flemish TV) at Brussels (Zaventam) Airport for a TV programme about people travelling to celebrate the millennium. I was in fact off to New York.

rior to that I hosted (again on Flemish TV a programme about my favourite places in my local commune, which at the time was Schaerbeek. It’s one of the poorer communes in Brussels but it does have some magnificent and undiscovered corners. When I first went to live there I spent every weekend walking around getting to know the place.

My first TV appearance was just as memorable. August Bank Holiday 1974 – the Windsor Free Rock Festival and a TV news crew scanning the field looking for “typical rock fans” and Andrew Jenkins and I staggering into shot, each with a Watneys Party 7 can under each arm. Of course, my parents would happen to be looking at the news just then, wouldn’t they?

But back to the plot. A Dutch television producer wants to film the Combrailles and the efforts that are being made to welcome foreigners to the area. It seems that our little group has attracted their attention and they want to film us. These days we are about 12 or so regulars who come week after week after week more or less. Liz is sending out a mail to all of the subscribers to tell them of the filming. I’ll be interested to see how many of them turn out for the camera. Nantwich Parish Church usually has a congegration of about 15 for the evening service but when “Songs of Praise” was filmed there in the late 1960s you couldn’t get into the church for all of the dramatically-born-again-Christians who crawled out of the woodwork and into the church.

Tuesday 8th September 2009 – IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL DAY TODAY …

… and I really took advantage of it by going on this walk.

There isn’t all that much to see in La Cellette – a hamlet that receives its name due to there having been a religious hermit living here in Merovingian times.

church la cellette pionsat puy de dome franceMany years ago they actually discovered the cell in which he lived and it is still extant but it’s incorporated into the cellar of a private house and not available to the public, which is a shame.

But the views from up on the top of the hills behind the village were terrific – including this impressive long-hop of the towers of the churches of La Cellette and Pionsat.

abandoned paris orleans railway track bed montlucon gouttieres la cellette puy de dome franceThe railway is much more interesting.

It ran from Montlucon via Neris-Les-Bains and Pionsat to Gouttieres and hence to Clermont Ferrand and was the last major railway line to be opened in France (TGV tracks excluded of course),

Planned in the 1880s, construction started in 1913, was held up during the First World War and the line finally opened in 1931.

abandoned paris orleans railway track bed montlucon gouttieres la cellette puy de dome franceAll of this area was a railway bottleneck. A whole series of coal seams running from Lapeyrouse to Gouttieres had been discovered and developed, and coal trucks clogged up the rail network

As a result, they kept on building a series of railway lines to by-pass the congestion. Unfortunately each time they did this, they discovered yet another coal seam that they then exploited, leading to more coal trucks, which led to more congestion, which led to more by-passes.

abandoned paris orleans railway track bed montlucon gouttieres viaduc la cellette puy de dome franceBut not long after this line was opened, the coal seams exhausted and the infrastructure collapsed. The closed during World War II, reopened after a fashion once the war was over, but passenger traffic ceased shortly after, the last passenger train being a Paris-Neris “special” in 1957

The line beyond Pionsat, where we are walking, was abandoned quite quickly, but a goods service ran to Pionsat three times per week until 1973. How about that for a short-lived railway?

Of course it goes without saying that the earlier lines had all of the best routes, and the later lines ran over more and more difficult terrain. If you read what I wrote about the Waverley Line you’ll notice that I wax lyrically about the constant 1 in 75 gradient.

abandoned paris orleans railway tunnel les bouchards montlucon gouttieres la cellette puy de dome franceThat is a mere bagatelle compared to the long slog up from Pionsat to the tunnel that passes under the Font Nanaud. That tunnel, the Tunnel des Bouchards,

is 585 metres long and there are no rumours or conspiracy theories about it. No steam trains in working order ready to return to the rails when the oil runs out – no knights of King Arthur waiting to emerge when Drake bangs on his drum – just a protected site for a colony of rare bats.

It was a good day out today and I really enjoyed it.