Setting up home again ~ Missive 6 ~ and it's all a bit like Christmas

Dear All
I’ve suddenly realised that the covering letter has been steadily increasing in size, from a simple “Here’s the next missive,” to almost another chapter in itself!!
But not this time, simply an apology to all my readers that events have become a little muddled as to time line, and hoping that this has not marred your enjoyment of the contents too much and a thank you to all those who have replied and further apologies to those who have requested to be included on the list and have slipped through the net – hopefully now rectified?
Further replies, comments, suggestions (hopefully polite!!) gratefully received!!
Ladies and Gentlemen, pray silence whilst I prepare to entertain you forthwith, with mirth, merriment and near murder, Missive 6 attached for you edification and delight – I hope!!
Love
Roger
PS Largely due to problems of communication it’s a long one!!

La Loge
07759 753892
rogerhiggs@hotmail.co.uk

Mes chers amis

Setting up home again and it’s all a bit like Christmas

Having returned with what I’m sure was a seriously overloaded van, although remarkably fuel consumption remained the same full or empty, we then started to unpack, and sort out the rooms, though thankfully, in many ways, Victoria’s visit was delayed a little giving us a little more time. So we sorted out lights, washing machine, dish washer and filled the freezer as well as to having a Christmas experience, unpacking boxes and discovering what was really in them, as the contents scrawled on the top, didn’t always correspond too closely to what was actually contained therein!!


Communication problems

This was to be by way of an introduction but, as time goes by, warrants a section all for itself, and who knows may run and run and become a whole mystery / thriller novel, with a bit of bloodshed thrown in!! I’m afraid it might also mean that as the saga continues to roll, that this may become a monster missive!

The original introduction started ...... Soon communication will be easier, as on one of our less stressful and traumatic visits to bureaucracy, we found a lovely lady working for France Telecom, who despite professing to speaking little English, actually as is often the case spoke excellent English, but also insisted that we should at least try to do some of the transaction in French and we ended up agreeing, me speaking French and she speaking English, that the problem was not so much knowing what to say but being able to understand the answer, as it was delivered “très vite – very quickly!!” ...... We left the office buoyant and confident that in a couple of weeks we would be: on line unlimited, have a French phone number and have unlimited calls to English landlines, there must have been a spring in our step as bureaucracy had been overcome!!

How deceiving can things be. The time of the rendezvous with the technician came and went and they didn’t arrive and try as we might to contact the help desk; a lack of someone who spoke English, even just a little and our limited French as well as the broken promises to phone us back, saw me late in the day returning to the France Telecom office to find out what had happened, whilst Linda waited in just in case they were running late. Thankfully, I got the same lady, but she had obviously undergone a personality change and didn’t want to know and all she could do was make a further appointment, of which the earliest available was nine days hence. Protest as I might, the lady was not for turning, claimed it was out of her hands and ALL she could do was rebook the technician, and hope he came on the new date but she couldn’t guarantee it and didn’t know what she could do if he didn’t!! Very disgruntled and with a few choice words about the poor quality of service and I left with a very curt Au revoir. Arriving home, Linda was equally dismayed and we resolved to return to the shop the next day and do battle to move things on quicker. The next day brought no softening of the iron maiden and a point blank refusal to do any more, so with further disgruntled comments, and no Au revoir, we left the shop and waited the nine days that seemed inevitable.

Come the day of the second rendezvous, a Tuesday, and we had what seemed to be the first appointment, so rose early and spent the first couple of hours of the day standing in the road, so as to get a mobile signal should they be trying to contact us to find our rather out of the way location, but also to flag them down if they turned into the road and thought there was nothing down the road, as we’re a little tucked away beside a barn and could possibly be missed. Well, the allotted two hour block came and went, with no phone call and no sign of the engineer. So, becoming more and more disgruntled we waited for a reasonable time after lunch, again in case they were running late and once more returned to France Telecom shop, to find the iron maiden tied up with another customer and when we asked another assistant if she spoke English, it was an emphatic no! However, with broken French I explained the problem and suitably horrified the new sales assistant was straight on the phone, something the other lady had told us was impossible and there followed a series of heated exchanges on our behalf, culminating in the English speaker becoming involved and seeming finally to get somewhere, but sadly that some where was only another appointment another nine days hence, much to everyone in the shop’s annoyance.

Well, I’d kept quite calm to this point and demanded to know why they hadn’t arrived for the two rendezvous, to be told that they hadn’t been able to find us and weren’t able to phone an English mobile – which was news to us as this had been the contact number that had been taken!! It was then “toys out of the pram” time and we pointedly and fairly loudly said that the service was appalling and cancelled everything, storming out of the shop to make us feel better if nothing else.

We then went on the search for an alternative supplier and realised our mistake, all the opposition, whilst able to give us a contract, relied on France Telecom for the line!! A case of over a barrel, but at least the alternative we chose dealt with France Telecom and sorted it all out for us. But when they phoned up to get the wheels in motion, they were told that our number was barred!! With a liberal amount of steam rising, I stormed back to France Telecom to ask what was going on, to be told that as we had cancelled the contract it was common practise to bar the number for three days, but as Friday was a Bank Holiday and Fontenay shuts on a Monday it would be Tuesday!! I couldn’t help to feel that we were now in the realms of childishness, and not for the first time incredulously left without then energy, or sadly sufficient suitable language to argue. However, the other providers had been very helpful, so we returned, explained and said we would be in the following week to sort it out!

We returned home, resigned to further bouts of sitting outside local tourist offices or churches and using a Vendée Wi Fi hotspot!! Imagine then our utter surprise, to receive a phone call early morning a couple of days later, in French, seeming I thought to say that the engineer would be with us at midday and ending abruptly as the language was causing a problem!! Part shock and part insufficient language again made me accept the appointment and not mention that we had cancelled the contract, deciding we could go in and reinstate it once the engineer had been. Then they didn’t arrive and I started to have doubts about whether I had properly understood the conversation! But, at one thirty a blue car skidded to a stop outside the house, out jumped a man who shook hands and introduced himself and I had to check he was in fact the engineer, to which he replied “Of course” and did have the grace to apologise for being late! What’s the odd twenty one days amongst friends!!

But the job was done and the telephone connection would become live twenty four hours later, so back to madam at the France Telecom office (incidentally a round trip of about 22 miles each time) who was at her charming most UNHELPFUL yet and told us that it was impossible that we were connected and why had we let them do it! We explained!! But no, the contract was terminated and couldn’t be reinstated or indeed a new one drawn up, she was finished with us, that’s it, final!! So what were we to do we asked, to which she said if you’re connected use it – I don’t know!! End of conversation. So pleased to be connected, but worried about not having a contract we returned home, surfed and emailed all night, and were promptly cut off in the morning, even before we had time to email France Telecom / Orange and ask them what we should do – our chosen course of action. Unfortunately, this meant a return to the iron maiden, but you may have worked it out that it was now Friday, Bank Holiday and our visit would have to wait until the following day.

On arrival, the maiden was busy so we approached another assistant, who spoke no English and said we must wait for …… yes you’ve guessed it. Well, an element of surprise seemed a good strategy, as she hadn’t seen us come into the shop and we waited conveniently out of sight behind a pillar. However, when she came with her customers, over to the till she saw us, was obviously not pleased and in the middle of serving the other couple proceeded to start an argument with us as to how our dealings together were over. But, I had decided that I wasn’t taking no for an answer, at least not from the monkey – I was going to straight to the Organ Grinder and asked to see the boss!!

Unfortunately, the boss spoke no English so the maiden had to act as interpreter, but we were able to understand enough, for her not to try and get away with anything, and after a couple of phone calls, miraculously a new contract was a possibility, but then there would be the nine days ….. well, my expression was sufficient to get that down a little to seven days and we left, displeased but thinking there was light at the end of the tunnel, and at least this would be quicker that the other provider who would have been over three weeks getting us online!

On Thursday a phone call told us that there was no-one available for Saturday, so it would have to be possibly the following Monday and they would let us know when. Friday morning the phone ran and expecting it to be the time of the new appointment, or someone trying to sell us the internet (ironically a common occurrence!) or indeed what seems to be fairly frequent calls for Orange to ask us something, but which, due to language difficulties usually fizzled out without a conclusion!! We even had one from customer relations asking if we were happy with the service we had received – not sure if they understood the English that we used, but the line went dead! This time, someone seemed to have seen sense and were hoping that they could come today – three days early to get everything sorted, and they arrived on time, had some difficulties sorting out the signal through our exceptionally thick walls, ending up selling us, at great expense, this gismo that feeds the signal through the electricity cable, to replace the wireless dongle thingy that the previously engineer had insisted that we needed and although sold us at great expense and failed to leave a receipt – so a battle remains to get the money for the first ineffective item refunded. After an age, trying all sorts of configurations, including putting the “Live Box” and associated wired in the middle of the floor just inside the front door, to save us money, we finally settled on the gismo!!

He left, we had to return to the France Telecom to check a minor thing on our contract and caused quite a stir when we arrived, tense to say the least, until I put the maiden out of her misery and said “no problem, l’internet c’est bon!!” when there was an audible sigh of relief throughout the shop floor! There was almost that same bounce in our step as there had been all those weeks previously went we had first started the process off!! But sadly, once again the euphoria was to be short lived!! Twenty four hours came and went and no Internet phone line, that was when we discovered, quite by chance that there was a English speaking helpline and no one had bothered to tell us. Nearly a week later the phone remains unconnected, despite a promise it would be done yesterday and today the internet went down and despite hours of fiddling, Linda has only managed to get it back on then main computer, not on the laptop. We now wait, the breath hardly now bothering to be baited to see if the helpline phone tomorrow, as promised, to see if all is well!!

As I said this story could run and run and once it has run it’s course, there will be a heated email or two winging their way off to complain bitterly about the atrocious service we have received – so who knows, we’ll probably be barred again!!


Madame becomes Monsieur

Well, as I mentioned in the covering letter of the last missive, quite out of the blue, and involving no surgery whatsoever, Madame has mysteriously become Monsieur, and a fine fellow he seems to be, as despite residing most of his life in Spain, he has been back and we have met on a couple of occasions, but more of that in the next section!

Throughout our discussions and negotiations with M. Pierre, the Estate Agent, he always spoke about madam: Madame, the owner spends most of her time in Spain ... It is difficult for me to contact Madame in Spain ... We must wait to see if Madame agrees to you moving in, and when it was obvious that we would be moving in before signing anything ... You will have to meet with Madame as soon as she returns from Spain.

So imagine our surprise, when having taken procession of the keys, hired the van and returned to England, to meet Monsieur, with no sign of a Madame, as we pulled into our courtyard on our return. Read on for the full version of events!!

But, how strange, I am at times baffled by the French use of gender, or should that be sex?, and le and la etc., but certainly have no problem with sex, that is when sorting the men from the Madames!! M. Pierre is himself a strange but kindly chap, with limited English, but a very strange mistake to make as he appeared to know M. Charles the owner, when we met the following week for the signing, but more about that next time, and M. Pierre will undoubtedly feature in some future missive, although our dealings with him are now over, his job complete as he doesn’t manage the property.

Our first three or so visitors!!

Hardly had we arrived, parked the caravan and unpacked the car, taken delivery of some heating oil and it was time to sit outside in the warm early April sunshine and have our first meal at La Loge Grimouard, an alfresco lunch which we hoped would be the first of many, but also a chance to recharge batteries before picking up the hire van and collecting the white goods, before an early night and then the journey back to England to pick up the next instalment. With my mind wandering to the tight schedule of the next few days, my deep reverie was broken by the sound of a vehicle fast approaching along the road. As it reached our entrance there was a screeching of brakes and flying gravel as the van stopped abruptly and out jumped, almost before the vehicle had properly stopped, a tall well-built Frenchman wearing workmen’s overalls plentifully covered in fluorescent strips to help spot him in the dark!! With what seemed to be three enormous and rapid strides he was bearing down on me, as rudely awoken from my daydream I jumped up and met him halfway across the courtyard and clasped the proffered hand, sharing a hearty handshake and equally enthusiastic welcome, which was equally energetic when Linda joined us. This was Monsieur La Poubelle, (Dustbin) or Boneur (Dustman) to give him his proper name and he was coming bearing gifts. After an initial torrent of French and him cheerfully telling me that he spoke no English at all, the mere thought of it made him chuckle, we managed a good conversation about the various dustbins we were provided with, when each of them was collected, and where we had to put them for collection on a Monday morning, but as they leave the depot at five o’clock in the morning we might like to put them out the night before. Then, with similar wholehearted Au revoirs he was, in a cloud of dust, gone but from that day on whenever we see him, and he appears to be not only a Boneur but also the local Cantonnier (or road-labourer) we get a vigorous and genial wave.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

With a great degree of relief, I turned the large hire van into the avenue of trees leading to La Loge, a cup of tea and a rest after four days of hectic activity, including the drive from the Vendée to Gloucestershire and back. Not only something of a feat of endurance but thankful that the van springs had held up!!

Well, part way down the avenue, just after the bend that shields the end of the road from the end of our courtyard, walking towards us was a tall rather flamboyantly dressed man with a rather shabby large black dog, which he called to his side and stepped onto the verge to let us pass. I acknowledged this with a wave and received something of a puzzled frown in return and as we passed, I noticed in the mirrors that the gentleman had promptly turned around and followed the van up the avenue. By the time I had manoeuvred the van ready to unload, he was turning the corner by our garage and striding towards me.

I walked out to meet him and remembering we were back in France proffered my hand which he took and asked, still somewhat frowning if we were going to be living here and when I affirmed this, his demeanour changed dramatically and with a broad smile and an expansive gesture, he said, “Well I’m the owner, welcome home!!” There followed quite an hilarious exchange, which being very tired was almost hard to keep up with, but at least confirmed that the natives, at least those that choose to spend most of their time in Spain, were friendly.

Fortunately, Monsieur is fluent in English, and we were to learn later also German, Spanish and his native French, and because his sister has married someone from the Czech Republic, is in the process of learning Czech!! But, he keep repeating that we were most welcome – “Welcome Home and Be Happy,” liberally scattered through a conversation that covered how, almost to his regret his parents had left him this chateau, completed with various outbuildings, stable yard, chapel, two lakes, park and wood, the extent of which we still have to discover. He informed us he had lived in Spain, first the Canary Islands and now Benidorm, for 40 years and was therefore more Spanish than English, but duty insists that he must spend the odd week back at the family chateau!

The conversation was fairly one-sided as Monsieur, was obviously not only pleased to meet us but also delighted to be able to try out his English, and I was exhausted after the numerous journeys we had made over the last four days. But it covered a little about ourselves, how the water came from a well 2 kilometres away and he and his family had always drunk it with no ill effects, but he had put in a purification system just in case. Collecting my thoughts sufficiently to say that he certainly looked very well on it and perhaps he should bottle it, and the conversation turned to how it wasn’t as good as Lourdes otherwise he would bottle it and become a millionaire. We then for the first time were treated to his booming infectious laugh that started deep within and took some time to rumble out!!

Mentioning Max, we were told this was no problem and introduced to his motley companion, who we were told had been abandoned by the roadside and was obviously now his constant companion, and if he were to come sniffing around to send him back to the chateau!

He then told us that he spent most of his time in Spain, only visiting by necessity, and really after 40 years he was more Spanish than French. We then asked if the chateau was empty when he was not there and he told us it was and that he had a caretaker, Monsieur Joe, who lived in the stable block. He then, with a twinkle in his eye told us that if we saw anyone in the chateau then it would be the ghosts of his ancestors! I retorted by saying that we would be sure to invite them in for a drink, and we were once more treated to his distinctive rolling laugh, when he said that therefore they would have to invite us back!!

His obvious love of languages then came to the fore, as again he welcomed us home and said that when he was not there we were to treat the park, woods and lakes as our own, and were free to fish in the lake, although he had no idea what we would catch, and could “wander, ramble, dawdle (which he pronounced dowdle before realising his mistake), walk, stroll, meander, roam, amble or mooch!!,” at will in the woods or park. We were to find out that it seems that Monsieur likes nothing better than to go to bed with a good Thesaurus and brush up on alternatives for any word that took his fancy. I wonder if he has a whole shelf of Thesauri; English, French, German, Spanish and a shiny new Czech one!

After some time he bade us a cheery good-bye, as he guessed we must have lots to do and left, bowing out with further expansive gestures, “welcome homes” and “be happy” as he disappeared round the corner and back to rattle around the chateau, with it would appear only his ragged dog and ghostly ancestors for company!!

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The third visitor was an altogether more slippery customer. We had just had lunch sitting out on the terrace and I collected the things and started to make my way towards the front door, when I was abruptly brought to a halt and couldn’t stop a suitable expletive from passing my lips, as there heading gracefully towards the front door was a snake, not huge but even a couple of feet is big enough. Linda asked what the matter was and when I explained she disappeared inside, not to get the long handled broom that I had asked for to try a persuade the snake that it was better to go back the other way, but to get her camera, and pictures taken, in the nick of time the broom was got and the snake beat a hasty retreat, first dropping under the cave door and again having to be persuaded that this didn’t make a good home and finally disappearing, not to be seen again down a crack at the corner of the house into with the down pipe flows. It was some days before I could comfortably pass that crack and still rather gingerly open the cave door just in case it’s changed its mind!! Fortunately, it appears to have only been a grass snake, but I wasn’t taking any chances and it was still a bit of a shock to find it on the doorstep!

A couple of other notable visitors also need mention, and who knows this might become a regular feature:

One night, shortly after the visit from the snake, when in the early hours I opened the door to let Max into the garden, there sitting watching me from the doorstep was a large frog! I was tempted to kiss it and see if it turned into a beautiful princess, but it looked rather slimy and I didn’t think Linda would have been too pleased to have a stunning blond princess move in!!! Bet it would have been a different story if it had been a handsome flaxen prince!!

Then, during an idle moment just yesterday, when after lunch we were both sitting having a read before continuing the day’s labours, me with my back to the open day and Linda facing it. Suddenly, she screamed as she leapt from her chair, scarcely avoiding a collision with an extremely fast moving black object that hit the window behind her chair and fell to the window sill, collected itself got its wind back and fluttered around the room a couple of time before heading back through the open door. I’m not sure who was the most shocked the poor swallow who had mistaken the open door and the closed window beyond as a clear way through, Linda who thought that a missile had been fired at her, or me when Linda shrieked!!

Out and about

This section is in danger of pouring out so fast as to trip over itself, and become so excitedly garbled, as to become more hard to decipher than normally!! As we went out and about our new patch the wealth of flora and fauna, or plants and animals if you prefer!!, is just staggering and the list just keeps on growing. But rather than a complete run down, rather unscientifically, suffice to say the animal list stands at 10, the bird list at 13 (including the undoubted highlight of two sightings of a hoopoe), the tree list an incomplete 11 and the star of the show, the flower list has reached over 30 and still counting!

But, like the visiting grass snake and hoopoe above there are some highlights, so here goes!:

When digging the garden, I noticed a small hole in the ground and as the spade dug perilously close to it, I jumped as a scurry of activity saw a family of field mice disturbed, mum rather surprisingly leaping for the cover of the nearby hedge and leaving three small babies to fend for themselves, I’m hoping they were reunited after I left the digging in that part and moved away. Then the next day when digging not far away, a sudden movement in the soil revealed a chunky black and yellow lizard, a salamander, about 15 centimetres long, who also determinedly, but slower than the mouse sought the safety of the hedge bottom.

Just beyond the hedge at the bottom of our vegetable patch is a large pond in the corner of the field. Here a family of coypus, large rodents a bit like beavers, live and when I’m digging the garden, you can often hear them chirping to each other or see them swimming across the water ducking down to collect weed, which is what they eat. Then the other day, peering around the hedge that separates the garden from the field and pond I was just in time to see a large heron, obviously intent on catching one of the large fish that regularly can be seen jumping clear of the pond’s surface, unfurl its enormous untidy wings and almost lazily take flight and fly low over the field to the next pond and potential meal.

On another occasion, Linda and I were fruitlessly waiting out in the road for the France Telecom technician, to either arrive or at least telephone for instructions. Waiting inside is similarly fruitless, as the walls of La Loge are too thick to allow mobile telephone signals to pass through. At the same time we both saw a movement further along the tree lined avenue, as a relatively large animal came out of the undergrowth and lolloped towards us. At first it was too far away to identify it, and we thought from its gait that it might be a fox, by as it got closer, obviously totally unaware of our presence we could see it was a large hare, lazily strolling down the avenue before disappearing off once more into the undergrowth, looking very unlike the sleek champion sprinter it could be, when in full flight across an open field running scared.

Finally, the flowers – wow what a show April put on and each time we went out we discovered new delights, from enormous early purple orchids, through swathes of bright bluebells to more hidden delights such as violets and vetch. But there remains one mystery, a flower we have watched grow from an early cluster of broad almost daffodil like leaves, with a long flower stalk capped with an untidy black flower head that continued to grow, reaching four or five feet in height and opening out into a long white flower head with delicately striped petals. At first “our” avenue seemed to be the only place that they were growing, but as the flowers have come out we have realised they are more widespread, and what they are remains a mystery.

A Night in the Country


And the encounters don’t stop when night falls!!

Like something out of a sci-fi horror film, there are the relatively large wall spiders, whose bulbous bodies you rarely see, but who live in small holes or crevices and you see, at night, hanging their legs out hoping to catch an unwary and unsuspecting insect passing by!

And, by far, the loudest of our wild neighbours, in all the lakes and ponds around, are the noisiest frogs I have ever heard, they sound like lots of ducks all quacking loudly together, and are even worst at night – as the nights get warmer and we have to have the windows open they will probably keep us awake and maybe we’ll have to think seriously about eating vast quantities of that French delicacy – frog’s legs!!

There is also something, with claws, that sounds much bigger than a mouse living in our attic!! Occasionally, late at night when all is quiet and I am reading or writing, the footsteps cross the floor above me, sometimes quite quietly and at other times with a strange thump or two! The morning brings no tangible evidence of visitors, when complete with wellies (interestingly the spell checker wanted to change this to willies – also rather apt in the circumstances!!) tucked carefully into trousers I have gone, rather timidly, to investigate!! Perhaps M. Charles’ talk of ghostly ancestors wasn’t in jest and we should be going up into the attic and inviting them in for a drink – then we could get a return invite to the chateau!!

All these encounters, which continue on an almost daily basis, are largely down to the tranquil nature of our new surroundings, as commented on by the farmer who farms the fields around us and maintains the chateau gardens, when we met him recently and in a mixture of pigeon English and rather more pigeon French introduced ourselves to each other. He heartily agreed when I commented on how well I slept, but that only after having overcome the intense quiet of the place somewhere beneath the croak of the frogs, the hoot of the owl, the nightly whistling, cheeping and cackling of the bird in the tree outside our bedroom window, the crickets and the occasional farmer ploughing his field well into the early hours of the morning – who put headlights onto tractors!! Actually, little has ever kept me awake, and even more so with a plentiful supply of good, cheap wine!!

Cheque Book update!

Now where were we with the cheque book? Oh yes, the good news is we have the cheque book, but unfortunately it has the wrong address on it and we need another one, but eventually, they decided we could keep it, just in case we needed it until the new one arrived in eight days time, which is already nearly two weeks!!

We found this out when we went to pick up the cheque book and associated cards and were told by the struggling young man behind the desk, struggling I hasten to add with his gallant and at times failing attempts to converse in English, but at least he tried, that Madame, with whom we had originally made contact needed to see us, and an appointment was made for a couple of days hence – yet another visit to Fontenay-le-Comte our local town 12 miles away. He also gave us our new cards but there was some confusion as to how we were to activate them, with numbers it seemed that we had already been given, but a thorough search of welcome pack didn’t reveal. However, all was revealed at the meeting with Madame, at which she nearly took back our cheque book. The security codes had been sent to the wrong address, returned to Madame who was now giving them to us, the envelopes open, as she needed to ascertain what was inside, but the security envelope intact inside, so we could now activate our cards and in time have a second correctly printed cheque book. It was fortunate we did keep the old cheque book as we had to write our first cheque for the telecom engineer, well at least get him to write it to be sure it was correctly filled out!! Watch this space!!

Kind regards, Best Wishes and Love

Roger, Linda and Max ~ (“Who put those large white cows in the field next to my garden and don’t get personal, it’s alright for another dog to have a sniff, but a cow – really!!)

And to come next time, who knows but it may contain:
Leaving England, La Loge, Monsieur Joe, How does your garden grow? Slumdog Millionaire, and White van Sunday!