Tag Archives: combrailles

Tuesday 21st July 2020 – JUST IN CASE …

… you’re all wondering where I am –

The answer is quite simple. I am in the bosom of friends (yes, I do have friends). And it’s one of the, if not the main, reason why I’m on the road right now.

Having crashed out definitively last night at about 21:30, I vaguely remember waking at about 01:30, finding that I was still lying there on top of the bed, saying “sod it” to myself and going back to sleep again right there.

The next time that I awoke, it was at 05:53 and I was still there on top of the bed.

This time I was awake for good, so I decided that that would be a good time for me to arise (before even the 1st alarm!) and attack the notes, of which there were plenty, from last night.

This was when we’d seen that body on the rocks and we were telling everyone but it didn’t make the slightest bit of difference. In the end someone believed us so we had to negotiate our way back to this clifftop. I was worried now having told someone that either it had gone or I’d imagined it or something, but when we got there sure enough there it was sprawled on the rocks. We got this guy to call for the police and an ambulance but for some unknown reason he had very great difficulty getting through.

Later on i was in LeClerc. It was more like 23:00 but I was shopping for stuff for breakfast. I had to work out where everything is and what I wanted and how to get the best available qualities. In the fresh vegetable stall I bumped into Liz. I was picking loads of carrots with their heads on and putting three in my basket. I was talking to Liz about how I used to plant the heads for fun when I’d cut them off the carrots and even a few of them would grow again. Liz said that she still did that and they always seemed to grow for her. By now we were standing in a garden somewhere and it was beautiful. The wind was blowing and I was watching my wind turbine going round faster and faster and faster but I thought that this was still slow for what it was supposed to be doing. it should be doing much better than this. Then Caliburn turned up driving down the lane to my house

There was still plenty of time after this to go for another walkabout. I found myself in Iceland but it was the strangest kind of Iceland I’ve ever been to. We were in a hotel and had an hour or two to wait before we needed to go to the airport or wherever it was from where we were leaving so they took us into town. I had my backpack my guitar and something else with me. They dropped us off for a walk round and we’d all meet back at the railway station. I walked around, or tried to walk around but I had so much stuff to carry with me and I didn’t even have my suitcase at this time. It was really inconvenient. I was struggling to get around. We ended up having to get back to the station (in Iceland, that has never ever had a public rail network!) to pick up the bus to go back to the hotel. In the end I ended up back there but everyone else was back there already. I thought that this time had gone really quickly and I hadn’t done half of what I needed to do. We all went to get back onto the bus as the bus was ready one of the boys upstairs came down to talk to the travel host who was Matthew Swann. It turned out that a girl had been ill and we were waiting for the ambulance. It turned up and first of all this other girl came down. She was a bit shaky. Then they went upstairs and came down carrying a girl. She was in quite a state and the first girl was saying to the ill one “you’ve got to eat, you’ve got to drink at least every 5 days especially when you’ve been sick” all this kind of thing. They just dumped her in the corner of an ambulance and the ambulace guy said in perfect English “yes she’ll have to be wrapped in another blanket – she can’t be wrapped in that one”. They started to get her out and put her in the ambulance.

But earlier I’d been on another bus as well. I don’t know where I was and I had to work out how I was going to get to Crewe. It was a long complicated journey and I was waiting for the bus to do the first stage and around the corner came the K43 with “Crewe” on it. I got on and the conductor came round to ask for my fare and I couldn’t remember the name of the bus stop. I tried to describe it to him “it’s the one after …” bit I couldn’t think of the name of the one before it either. In the end I asked “is the fare to Crewe all the same? Just give me a ticket to Crewe”.

When I had finished it was breakfast time so I went downstairs to see what was on offer. I had the fresh bread and jam with coffee and juice.

We had been told to wear masks in the dining room, so I remember saying that it would be fun trying to eat, but the lady reassured me, saying that it was only when we were moving around. Sitting down with our food, we didn’t need masks.

It was a pretty quick meal – I wasn’t down there for long and qfter breakfast I came back here and packed everything. By 09:00 I was back on the road.

Not very far though. First call was at LeClerc the other side of the motorway where I stocked up with groceries and the like, and then I made a phone call as I watched an artic lorry to perform a series of complicated manoeuvres.

Second port of call was the LeClerc fuel station where I fuelled up with diesel.

Off on my travels, and the route as far as Evaux-les-Bains was quite as I remembered it. And then a merry, mazy winding way through the hills and the side roads until I ended up at Rosemary’s.

If you think that where I live is quite beautiful, it’s not a patch on where Rosemary lives. Her house is perched on the clifftop overlooking the Gorge de la Sioule, the gash that cleaves the Combrailles in two and which as the River Sioule running through it, along the bottom.

And this is where I’m staying for the next few nights as there are things that I need to be doing before we go back into lockdown.

Lunch was prepared already when I arrived and then afterwards I made another phone call – this time to Ingrid to tell her that I was here. And we made certain arrangements.

A good search of Caliburn to find a very important item finally came good and then we had some organising to do.

All of that took up a good part of the afternoon followed by which we just chatted for a while about nothing in p
particular.

After we’d had our evening meal, Rosemary took me out for a walk around her neighbourhood

While I know the area pretty well to drive through it, just like anywhere else in rural France there are loads of little pathways and trackways that you only know if you are a local. And so disturbing the ponies in a neighbouring field, we disappeared off into the depths of darkest Combrailles

Rural France has never been troubled particularly by an invader who has disrupted the society in quite the same way that The Romans, the Saxons, the Vikings and the Normans did in England and so many of the paths down which we were walking have their roots going back into antiquity and even prehistory.

Very rarely was this this area carved up into great estates and parkland that overwhelmed the traditional “parcelles” of the local peasantry and the patchwork of fields and tracks is all just as it might have been when this area was reclaimed from the climax forest that covered it.

It was actually quite late when we set out for our walk.

It’s July of course at the moment and it stays light usually until quite late. Right now the sun is just disappearing over the brow of the hill. So we didn’t hang around particularly – a nice lap around the paths and tracks and then back down the lane to home.

So now it’s bedtime. Not exactly an exciting or busy day, but I was exhausted after my trip. I wanted to rest because It’s all going to kick off from here, as regular readers of this rubbish will recall seeing in a few weeks time as the story unfolds.

As I said a while back, we are heading for a second lock-down, I’m convinced of that, and there is no time like the present to do certain things. It’s now or never.

Wednesday 14th June 2017 – AFTER THE EXERTIONS …

… of the last couple of days, it will come as no surprise to regular readers of this rubbish that, just like the mathematician named Hall, today I have done three-fifths of five-eights of … errr … nothing.

Mind you, apart from being worn out before I went to bed, what I got up to during the night tired me out even further. And I’m not talking about Percy Penguin, who as I have said before, didn’t appear in these pages half as much as she deserved to when her presence was relevant.

We were off on our travels during the night and we had a Spanish flavour to them. I was trying to negotiate something from someone in a Spanish scrapyard, or something to do with bits of Spanish vehicles. My Spanish was, as usual execrable and I was making extremely heavy weather of it all in fact, we really DID have an occasion like this in real life back in 1997.
From there I pressed on , in my electric vehicle that bore a strong resemblance to a Sinclair C5, except that it only went half as fast. Some young bond guy with an unkempt beard was at the side of the road and when he saw me coming he stuck out his thumb for a lift. But I was certain that he was walking faster than I was driving, so I told him that my 300-watt motor was struggling to pull me along, never mind anyone else as well.
I ended up at one of these “alternative lifestyle” meetings that I used to go to when I first arrived in the Auvergne (and stopped going to when I – very quickly – worked out that they were more capitalist than the capitalists) where I ended up giving away some of my possessions. Unfortunately the stuff that I wanted to keep was mixed up in there too and some African girl took my toaster, which would be no use to her at all as it had a British plug on it.

And this of course reminds me. Once a month or thereabouts in the Combrailles is a “free market” where people take stuff that they no longer need and give it away to others. And the story goes, so I have been told, that one woman always comes, always takes a few things, and always ends up selling them on the internet.

Yes, that lot of New Age people in the Combrailles were a HUGE disappointment, but that’s all behind me now.

This morning I couldn’t find my medication so I had to break open a new collection of stuff. I ended up convincing myself that I must have left it all behind in Leuven but then a few hours later I had a brainwave, and had a look in one of the inner pockets in my rucksack. And sure enough …

Lunch was up on the clifftop overlooking the harbour, sitting on the wall in the burning sun. And after about an hour or so, the heat drove me back inside. It’s quite exposed out there, but it really was nice.

Tea was something quick thrown together. A pile of pasta, a tin of peas and carrots and a tin of runner beans. When it was cooked, it was fried in olive oil and garlic with some herbs added for good measure, and a dollop of balsamic vinegar. And how delicious was that?

And that’s your lot. Nothing of excitement at all. And now I’m for bed.

Tomorrow is a new day and I’ll try my best to accomplish something.

Monday 5th December 2016 -DRAT AND DOUBLE-DRAT!

The other week, we discussed the problem of burst tyres on the motorway.

And so it should come as no surprise to learn that it was the turn of Yours Truly today.

Not quite on the motorway – in fact about 400 metres after I’d pulled off at Montlucon. But a flat tyre just the same. There’s a nail in it somehow.

Luckily, if there is such a thing that can be called lucky, regular readers will recall from 2012 when I had a blow-out on the M6 near Stoke on Trent, I’d pushed the boat out and bought three really good Hankook tyres. The fourth was a second-hand cheap tyre that I had bought because of the wheel that was attached to it. There was plenty of tread on it but I didn’t expect it to last very long. Anyway, it’s this one that has the puncture.

There’s a spare on Caliburn and that was a second-hand one that I bought for the wheel (it was the time when I was collecting a second set of wheels for the winter tyres). But when I had a look at it … well … I’ve thrown away better tyres than this. A fair amount of tread to be sure, but standing around for as long as it has has done it no favours. But at least I was mobile with not much effort.

My new enhanced mobility took me to the LeClerc supermarket where I stocked up with another big supply of food for Belgium. And while I was there, I had another big laugh at the selfishness of other drivers.

The driver of this car parked it up at the supermarket – and pretty badly parked at that – and walked away – and then turned round to come back and parked his car even worse, straddling the white lines.

The selfishness of people is astonishing, isn’t it?

Having done the shopping, I went off in search of some tyres. I’ve ordered two brand-new Hankooks and they will be delivered on Friday. They will be going on the front, the other Hankook that is still on the front will be the spare, and the nasty spare tyre will be going in the bin.

But I’m not thinking very clearly here. What I should have done was to forget about the new tyres, come back home and fitted Caliburn with his winter tyres on the front. And the money situation is going to be important because on the way down from Leuven, I could feel the other wheel bearing start to tighten up and that’s going to have to be looked at. It’s yet more expense that I can do without.

I had a decent sleep last night and the breakfast at the Premiere Class was quite good. And then I hung around there doing stuff until about 11:00. When they threw me out of the hotel I hit the road and drove steadily down to Montlucon

I cut the corner off down at the end of the road and came back through Bourbon l’Archambault, and this building caught my eye.

You should all know what it is because I’ve taken you to see a few of these. It’s the old railway station of Bourbon l’Archambault and the railway concerned is the tacot, the metre-gauge railway network that covered the Allier during the first half of the 20th Century.

Built far too late to have a decisive influence on the country’s transport policy and built too cheaply, serving the layout of the terrain rather that the needs of the passengers (one commentator described the railway stations as decorating the abandoned landscape), the only surprise was that they lasted aslong as they did before road transport swept them away

There’s a new chain of budget hotels opening in France – called Ace Hotels. One has been built on the edge of Montlucon and so I went for a look around.

At just €49:00 per night, it’s excellent. Certainly the best budget hotel in which I’ve ever stayed. The only complaint is that there aren’t enough of them yet.

My view from the window was excellent, right across the motorway and into the Combrailles at the back. That’s where I’ll be heading tomorrow.

So in the meantime, I ordered a pizza and wasn’t that a disappointment? Overpriced, undercooked and crushed up on one side of the box – someone had carried it vertically.

I shan’t be going to that pizza place again.

Wednesday 16th March 2016 – HOW WE LAUGHED …

… when the nurse said something last night about it going to snow today. And so would you have done, given the glorious day we had yesterday.

But coming back from Montlucon, and passing through Villebret where you start to climb up into the Combrailles, I saw a few suspicious-looking white flakes being blown about in the sky. By the time I climbed up over the Font Nanaud and down the other side towards St Gervais, the sky was clear again but about half an hour after arriving back here, we got the lot. There’s now about 10mm of snow outside and it’s still falling.

Yes, and I have to go back (GRRRRR!) to Montlucon and the hospital tomorrow too. I arrived there nice and early but had to wait for almost three quarters of an hour before I was seen properly by the nurse. She examined where I’d been injected and where I’d been patched, and told me that there is some reaction so I need to return for further tests.

You don’t need me to tell you what I think of that.

But anyway, off up to the day hospital and the blood transfusion. My favourite nurse and my second-favourite student were there and once more there was a decent and convivial crowd in the room. We all had quite a laugh and a good time, which made us all feel better and helped the time pass by.

Lunch was the usual disgusting muck but at least it was something, I suppose. And although I was finished by 14:30 I told them that I wasn’t leaving until I had had my mid-afternoon coffee.

On the way back from Montlucon I got myself lost in the back streets trying to find the short cut to LIDL. I needed some of my vitamin B12 juice and some sparkling water, and I also bought a couple of big packets of crisps and some packets of sweets to nibble on while I’m driving to Leuven. And they sell 1-litre bottles of orange juice in there and they are just the thing to drink in the van while I’m driving but as usual, Bane of Britain forgot to buy any.

I was going to go back home for a couple of hours afterwards too but it was rather cold and that made me think for a moment, and then with the white stuff, I decided that being back in the warmth and off the road was a much better plan.

And here I am and there I’ll be in a moment – in bed. I’m not going for a walk tonight as I’ve walked far enough today (as well as going all around the hospital I had to go off to find the Records Department to pick up a copy of my file to take to Leuven).

And while I’m on the subject of files and records, I did ask the doctor there to prepare his file and records ready for me to pick up. And so I went to see his secretary and it will come as no surprise to you all to learn that he hasn’t done so. I told her “Friday at the latest” (well, actually vendredi au plus tard, but you get the idea).

So I hope that I have a more interesting and exciting sleep than I did last night. I was out like a light in a very deep sleep and the only recollection of what happened was what was on the dictaphone. And we were dealing with football issues yet again.

We were talking about the Controle Technique in football (well, exactly!) and one of the issues in this is that the player concerned has to take a penalty kick. Now it doesn’t matter whether the player scores or misses, or whether it’s saved by the keeper – it’s all down to whether the player is capable of kicking the ball in that situation. One player having his Controle Technique came out onto the field. He was wearing a red football shirt with his name on the back – a really long name that ended with Platini. He was preparing to take the kick but we noticed that underneath his shirt he was wearing a Father Christmas outfit complete with hood trimmed in white and with a white bobble – and his hood is up on his head. He runs in to take the penalty as soon as the whistle is blown, but almost immediately the whistle is blown again to stop the kick being taken, in order to order him to put his hood down so that the controller could see his head and face. And so he does, and then he runs in and takes the kick again. However the keeper is really quick off his line and manages to block the ball with his knees. The ball thus ricochets off his knees up into the air. Now the goal that they are using for this is actually an over-bridge, so it’s clearly the correct dimensions for a goal underneath it. The ball balloons up and over the bridge past the people who are crossing the bridge and then back down the other side and goes quite a way away. The man who has taken the penalty now needs another ball to do something different and so he climbs up the side of the cutting which this bridge crosses, and plucks another ball that was in a bush that was growing on the top of the cutting, so they can continue this Controle Technique.

After all of that, I was down here early yet again, breakfasted and off on the road at 07:30 with the coffee in my Tim Hortons thermal mug. The drive was pretty uneventful with no-one in my way and even though I stopped at the bank to add to the fighting fund, I was at the hospital for 08:20.

I spent most of the day dealing with my Canada 2014 voyage for the month of September. I’ve now arrived back on Nova Scotia (travelling backwards of course) but then I had to start from the other end at Montreal and reach as far as the Sorel – St Ignace ferry across the St Lawrence because there’s a gap in my notes. I know that they are there because I remember transcribing them and I’m sure that I’ve seen them, but they are probably out of order so I’ll need to find them – and the easiest way to find them is to start at the other and and file the stuff from there, and eventually I’ll come across them.

That’s a nice job for me tomorrow then, seeing as how I have to spend all blasted day in that perishing mausoleum.

Saturday 13th October 2012 – I DIDN’T MANAGE …

… my quiet day at home today. It all went wrong from the very beginning.

The boulangère forgot to come this morning so in one swell foop I’ve gone from having far too much bread to not having enough.

That prompted a quick visit into Pionsat to stock up with bread, and to hope that the boulangère remembers me on Tuesday

Anyway, despite being considerably sidetracked all throughout today what with one thing and another, I managed to finish the Additional Notes for the radio programmes for the month of November.

With the Rock Programme notes already completed, I just need to choose a main text for the November programmes. There’s probably enough in the pipeline already actually but it’s as well to be sure. And when that’s completed I can start writing the Christmas Special

As there was no football tonight, I had a little pause and watched a football match on the computer. Now, Oldham Athletic? Isn’t that another good oxymoron? It’s almost as good as British Intelligence or Government Service.

However, not to be outdone, surfing the internet I discovered that the football in the Creuse is organised slightly differently than in the Auvergne, and there are league matches this weekend, not Cup matches.

And if that wasn’t enough, Auzance’s 2nd XI was at home against Dontreix-Chard in the 3rd Division.

It’s probably 15 years since I’ve been to Auzances and seeing as I think that I should get out more often (a sentiment with which many regular readers of this rubbish will agree) I set off into the unknown.

Quite a charming stadium in a nice urban setting, in what looked as if it might at one time have been an old quarry.

But the match itself was total rubbish. Dontreix-Chard were awful, but Auzances were even worse.

Even FC Pionsat St Hilaire’s 3rd Xi could have taken on both of these teams simultaneously and held their own – and everyone else’s too – quite comfortably, I reckon.

4-2 it finished to Dontreix, and the big mystery was how come Dontreix-Chard managed to let Auzances score twice.

Dontreix-Chard’s fourth goal was a calamity that came out of absolutely nowhere.

3-2 down in the dying minutes and having Dontreix-Chard (surprisingly) under the cosh, Auzances win a corner. It’s everyone forward, and even the Auzances goalkeeper decides to go up.

However, as he is about three-quarters of the way upfield, his team-mates take the kick, not having seen him advancing.

The Dontreix players have seen him though, and when they win possession it’s the long ball right upfield over the Auzances keeper’s head, and Goodnight Vienna.

The Auzances keeper throws down his gloves and storms off the field – “I’m not playing with you guys any more”. Reminded me of Roxanne at Primary School when she was about 7 or 8.

There’s a pizzeria right next to the ground, and so I treated myself to a take-away – second weekend in succession after all of these years of doing without. After all, it’s a 35-minute drive back home and who feels like cooking at 22:45?

And a nice pizza it was too, especially the spicy oil dressing

But never mind the Combrailles – how about the Creuse for The Land That Time Forgot? On the D988 out of Pionsat through St Hilaire and St Maurice près Pionsat, it’s a nice two-lane blacktop with clear white lines – a reasonably fast road considering the terrain.

But cross over the border into the Creuze – it’s like the lane up to my house from the bottom road. Narrow, grey gravel, no centre markings, potholes and patches.

It’s a whole world of difference. It’s just like turning the clock back 25 years, which is astonishing considering that here in the Combrailles we are 100 years behind the times.

I forgot to mention that I put out the washing today to let it dry off, and this time I did bring it in before I went out. What has reminded me of this is that it has just this second started to rain.

-4

Thursday 7th June 2012 – YOU MAY REMEMBER …

… that we discussed weedkiller the other day.

Joy suggested a 50-50 mix of vinegar and water and so I tried it. And you can see the result.

A pile of burnt and scorched grass. And so there’s clearly some mileage in that idea,

Thanks, Joy, but I shudder to think about how much vinegar I’m going to need.

This morning it was work as usual on the website but I didn’t get much done due to a couple of lengthy and complicated phone calls that led to a lengthy form-filling session.

All of that made me late for my trip with Marianne and while Liz was wishing me all the best for the afternoon and me saying something like “knowing my luck it will pour down with rain” we suddenly had the most terrific thunderstorm and cloudburst.

Right on cue, you might say.

And so I picked up Marianne and off we went for a good wander around Chateau-sur-Cher.

The village is so named because the remains of a Gallo-Roman fort were discovered on the promontory overlooking the River Cher, on the spot where the church sits today.

It’s certainly an impressive site for a defensive fortification – surrounded on three sides by a very steep climb and I can understand why the Gauls would have chosen it

not only were there some interesting sights to see around the village and around the river, but that we were also directed to an intact chalk-oven and to an outcrop of a coal seam somewhere out off the beaten track on the way back to St Hilaire-près-Pionsat.

The chalk oven took some finding and that’s hardly a surprise. You can see that the chimney is all overgrown with all kinds of everything and you really did have to know where it was before you could see it properly

But it was totally fascinating, as a good exploration confirmed once I’d been able to hack my way through the vegetation into it.

It seems to have been built from a kit or something like that, because the fire bars are noted with Roman numerals – presumably indicating the position and order in which they should be assembled.

I’ve never seen that before.

Apparently the coal seam that we visited 2 years ago and about which I posted on here breaks out in a few other places in the Combrailles.

We had a good scratch around in the vicinity and, sure enough, we found some evidence. Not worth coming here with a mechanical shovel though – the Highways Department’s sign erectors would have been here a long time ago had it been worth the effort.

There are even some mining remains where someone had a go at trying to exploit it, but they are all overgrown apparently (as if the chimney was not) and so we need to wait for winter to hunt for those.

Highlight, for me at least, has to be this beast sitting here abandoned inthe garden of an abandoned cottage in the village.

It’s a Cadillac DeVille, one of the “fourth generation” models from the early 1970s I reckon, and what is significant about it is that according to the maker’s plate under the bonnet it’s actually a “Bienne” – a Swiss model made in that town where general Motors had an assembly plant for 40 years until 1975.

But scrambling over vehicles like this brought back some very happy memories. How poor Nerina must have suffered.

Meanwhile, in other news, I’ve run out of black ink for the printer. I’ll have to see if Terry can order some more for me.

-1

Sunday 1st April 2012 – Well, I dunno …

… what happened to the footy this afternoon at Pionsat’s ground. After something of a considerable thrash (and I mean “thrash” as well) through the delightful Combrailles countryside, I arrive at the Pionsat ground at 15:10 – 10 minutes after kick-off -to find the place all locked up and deserted.

Someone has been playing an April Fool’s Joke on me, I reckon.

So why the thrash through the countryside? Well, that was because at 13:00 Pionsat’s 1st XI was playing at St Priest and I’d gone down there first.

This was a match that swung like a pendulum – Pionsat were all over St Priest for the first half an hour and were 1-0 to the good. Then we had half an hour of St Priest to take the match to 2-1 for them, and finally another 30 minutes of Pionsat with the score ending 3-2 in their favour. And I reckoned on the balance of play that they deserved it.

But there is always a little contention between these two teams and today was no exception. A fair amount of unnecessariness, including an excellent left hook from a St Priest defender that put Gaëtan on his back for a full five minutes (and for which a card of the colour … errrr … yellow was produced). It must be me, I think. I seem to be the only one making any kind of remark about things like this.

Anyway, back at Pionsat, I went round to see if Marianne was in and we ended up going for a walk along the old railway line.

It looks quite good in that photo just here, but it isn’t. Along much of its length we could have done with a machete or two, and something to help us with the barbed wire would have come in useful too. And we did find (quite by accident) a place where there was an astonishing view right across the valley over to La Cellette in the distance with the viaduct in the background.

And if the view was so good, how come it isn’t reproduced here? Well that’s because bird-brain of Britain here ran out of SIM card, so after all of these exertions we’ll have to go back and do most of it again.

One thing I forgot to mention yesterday. That is that going out in the early afternoon I happened to glance out of the window and I noticed nothing special about the trees. Going out to the football several hours later I happened to glance out of the window again and they were all covered in blossom. That’s how quickly spring has arrived here – all of five hours. It really is astonishing.

-3

Thursday 17th November 2011 – HAVE A CLOSE …

… look at this photo and see if you can spot where the Gorge de la Sioule might be.

It’s one thing I like about going out to Liz and Terry’s early in the morning – the fact that they live right on the edge of the gorge. And because the gorge is so deep and so steep the sun can’t shine into it until it has well-risen.

That means that the surrounding ground is quite warm whereas at the bottom of the gorge the air is quite cold and damp. And when the sun is high enough to enter the gorge it dramatically heats the cold damp air and you have clouds of condensation rising up from the gorge quite spectacularly.

Liz had to do some kind of newspaper interview the other week, in which she described the Combrailles as “The Land That Time Forgot”, and you can see clearly exactly what she means by that.

But it’s not just that view from here (in case you haven’t guessed, we’re at the bird-watching site at the back of St Gervais d’Auvergne again) that is spectacular. There’s a spectacular view across to the Puy de Sancy and the Mont Dore away over there.

All swathed in a hanging cloud or two too.

And if I’m not mistaken, I reckon that I can see some snow up there too. Winter is definitely icumen in. Lhude sing Rudolph

It’s a litle-known fact that when the system of départements was created, what is today the départements of the Puy-de-Dome was to be called the départements of Mont-Dore – which is after all the most significant feature of the region. However, the locals objected, saying that it sounded too much like the mont d’or – a mountain made of gold – and would give the impression that this was an extremely wealthy region.

And so today Terry and I bricked up one of the doorways (their house is two small cottages knocked into one) and fitted the window in the upper half, and then fitted the new door in the other doorway.

And it wasn’t as straight-forward as you might think either. The old doors had been made-to-measure for the doorways and of course, as we discovered as we were trying to fit everything, the door openings were not built straight. That was a complication we didn’t need.

Fitting the door was exciting though. We spent 10 minutes trying to make it seat on the hinge pins,and you’ve no idea how easily it fitted when we took out the wedge that was trapped underneath it.

And we also spent half an hour trying everything that we could to make the door close and you’ve no idea how well it closed when we took the packing strip out of the aluminium closing tray.

Ahhh well. You live and learn, I suppose.

Anyway,tomorrow I’ll be fitting the wind turbine if the weather holds, and now that I have my diamond core drills, I’ll be drilling from the house through into the lean-to and running cables there.

If I’m not careful,I might even have light and power in there tomorrow night.

-1

Sunday 3rd July 2011 – Remember yesterday …

… when I said that today I would be working on the guttering and the water filter system? Well in fact that was what I did this afternoon and you can see the results just here in the photo. We now have full-sized guttering and a full-sized downpipe with a decent-sized sump that is angled down to where the drain is.

The tube down to the settling pipe is 80mm like the rest of the guttering, and from there on, nothing else has changed.

I’ve been trying to fit a covering over the top but I can’t get it to fasten down. In the end I’ll be having to resort to cable ties I reckon. Now where did I put my cable ties then?

I also said that I would be doing some bread baking, but the less said about that the better. Apart from dropping some of my mix on the floor, I ended up with a couple of soggy lumps of I’m not quite sure what – and that after spending I don’t know how long looking for a third shelf for the oven. I reckon that the “best before” date of April 2010 might have something to do with this, and so I’ll have another go with some fresh stuff and see what happens. But I really need a decent flat tray for the oven.

Marianne the local journalist from the newspaper La Montagne rang me up this morning to invite me to Roche D’Agoux for her presentation at the tourism morning. She drove in her car and I went as passenger.

This was not really such a sound move as I get bored with this kind of thing after about half an hour. I’m not really much of a socialite as you all know and 2 hours and more is more than enough for me.

And so after a while I slipped away and went for a little walk around the village. Only a little walk of course because there isn’t too much of a village to see.It’s only a small place.

Centre of every village in France is the church, and generally speaking, they are well-worth seeing. The one here at Roche d’Agoux is no exception and is, for a change, in an exceptionally-good state of preservation for such a small village.

One thing for which Roche d’Agoux is famous (because it has several claims to fame which we shall discuss in early course) is that it has a public 10-pin bowling alley – a jeux de quilles in the open air.

It actually works too, so I was told later, and I would have loved to have had a go. But I think that you have to bring your own bowling balls. But anyway, it’s not what you would expect to find in a village like this.

Back at the tourism exhibition, I discovered that the organisers were the people who organise the vintage fete at St Maurice pres Pionsat where they have all of the old cars. I had a good chat with one of the organisers about the Minerva – so much so that I’ve been invited to exhibit it there on August 14th. I need to get a move on and get it running.

When the do was over, I told Marianne about my little wander around the village and the visit to the church. She told me that the church is quite famous – one of the several things for which Roche d’Agoux is famous – and that we should visit the inside of it.

She went off on a voyage somewhere and came back brandishing the keys to the front door. She knew who held them and had gone off for a little negotiation on my behalf

In the immediate vicinity of Roche d’Agoux in the Middle Ages was a very large leper colony and they were isolated from the general community, as you might have expected in those days.

However, the lepers were obliged to attend Mass just the same as everyone else and so special provisions were made for them in the church. They had their own alcove away from the mainstream congregation and could witness the mass through a special leper window

Another claim to fame for Roche d’Agoux is that the village is built on an bed of quartz that runs for maybe 20 kilometres across the north-western Combrailles.

The village takes its name from one of the most important outcrops of this bed, It is full of quartz and semi-precious stones and has been exploited for its precious stones in the past as well as having been quarried for building material.

Now, it’s a viewpoint for the village and the surrounding area. There are steps around the side and you can climb up to the top for a look.

It’s often been said that the rock that we have just seen is part of a Medieval castle that was situated here in the village but that’s not correct. This was something that was written in a guide book in the 1880s and has simply been copied out liberally without anyone having actually come here to visit the site.

There was indeed a medieval castle chateau fort here in Roche d’Agoux, but that was over there on that eminence – the small hill over there about a quarter of a mile away from the rock.

Unfortunately we cannot go to visit it as it’s on private property and the owner doesn’t encourage tourists which is a shame. But apparently there are quite a few remains that can be seen, according to someone who went there many years ago.

There are some ruins visible here and it doesn’t take much imagination for them to be pictured as remains of the castle or even remains of a wall around the village, but that is pure speculation.

But anyway, all of this area was the fiefdom of Guillaume de Rochedagoux in the mid-13th Century. He was famous for having gone on one of the Crusades to the Holy Land. He passed through the land of the Armenians (you have to remember that back in those days the territory of Armenia was much bigger than it is in modern times), noticed the skilled weavers there, and brought some of them back.

This accounts for the history that this region had as a flax-weaving area in the past, and accounts for names of places in the area (for example the Moulin des Armenièns) and the surname Desarmenièn that you encounter around here.

Anyway the hospitality had been freely flowing at the fete de tourisme, so much so that I had to drive back.

And I still had time, after playing for a while with the rainfall harvesting equipment to go off to Arpheuilles St Priest and the brocante that they were having today.

There weren’t many stalls there – despite the glorious weather – by the time that I arrived and I wasn’t able to go mad. but “spend, spend, spend” it was indeed and I was out by as much as €4:00 by the time that I left.

But the brocante was not my only reason for going to Arpheuilles St Priest. We’ve talked … "at great length" – ed … about the tacot or ligne economique, the narrow-gauge line that meandered through this area of the Allier between Marcillat en Combraille.

It actually passed through (and that’s a rare thing – that the tacot actually passed through anywhere) Arpheuilles St Priest and so I reckoned that I would go and see if I can find any trace of the line.

And having waded through a couple of hedges and a pile of weeds (and someone’s nicely-mown lawn) this is, what I reckon might have been the track-bed of the line. It’s very much like the width that an abandoned railway line might be and it’s heading in the general direction of Commentry

And now that I know what a tacot railway station looks like, having identified the one at Marcillat en Combraille the other day, I could go off and look for a building that corresponds.

And here we are – following my track-bed backwards across the road I ended up peering through the trees at this building, and this is what my money is on. This looks like a tacot railway station to me if ever I saw one.

So wasn’t this a busy day then? It kept me well out of mischief and I learnt a lot too.

And so have you now.

-1

Tuesday 28th June 2011 – And just for a change …

I was up before the alarm clock at 08:30 – dunno what happened there. But it meant that I was in plenty of time to go down to the bank and pay for the bits for my broken anemometer before going to Marcillat en Combraille to record the Radio Anglais programmes for Radio Tartasse.

The guy from the Danish company that sells the bits sent me a nice e-mail with all of the information that I needed to know – the IBAN account, the SWIFT number and all of that and so I duly printed it out and took it to the bank. The bank official took one look at it and said “what’s the company called?”. It seems that the information wasn’t as complete as I had thought.

And so after Radio Tartasse it was down across the Puy-de-Dome to Gerzat to record for Radio Arverne – but the major issue here was that the garage at St Gervais d’Auvergne had sold out of diesel. An enforced trip to Les Ancizes solved that issue but that took a good 20 minutes out of our itinerary leaving us with just enough time to grab a butty and a coffee at Chatel-Guyon.

While we were in the Radio offices we could see the storm break over the Combrailles and impressive was not the word. Magnificent is much better and it did really make us wonder what it was that we might be coming home to.

The Carrefour at Riom came up trupms again – not only did I do my shopping but they were selling off electric 12-volt coolboxes at €24:00 – not very big but big enough to fit in Caliburn’s footwell for when I’m on my travels and it’ll hold a good few items and (hopefully) keep them cool. But not only that it was having a sale of SatNavs and I now have a little Western European Mio Moov M305 – for all of €59:00, to replace the other one that mysteriously disappeared. It has speed camera warning installed but not only that, I can sign for a 3-year update of the speed cameras for €49:95 and maps of North America are available for €49:95 as well – meaning that I can sell the Magellan that I bought in Canada last year and get some of my money back.

On the way back home the devastation caused by the storm was impressive to say the least. We stopped between Manzat and Chateuneuf to take a pic of what looked like snow but it was in fact hailstones.

I measured them and they were about 20mm in diameter – and that was quite impressive too.

Back here, the temperature reached the high 30s but the storm had brought with it a total of 24mm of rain – and it’s still raining. It’s a mess here but then again the plants won’t be complaining. They will be loving it all.

But talking of coolboxes, I’ve been thinking again – which I know is dangerous. I’m using almost no electricity from the solar panels on the barn, except for the washing machine once a fortnight. And it’s a shame to waste it all. In addition, in a couple of weeks or so I’ll be moving them to their final position and adding the 4th panel that has been conspicuous by its absence.

It’s a shame to waste all of this electricity and so I have a cunning plan. From mystats I notice that in the year to 2009, which was the last complete year that I was relying on the panels over there, I generated 9000 amp-hours of electricity over there with 3 panels. So with 4 panels that should give me about 12,000 amp-hours in total. That’s in the region of 150 KwH. Now in that year about 40% of the days saw the batteries fully-charged, which meant that there was a good deal of electricity wasted. Add to this that with the solar panels in a much better position I ought to be getting much more electricity than I did back in 2009. Half as much again is not too much to hope for – I had 22,000 amp hours from each of the banks on the roof on the house – about 285 KwH.

Anyway, to cut a long story short “Hooray” – ed, I’ve been seeing some fridge-freezers – proper mains ones – that have a start-up motor of about 75 watts and (so they reckon) use about 135KwH on a normal daily basis – and so I’m wondering whether or not to splash out a bit of cash into a decent sine-wave inverter and small fridge-freezer, run it off the power in the barn and leave it in there.

That will be something to think about. But of course the most important thing to think about is where I’ll put it. You can’t even get a cat into the barn at the moment let alone swing it around.

-5

Tuesday 24th May 2011 – I know it’s not much, but …

… it’s all my own and grown with my own fair hands.

Yes, the strawberries are coming into season and this evening for tea I had the four that have ripened so far. It’s impressive that I’ve got some as well after the devastating winter that we had.

It put the seal on the day too, because it was beautiful. Liz and I recorded our programmes at Radio Tartasse and Radio Arverne, and in between we went for lunch at the side of the River Sioule in Chateauneuf-les-Bains, in the glorious weather that we had.

We went from Chateauneuf to Gerzat by the scenic route through Blot and Charbonnieres and that was a gorgeous drive too – all in all it was an excellent day.

But there are changes afoot at Radio Arverne. As we suspected all along, SMADC has withdrawn its funding from our programmes. And it’s worse than that too because SMADC was leasing the radio aerial that transmits to the Combrailles, at €13,000 per annum. Radio Arverne can’t pay that and so it stops our programmes being broadcast to our own heartland.

However, all is not lost. There are a couple of other areas within range of the other transmitter that want to take the programme, and so could we continue the programmes but direct them there instead? We are open to offers, of course, but we can’t research any events to publicise because we have no contacts there. And so we’ve left it that we will still come, that we will produce our programmes, and that the regions that want to broadcast them will supply us with details of the events.

As well as that, they want us to prolong the running time of the programmes. Strangely enough, Liz and I were talking about that. We had the idea to talk about recipes, local Auvergnat ones for the Brits and British recipes for the French, and also some kind of gardening stuff – “what are you doing in the garden right now?”.

So we’ll have to wait to see what happens. it’s all confusing but then again nothing worth doing is ever easy to do.

-4

Sunday 12th September 2010 – I made my refereeing debut today …

… but here is not the place to talk about it. It was just one of those days. Even the batteries in my new watch went flat.

The observer was quite friendly and helpful though – he made the point that I did well to turn my back and walk away from the inevitable moaning and criticism.
“How were you able to do that?” he asked. “Have you refereed before?”
“No” I replied “but I have been married”.
He noticed that Caliburn was parked right near the gate with the nose pointing outwards.
“Ready for a quick getaway” I explained.
“Aren’t you worried that someone might heave a brick through your window?” he asked
“Bricks haven’t been discovered yet in the Combrailles” I explained. “We’re still struggling to come to terms with the Stone Age”.

So I went round to Terry and Liz’s to give them their printer, and they very kindly fed me, which was nice of them. It was nice to see some friendly faces, but then I said that when I met the guys that I knew in Pontaumur. It’s amazing how quickly things can change.

I spoke to Bernard, the President of Pionsat Football Club, on the phone afterwards and told him about the game. He reckons that I ought to focus on the positives. He said he would have a word with the observer and call me back. “Focus on the positives” – well, it didn’t take us long.

There are many ways of earning a living than standing in the middle of a field while 100 people hurl abuse at you, but I wish I knew what they were. Craig Bellamy complained about the abuse that he received at West Ham United a year or so ago. He’s on about £50,000 a week at least. How would he like to do it for just €28, travelling expenses and a free shower?

-6

Sunday 29th August 2010 – It was the Virlet brocante today

Virlet, the village where I live (well, where I don’t live – it’s about 4kms from where I live but it’s my postal address as there isn’t another village any nearer) is the last outcrop of the Combrailles.

We’re looking north-east here right along the scarp slope that forms the edge of the Monts de la Combraille (the pinky orange scar right on the upper-right edge of the photo is the quarry where our sand and gravel comes from). The view is, of course, quite impressive from here as the village is situated on an outcrop – a kind-of finger that points north-eastward across the valley and the plains.

This spot where they are preparing the pig roast is the kind of place that any half-decent and self-respecting baron would have thrown up a castle back in the dim and distant dark ages because it’s just like this on two sides.

The third side is something of a similar ilk but not so steep, and the fourth side is a ridge-top that brings the main road up from Pionsat and part of which was the old Pilgrims’ Way that runs to Santiago De Compostela.

The Pilgrims would spend the night at the Abbaye de Bellaigues down there. The Abbey is a Benedictine Abbey founded in the 11th Century and situated down the steep slope to the north-west of the village.

The Pilgrims would leave the Abbey next morning and then they would climb up here and walk along the old ridgeway through Les Coursieres and through the forest path that passes about 200 metres from my house on the way to the next stop at La Cellette and the refuge at St Hilaire la Croix.

So that’s the exciting bits over. And I’m glad that there was something exciting because the brocante certainly wasn’t, unfortunately.

Dozens of stalls, dozens of vendors, a huge crowd of people (including some from the Footy Club with whom I had a good chat) and loads of interesting objects.

But the prices!!!!!

Someone wanted 40 Euros for a milk churn. Someone else wanted 30 Euros for a 1930s handpump. And 25 Euros for a manual coffee grinder. And 15 Euros for a car CD player etc etc. It’s a far cry from when I bought a chest of drawers for 7 Euros, a table-top washing machine for 10 Euros, a table-top saw without motor for 5 Euros etc.

The Virlet brocante used to be one of the best around but these prices will just scare everyone off. Some people have a very exaggerated idea of values, that’s all that I can say. The only think that I bought was a 1960s Michelin “Green Guide” of the Auvergne – tatty and falling apart but a respectable one Euro.

At least we had some entertainment, and that wasn’t too bad. There was a brass band – a fanfare as they are called in French – playing on a temporary stage by the village hall and they weren’t all that bad. I’ve seen much worse than these.

As well as that, there was the optional lunchtime meal and also a buvette – the beer tent. You can’t have a public gathering anywhere in France without having a buvette.

The most exciting thing at the brocante was parked up in the car park. A superficially-nice but underneath-the-paint-really-quite-tatty Citroen type “H” van that had been transformed into a mobile home was parked up not too far from Caliburn.

Now I have always liked these vans and have been looking around for one in something of a desultory fashion for many years.

And if I did find one, turning it into a caravanette would be quite interesting. They are mostly petrol but some were fitted with an old Perkins diesel engine and that would be quite interesting. A nice low-pressure pump that would run on vegetable oil would suit me fine.

Thinking about things, apart from Caliburn of course it’s been ages since I bought a car – 4.5 years in fact. A nice old collectors’ car or van would suit me fine, now that I’m starting to make some space for myself at home.

So apart from the brocan’t, I spent the rest of the day bringing my website up-to-date. All the photos since July 2009 are now on line and the monthly photo pages up to July this year are now on-line too. I can now start catching up on a few other things.

-4

Tuesday 13th July 2010 – Some people have all the luck

Terry had a job to do this morning and he needed a hand, so seeing as I owe him God knows how many days’ work I went along to help.

And where we ended up was at a house right on the edge of the Gorges de la Sioule – the cleft in the Combrailles that runs from South-West to North-East.

The view is certainly spectacular from here, that’s for sure and I wouldn’t mind a little field right up there at the back to build my log cabin.

And back home I started work on part one of the patent water filter system (and I would have done part two too but Terry forgot the puzzolane). Part one consists of a length of 40mm downspout, a reduction plate from 40mm to 100mm, a length of 100mm pipe, another reduction plate back to 40mm, a section from an old stainless steel mesh kitchen strainer and another length of 40mm pipe into the water butts. This first filter takes the place of the sump (the stones and the like sink to the bottom of the 100mm pipe) and the mesh filter inside the water butt.

You can see what I mean in the photo just here. Filter n°1 is the one on the right-hand side. The mesh is to the left of the filter so anything that I don’t want to drop into the tank will stay in the section of 100mm pipe – the grey stuff.

To the left of filter n°1 is another grey section of 100mm pipe. That will be filter n°2. It’s constructed in the same way as filter n°1 except that it will be filled with puzzolane and there will be stainless steel mesh at either end. The purpose of that will be to to keep the puzzolane in the section of 100mm pipe and that will be the water filter.

I’m eventually going to make up two sections of these so that I can change them and clean them. Cleaning by the way will be quite easy – you just put a pressure hose to blow backwards and that will move all of the debris out.

Of course the idea of using puzzolane is not new. The Romans were the first recorded users of puzzolane for filtration purposes (they also used it as a base for Roman concrete) but nature makes quite good use of it too – Volvic water from just down the road from here uses natural puzzolane seams to naturally filter the water that rises up from the water table. That’s ground water of course – and I’m using rain water so I bet mine will be cleaner than theirs.

Tonight I went into Pionsat for the annual fireworks display. And that was nothing much to write home about although it is nice to go out. But it did remind me of Guy Fawkes’ Night 1980 when I was a taxi driver in Crewe. There was a company in Crewe at that time called “Dial A Car” and they had two vehicles, a Vauxhall Victor Transcontinental Estate that was driven by one driver, and he had only one speed and that was “flat out everywhere”. The other car was an absolutely ancient and derelict Ford Zephyr. That night around Crewe these two cars became affectionately known as “Dial A Rocket” and “Dial A Banger”.

-9

Sunday 11th July 2010 – Now how weird is this?

I’ve had one of those days today that just became more and more weird as it drew on.

I went to Espinasse this afternoon for the local fete and as far as I was concerned it was a fete worse than death.

it got off to a bad start in my opinion before the day even started. We had the typical defilé as you might expect, but whoever heard of a village fete here in the Combrailles where there wasn’t even a hint of a brocante? The Combrailles is the brocante capital of the world and the locals will vider their greniers at the drop of a hat. All we had today was a brocan’t, and that’s not on at all.

Highlight was the Irish musicians who came on stage at 18:00.

Now I bet you that you can go into any Irish pub anywhere in the whole wide world, or any folk night anywhere in any English-speaking area of the world, or anywhere wherever any Celtic musicians might be grouped and the first two songs that you will always hear will be “Dirty Old Town” and “The Wild Rover”.

And here in the backwoods, miles from civilisation and 200 years behind the times, what did these Irish musicians play as his first two songs? YEEEEUUUUCCCCCHHHHHHH. I had a word with him about it afterwards, and his response was “ohh well”. Yes – ohh well indeed.

But that was not the most weird part of all of this. They stopped the music mid set …. to draw the lottery numbers and shout out the prizewinners. It was just like being in any Workingmen’s Club anywhere in the United Kingdom where they would stop the … entertainment … (and I use the term loosely) so that they could play bingo.

It was absolutely unbelievable.

Another thing that we had today that was astonishing was a politically-correct May Queen. Normally the May Queen of any village is a young teenage or preteen girl and there are good reasons for this, especially for the pagans amongst us, those of us who are more than 2,000 years old and with long memories and those of us happen to know a little about early medieval village life.

But of course the way the world is these days in the UK and other such cases it’s becoming less and less politically correct to have a real May Queen just in case someone might photograph her – but who would ever have thought that such a taboo (because that’s what it is in the strictest and literal sense of the word) would have reached down here?

Mind you, I know that it’s not a politically-correct thing to say, but it could just maybe be because they couldn’t find a virgin in the village?

Another thing that caught my eye was an American from Colorado Springs wandering around and wearing a T-shirt reading
“Land of the Free
Home of the Brave”.
Anyone who has ever read anything that I have ever written will know all about my opinion about the USA being “The Land of the Free“. Everywhere I’ve ever been in the USA it’s always been “please prepare your admission money”.

As for “Home of the Brave” – well Manifest Destiny, Sand Creek and Wounded Knee as well as hundreds if not thousands of other similar “incidents” saw to it that there are no longer any braves in the USA.

In fact the more I thought about it, the more offended I was about that blasted T-shirt and in the end I went and had an “frank exchange of views” with the wearer.

There was clearly something up with me today – I don’t normally let things like this get to me. It must have been the heat. In the end I came home and had a shower (and we aren’t talking about Open University Students Association’s Executive Committee either). 19:45 and still 43 degrees in the container. I’ve picked a good site for that.

-2

EPIC HALL

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality

Tag Archives: combrailles

Tuesday 21st July 2020 – JUST IN CASE …

Wednesday 14th June 2017 – AFTER THE EXERTIONS …

Monday 5th December 2016 -DRAT AND DOUBLE-DRAT!

Wednesday 16th March 2016 – HOW WE LAUGHED …

Saturday 13th October 2012 – I DIDN’T MANAGE …

Thursday 7th June 2012 – YOU MAY REMEMBER …

Sunday 1st April 2012 – Well, I dunno …

Thursday 17th November 2011 – HAVE A CLOSE …

Sunday 3rd July 2011 – Remember yesterday …

Tuesday 28th June 2011 – And just for a change …

Tuesday 24th May 2011 – I know it’s not much, but …

Sunday 12th September 2010 – I made my refereeing debut today …

Sunday 29th August 2010 – It was the Virlet brocante today

Tuesday 13th July 2010 – Some people have all the luck

Sunday 11th July 2010 – Now how weird is this?

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