Mes chers amis
Count our Blessings! ~ Missive 25
“One of the greatest mistakes of our time is to act your age”
Billy Connelly
“One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.
“There are aristocrats and the riff-raff” (I think we fall into the former – see below!)
“Like God, I give you my blessing to stay here for ever!”
Monsieur Le Comte
Sorry, there are four quotes this time and there could be, and indeed may be below, many more, when you read on about a summer of eccentric madness, during which at least for much of the time “acting your age” was out of the question, whilst trying to maintain an aristocratic bearing, often in very difficult circumstances!!
If you haven’t twigged already, this missive isn’t going to be yet more of “How lucky we are,” but will, largely relate to a friendship made during a quite remarkable summer which went by almost too quickly in a whirl of excitement, exhilaration, jollity and merriment, with nearly our youngest visitors to date and our landlord back from Spain, although for the first week he was back we saw nothing of him and were beginning to think it was something we had said. We were relieved to find he had been busy cleaning the house and getting it ready for the summer, and what a summer it was to end up as. I recently, part way through the summer you are about to read about, came across the following passage in an article, by Alan Franks, about Ray Davies, songwriter and member of The Kinks: ‘ “I’m sorry” he (Ray Davies) says again. “I’m a lonely adult. I was a lonely child. When I’m busy I have tunnel vision. I give off signals that I don’t want to see people, but all they have to do is knock on the door. That’s what they should be doing. They think I don’t want to talk to them, but they’re wrong.” He’s right.’ It sort of struck a chord, and I’m so glad we “knocked on the door” metaphorically speaking, as to get to said door would require going through two large gates with pointed tops and crossing a water filled moat, not to mention getting past the large black dog, but there were other ways and the dog proved very useful – read on!! I also sense that although this is going to be a mega-missive, there will be lots left out; as I have said before this one man and his dog are worthy of a whole book, let alone the bulk of one chapter!
Something missing and it wasn’t the sunshine!!
The something missing in our lives was quite simply Max, he had before he died got used to having us around, but it also worked the other way, he was always there for us, although towards the end we might have had to whistle a little louder as he had gone completely deaf, but surprisingly it was selective total deafness as he didn’t hear us calling him for a stroll on a hot day, but always heard the French stick slip out of the soft material of the bread bag!!
But, by and large as the weather set fair and the sun shone we forced ourselves to continue our nightly after dinner walks, paddles in the lake and had to lick out the last bit of the yogurt cartoon ourselves, we still felt something was missing!!
In the nick of time Monsieur from the chateau, forthwith simply to be referred to as Monsieur or even M, at least for the time being (!), returned from Spain, for his normal summer in the Vendée, and initially more importantly his dog, Toutoune (note we now know the correct spelling!!) came around to renew the friendship of the previous year. She didn’t obviously seem to notice Max’s absence, or was perhaps just too polite to say anything, but I suppose the previous year they had got on fine, choosing largely to accept each other, but as Max was old and slow and Toutoune younger with much more energy on our nightly walks they rarely met each other, unless it was a there and back walk, as Toutoune liked to lead from the far distance, and Max trailed behind, until he knew we were heading for home and a comfy bed, then led just far enough ahead to make sure we went the quickest way back!!
But there was something rather comforting when sitting outside for our evening meal, silently the big black shaggy and at times quite pongy Toutoune would appear and keep guard whilst we ate, occasionally chasing things that passed on the distance road, which was much better, because she never got to them, had it been our road we might have had to explain that she wasn’t our dog, despite her sitting quite “at home” on the gravel at the front of the house! Patiently waiting for the evening stroll, and like her master adept at languages, knowing “walk” in at least English, French and Spanish, and with the most alluring eyes you have ever seen – almost out of keeping with the rest of the shaggy mutt, to the manor “born” (well adopted!) but certainly with no airs and graces! The moment we had finished and cleared the plates away she would be ready for the off and willing us to go for a walk!
Or, if the people in the gîte were more generous and slipped her the odd morsel – we, as they were, were under strict instructions not to give her titbits, but as you know
when on holiday standards slip and even with us; our missing bread dancer, the fac
t that she lodged with us a few times and those eyes made it difficult if not impossible at times!! – then having finished supper a loud whistle of two and quick as a flash there was the thunder of hooves, well pads actually, on the chateau drive and she was round the corner and raring to go! In case you’re wondering she’s a Griffon Vendéen, and from the picture you’ll see what I mean about the eyes, or “eyeses” as Monsieur refers to them – an English word he just doesn’t seem able to get his head around!! This picture is supposed to feature on M’s Christmas cards this year, but ours hasn’t arrived yet!!
Sometimes, if dinner went on a bit and the evening stroll got late, and as she now seemed to treat us like a second home, particularly after she had stayed a couple of nights when Monsieur had to go into hospital for a small op, and came back with us after the walk, rather than going home as she had done the previous summer. Knowing that Monsieur kept different hours to us, early to bed and early to rise, we were worried that if she didn’t get home she would be locked out so I started to walk her to the front chateau gate, and say “Bon nuit” to her, and reluctantly she would go home, but with never a backwards glance, she seemed to know that the time had come and that was that! Mind you as the summer wore on and I started to walk down the drive to send her home, she sensed it like a recalcitrant child would drag her heels all the way to the gate, before realising the game was up and she’d be under the hedge trotting down the drive and home to bed!!
But, she was only ever going to be temporary therapy, as when she was left with us on a few occasions, when Monsieur left she would always go looking for him, on the first occasion sitting forlornly on the steps of the chateau’s front door, until we whistled and promised a walk and used a couple of dog biscuits as a bribe. Then, when M returned the warmth of her welcome for him and the subsequent staying close to check he didn’t go off again, certainly reciprocated Monsieur’s oft to be heard “She is my partner, my wife, my daughter, my princess, my everything,” or variations on a theme. When my parents were staying my mother complimented Monsieur on his lovely dog and said that perhaps she would have to smuggle her home when she left, to which with that faraway twinkle in his eye, he said “you can have all my jewels, all my money, everything, except my Toutoune!!”
The little house at the end of the drive
Having broken the ice the previous year with a couple of tea parties, well “real English tea, made by a real Englishman” and a piece of cake; you may remember a previous story about how, after the tea he was going to go home happy, sleep soundly and get up in the morning and stand by his bed and sing “God Save the Queen!” Well, although I say it myself I do make a “damn fine cup of tea!” although never before causing a reaction quite like this. But, it did mean if nothing else our shared love of a good cup of tea in the afternoon, was an opening to use and knowing Monsieur better, and his worries about intruding, meant that now instead of asking him if he would like a cup of tea, more often than not, I would say “You’ll have a cup of tea won’t you” or “I’m just making tea I’m sure you’re ready for a cup” and I would see that glint in his eye and know that a cuppa and a chat was just what he could do with and he knew I wouldn’t take no for an answer!!
As the summer progressed, we started to see much more of Monsieur and found many interests in common. He loves nature and his garden (Over tea one day he said “Your garden is so ..... so ..... English, the English have the best gardens in the world – little did he know most of the flowers and plants are cuttings and transplants from the park and verges around!!), surfing the web, eating food and collecting quotes, each of us having a notebook to hand, where we jot down any sayings and quotes that appeal. Indeed, eventually, Monsieur decided that he and I “were like twins,” except, as I pointed out “No you live in the big house and we live in the little house at the end of the drive!” But still he pronounced that “Like God, I give you my blessing to stay here for ever!”
The only problem we really encountered during the summer was how to communicate as Monsieur is not always good at answering his telephone and can be a little forgetful. So when we made an arrangement to call at the chateau for tea, he said “Give me a trumpet call to remind me!” In the absence of a trumpet I decided that Toutoune would make a good messenger service and attached a picture of a trumpet to her collar with a reminder of the tea appointment. As with much that happened during the summer he found this hilarious, put the message in pride of place on a marble statue in the hall, where it stayed all summer and he said he was going to phone his sister and tell her all about it.
Having on numerous occasions spend many an hour putting the world to rights, tea at the chateau above went on for four hours, he announced one day that “The world is made up of Aristocrats and Riff Raff!” Politicians definitely fall into the latter, but I’m pretty certain that we’ve been elevated to the ranks of the aristrocracy!! Thought it must be something to do with us becoming Computer Technician and Official photographer to a Count, but the difference is apparently down to honesty!
Oh no! Children on the horizon, and they speak a funny language!!
In catching up with old friends from when we lived in Huntingdonshire, as it became part of Cambridgeshire, only to revert once more to Huntingdonshire – hope you’re keeping up, but that’s to show it really was a very long time ago!! – we made two new friends – Kirsten and Hannah, youngest daughter and her cousin of the aforementioned friends. Friends who we last saw regularly around the time that Victoria was born – yes that long ago, and too far back to have met Kirsten (12) and Hannah (10), and although we heard quite a lot about them, most of it true I hasten to add, I’m not sure if our little sleepy backwater was quite ready for them.
What we had got wrong about them, was their age and Linda had spent some time worrying what two 14 year old girls would find to do in these here parts, as well as us both worrying about language difficulties, after a phone call to George, Kirsten’s Dad, when after all the intervening years we had forgotten just how difficult he is to understand, particularly when he becomes animated – did I mention they’re from Scotland! So it was a bit of a shock when first two much younger girls got out of the car, and second that the intervening years simply fell away and we found ourselves picking up where we left off and able to understand our visitors – well most of the time and where spoken language was concerned; there were to be times when we didn’t understand the “girls,” as I shall refer to them as from now on, but then people say women are hard to understand!!
We had just a couple of days before had a conversation with Monsieur, who despite arguing to the contrary, is a superb master of six languages and is learning Czechoslovakian, to be able to speak with his brother in law, who appears to speak French, English and Monsieur’s language of choice – Spanish anyway!!, about how difficult it is sometimes to understand people with regional accents. He had found it difficult to understand some of his guests in the gîte despite them speaking English and his amazing command of the language. It had worried him, he said he must be out of practice despite often speaking with English friends when in Spain, until we explained it was a little like the patois that the locals slip into in many parts of France and then he felt better! But, it was noticeable that having mentioned our Scottish visitors and the trouble we might have understanding them, he kept out of the way, was it his deep seated worry about intruding or concern about the language!?!
We ended up having a riotous couple of weeks, the girls mostly managing to entertain themselves, with a bit of help(!) and I was reminded of just how untidy young girls can be; losing everything usually somewhere in the piles of assorted clothes, cosmetics, shoes, towels, sweets, presents, books, games, bedding that adorned the once tidy guest room!! They even managed to change into clean clothes just before they knocked over the drink or split the pasta sauce down their fronts!!
Then, there were the evening walks, the girls at an age where they were glad to join us, rather than whining – “Do we have to!?!” Mind you there was plenty of other whining, particularly when asked to tidy their rooms or finish the food piled onto their plates. It was good to see that they enjoyed their food, but sometimes their eyes seemed bigger than their bellies, until they were told the house rule!! “Clean plates – if you put it on your plate it means that you want it!” There were some exceptions to this rule when they were trying something new, which to their credit they did do sometimes and even occasionally found something they liked!!
But the whining reached a new level, when on one of the evening walks we went along the avenue, only to discover that when the cows had been moved earlier, they had appeared to quite simply poo all the way down the road and we had to try and avoid it as we walked along. So was born the first of several little ditties, modelled on two girls who tiptoed between the piles whilst whining “Err, we can’t walk down there” Well, they do live in town and weren’t too familiar with farm animals or indeed the proliferation of creepy crawlies that seem happy to share our living accommodation with us, even if at times the feeling isn’t mutual!! The ditty, with suitable mincing actions, went along the lines of “A one, a two a one two three. A one, a two a one two three. It’s the walk of the POOOOOOO!” Repeated several times, as loudly as possible!! I know, little things please little minds, it was a bit like being back at school, but it was just as well we live well away from civilisation and, so we thought, out of earshot!!
So I was a little surprised when several days later, having really perfected the Poo Ditty the previous evening, and our visitors had gone off to the seaside for the day, giving us a chance for some peace and quiet – we tried to explain that where we live that’s what we get most of the time, but it did give us a chance to catch up on a few chores in the house and garden, we met Monsieur checking his mail and despite his deafness he had obviously heard our singing, as he asked me if I had heard the singing beyond the woods the previous evening?! Well, I had to come clean and explain that it was our visitors, well the younger ones practicing a song I had taught them, to make the evening walk more enjoyable. I should have know that being an inquisitive sole, and enjoying a wide and at times surprising repertoire of music he was bound to ask, and ask he did in all innocence (his hearing definitely isn’t that good) what the song was about. Well, as best I could I explained (thinking that if I didn’t tell him for real, he might want to come around for a sing song!), that the cows had left their deposits along the road – saying that I believed in French slang it might have been called “merde,” to which he responded yes, but there is another word for it, but fortunately when I clarified the origins of the ditty, saw the funny side and was glad that the youngsters were enjoying their stay!!
But, the two weeks just flew by, and we couldn’t believe how quickly departure loomed, but were once again amazed at how quickly you pick up on friendships, even when for many years contact had been the occasional telephone call and cards at Christmas. It was surprisingly quiet after they left, and even after all the intervening years Mary and George, Kirsten’s Mum and Dad and Hannah’s Auntie and Uncle, were not particularly noisy!!!
Sophistication and naivety!
Monsieur, in some ways leads a privileged life – chateau in France, penthouse flat in Spain and various other properties, but although the Chateau and estate and other property has been inherited, he has had to do his military service (ending up as an aide to Charles de Gaulle) and work for a living, earning money as opportunities arose – in the distant past he was, at a time when he was a big whisky drinker, on a TV advert extolling the virtues of bottled water (the irony certainly wasn’t lost on him). But, having inherited what he has, he feels it is his duty to maintain it and improve it, as he sees fit, using his own money and very aware that when he passes it on to the next generation, when he “finally goes upstairs” it will duly be sold. But, whilst in his possession he remains very firmly principled, that despite not being a millionaire, it must be looked after out of respect for those who left it to him.
The idea of being a millionaire quite appeals to him, see Dreams and Schemes below, and having got on so well during the last summer, several times when conversations turned to the fact that it was unlikely that we would stay where we are for much longer, he would wistfully say “If I was a millionaire you could stay here for nothing for ever!!” and I would, when he was out of earshot say to Linda, what a pity he isn’t, because although we love his “little house at the end of the drive” it’s not ours and therefore we can’t do things to it that we would like – not least, with the current cold weather prompting this, fit a wood burning stove. If we were able to have one, unfortunately the chimney is condemned; there would certainly be no shortage of firewood, in “our” 12 acre back garden!!
But money aside, Monsieur is an extremely well read and informed eccentric, fluently speaking about 6 ½ languages and able to talk very knowledgeably about a very wide and diverse range of subjects, including rather to our chagrin, English history and particularly politics and the monarchy, to the point that he often looses us completely. There was however a thread immerging in his interests: The Shakespeare debate, Francis Bacon, Rose-Croix (accounting for his teetotal and vegetarian Lifestyle), Science of the Sacraments, Astrology and elements of the occult, that direct him in life and the way he lives it. All very sophisticated and at times rather heavy stuff, particularly when discussing “Life after Death” or topically for this time of year “The meaning of Christmas.” But, apart from the odd dark days when lamenting the state of the world; it’s inhumane occupants, rogues of politicians the world over, poverty, cruelly to animals etc. etc., things that he claims to think about everyday and says “It’s terrible, it’s terrible, I will thanks (sic) God when I finally go upstairs!”, he more often than not quickly regains the twinkle in his eye and quickly concurs, that really he is nothing but “A dictator, scoundrel and (always bringing up the rear!) ...... a gentleman!” One who at 70 remains quick witted, keen to learn and with plenty of energy, last year he took up kite surfing!!
However, I guess it’s something to do with the eccentricity, there remains a certain naivety that at first can be quite disconcerting. Three things stand out, the first when having admired our solar lights felt he must get some to put in the border in front of the chateau, so that it “seems like the stars had fallen from the sky and twinkled amongst the roses!” Having dutifully purchased four from the local town, several times he expressed his disappointment that they didn’t work, and blamed the fact that they were made in China and were obviously shoddy – did I mention he is very out spoken! – and would I mind having look at them as he couldn’t figure out the problem. I returned with him and Linda came “on call” for another computer problem, and on removing the top of one of the lights pointed out that the switch marked “On – Off” and set at off just might explain the fact they weren’t working. I went on to test them by putting my hand over the light sensor and the light twinkled into life and from the look on Monsieur’s face you would have thought he had seen the light!!! He did see the funny side of it however, and blamed not having his glasses on. I’m more inclined to blame the time he spends reading learnèd texts and doing astrology readings, making no time to read instruction manuals, which was certainly the case with his car radio!! He had to have a new battery and when he got the car back the radio / CD wouldn’t work, it needed the code putting back in. Panic stations and thoughts that it would have to go back to the garage to be fixed, until Linda asked if he had the manual, which he found and Linda was able to understand sufficient of it, it was in Spanish, to point out to him the short passage that explained what needed to be done! No it would have to go back, in the morning at great inconvenience to the garage; he had hoped to go to the seaside for the day! Linda ended up with the manual, translated the relevant short passage and was quickly able to reset the code on his return from the seaside, after a minor mishap, where against strict instructions he turned the engine off and had to turn it on and wait for half an hour before it would accept the code – just long enough for a calming cup of tea!
Finally, one day whilst having another cup of tea, and Toutoune sticking close to M, partly to have her ears tickled, but also to receive a fairly regular supply of titbits, the end of each biscuit or scone seems the order of the day (he once asked Linda if it was better to give her sugar or candy!?!), he asked us in all innocence – what does it mean when a dog licks you? He almost seemed surprised when we said it was a sign of affection, “Yes, I suppose it must be,” he said!
One day we told him we had had a dream, and although in many ways we never expected it “to come true” it had and we were now living in France, with time to do what we want and not to be constrained by work and deadlines. It happened to be another of the “well it was like that for me moments, making us twins once more. Yes, he said it was like that for him too and his life as he now lived in, part in France, but mostly in Spain.
This led on to another scheme, which in turn came out of one of many conversations, that started very seriously and earnestly, about the state of the world and in particular, on this occasion how many European countries were suffering from serious financial problems and were in some cases in danger of going bankrupt. In all seriousness Monsieur, with one of his worried expressions, asked me what would happen then, if a country simply ran out of money! I said that they would probably just print some more, and his response to this was “wouldn’t that be great, just to be able to print money when you needed some!”
At the time we were standing outside the front of our house, next to Monsieur’s derelict barn, which needs serious attention to avoid the roof falling in (see other schemes below!), and I suggested that perhaps that was an idea use for a counterfeiting operation, under the cover of a semi-derelict barn. He bit on the idea and as always at such times we were on a roll!! His excitement at such times is like an excited school boy, and it’s a case of “Yes let’s!!” “Why not, underneath I’m nothing but a scoundrel!” “You’re in it with me!” However, it transpired that he’s what they might call in Yorkshire “A canny scoundrel” as before I knew it I was to be in the barn, sleeves rolled up running the press and doing not only the hard work, but the illegal bit, whilst he reverted to his “gentleman” status and provided the “folding screen,” just occasionally his English lets him down, he met cover!! “Well, officer there must be some mistake, the barn is nearly falling down and hasn’t been used for many years, can’t think what’s given you the idea that it’s being used for criminal activity!!”
As he claims to be deaf and consequently speaks several decibels louder than most people, hence warning us in the barn of imminent danger and could also, no doubt, keep the conversation going for some time, along the lines of; didn’t you know my father, how is your father, didn’t I go to school with your brother, basically anything like that to buy a little time for incriminating evidence to be disguised and the operation temporarily shut down!! I couldn’t help but feel that what he wouldn’t do was to turn me in and claim no knowledge of what was going on, but rather admit it was a “fair cop,” even if then he were to drop various names into the conversation, as I’m sure he must have a cousin high up in the justice department, as well as family links with most, possibly all of the European Royal Families, or what is left of them!!
Other schemes along the way have been to; bottle and sell his personal spring water and make a million, hadn’t thought of it before but the advertising could include “As passed by the Count!”, to flood a daily current affairs programme on Spanish TV with choice political quotes and statements, which they then broadcast on a running banner along the bottom of the screen, with a view to bringing down the Spanish Government and a Roofing Party to re-roof his dilapidated barn, that he was worried was going to cost too much money to save! As the local farmer, family and friends had recently re-roofed their own barn just across the road and done a very professional looking job on it, I suggested having a party, inviting everyone on the proviso they did the roof first and then he would lay on the drinks. At this suggestion, his eyes lit up and he said: “If they mend my roof I’ll provide enough wine to fill the Seine!” I couldn’t help but think it might have been cheaper to pay a “Macon,” but this section is called “Dreams and Schemes!!”
One dream of a scheme that failed miserably, was to persuade Monsieur that there is more to cooking than omelettes and mashed potatoes, as he leads something of a frugal life in terms of food, mainly because he sees its preparation as a waste of time: “you spend ages preparing food and its gone in an instant!” Now we see eye to eye on many things, although I have told him that although he firmly believes certain things like “The great Shakespeare debate,” I will make up my own mind and when it comes to food I’m firmly with Harriet Van Horne (feted American journalist) who says “Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.” And just to make sure, I’ve made the point forcefully enough, a couple of quotes from Julia Child (celebrated chef who introduced French cuisine to the Americans!): “Always start out with a larger pot than what you think you need.” and “In France, cooking is a serious art form and a national sport.” So feeling that a Frenchman, albeit one who regards himself more as a Spaniard, should have a better attitude to food, during one of a couple of dinner parties during the summer, when Monsieur informed me that he couldn’t cook anyway, so it was silly to try, I rather unnerved him by saying “You can read, you can use your hands, you can cook!” First there was a slightly puzzled look on his face, until I explained my point, that his personal abilities made it very easy to read a recipe, manipulate the utensils to concoct a sumptuous supper, even if only for one. However, the look of puzzlement was quickly replaced by a look of sheer panic, but I wasn’t sure if it was because he was worried I was about to give him a cookery lesson, or I was expecting him to invite us to the chateau for said sumptuous supper, in the not too distant future. The look of abject horror was sufficient for me to let it drop; otherwise it might have spoilt the evening!!
Monsieur becomes Madame ~ Le coqueluche du village!
At the second dinner party, a curry evening towards the end of Monsieur’s summer stay, hatched as he informed us that he “adored” spicy food, when we told him of our love for Indian cuisine. It then came as something of a surprise as we sat down to start the meal, which included some seriously spicy dishes and he told us that he had never eaten Indian food before! Fortunately, he loved it and his healthy appetite did the spread justice, as he kept coming back for just one more little bit, but only if I would keep him company!! I ended up eating far more than I needed and out of courtesy there was no beer, or indeed alcohol, to wash it down!!
Conversation flowed about the summer and Linda’s help with his computer and my photographic endeavours of his family portraits and more, and he asked just one more photographic favour, if he put the floodlights on the chateau tomorrow evening would I take some photographs, as he had always wanted a floodlit photo. I was only too pleased to agree, as we had never seen the chateau lit up before and would therefore be a great photo opportunity, so it was fixed for 21.00 hrs the following evening, just as darkness was beginning to fall.
Talk then moved on, as always covering many subjects, some revisited such as politicians and rogues being largely one and the same, but then we got on to first impressions and how important they can be and also how when talking to someone on the telephone, you build up a mental picture of how you expect them to look. Sometimes then, the reality can be quite a shock! It was the opening I had been waiting for and grasping the bull by the horns I said “Well, actually when we first met you we had a terrible shock!” This was met by one of Monsieur’s best quizzical fronds and the question Why? I then explained that when we first saw the house and decided that we wanted to rent it, we were told by the immoblier, estate agent that he would have to check that Madame, who lived in Spain, agreed to our tenancy. So, the long and short of it was that when we first met Monsieur, we were very surprised because we had been told he was Madame!!!
He was hugely puzzled, but more importantly highly amused but this and for the rest of the evening slipped into a female persona, ending the evening by saying how much Madame had enjoyed herself, and was looking forward to seeing us the following
evening, when Madame would have a little surprise for us!! So, the following evening, punctually, at nine with camera and tripod, we presented ourselves at the chateau, somewhat surprised not to be met at the gate by Monsieur, who is a stickler for punctuality. The normally locked gate was open and as we approached the front door, loudly greeted by Toutoune, noticed the hall was in darkness but the door slightly ajar, but no sign of Monsieur. I knocked on the door, and a squeaky female voice bade us “Come in” and as we entered we noticed that the sitting room light, to the left through the library, was on and started to head that way thinking that was where the voice had come from. Here, perhaps it is worth reiterating that Monsieur lives in the chateau all alone save the dog!!
Well, a couple of steps across the hall and the same squeaky voice wished us a good evening and welcomed us, a voice altogether closer that the illuminated sitting room! Then, we saw half hidden behind the giant fern in the middle of the hallway, back lit by a small table lamp, an old lady in mop cap and white pinny, who started giggling and revealed themselves to be none other than Monsieur in drag!! From then on, for the rest of the summer, Monsieur was usually Madame, in name if not in dress! But I’ve the pictures to prove it, but that’s perhaps just a shutter click too far!!, and emails where Madame is delighted by the photographs and refers to me as the as the “Cecil Beaton of the Vendée,” praise indeed but I guess lost on anyone under a certain age!!
Once he had returned to Spain, after a short break we received an email from Monsieur about some maintenance work that was due to be carried out, and subsequently several emails have gone back and forth, and those from him are now signed “Madame, le coqueluche du village!” Coqueluche? Take your pick, as the dictionary lists the following translations: the rage, darling, favourite, reigning fancy or whooping cough!!! Somehow don’t think it’s the last one, but have settled myself on “darling!” But, I haven’t managed to bring myself to start my emails to him with “Darling!”, I’m sure in times past addressing a Count like that could have led to a “rendez-vous avec Madame Guillotine!!”
Adiós mis amigos
As I said before it had a been a summer of excitement, exhilaration, jollity and merriment, but was rapidly heading towards the end, which in many ways fortunately, more or less coincided, with our first proper trip back to the UK since our “Pet Shop Boys” and “Babysitting Experiences” back in February. It would mean that we had our trip to look forward to, at a time when we might have once again felt lonely, the population of our road plunging once more down to two, from the dizzy heights of as many as 11 if the gîte was full and of course no dogs. We don’t really have anything to do with the gîte holiday makers, but we can sometimes, when sitting out in the sunshine, hear them splashing around in the swimming pool, or screaming as it can be quite cold as it is fed directly from the spring!! I know this as Monsieur invited us to use the pool before his first visitors arrived, which coincided with Hannah and Kirsten’s visit, even they found it cold, particularly on the first day, when the farmer had just finished filling it and getting it ready and kept incredulously telling us it would be freezing as it was filled from the source and hadn’t had time for the sun to warm it up – his laughter when the hardiest, or should that be most foolish of us, finally got in, together with the look of utter amazement, would I’m sure be understandable in any language as “I told you so!!”
But back to our soon to depart new found amigos, and the irony wasn’t lost on me that one of our aims of our move was to improve our French, and I had spent quite a bit of the last few weeks conversing in emails and snatches of conversation with a French aristocrat and his dog IN SPANISH!! On the last afternoon we had invited Monsieur to a cream tea, combining his passion for food with that of “real English tea made by a real Englishman,” who had earlier in the summer had to explain, sailing quite close to the wind as I wasn’t totally sure about my answers, as to why it was preferable to serve your tea MIF – Milk in First!! That said, whatever the scientific, or otherwise, explanation – I do think it makes the cuppa taste better!
He had told us a couple of evenings previously, realising that “the end was nigh” and he was going back to Spain just after we left to go back for a visit to the UK, he and his dog would be gone when we returned, that we were the first tenants that he had had a relationship with! He lingered over the tea and scones, dragged his feet a little like Toutoune as he made his way down the drive, with us seeing him to the road as he always sees us to the gate, and still the conversation flowed, none of us wanting to finally say good bye, although the previous evening Monsieur had said that all good things come to an end and if we never saw one another again we would have many happy memories of the summer of 2010. Finally, in true gentlemanly fashion he clasped Linda’s hand in his two hands and came as close to kissing her hand as he had all summer, her hand had been getting closer at each parting!! Then, turning to me he firmly shook my hand, looked me firmly in the face and said “Thank you for everything, for the conversation, the photographs, the food ..... it has been ..... fantastic!” to which I replied “Yes, it has been great!” his response, before heading off down the drive throwing back the odd Goodbye, ¡hasta la vista!, ¡adiós! and more in Spanish, Italian, Czech and who knows what!!, was “No, not great, FANTASTIC!”
As we walked back to the house, we had to agree, but also knew that on our return from England, our little house at the end of the drive, would seem very lonely again for a while, particularly as the summer visitor season would also be over!!
But, there was one other final farewell, a final walk with Toutoune (Monsieur often calls her Manoose, he says it doesn’t mean anything it’s just sweeter!) and perhaps sensing the moment Linda said “You’re not going to get all sentimental are you?!” After all these years she can read me like a book, I’d already slipped a couple of dog chews into my pocket, as we set
off around the “block!” As we walked it turned into the most staggering sunset I have ever seen, it wrapped around all 360˚ of the sky and the colours intensified into the most remarkable finale, to a most astonishing summer, and yes the final pat, the dog chew and the “Adios mon amigo, au revoir et à beintôt,” was not without a little emotion, as she waddled down the drive of the chateau, as always without a backwards glance!
“Ici devant nous!”
I’m going to go off the theme of the natural world this time and turn instead to the supernatural world, and like many good stories there’s something of a cliff hanger in this one. On that first meeting, when Madam became Monsieur!, we talked to him about how he lived most of the year in Spain, only visiting the chateau in the summer to be able to welcome his guests to the gîte. We asked if the house was therefore empty during the rest of the year, to which he replied it was and if we saw or heard anything, it would be his long gone ancestors. Funnily enough on several occasions we have heard voices or music, when nobody has been anywhere around, remember our nearest neighbours are over a quarter of a mile or heading towards 500 meters, and when we told Monsieur this rather light heartedly, he was at first quietly surprised, until he first occasion when having a cup of tea at the front of our house he also heard the voices ...... , and on another occasion the music ......!
My original “thought!”
“This has probably gone on long enough!”
But hopefully, you’ve had at least a small flavour of our wonderful “summer relationship!” we just seemed to hit it off and I’m sure there will be more along the way.
Kind regards, Best Wishes and Love, Roger and Linda
And, next time? Maybe a report of all the festive fun, who said they don’t celebrate Christmas in France, and also we’ll have been back in the UK for a couple of weeks collecting even more stories! But, also watch out for “Frog vs Rosbeef!”
t that she lodged with us a few times and those eyes made it difficult if not impossible at times!! – then having finished supper a loud whistle of two and quick as a flash there was the thunder of hooves, well pads actually, on the chateau drive and she was round the corner and raring to go! In case you’re wondering she’s a Griffon Vendéen, and from the picture you’ll see what I mean about the eyes, or “eyeses” as Monsieur refers to them – an English word he just doesn’t seem able to get his head around!! This picture is supposed to feature on M’s Christmas cards this year, but ours hasn’t arrived yet!!Sometimes, if dinner went on a bit and the evening stroll got late, and as she now seemed to treat us like a second home, particularly after she had stayed a couple of nights when Monsieur had to go into hospital for a small op, and came back with us after the walk, rather than going home as she had done the previous summer. Knowing that Monsieur kept different hours to us, early to bed and early to rise, we were worried that if she didn’t get home she would be locked out so I started to walk her to the front chateau gate, and say “Bon nuit” to her, and reluctantly she would go home, but with never a backwards glance, she seemed to know that the time had come and that was that! Mind you as the summer wore on and I started to walk down the drive to send her home, she sensed it like a recalcitrant child would drag her heels all the way to the gate, before realising the game was up and she’d be under the hedge trotting down the drive and home to bed!!
But, she was only ever going to be temporary therapy, as when she was left with us on a few occasions, when Monsieur left she would always go looking for him, on the first occasion sitting forlornly on the steps of the chateau’s front door, until we whistled and promised a walk and used a couple of dog biscuits as a bribe. Then, when M returned the warmth of her welcome for him and the subsequent staying close to check he didn’t go off again, certainly reciprocated Monsieur’s oft to be heard “She is my partner, my wife, my daughter, my princess, my everything,” or variations on a theme. When my parents were staying my mother complimented Monsieur on his lovely dog and said that perhaps she would have to smuggle her home when she left, to which with that faraway twinkle in his eye, he said “you can have all my jewels, all my money, everything, except my Toutoune!!”
The little house at the end of the drive
Having broken the ice the previous year with a couple of tea parties, well “real English tea, made by a real Englishman” and a piece of cake; you may remember a previous story about how, after the tea he was going to go home happy, sleep soundly and get up in the morning and stand by his bed and sing “God Save the Queen!” Well, although I say it myself I do make a “damn fine cup of tea!” although never before causing a reaction quite like this. But, it did mean if nothing else our shared love of a good cup of tea in the afternoon, was an opening to use and knowing Monsieur better, and his worries about intruding, meant that now instead of asking him if he would like a cup of tea, more often than not, I would say “You’ll have a cup of tea won’t you” or “I’m just making tea I’m sure you’re ready for a cup” and I would see that glint in his eye and know that a cuppa and a chat was just what he could do with and he knew I wouldn’t take no for an answer!!
As the summer progressed, we started to see much more of Monsieur and found many interests in common. He loves nature and his garden (Over tea one day he said “Your garden is so ..... so ..... English, the English have the best gardens in the world – little did he know most of the flowers and plants are cuttings and transplants from the park and verges around!!), surfing the web, eating food and collecting quotes, each of us having a notebook to hand, where we jot down any sayings and quotes that appeal. Indeed, eventually, Monsieur decided that he and I “were like twins,” except, as I pointed out “No you live in the big house and we live in the little house at the end of the drive!” But still he pronounced that “Like God, I give you my blessing to stay here for ever!”
The only problem we really encountered during the summer was how to communicate as Monsieur is not always good at answering his telephone and can be a little forgetful. So when we made an arrangement to call at the chateau for tea, he said “Give me a trumpet call to remind me!” In the absence of a trumpet I decided that Toutoune would make a good messenger service and attached a picture of a trumpet to her collar with a reminder of the tea appointment. As with much that happened during the summer he found this hilarious, put the message in pride of place on a marble statue in the hall, where it stayed all summer and he said he was going to phone his sister and tell her all about it.
Having on numerous occasions spend many an hour putting the world to rights, tea at the chateau above went on for four hours, he announced one day that “The world is made up of Aristocrats and Riff Raff!” Politicians definitely fall into the latter, but I’m pretty certain that we’ve been elevated to the ranks of the aristrocracy!! Thought it must be something to do with us becoming Computer Technician and Official photographer to a Count, but the difference is apparently down to honesty!
Oh no! Children on the horizon, and they speak a funny language!!
In catching up with old friends from when we lived in Huntingdonshire, as it became part of Cambridgeshire, only to revert once more to Huntingdonshire – hope you’re keeping up, but that’s to show it really was a very long time ago!! – we made two new friends – Kirsten and Hannah, youngest daughter and her cousin of the aforementioned friends. Friends who we last saw regularly around the time that Victoria was born – yes that long ago, and too far back to have met Kirsten (12) and Hannah (10), and although we heard quite a lot about them, most of it true I hasten to add, I’m not sure if our little sleepy backwater was quite ready for them.
What we had got wrong about them, was their age and Linda had spent some time worrying what two 14 year old girls would find to do in these here parts, as well as us both worrying about language difficulties, after a phone call to George, Kirsten’s Dad, when after all the intervening years we had forgotten just how difficult he is to understand, particularly when he becomes animated – did I mention they’re from Scotland! So it was a bit of a shock when first two much younger girls got out of the car, and second that the intervening years simply fell away and we found ourselves picking up where we left off and able to understand our visitors – well most of the time and where spoken language was concerned; there were to be times when we didn’t understand the “girls,” as I shall refer to them as from now on, but then people say women are hard to understand!!
We had just a couple of days before had a conversation with Monsieur, who despite arguing to the contrary, is a superb master of six languages and is learning Czechoslovakian, to be able to speak with his brother in law, who appears to speak French, English and Monsieur’s language of choice – Spanish anyway!!, about how difficult it is sometimes to understand people with regional accents. He had found it difficult to understand some of his guests in the gîte despite them speaking English and his amazing command of the language. It had worried him, he said he must be out of practice despite often speaking with English friends when in Spain, until we explained it was a little like the patois that the locals slip into in many parts of France and then he felt better! But, it was noticeable that having mentioned our Scottish visitors and the trouble we might have understanding them, he kept out of the way, was it his deep seated worry about intruding or concern about the language!?!
We ended up having a riotous couple of weeks, the girls mostly managing to entertain themselves, with a bit of help(!) and I was reminded of just how untidy young girls can be; losing everything usually somewhere in the piles of assorted clothes, cosmetics, shoes, towels, sweets, presents, books, games, bedding that adorned the once tidy guest room!! They even managed to change into clean clothes just before they knocked over the drink or split the pasta sauce down their fronts!!
Then, there were the evening walks, the girls at an age where they were glad to join us, rather than whining – “Do we have to!?!” Mind you there was plenty of other whining, particularly when asked to tidy their rooms or finish the food piled onto their plates. It was good to see that they enjoyed their food, but sometimes their eyes seemed bigger than their bellies, until they were told the house rule!! “Clean plates – if you put it on your plate it means that you want it!” There were some exceptions to this rule when they were trying something new, which to their credit they did do sometimes and even occasionally found something they liked!!
But the whining reached a new level, when on one of the evening walks we went along the avenue, only to discover that when the cows had been moved earlier, they had appeared to quite simply poo all the way down the road and we had to try and avoid it as we walked along. So was born the first of several little ditties, modelled on two girls who tiptoed between the piles whilst whining “Err, we can’t walk down there” Well, they do live in town and weren’t too familiar with farm animals or indeed the proliferation of creepy crawlies that seem happy to share our living accommodation with us, even if at times the feeling isn’t mutual!! The ditty, with suitable mincing actions, went along the lines of “A one, a two a one two three. A one, a two a one two three. It’s the walk of the POOOOOOO!” Repeated several times, as loudly as possible!! I know, little things please little minds, it was a bit like being back at school, but it was just as well we live well away from civilisation and, so we thought, out of earshot!!
So I was a little surprised when several days later, having really perfected the Poo Ditty the previous evening, and our visitors had gone off to the seaside for the day, giving us a chance for some peace and quiet – we tried to explain that where we live that’s what we get most of the time, but it did give us a chance to catch up on a few chores in the house and garden, we met Monsieur checking his mail and despite his deafness he had obviously heard our singing, as he asked me if I had heard the singing beyond the woods the previous evening?! Well, I had to come clean and explain that it was our visitors, well the younger ones practicing a song I had taught them, to make the evening walk more enjoyable. I should have know that being an inquisitive sole, and enjoying a wide and at times surprising repertoire of music he was bound to ask, and ask he did in all innocence (his hearing definitely isn’t that good) what the song was about. Well, as best I could I explained (thinking that if I didn’t tell him for real, he might want to come around for a sing song!), that the cows had left their deposits along the road – saying that I believed in French slang it might have been called “merde,” to which he responded yes, but there is another word for it, but fortunately when I clarified the origins of the ditty, saw the funny side and was glad that the youngsters were enjoying their stay!!
But, the two weeks just flew by, and we couldn’t believe how quickly departure loomed, but were once again amazed at how quickly you pick up on friendships, even when for many years contact had been the occasional telephone call and cards at Christmas. It was surprisingly quiet after they left, and even after all the intervening years Mary and George, Kirsten’s Mum and Dad and Hannah’s Auntie and Uncle, were not particularly noisy!!!
Sophistication and naivety!
Monsieur, in some ways leads a privileged life – chateau in France, penthouse flat in Spain and various other properties, but although the Chateau and estate and other property has been inherited, he has had to do his military service (ending up as an aide to Charles de Gaulle) and work for a living, earning money as opportunities arose – in the distant past he was, at a time when he was a big whisky drinker, on a TV advert extolling the virtues of bottled water (the irony certainly wasn’t lost on him). But, having inherited what he has, he feels it is his duty to maintain it and improve it, as he sees fit, using his own money and very aware that when he passes it on to the next generation, when he “finally goes upstairs” it will duly be sold. But, whilst in his possession he remains very firmly principled, that despite not being a millionaire, it must be looked after out of respect for those who left it to him.
The idea of being a millionaire quite appeals to him, see Dreams and Schemes below, and having got on so well during the last summer, several times when conversations turned to the fact that it was unlikely that we would stay where we are for much longer, he would wistfully say “If I was a millionaire you could stay here for nothing for ever!!” and I would, when he was out of earshot say to Linda, what a pity he isn’t, because although we love his “little house at the end of the drive” it’s not ours and therefore we can’t do things to it that we would like – not least, with the current cold weather prompting this, fit a wood burning stove. If we were able to have one, unfortunately the chimney is condemned; there would certainly be no shortage of firewood, in “our” 12 acre back garden!!
But money aside, Monsieur is an extremely well read and informed eccentric, fluently speaking about 6 ½ languages and able to talk very knowledgeably about a very wide and diverse range of subjects, including rather to our chagrin, English history and particularly politics and the monarchy, to the point that he often looses us completely. There was however a thread immerging in his interests: The Shakespeare debate, Francis Bacon, Rose-Croix (accounting for his teetotal and vegetarian Lifestyle), Science of the Sacraments, Astrology and elements of the occult, that direct him in life and the way he lives it. All very sophisticated and at times rather heavy stuff, particularly when discussing “Life after Death” or topically for this time of year “The meaning of Christmas.” But, apart from the odd dark days when lamenting the state of the world; it’s inhumane occupants, rogues of politicians the world over, poverty, cruelly to animals etc. etc., things that he claims to think about everyday and says “It’s terrible, it’s terrible, I will thanks (sic) God when I finally go upstairs!”, he more often than not quickly regains the twinkle in his eye and quickly concurs, that really he is nothing but “A dictator, scoundrel and (always bringing up the rear!) ...... a gentleman!” One who at 70 remains quick witted, keen to learn and with plenty of energy, last year he took up kite surfing!!
However, I guess it’s something to do with the eccentricity, there remains a certain naivety that at first can be quite disconcerting. Three things stand out, the first when having admired our solar lights felt he must get some to put in the border in front of the chateau, so that it “seems like the stars had fallen from the sky and twinkled amongst the roses!” Having dutifully purchased four from the local town, several times he expressed his disappointment that they didn’t work, and blamed the fact that they were made in China and were obviously shoddy – did I mention he is very out spoken! – and would I mind having look at them as he couldn’t figure out the problem. I returned with him and Linda came “on call” for another computer problem, and on removing the top of one of the lights pointed out that the switch marked “On – Off” and set at off just might explain the fact they weren’t working. I went on to test them by putting my hand over the light sensor and the light twinkled into life and from the look on Monsieur’s face you would have thought he had seen the light!!! He did see the funny side of it however, and blamed not having his glasses on. I’m more inclined to blame the time he spends reading learnèd texts and doing astrology readings, making no time to read instruction manuals, which was certainly the case with his car radio!! He had to have a new battery and when he got the car back the radio / CD wouldn’t work, it needed the code putting back in. Panic stations and thoughts that it would have to go back to the garage to be fixed, until Linda asked if he had the manual, which he found and Linda was able to understand sufficient of it, it was in Spanish, to point out to him the short passage that explained what needed to be done! No it would have to go back, in the morning at great inconvenience to the garage; he had hoped to go to the seaside for the day! Linda ended up with the manual, translated the relevant short passage and was quickly able to reset the code on his return from the seaside, after a minor mishap, where against strict instructions he turned the engine off and had to turn it on and wait for half an hour before it would accept the code – just long enough for a calming cup of tea!
Finally, one day whilst having another cup of tea, and Toutoune sticking close to M, partly to have her ears tickled, but also to receive a fairly regular supply of titbits, the end of each biscuit or scone seems the order of the day (he once asked Linda if it was better to give her sugar or candy!?!), he asked us in all innocence – what does it mean when a dog licks you? He almost seemed surprised when we said it was a sign of affection, “Yes, I suppose it must be,” he said!
One day we told him we had had a dream, and although in many ways we never expected it “to come true” it had and we were now living in France, with time to do what we want and not to be constrained by work and deadlines. It happened to be another of the “well it was like that for me moments, making us twins once more. Yes, he said it was like that for him too and his life as he now lived in, part in France, but mostly in Spain.
This led on to another scheme, which in turn came out of one of many conversations, that started very seriously and earnestly, about the state of the world and in particular, on this occasion how many European countries were suffering from serious financial problems and were in some cases in danger of going bankrupt. In all seriousness Monsieur, with one of his worried expressions, asked me what would happen then, if a country simply ran out of money! I said that they would probably just print some more, and his response to this was “wouldn’t that be great, just to be able to print money when you needed some!”
At the time we were standing outside the front of our house, next to Monsieur’s derelict barn, which needs serious attention to avoid the roof falling in (see other schemes below!), and I suggested that perhaps that was an idea use for a counterfeiting operation, under the cover of a semi-derelict barn. He bit on the idea and as always at such times we were on a roll!! His excitement at such times is like an excited school boy, and it’s a case of “Yes let’s!!” “Why not, underneath I’m nothing but a scoundrel!” “You’re in it with me!” However, it transpired that he’s what they might call in Yorkshire “A canny scoundrel” as before I knew it I was to be in the barn, sleeves rolled up running the press and doing not only the hard work, but the illegal bit, whilst he reverted to his “gentleman” status and provided the “folding screen,” just occasionally his English lets him down, he met cover!! “Well, officer there must be some mistake, the barn is nearly falling down and hasn’t been used for many years, can’t think what’s given you the idea that it’s being used for criminal activity!!”
As he claims to be deaf and consequently speaks several decibels louder than most people, hence warning us in the barn of imminent danger and could also, no doubt, keep the conversation going for some time, along the lines of; didn’t you know my father, how is your father, didn’t I go to school with your brother, basically anything like that to buy a little time for incriminating evidence to be disguised and the operation temporarily shut down!! I couldn’t help but feel that what he wouldn’t do was to turn me in and claim no knowledge of what was going on, but rather admit it was a “fair cop,” even if then he were to drop various names into the conversation, as I’m sure he must have a cousin high up in the justice department, as well as family links with most, possibly all of the European Royal Families, or what is left of them!!
Other schemes along the way have been to; bottle and sell his personal spring water and make a million, hadn’t thought of it before but the advertising could include “As passed by the Count!”, to flood a daily current affairs programme on Spanish TV with choice political quotes and statements, which they then broadcast on a running banner along the bottom of the screen, with a view to bringing down the Spanish Government and a Roofing Party to re-roof his dilapidated barn, that he was worried was going to cost too much money to save! As the local farmer, family and friends had recently re-roofed their own barn just across the road and done a very professional looking job on it, I suggested having a party, inviting everyone on the proviso they did the roof first and then he would lay on the drinks. At this suggestion, his eyes lit up and he said: “If they mend my roof I’ll provide enough wine to fill the Seine!” I couldn’t help but think it might have been cheaper to pay a “Macon,” but this section is called “Dreams and Schemes!!”
One dream of a scheme that failed miserably, was to persuade Monsieur that there is more to cooking than omelettes and mashed potatoes, as he leads something of a frugal life in terms of food, mainly because he sees its preparation as a waste of time: “you spend ages preparing food and its gone in an instant!” Now we see eye to eye on many things, although I have told him that although he firmly believes certain things like “The great Shakespeare debate,” I will make up my own mind and when it comes to food I’m firmly with Harriet Van Horne (feted American journalist) who says “Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.” And just to make sure, I’ve made the point forcefully enough, a couple of quotes from Julia Child (celebrated chef who introduced French cuisine to the Americans!): “Always start out with a larger pot than what you think you need.” and “In France, cooking is a serious art form and a national sport.” So feeling that a Frenchman, albeit one who regards himself more as a Spaniard, should have a better attitude to food, during one of a couple of dinner parties during the summer, when Monsieur informed me that he couldn’t cook anyway, so it was silly to try, I rather unnerved him by saying “You can read, you can use your hands, you can cook!” First there was a slightly puzzled look on his face, until I explained my point, that his personal abilities made it very easy to read a recipe, manipulate the utensils to concoct a sumptuous supper, even if only for one. However, the look of puzzlement was quickly replaced by a look of sheer panic, but I wasn’t sure if it was because he was worried I was about to give him a cookery lesson, or I was expecting him to invite us to the chateau for said sumptuous supper, in the not too distant future. The look of abject horror was sufficient for me to let it drop; otherwise it might have spoilt the evening!!
Monsieur becomes Madame ~ Le coqueluche du village!
At the second dinner party, a curry evening towards the end of Monsieur’s summer stay, hatched as he informed us that he “adored” spicy food, when we told him of our love for Indian cuisine. It then came as something of a surprise as we sat down to start the meal, which included some seriously spicy dishes and he told us that he had never eaten Indian food before! Fortunately, he loved it and his healthy appetite did the spread justice, as he kept coming back for just one more little bit, but only if I would keep him company!! I ended up eating far more than I needed and out of courtesy there was no beer, or indeed alcohol, to wash it down!!
Conversation flowed about the summer and Linda’s help with his computer and my photographic endeavours of his family portraits and more, and he asked just one more photographic favour, if he put the floodlights on the chateau tomorrow evening would I take some photographs, as he had always wanted a floodlit photo. I was only too pleased to agree, as we had never seen the chateau lit up before and would therefore be a great photo opportunity, so it was fixed for 21.00 hrs the following evening, just as darkness was beginning to fall.
Talk then moved on, as always covering many subjects, some revisited such as politicians and rogues being largely one and the same, but then we got on to first impressions and how important they can be and also how when talking to someone on the telephone, you build up a mental picture of how you expect them to look. Sometimes then, the reality can be quite a shock! It was the opening I had been waiting for and grasping the bull by the horns I said “Well, actually when we first met you we had a terrible shock!” This was met by one of Monsieur’s best quizzical fronds and the question Why? I then explained that when we first saw the house and decided that we wanted to rent it, we were told by the immoblier, estate agent that he would have to check that Madame, who lived in Spain, agreed to our tenancy. So, the long and short of it was that when we first met Monsieur, we were very surprised because we had been told he was Madame!!!
He was hugely puzzled, but more importantly highly amused but this and for the rest of the evening slipped into a female persona, ending the evening by saying how much Madame had enjoyed herself, and was looking forward to seeing us the following
evening, when Madame would have a little surprise for us!! So, the following evening, punctually, at nine with camera and tripod, we presented ourselves at the chateau, somewhat surprised not to be met at the gate by Monsieur, who is a stickler for punctuality. The normally locked gate was open and as we approached the front door, loudly greeted by Toutoune, noticed the hall was in darkness but the door slightly ajar, but no sign of Monsieur. I knocked on the door, and a squeaky female voice bade us “Come in” and as we entered we noticed that the sitting room light, to the left through the library, was on and started to head that way thinking that was where the voice had come from. Here, perhaps it is worth reiterating that Monsieur lives in the chateau all alone save the dog!!
Well, a couple of steps across the hall and the same squeaky voice wished us a good evening and welcomed us, a voice altogether closer that the illuminated sitting room! Then, we saw half hidden behind the giant fern in the middle of the hallway, back lit by a small table lamp, an old lady in mop cap and white pinny, who started giggling and revealed themselves to be none other than Monsieur in drag!! From then on, for the rest of the summer, Monsieur was usually Madame, in name if not in dress! But I’ve the pictures to prove it, but that’s perhaps just a shutter click too far!!, and emails where Madame is delighted by the photographs and refers to me as the as the “Cecil Beaton of the Vendée,” praise indeed but I guess lost on anyone under a certain age!!
Once he had returned to Spain, after a short break we received an email from Monsieur about some maintenance work that was due to be carried out, and subsequently several emails have gone back and forth, and those from him are now signed “Madame, le coqueluche du village!” Coqueluche? Take your pick, as the dictionary lists the following translations: the rage, darling, favourite, reigning fancy or whooping cough!!! Somehow don’t think it’s the last one, but have settled myself on “darling!” But, I haven’t managed to bring myself to start my emails to him with “Darling!”, I’m sure in times past addressing a Count like that could have led to a “rendez-vous avec Madame Guillotine!!”
Adiós mis amigos
As I said before it had a been a summer of excitement, exhilaration, jollity and merriment, but was rapidly heading towards the end, which in many ways fortunately, more or less coincided, with our first proper trip back to the UK since our “Pet Shop Boys” and “Babysitting Experiences” back in February. It would mean that we had our trip to look forward to, at a time when we might have once again felt lonely, the population of our road plunging once more down to two, from the dizzy heights of as many as 11 if the gîte was full and of course no dogs. We don’t really have anything to do with the gîte holiday makers, but we can sometimes, when sitting out in the sunshine, hear them splashing around in the swimming pool, or screaming as it can be quite cold as it is fed directly from the spring!! I know this as Monsieur invited us to use the pool before his first visitors arrived, which coincided with Hannah and Kirsten’s visit, even they found it cold, particularly on the first day, when the farmer had just finished filling it and getting it ready and kept incredulously telling us it would be freezing as it was filled from the source and hadn’t had time for the sun to warm it up – his laughter when the hardiest, or should that be most foolish of us, finally got in, together with the look of utter amazement, would I’m sure be understandable in any language as “I told you so!!”
But back to our soon to depart new found amigos, and the irony wasn’t lost on me that one of our aims of our move was to improve our French, and I had spent quite a bit of the last few weeks conversing in emails and snatches of conversation with a French aristocrat and his dog IN SPANISH!! On the last afternoon we had invited Monsieur to a cream tea, combining his passion for food with that of “real English tea made by a real Englishman,” who had earlier in the summer had to explain, sailing quite close to the wind as I wasn’t totally sure about my answers, as to why it was preferable to serve your tea MIF – Milk in First!! That said, whatever the scientific, or otherwise, explanation – I do think it makes the cuppa taste better!
He had told us a couple of evenings previously, realising that “the end was nigh” and he was going back to Spain just after we left to go back for a visit to the UK, he and his dog would be gone when we returned, that we were the first tenants that he had had a relationship with! He lingered over the tea and scones, dragged his feet a little like Toutoune as he made his way down the drive, with us seeing him to the road as he always sees us to the gate, and still the conversation flowed, none of us wanting to finally say good bye, although the previous evening Monsieur had said that all good things come to an end and if we never saw one another again we would have many happy memories of the summer of 2010. Finally, in true gentlemanly fashion he clasped Linda’s hand in his two hands and came as close to kissing her hand as he had all summer, her hand had been getting closer at each parting!! Then, turning to me he firmly shook my hand, looked me firmly in the face and said “Thank you for everything, for the conversation, the photographs, the food ..... it has been ..... fantastic!” to which I replied “Yes, it has been great!” his response, before heading off down the drive throwing back the odd Goodbye, ¡hasta la vista!, ¡adiós! and more in Spanish, Italian, Czech and who knows what!!, was “No, not great, FANTASTIC!”
As we walked back to the house, we had to agree, but also knew that on our return from England, our little house at the end of the drive, would seem very lonely again for a while, particularly as the summer visitor season would also be over!!
But, there was one other final farewell, a final walk with Toutoune (Monsieur often calls her Manoose, he says it doesn’t mean anything it’s just sweeter!) and perhaps sensing the moment Linda said “You’re not going to get all sentimental are you?!” After all these years she can read me like a book, I’d already slipped a couple of dog chews into my pocket, as we set
off around the “block!” As we walked it turned into the most staggering sunset I have ever seen, it wrapped around all 360˚ of the sky and the colours intensified into the most remarkable finale, to a most astonishing summer, and yes the final pat, the dog chew and the “Adios mon amigo, au revoir et à beintôt,” was not without a little emotion, as she waddled down the drive of the chateau, as always without a backwards glance!“Ici devant nous!”
I’m going to go off the theme of the natural world this time and turn instead to the supernatural world, and like many good stories there’s something of a cliff hanger in this one. On that first meeting, when Madam became Monsieur!, we talked to him about how he lived most of the year in Spain, only visiting the chateau in the summer to be able to welcome his guests to the gîte. We asked if the house was therefore empty during the rest of the year, to which he replied it was and if we saw or heard anything, it would be his long gone ancestors. Funnily enough on several occasions we have heard voices or music, when nobody has been anywhere around, remember our nearest neighbours are over a quarter of a mile or heading towards 500 meters, and when we told Monsieur this rather light heartedly, he was at first quietly surprised, until he first occasion when having a cup of tea at the front of our house he also heard the voices ...... , and on another occasion the music ......!
My original “thought!”
“This has probably gone on long enough!”
But hopefully, you’ve had at least a small flavour of our wonderful “summer relationship!” we just seemed to hit it off and I’m sure there will be more along the way.
Kind regards, Best Wishes and Love, Roger and Linda
And, next time? Maybe a report of all the festive fun, who said they don’t celebrate Christmas in France, and also we’ll have been back in the UK for a couple of weeks collecting even more stories! But, also watch out for “Frog vs Rosbeef!”
