Inside France - Peter Horrocks Blog

Life, travel, PR and things to see and do in France

[peter-horrocks]

Rouen insolite

As her distinctive blue eyes testify my French wife is from Normandy, more precisely a small village on a loop of the River Seine around 20 km south of Rouen, just over halfway between Paris and the seaport of Le Havre, almost exactly where the main character of one of France’s most influential literary works lived her scandalous life. 

Site archéologique de la Côte Sainte-Catherine

Gustave Flaubert’s masterpiece Madame Bovary popped up on my personal compilation “must read in French” book list recently and by pure coincidence, we decided to organize an impromptu trip to catch up with family in Normandy just a week after I finished reading the novel. It added a whole new dimension to our visit, and I learned a new French expression from my wife’s nephew who we stayed with, which corresponds 100% with what I love about living in France and blogging about, “La France insolite” meaning “unusual France”.

My copy of Madame Bovary purchased from a brilliant second-hand bookshop in the centre of Grasse

Born in Rouen in 1821 Gustave Flaubert shocked the establishment when his first novel Madame Bovary was published, to such an extent that the government brought a subsequently unsuccessful legal action on a charge of immorality against both himself and his publisher. It is hardly “edgy” by today's standards but the fact that his main character was a woman who cheated on her husband, a provincial doctor, was unheard of hitherto. It was fine for blokes to blatantly have mistresses in those days, but it was another matter altogether for a respectable lady. Madame Bovary mostly pretended to have piano lessons when she was actually holed up with her young Notary student lover in a hotel room in Rouen where she traveled on the postal horse and carriage service “le Hirondelle”. Back then the book was considered absolutely outrageous and at the same time it had a very warm reception from the critics and was an immediate bestseller. 

My wife’s nephew Vincent who loves a bit of history was quick to pick up on my comment that I’d read the book recently and how it had struck me that his house was located in practically the setting of the imaginary village where Madame Bovary lived with the unsuspecting doctor. He’d never read the book, almost to his embarrassment, but he knew all about Flauvert and the Rouen connection and with gusto, he set about showing us his version of “Rouen insolite” as we’d done the main sights on previous visits, he was keen to show us another side of the famous city.

Madame Bovary extract translation - “the next day she embarks on the swallow to go to Rouen” - (p.385).

First up was the overview of the city from the heights of the south bank of the Seine which is punctuated with bright white limestone cliffs into one of which was embedded a very picturesque church above which we gained a superb panorama of the vast valley looking all the way back to his village with the big loops of the river gliding down to Rouen, exactly the route of the Hirondelle.

Church built into the beautiful limestone cliff

Closer to the city we walked up to another crest to the “site archéologique de la Côte Sainte-Catherine” which dates back to Roman times. The 360-degree views of the city and valley inspired Monet to paint the scene and I could visualize the area of the city where Madame Bovary had “her hotel room”.

All that walking up hills had worked up an appetite and we were hungry by the time we finally got a table outside at Chez Pépé et Fils restaurant (excellent Pizzas and pasta!) in the old part of the city within spitting distance of the “Musée Flaubert et d'Histoire de la médecine” which is in the house where Flaubert was born. As we waited for our lunch to arrive Vincent beckoned me to follow him a hundred yards or so up the street to a hotel where he showed me this sign:  

Emma Bovary has never taken a piano lesson here either

Which is the successor to this one which he texted to me later from the exact hotel where she stayed: 

Here Emma Bovary never took a piano lesson

The afternoon was spent following the small river tributary which runs through the centre towards the outskirts on the “Promenade du Robec”. Unexpectedly this tiny river which is barely three or four metres wide powered Rouen’s industrial textile mills, some of which have been preserved for posterity. It was a very pleasant, unusual walk. 

Moulin de la Pannevert

All that left us thirsty, and Vincent had one last “unknown” card up his sleeve, the “Église Saint-Nicaise de Rouen”, home of the Ragnar brewery and outdoor bar. It’s the “new place in Rouen rive droite” or as Vincent said “Ze place to be”. 

Ragnar beer made by proud Normans

The old church which was half destroyed by a Nazi air raid and rebuilt with “matching” style concrete has been de-consecrated and converted into a brewery (not yet open inside) with an outside courtyard, a strong Viking theme (that’s where the Normans blue eyes come from) and very decent beer. We enjoyed a pint in the Valhalla courtyard and had to admit Vincent’s “Rouen insolite” day was a success, worth writing about. 

Travel notes: We took the fast train with Ouigo (SNCF low cost) from Aix-en-Provence to Paris Gare de Lyon, the metro line 14 to gare Saint Lazare, then the Nomad SNCF train to Oissel (which is just after Giverny where Monet lived). It was a first for us as we try to dial in to Eco friendly travel, we really enjoyed the journey with just a small cabin size suitcase each, good value too. We pre-booked our car into the cheapish long stay parking number 13 at Aix gare TGV, that was worth doing.  

All the best.

Peter H

[peter-horrocks]

Inside France review of 2021

This has been a year of enhanced reflection, long walks and relative inactivity as work has ground slowly to an end with full retirement imminent, a certain relief on a personal level having finally received my 10-year Brexit residency card, and a fair dose of anxiety over the future for my children and the world overall as we know it, and like last year very little travel.

“We must reverse our thinking: it is not because we are gifted that we can practice meditation, but because we are ordinary human beings, with our difficulties and our qualities, our aspirations and our fears.”

Fabrice Midal (my translation from the French original)

My best photo of 2021 was taken on my regular evening walk out from our place in Grasse along the Valley Vert, the dense low clouds compressed the rays of the setting sun, its not as crisp as it should be but it captured the moment. 

I’ve decided to take far fewer photos now that I understand the energy required to store them digitally, so I’m going for few, exceptional moments rather than quantity.

Covid has been an ongoing live subject, but it has felt a lot less scary since being fully vaccinated, knowing that the chances of severe Covid are much reduced though we have continued to be mindful of possible passive transmission and have tried to play our part as good citizens mainly by staying away from obvious contamination places and leading a quieter, less exciting life.

Additional regulations and charges post-Brexit have taken their toll on the 2CV renovation business that I was involved with and I have reluctantly had to conclude that this will be the last year of operation apart from bits and bobs. Whilst retirement is the next step I am wondering how best to spend my time other than finishing the DIY in our flat. I’ve no clear ideas as yet and continue to mull things over and explore the possibilities.

Meditation

I’ve really got into meditation much more this year as I’ve had more time. The home meditation book by Fabrice Midal is how I learned (it is in French) and practice here in our flat. I meditate about three times a week, after breakfast (which is at dawn during the winter) before starting anything particular, for fifteen minutes. Just adopting a sitting posture and allowing thoughts to come and go without judging them. It’s been a revelation over time as it has helped me understand better how my mind is functioning and affecting my emotions in particular. It is not at all about relaxation or escapism, actually, it's more about waking up to what’s going on and engaging with real-life rather than escaping it. I have been surprised, as I never saw myself as one who would appreciate meditation.

One of the most pleasurable things has been playing football in the evenings again up at St Cezaire. It was hard not playing both when I was ill a couple of years ago and when the Covid restrictions hit last year. It doesn’t get any easier as age takes its toll so I savor every game and really enjoy it, I actually think it keeps me going rather well as just getting ready each week for the physicality of it takes some doing.

Cycling safely

Cycling in the mountains is my other major pleasure, its always a challenge and I always feel great at the end of around 30 kms of big climb up and huge fast descent. I’ve refrained from converting to a recognized road cyclist which is typical in France, sticking to my faithful mountain bike with its good grip tyres, full suspension and disc brakes and I keep my feet nice and free (no clips) so I can be ready quickly for all eventualities and also, importantly I avoid traffic and narrow roads as much as possible. I’ve managed to stay free of knocks and accidents unlike my contemporaries with all their road bike gear, who are fairly regular hospital cases. And above all I don’t give a damn about how long it takes, the pleasure is just doing it, being high up in the magnificent mountains looking down to the sea far below and admiring the beautiful vegetation and scenery, my clothes drenched in sweat are evidence enough of the effort involved. And door to door is all peddle power, no loading the car to visit pastures new, just enjoying the seasons passing and finding enough variety in my immediate vicinity, there is something satisfying in that, just being content with what’s around me.

Travelling less

We’ve flown once this year up to Strasbourg using up a paid for flight which got cancelled previously due to Covid and we’ve decided not to use any more internal flights and to restrict ourselves to a maximum of one overseas flight a year whilst limiting also our travel by car to a reasonable degree. It feels like an obvious small step to try and help limit damage to the planet through climate change. For some years now I’ve always opted to walk say to get the bread rather than take the easy option and jump in the car, that has been an obvious one for me and the side effect is I’m probably fitter as a result.

Limiting travel is quite a volte face for someone like me who was actually in the travel business and flying and travelling frequently for my work coupled with the fact that my kids who I adore and miss as they do me, are in the UK whilst I live in France. Mentally its difficult, as travelling a lot and seeing family in the flesh is so nice to do, but its more satisfying to be making a conscious decision to voluntarily help preserve the planet now I’m more aware of how climate change works without having to be told to do so and in a way because I don’t expect those in charge to be bold enough to do what it takes quickly enough. It might be pissing in the wind but I don’t care, I prefer to try and at my age it’s not so difficult to do.

In my lifetime I have seen tourism explode around the world, whole economies lurch towards reliance on a business which is apparently unsustainable whilst robotization and the digital age are happening so fast obvious confusion reigns and the reluctance to give things up is understandably difficult and it goes right against the way we naturally function.

I feel very fortunate to be alive on this planet and I am not comfortable with the idea of just continuing to travel and have “fun” while the glaciers melt and forest fires rage, even if it’s not happening at the moment on my doorstep. I’ve no intention of adopting a frugal existence but there is plenty to enjoy in life without ruining the planet.

I guess I’ll have to think about adjusting the title of my blog.

All the best.

Peter H

[peter-horrocks]

The glacial ice cave at Les Deux Alpes

After another hot summer in the south of France (sorry for those of you who experienced the opposite, I know how you feel I come from Manchester, UK) I was beginning to seriously wilt so it was with some relief that we headed off for ten days in the high French Alps.

The entrance to the ice cave at Les Deux Alpes is just beyond the people along the track

After last year's very successful trip to Les Menuires I doubted that we could repeat similar enjoyment this time round as at some stage it is bound to rain in the mountains and there has been plenty of that in many parts of France this year. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

We spent the first three days at La Foux d’Allos which is just two and a half hours drive north of Grasse where we live. Earlier in the year, we had spent a pleasant week there, just the two of us. This time we met up with my French wife’s sister and husband who had brought two of their grandchildren along with them, all the way from Normandy. They had a trying fifteen-hour journey down spent mainly in traffic jams ending with a rather terrifying last section over the Col d’Allos where the narrow road and huge vertical drops tested their nerves to the limit, though the kids marveled at the scenery. Regular skiers it was the first time they had holidayed in the high mountains in summer.

It was interesting to observe the reaction of the children who are aged seven and nine, the youngest is an absolute live-wire and the elder somewhat reserved and a bit of a bookworm, as La Foux d’Allos is a low-key sort of place and the main attraction is mother nature. Our first days walk directly from the apartment where they stayed (which is owned by a friend of ours, we stayed there previously) was up the valley to the source of the river Verdon which goes on to carve out the Gorge which is one of the most spectacular and visited in France. Up by the source there was hardly anyone, yet the scenery is magnificent and it gets better and better the higher you walk, and we got up high, to 2200 metres. Everyone loved it and the numerous marmots (a sort of groundhog) and circling birds of prey kept us entertained. I was delighted to rediscover the rock with a partial imprint of a giant ammonite fossil which I discovered last time, just off the beaten path.

Lac d’Allos

The following day, early in the morning (to be sure we got one of the limited parking spaces) we drove up to the Lac d’Allos which is the biggest, highest freshwater lake in Europe. A wonderful place for pleasant walking at high altitudes and a superb spot for a picnic in the fresh mountain air. Even after a couple of days of long walks, the kids were still keen to walk out in the evening so they could sit and watch the marmots gamble around grazing as the sun set, it was they who were pestering us adults to go.

Marmot

We took our leave and headed further north another four and a half hours drive to the Oisans valley and the famous ski resort Les Deux Alpes where we stayed in a superb recently built wooden chalet on the edge of the village with the luxurious feature of a hot tub on the big balcony which commanded stunning views of the valley, mountains, and glaciers. 

This time we were with my wife’s five grandchildren aged from three to twelve and their parents, like last year. It is amazing how relatively inexpensive such a high-quality chalet is even in peak season. There is demand and there are people who take holidays in the high mountains but its nothing compared to the millions who prefer to pack on to hot crowded beaches and pay through the nose for exorbitant coastal accommodation.

There is still a buzz around Les Deux Alpes in summer as the ski set is replaced by mountain bikers. This activity has exploded with the development of electric bikes which has opened up the sport to less fit people of all ages. And in the resort, there are lifts running to take bikes and riders up very high and dedicated graded tracks to ride down. There are specialized shops for hiring the bikes and all the necessary protective equipment too. All-day long there were hundreds of people setting off nice and fresh or returning covered in a respectable amount of mud, nearly all smiling, chatting, and enjoying themselves.

There were many bars and restaurants open and it was our first experience of presenting our Passe Sanitaire (obtained after our double vaccination jabs), which were duly scanned by the waiter’s mobile phone system when we paid our bill, all very relaxed, easy, and reassuring. None of the bars or restaurants were particularly busy but the atmosphere was pretty cool all the same, out on the terraces in the fresh air overlooking the magnificent mountains, it was nice after so much time at home recently, avoiding people.

The children enjoyed walks around the valley and their treats were the dry toboggan run and the ingenious non-motorized carts which were adapted to be dragged up the mountainside by the Poma lift leaving gravity to provide the speed on the downhill with braking being the drivers main preoccupation. All good fun. An unexpected bonus was the de-stocking of the equipment shops in the resort at the end of August with loads of high-quality gear being sold at half price, we picked up some incredible bargains including walking boots and ski jackets. 

Just inside the glacier surrounded by raw ice

The highlight of our stay was a visit to the ice cave at 3400 metres up on the high glacier. I had wanted to visit one since I discovered more about them during my time working in Chamonix where I had the privilege of skiing down the Valley Blanche, but never got round to visiting the ice cave in the Bosson Glacier. I’ve always been fascinated by glaciers, especially the fact that such a huge quantity of ice is constantly on the move, typically 25 cm a day. And my imagination was enhanced by the tale my brother told me of when he discovered the frozen body of a Japanese mountaineer on one of his expeditions up Mount Kilimanjaro from the Kenyan side, the glacier finally gave up its prisoner after 15 years of entrapment, and they were able to reunite the preserved remains of the unfortunate man with his family at last.

The ice cave is hacked out by hand

It costs 25 euros for the lift pass and entry to the ice cave at Les Deux Alpes. A ride up two very long gondola ski lifts then on the highest funicular railway in the world which actually goes through the rock under the glacier via a tunnel, is easily worth the money. We were accompanied by Mathieu and his twin boys aged seven, one of whom has difficulty walking, all of us were well kitted out with puffer jackets and walking boots, which we appreciated as we had to walk a couple of hundred metres across the snow to get to the ice cave entrance and there was a bitter chill wind blowing up there. 

The ice sculptures in the cave included this octopus

Inside the ice cave, I was surprised at how long it was, there were vivid explanations of how it is hacked out by hand and there are parts with fabulous ice sculptures of things like sea horses and fish which are beautifully smooth and nicely lit for maximum effect, which had the children enthralled. Clearly not one for the claustrophobic, it did not disappoint as an experience. 

The views from the suspended platform were spectacular

And once outside we walked a few hundred metres more in the snow to a suspended viewing platform with awesome views of the surrounding mountains and as we made our way back to the lift we saw the white peak of Mont Blanc the highest mountain in Europe which loomed above all else. 

The passes are valid all day and Mathieu immediately insisted that his wife Caroline accompany him back up to the ice cave as he didn’t want her to miss out, his interpretation of how she would feel was correct, she didn’t want to come back down, she loved it so much up there on top of the world. None of us wanted to leave Les Deux Alpes at the end of our stay either.

At the tourist office in Les Deux Alpes, we learned that in August this year the glacier was closed for summer skiing for the first time ever due to the effects of global warming. I can but hope we are not too late to react and modify our way of living in time to both avert pending climate-related disasters and save the magnificent mysterious glaciers all over the world.

[peter-horrocks]

Inside France review of 2020

People around the world will be thinking that 2020 has been the most testing and unpredictable of years in our lifetime. Yet despite the turmoil, for some it was a good year, though undoubtedly tinged with a sense of sadness, bewilderment as to how insensitive and selfish many humans can be and admiration for how amazing many people are too. On a personal front this was a good year in many ways, though my perspective is not your average as the previous year I was fighting a battle with cancer and practically anything is better than that.

“Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present.” Albert Camus

My best photo of 2020 taken on a bike ride up the Gorge du Loup near Grasse

The obvious dominant subject of 2020 was Covid 19 and I have great empathy for those adversely affected and directly involved. The virus popped up out of no-where and its impact has been incessant ever since. When I first became aware of it I asked my physiotherapist what she thought and if her son who was working in Tokyo was concerned. “Oh Corona, comme la bierre, boff!!” was her flippant reply. And I think that is where most people were at.

I’ve read a number of good books about the plague and how it spread, including Ken Follet’s brilliant World Without End and more recently I enjoyed the French classic La Peste by Albert Camus, French version. Transmission is key and human habits are why it spreads and our inability to adapt and accept change are our shortcomings, poor governance adds frustration. Thank goodness there are also those we acclaim as heroes too. It is so difficult battling an unseen entity which affects some badly but not others and which adapts too, as we all know now.

Home made mask

The media feeds on it and frankly, if I had a euro for every time I’ve seen a cotton bud thrust up someone’s nose on the news (what is news about that!!!) my pockets would be bulging, and of course now its needles in the arm time. Everyone’s become an expert or they’ve chosen to be ostrich’s and stuck their head firmly in the sand, and you can’t blame them really. The tension is palpable when it comes to masks in places where they are obligatory, I can’t help feeling angry when I see people not wearing them or with their noses poking out, as they often seem to have that smug look about them, like they are sooo independent-minded. It frustrates me to feel judgemental but its that wilful selfish thing that makes me angry, that sullen unwillingness to be part of the collective, as if we could survive regardless as an island, though obviously, we wouldn’t last a minute.

We’ve all been finding our way of coping and for some, it is much more difficult than others. At first, it was almost amusing to find oneself running from the back end of the apartment to the front balcony and back, repeat, for an hour in an effort to keep fit during tight confinement. We exchanged improvised mask ideas; I had a ski snood with a coffee filter stuffed down it! Initially, we were told the masks didn’t really work. The truth was they didn’t have enough of them and even worse here in France they had recently binned the reserve stock, so they were trying to hide their embarrassment. In fairness, that apart, the French government seem to have handled managing the virus relatively well so far though now there are vaccination issues aggravated by a vaccine sceptic population and slow bureaucracy.

There was something marvellous about discovering how well you could keep connected with friends and loved ones through WhatsApp video in particular. I hadn’t felt so connected to my elder brother living in South Africa ever. But when he died of a heart attack out walking in the hills with his friends over there the reality hit hard. A big delay in getting him back to the UK, a bigger delay for his wife to follow on and no opportunity to share in the grieving in the direct company of my family. There were seven of us brothers and sisters and I am by far the youngest, it is sad, strange and destabilising being down to six.

Additional anxiety was for my younger daughter who is a recently qualified doctor as is the man in her life. Both were having a small break before taking up their proper postings in the summer. They were enjoying hiking in the wilds of Scotland and a holiday with family in Asia and looking forward to more carefree travel after so many years of medical studies. They both bravely and unselfishly volunteered to work in one of the worst Covid affected hospitals in the UK. Heavily involved with the thankless task of informing families of their loss by video conference and in the testing of the recently approved Oxford vaccine, they were literally in the thick of it. Within two weeks of starting as volunteers, they both caught the virus, thankfully not badly and after an isolation period, they were straight back onto the wards. They have both taken up their proper posts now, in London, as the third wave comes crashing through. Understandably they are tired and don’t want to talk about it, it is very difficult, especially for them.

My elder daughter got caught up in things too. She was on a humanitarian posting in Nepal when the outbreak struck and only got out on the last plane to leave Kathmandu for the UK. Having a day off she had gone hang gliding in the morning, a first for her, an amazing thrill, she had just sent me photographs showing her flying, of stupendous views of the local lake and the Annapurna mountain range. Only to return and be told she had to pack and leave immediately. The next photo was of a night-time, deserted, frightening-looking Kathmandu where she managed to find one of the last hotels still open, a rough one. To say I was relieved when she got home and met up at the airport with her sister who similarly got the last plane out of Shri Lanka is an understatement. Thankfully, she managed to see out the first wave and much of the summer with the family of her friend who owns a nice property in the countryside near the sea, well away from it all.

Kathmandu in lockdown taken by my daughter

My anxiety and personal need were a desire to help them. Being stuck here in France and relatively at risk myself my options were limited. My main concern was for their mental health as my guess was that Covid was likely to affect everybodies. Shortly after my cancer treatment, my French wife’s sister gave me a couple of books by a French author, meditation master and philosopher Fabrice Midal. One was an introduction to meditation for westerners, non-religious and based on attention, more of an awakening and relevant to actually living life actively, not at all mind closing and definitely not relaxation. I found it very wise and tried the meditation in addition to my gentle yoga which is for my relaxation when I’m not out for a walk, playing football or cycling up a mountain. I still meditate and have found it fascinating, paying attention to the functioning of the most important thing of all, the one we nearly all neglect, the brain. Its no cure for anything but I found it a good exercise and felt it may help my girls.

Meditation book by Fabrice Midal, in french.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t exist in English. So I contacted the author and asked if he would mind me translating it, explaining that I thought it would help my daughters. To my surprise, he promptly replied and agreed saying he could probably then use it to publish it online. So, I set about translating it and explained what I was doing to my daughters and the eldest volunteered to proofread. Its nearly done and I can say that my eldest daughter found it very helpful and the youngest has at least read some of it. I had never translated a whole book before and I found it an interesting experience especially as a philosopher weighs his words and each one counts. Fabrice Midal appears regularly on French television as he is one of the country’s leading philosophers and authors. I have read a fair bit of Greek philosophy and have always had some interest in the subject as I find it helps make sense of life, up to now I was not aware of any contemporary philosophers worth reading. I have found him to be a real ray of light, someone I can relate to and admire and learn from. I think he deserves to be read more throughout the world; he is a man of the moment in my opinion. I never thought I’d see the day when I would sit on a meditation cushion, I don’t buy into the way most of it is practised at all, but I’m glad to have found one that suits me and I’m very glad to have been able to help my daughters if only in a small way.

Brexit end game After an anxious wait it's done and dusted, well nearly. I have made my permanent residency application, which was relatively simple and not too onerous, and I have a holding number and a statement that my rights in France continue as before. The only problem is a final processing delay of at least three months so still waiting to cross the t’s and dot the i’s when the administration is ready.

The mood in France Given the circumstances its not too bad and whist the government has its detractors they are less visible due to the various constraints at the moment and the more pressing business of dealing with the Covid crisis. There is moaning when things are obviously wrong but there does seem to be reactivity too as well as a good degree of solidarity, responsibility and helpfulness.

Best cultural moments Well, there haven’t been any as everything is shut and even when a few things like cinemas were open there was nothing much good on and certainly nothing worth risking being indoors with other people.

First day on the beach at Fréjus after lockdown number one

Best experience Stepping back out onto the football pitch in Saint Cezaire-Sur-Siagne was enormous for me. During my cancer treatment, I never thought I would be able to play football again. It’s a very simple thing kicking a ball around with fellow human beings, but I’ve always loved it to bits. Also in between lockdowns we managed to get down to the beach at Fréjus a couple of times in the morning when there were few people around and it was a real tonic to be able to enjoy the sea and sun, it was equally uplifting to be able to ride up into the mountains on my bike occassionally though hard getting the muscles going again each time.

Looking down towards the Gorge du Loup

Precious family moments The top was a visit from my elder daughter who managed to stay with us for a couple of weeks before getting back to the UK on the last flight before the second lockdown. A huge pickup, I enjoyed catching up with her work teaching online and coaching and being able to be there for her as well as visiting some nice places outdoors, especially the observatory at Caussols. 

And we also managed a lovely stay in a chalet in the high French Alps at Les Menuires in August along with my French wife’s daughters, son in law and five grandchildren, the sun shone on the verdant valley by day and the stars lit up our evening walks up the mountain, it was quite magical and great fun, I felt privileged to be part of it.

Selling my Dordogne property

I’ve finally given up on the idea that I might do something with my property in the Dordogne one day, so I’m selling it. It is composed of a beautiful big barn which I had re-roofed and opened some window openings at the start of a conversion (which I had planning for, now lapsed, but easy to re-new). Also a ruined small farmhouse. There is electricity and water but no drains (I did get permission for a septic tank but we never got round to installing it). Both are set on 1 hectare of land, mainly secluded, just one neighbour masked by trees and bushes on my side. 3km from the village of Montagrier near Périgueux. Price is 120,000 euros. If you know anyone who might be interested please let me know.

Classic 2cv It has been very enjoyable working with Classic 2cv again this year. We have brought lots of rusting old parts back to life and supplied enthusiasts far and wide with the means to keep their charming old French cars on the road. I have learned a lot and continue to grow in experience on the classic car front. Oddly its thrived during lockdowns as folk have channelled their time and energy into restoration of their cars.

So, as we head into the new year after a year like no other, the future looks uncertain, climate change and a biodiversity crisis are looming large in addition to the Covid virus. It feels important to survive, work, make the most of things, care about loved ones and to try and help.

Best wishes

Peter H

[peter-horrocks]

The otherworldly plateau de Calern near Grasse

There was one place I really wanted to take my daughter to when she came over to visit this time, just before lockdown number two, and that’s the plateau de Calern in Caussols. So, when she announced that she had some unexpected free time on the day before the restrictions started I jumped at the chance to zip up there with her in the car. I’m more aware now that I need to reign in my enthusiasm for some of the oddball things that I find exciting but there is a warm glow pleasure when I do get to share one and its appreciated.

“Where there is an observatory and a telescope, we expect that any eyes will see new worlds at once. “

- Henry David Thoreau

The Schmidt telescope

I had never been to the Calern plateau as the sun was setting before and I have to say it was extra special as the long rays of Autumn light played with the strange shapes of the clouds and transformed the colours of the mountains and the Caussols valley and the sea beyond into a quite surreal landscape. It really felt like we were somewhere else, on another planet.

Which is a connection because other planets are the preoccupation of the working occupants of the Plateau de Calern, indeed the majority of installations present were built for the purpose of finding out more about them. There can be few places on earth which at 1270 metres altitude have such a strange array of buildings and objects. It is like a scientific playground, made incongruous by the fact that you can see the Mediterranean bay of Cannes down below.

We had recently visited with our French grand children and their parents on a warm day back in the summer for a picnic and kite flying. The atmosphere was different then, we were hugging the shade and tourists were being shown around by guides. Yet when Caroline let slip that she used to come up here to meditate and contemplate when she was in the middle of a life crisis having gone through the trauma of giving birth to twins who were three months premature, it occurred to me, that yes, this is a special place where one could feel totally detached from the real world. Its not just the scenery but the somewhat nerdy scientific nature of the place and an obvious connection with outer space.

The Calern plateau and the southern Alps beyond

NETFLIX obviously felt the same as they made a film called IO based mostly on the Calern plateau. It’s entertaining, especially if you have visited and experienced the atmosphere of the plateau in person. Here is a clip of the trailor:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FafYfZO0ctI

I had suggested to my local friend George that maybe we should cycle up to the plateau one night and gaze at the stars and perhaps see some of the instruments in action. He quickly squashed the idea when he alerted me to the danger of the dogs which guard the sheep in the area. Their primary role is to protect the herd from wolves. You do need to be careful not to approach them when walking in the mountains by day as they are very big dogs, rather like outsized golden retrievers, apparently at night they can be extremely dangerous. They are actually remarkably interesting as they are introduced to the herd as a puppy at which point, they are accepted or rejected by the lead sheep. Once accepted they live with the herd and grow up as a kind of adopted sheep and then become ultra-protective of the flock. These beautiful sheep dogs are known as Le Patou. Here’s a clip of Le Patou in action:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H5dvvUfLJTY

Actually, in normal times there is an open night invitation for the public to visit the plateau observatories, usually around the 6th of July, every two years, and as many as 7,000 people have been known to turn up. As well as being guided around lucky ones get a chance to operate some of the instruments. Apparently as well as seeing the stars you can often hear wolves howling in the distance.

The Observatoire de la Cote d’Azur (OCA) which operates on four sites, Mont Gros, Valrose, Sophia Antipolis and the Plateau de Calern observatory, has an interesting web site for more information.

https://www.oca.eu/en/

And the Caussols webite is also useful for guided visit information.

http://www.caussols.fr/fr/les-activites/visites/observatoire-de-la-cote-d-azur

Interféromètre de Calern

Most of the scientific buildings and instruments on the plateau are for geological measuring and observing of the stars. Such as Le Tarot (a fast acting telescope for transitional objects) though some like the Schmidt telescope which was very advanced in its day are no longer operational. The strange Interféromètre de Calern building with its twin telescopes looks more like a Barbapapa house and there are numerous others. A particularly fascinating one is the MeO Laser station instrument which works in conjunction with reflectors placed on the moon by NASA and its function is to measure the distance of the moon by bouncing laser beams off them. It performs the same role for some earth-orbiting satellites which are equipped with similar reflectors. The moon distance measurement is fascinating as the moon's proximity is linked to tidal movements which vary in a rugby ball shaking sort of way and apparently the moon is moving gradually further from the earth at a rate of 4 cm a year with implications for tides of the future.

The MeO Laser station

On a more down to earth note there is a beautiful limestone crag running along the crest of the summit facing the sea and its quite fun to watch folk flying their noiseless long winged model aeroplanes off it, as it is an official site for “aero modalism”. There are numerous well-marked walks on the plateau for good hikes and its worth keeping an eye out for fossils as there are many to be found in surrounding rocks.

There are numerous places to visit in our area which deserve precedence but I was delighted to be able to finally share this one with my wonderful daughter who took some fabulous photos which I’ve been able to use here.

All the best

Peter H.

[peter-horrocks]

En vadrouille in Alsace

Getting out and about and switching off from everything that is going on in the world is a pleasure which I personally savour more than ever after the physical restriction and weird subtle mental stress of the confinement days. Though it was actually watching an interview on French television with the legendary actor Pierre Richard during the two months stuck in our flat that I came across the real meaning of the wonderful French expression “en vadrouille” it is getting out and about. When asked what he enjoyed doing most in life Richard’s response was that he loved doing just that, especially on foot from his doorstep. I’ve been adopting that method recently combined with an enhanced desire to appreciate small things and on our recent visit to Alsace visiting family it came up trumps.

“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy. “ Dale Carnegie

The old six bucket well in Obernai center.

We have been up to the charming small town of Obernai in Alsace a number of times now and like you do we visited the local classic’s, the idyllic Christmas markets, the magnificent city of Strasbourg and my personal favourite Colmar. Ferreted around in the shops filled with amusing Alsacien memorabilia which are like permanent Christmas and spent pleasant moments trying out the local specialities in tea shops, bars and restaurants where we indulged in bretzels, streusel and sauerkraut as well as excellent beer and wine and much more.

But I wanted to get away from all that and as my French wife was occupied with her family I set out “en vadrouille”. From the kitchen window of Caroline’s house, I could see a huge white cross set on a hill in the distance, that would be my first point of call. So, on a fine morning, I crossed town on foot having donned my obligatory mask then headed up the hill on the other side free of the need to protect and be protected and got away from people in general.

The Mont National is a 320-metre-high limestone hill which extends for 3 km and dominates the town of Obernai. The towering white cross on the summit is a war memorial dedicated to local men who lost their lives during the great war having been forcefully enlisted into the German army, an unusual twist which I subsequently came across a number of times in the area. From the hilltop, one can clearly make out the historic old town of Obernai, the fields and surrounding villages on the plane as well as the Voges mountain range to the south-west, and on the eastern edge of town the huge Kronenbourg, Carlsburg factory which produces a third of the beer consumed in France and in the distance beyond the long line of the hills of the Black Forest in Germany.

Grape pickers in the vines above Obernais

The Mont itself is covered in vineyards and it was grape picking time, which was nostalgic for me having done a couple of seasons in the Bordelais in my youth. I knew a bit about Alsace wine and the local vigneron had gone to the trouble of putting up signs explaining the types grown on the Mont and which food they complimented most. It was a perfect way to casually enhance my wine knowledge whilst basking in the morning sun, admiring the beautiful pristine vines and watching the grape pickers harvesting in some rows whilst the grape picking machine was deployed in others.

Grape picking machine on Mont National, Obernai

That really took me back to the day when the very first of these high tractors equipped with beating sticks and a system to suck up the grapes made its appearance in a vineyard near us when I was grape picking. It was a revolution back then and few of the vineyards were prepared for its use, we were quite awestruck by it and aware that huge change was there in front of us. The long-established vendange system was of local farmers helping each other, complemented by annual travelling gipsy groups from Spain and foreign students like me. The modern machine is obviously much more efficient but I preferred the manual days of secateurs, the comradery and the hard work picking entailed, we laughed a lot and the gentle chug of the collecting tractor and trailer with its big open wooden casks was the only noise, unlike the present-day machine which sounds like an aggressive oversized hoover.

Grapes ripe for picking

As I walked around the hill on part of what is known as the “route des vins” I enjoyed observing the different grape types and the leaves already gradually changing to their beautiful Autumn colours of golden yellow, soft purple, pink and light green. 

Autumn colours of the vine leaves

Then descending downhill back towards town I was struck by the similarity of the high church tower in Obernai with its distinct four decorative statue holders and that of the one in the village beyond in the direction of the Voges. I decided that would be my next out and about project.

The spire of the church in Obernai centre like the one in the nearby village

Back at the house, I worked out that it was only a kilometre and a half to the village of Bernardswiller and I asked Matt if there was anything to see there. He said, “you know what, we’ve never been”. Which I think is often the case when you live somewhere and are so busy going about life and doing what you have to do then trying to do fairly exceptional things when you have some precious spare time. We were exactly the same with a young family living in fascinating Oxford, it was our visitors who discovered what was under our noses, not us.

Next day was another fine day and Eliane came with me this time. It was a flat easy ten minutes’ walk to Bernardswiller and as we entered the village we heard the loud hum of bees coming from behind a high wall and saw a small sign by the gate “Miel” with a telephone number. On the way back we rang and encountered a charming Alsacien couple who took us into their garden which was huge, with an abundant vegetable garden, orchard and beehives. We bought some delicious organic honey for half the price one normally pays in the supermarket and took it back for Caroline, Matt and the kids to dig into for afternoon tea.

The village was very quiet, typical, like stepping back in time, with lots of large archways with big wooden doors and a stone family crest above and a smaller insert door leading to courtyards and other buildings beyond, very pretty. I noticed another small sign for a beer microbrewery and resolved to knock on their door next time we visit. There were no shops and the old bar was closed, there were two small wine “caves” in full vendange swing, then there was this gigantic church with its soaring tower, quite out of proportion to the village, a reflection apparently of the regional dominance of the church and the riches generated by the surrounding vines in the old days. The village was very pleasant and beyond we walked through more gorgeous vineyards lined with occasional walnut, apple and pear trees. We picked up some nuts and fruit lying on the ground as we understood from Caroline that it was perfectly acceptable behaviour and considered a local perk.

Saint Odile convent on the hilltop beyond the vineyards

We wandered along the country lanes and tracks to Saint Nabor, the next village, which was at the foot of the Voges and Mont Saint Odile. I had half a mind to walk up through the forest to the Convent on the top which is a tourist attraction but settled instead for just locating the start of the steep track, I was enjoying the “vadrouille” too much.

The next day I resolved to find the Weibel wine cave which sold the wines made from the grapes grown on the Schenkenburg domaine up on the Mont National. I thought it would be in the centre of Obernai as I had seen some rather posh wine selling establishments in passing but it turns out it was in a leafy lane just a few hundred yards from Caroline’s house, suburbia had engulfed it. It was my sort of place, rustic, family-run, with a lovely old lady who helped us taste the wine and explained everything whilst her rugged handsome son directed operations for the grapes to be pressed, and I couldn’t help noticing you could still see the huge white cross up on the hill. 

Loading the grapes into the press

I had a lovely time chatting about the old days with our hostess though not wanting to take up too much of her time as she was also in the process of preparing lunch for the grape pickers and I remembered very well how important that was after a typical six in the morning start.

Some of the wine on sale in the Weibel domaine shop

You can find the Weibel Marcel and Fils wines on www.vins-weibel.com and I can recommend the Gewurztraminer (which can only be grown in particular conditions, namely on south-facing limestone hills like the Mont National), and the Pinot Gris is pretty good too.  

Incidentally, Le Grand Vadrouille is a classic French comedy film which is shown over and over on television in France, it’s fun and stars the amazing Louis de Funes.

I quite liked my Petit version.

All the best

Peter H.

[peter-horrocks]

Cool holiday in the mountains

It was with a degree of pessimism that we set off for our family holiday get together in the high French Alps at the beginning of August. Mainly because I was only used to ski resorts in the winter and because here in the southern alps its quite hot and there are no end of beasties wanting to bite you, which is OK for a days walk but staying a week is another matter. And we had a load of young kids with us. What on earth were they going to do in a ski resort in the summer, it would be dead wouldn’t it?

“Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, For I would ride with you upon the wind, Run on the top of the dishevelled tide, And dance upon the mountains like a flame.”

William Butler Yeats, The Land of Heart's Desire

Snow on the tops in Val Thorens

Like many we had already endured our fair share of rescheduled flights and cancellations with money lost or placed on credit and being the wrong side of 60 we had lost the appetite for flying as the risks no longer seem sensible. But being stuck in France has its advantages, it is a country with so much to offer, there is such variety, the choice is huge. The only obvious thing is that this summer was no time to be crammed with the masses as the risk of getting contaminated with Covid was glaringly obvious and if we could escape the extreme July/August heat that would be even better.

So when my wife’s elder daughter announced that she had an option to reserve a chalet in Les Menuires, a ski resort at 1850 metres altitude in the Three Valleys, at a very reasonable price, on three floors with easily enough room for ten of us, we felt there was little to loose even if it got cancelled as it was within reasonable driving distance for everyone.

I struggled to get excited as I had been to Les Menuires with work many years ago and my memories were of a rather ugly purpose-built resort with “motorway” skiing. I’d also spent a few weeks in the high Alps chalet hunting in Spring, cold and wet were the main memories retained. The chances of rain in the high Alps is always a distinct possibility. I set about researching what was open in the resort and soon realized that with the Covid restrictions things like indoor swimming pools and cinemas were all closed. All I could latch on to was an outdoor basketball pitch. So, I bought basketballs adapted in size for very small and average size children and a couple of kites in a desperate attempt at offering at least some sort of outdoor diversion for the young.

It was really hot when we set off early from Grasse up the route Napoleon and it got hotter as the day progressed. Being away from the main motorways on one of the busiest days of the summer was ideal as even the service areas near Grenoble were not too busy so we felt safe from Covid crowds. It is frequently surprisingly hot in the low French alpine valleys in summer and the air conditioning in the car was doing overtime with temperatures close to 40 degrees centigrade. So we were elated to watch the thermostat drop progressively as we started the climb uphill from Moutiers for the last half an hour of the journey to Les Menuires. When it hit 26º we cut the air conditioning and cheered, when it hit 20º we opened the car windows and releveled in the sensation of the breeze in our hair. The drive up was lovely, the mountains verdant, much more beautiful than I expected. 

When we arrived in Les Menuires it bore little resemblance to the soulless resort I remembered. There was a very modern rather smart church tower with a clarion belfry and a kind of trendy, with-it feel about the place. Sunny and with wonderful fresh air though it was still shorts and t shirts weather, and there were plenty of people around, it was far from dead, but not too busy either. Cool! From my days looking after the websites and holiday sales for the ski programs for various companies in the past I had always been disappointed to see empty chalets and apartments at “give-away” prices from May to October, when they were full at “daylight robbery” prices during the winter. Whilst on the coast people were paying through the nose to be crammed on beaches like sardines burning red raw despite lashings of Ambre Solaire. Strange how it took an epidemic to literally drive some family holidaymakers to the high mountains who would never normally have gone there, including us. 

My wife’s daughters, a husband and the five children aged from one to eleven were already there when we arrived. The twin boys were laughing as they peddled their hired go-karts and the two elder kids were in the queue for the outdoor trampolines with catapult elastics, whilst the adults were sat on the outdoor terrace of a cafe enjoying a drink looking out on the mountains, everyone looked happy to be there. And they were. 

We quickly realized Les Menuires was a hive of pleasant outdoor activity, with something for everyone. You could hire all sorts of electric bikes, scooters, 4-wheel drive vehicles and the gondola lifts were running to take you up to the tops if you wished. Morning and evening outdoor fitness classes with suitable high-tempo music blasting out was another surprising though rather fun to watch option. There was an outdoor archery range, paintball, mountain bike tracks and infinite walks for all grades and even an impressive toboggan track on rails which had the kids begging for more. 

In the mornings we strolled down the hillside from our chalet’s hamlet and enjoyed relaxed games of five-a-side football and basketball mixing with holiday makers kids and parents from Paris and Lyon. Then we joined up with the ladies and the smaller children for picnics by the crystal-clear river which was cold but not enough to deter the children from getting stuck in building dams and playing around in the water. All in a suberb setting with lovely walks by the river, where pretty, ancient farm buildings were set beautifully in the heart of the high valley surrounded by stunning summits topped by snow up at Val Thorens. Clear blue skies and warm sunshine, it was perfect.  

The kids having fun making dams in the river

Back in the chalet in the evenings the kids hoovered up “l’apéro” crisps and drinks whilst the adults kicked back with a glass of wine, the music came on and everyone ended up dancing around even the smallest who only recently took to standing was grooving with the rhythm. I assisted my son in law cooking up a “tartiflette” using local mountain potatoes and Reblochon cheese from the in-resort “fromagerie” and that set the standard for a week of delicious mountain cuisine. The spa at the hamlet opened its sauna and hot tub for small group reservations which allowed the parents some relaxing downtime whist we looked after the youngsters who spent hours playing hide and seek in the chalet. The week flew by.

I took the time one evening to walk up high and sit quietly, watching the small video clip taken by my sister that same day, in Wales, of the scattering of the ashes of my elder brother who died naturally in South Africa recently. Covid circumstances prevented me from attending what was already an improvised occasion. 

My brother Martin loved to hike in the high mountains, and he fancied himself as a bit of a poet so it felt fitting to reflect on his passing amidst the tranquility and majesty of the Three Valleys as the sun went down. I was grateful to be there.

We all left Les Menuires in good spirits and feeling positive despite these troubled times. It would be a shame for the high mountains to become over popular, but it was great to see them appreciated other than just for walking.

Best wishes

Peter H.

[peter-horrocks]

Inside France review of 2019

This is my one and only article for this year and as I write I am struggling to know what to say, a reflection no doubt of how I feel, a bit lost for words. My blog is for offering interesting uplifting insights into life in France and unfortunately, I haven’t experienced any recently and I vowed at the outset not to write articles just for the sake of it. But an end of year summary seems important all the same.

“Suffering rises up those souls that are truly great; it is only small souls that are made mean-spirited by it.”

Alexandra David-Néel

This year has been all about survival and I’m not sure how much of it I wish to share. Those who know my French wife have been aware of her difficulties from last year and that was our major concern this year too, making the likes of Brexit seem trivial. All our focus was on getting her fixed and there was no hint of what I was about to experience, though maybe the two were connected.

In May I discovered that I had a life-threatening condition which required urgent treatment of a very heavy and difficult nature, to the extent that I was unable to eat normally, totally lost my sense of taste and required a food pump directly into my stomach. I will spare you any more details. In November I learned that I had made a complete recovery thanks to the local French medical system and staff who were absolutely brilliant and to whom I am eternally grateful.

If there is anything, I would like to pass on from my experience it is the importance of leading a longstanding relatively healthy lifestyle, not drinking too much alcohol and above all not smoking. My full recovery was linked one hundred per cent to these factors. If I hadn’t adhered to them, according to my specialist doctor, I probably wouldn’t be writing this.

As good fortune would have it my French wife has also recovered from her plight though as much due to her determination and tenacity as anything else. Demonstrating that with enough desire a solution can be found to even the most obscure medical conditions. After over a year of medicinal treatment and being told there was nothing more to be done she went and found a specialist who eventually operated and removed a two-centimetre nodule which was compressing her nerve and rendering life near impossible. A minor miracle which she richly deserved.

We are no spring chickens but hopefully, we still have plenty of good active years ahead of us, though we have both had serious shots across the bows, which if anything has made me appreciate life all the more.

Brexit rumbles on

Some clarity has finally emerged on the Brexit front and I can’t help thinking that despite all the rather cringeworthy parliamentary goings-on the outcome is much clearer and a more informed reflection of what the citizens of the UK really want at least in the near future. The last vote was very convincing, and Brexit now seems totally appropriate.

From a personal point of view, it will involve applying for residency which I propose to do at the end of January when the Brexit formalities should be complete. I’m very wary of bureaucracy and the potential for setbacks but feel that if everything is concluded on a reasonably amicable basis then I should be able to continue my life here in France.

This is the link to the official residency application for anyone needing it.

The mood in France Well, it's still not great, to be honest as many people’s lives are currently plagued by striking rail workers and lingering yellow vest protesters. One can but hope that things will calm down once the pension reforms are agreed and finalised but as in the UK, it will probably take an election for things to settle as people now know better what they will be voting for. It makes for quite a cocktail when a new political party suddenly takes power as happened with En Marche.

Best cultural moments There have been no new cultural moments for us as we have been so restricted by health issues, but we have taken great pleasure in seeing our family enjoy the riches of the area during their visits. My youngest daughter and her partner loved their stay in Nice and discovering the perfumeries of Grasse and the Rose festival and my brother and his wife also stayed in Nice and mastered the tram and rail system so expertly and they were pleasantly surprised at what a marvellous modern art museum the city has.

The importance of taste When I was ill losing my sense of taste was a real shock. It never occurred to me quite how important it is. It affects life from the moment we get up, starting with the taste of toothpaste and goes on throughout the day until toothpaste time again before bed. I enjoy food, for me, it is one of the great pleasures of life, but when you can’t taste it or when it actually turns into a revolting taste an everyday thing which we take for granted becomes a trial.

Best experience There is no contest here. For some time, I had in my mind the idea that it would be something special to be still playing fairly competitive football when I reached the age of 60. I guess it was my dad who inspired the thought as I always thought it remarkable that he was still playing tennis at the age of 80. So, when I scored a header with my first touch of the ball after a lay off of over six months on the day of my 60th birthday under the floodlights at Saint Cezaire I was made up like you can’t imagine. None of my teammates had any idea I had only just recovered from life-threatening illness as it wasn’t something I particularly wanted to share. It was a sweet sweet moment for which I am very grateful.

Precious family moments After nearly two years of being unable to travel it was a special thing when we got on the plane to Strasbourg just before Christmas to spend a week with family and see the latest addition take her first tentative crawling steps. For lifting the spirits and getting in the Christmas mood there are few places which can compare with Alsace, it's absolutely magic. On our return just time to catch our breath before a drive over to Salon-en-Provence where we followed the donkey and the Christmas procession through town at midnight and shared present opening moments with the grandchildren there who are growing up quickly.

Best of all it is my eldest daughter who is now enjoying a real adventure on a humanitarian month in Nepal assisting teaching English at temperatures of -17º to be followed by a week or so in Tibet following in the footsteps of one of the first real feminists and adventurers Alexandre David Néel who’s house in Digne near here where she wrote her books is now a museum. It is a joy to know that my daughter managed to get a copy of her book My Journey to Lhasa from the travelling library at a village in south Wales and laughed out loud at the audacious exploits of a truly remarkable human being.

Best wishes.

Peter H.

[peter-horrocks]

Inside France - Peter Horrocks Blog turned 4 today!

[peter-horrocks]

Inside France review of 2018

I was aware that this year would be one of the most difficult and I had presumed that the main reason would be Brixit as the almost inevitable happened and we still don’t know what the outcome will be. But there was no hint of the health problem which was to strike my French wife in June, bringing our lives to an abrupt slowdown and as you can see from my blog there has been nothing worth writing about since.

“Our greatest happiness does not depend on the condition of life in which chance has placed us, but is always the result of a good conscience, good health, occupation, and freedom in all just pursuits.”

- Thomas Jefferson

Moi savouring a day out in Cannes

Before June I had never even heard of the pudendal nerve, but I have now and seen first-hand the devastating effect it has on everyday life if it malfunctions and I wouldn’t wish a problem with it on anyone. I’m not going to bang on about medical conditions and the French health services as it’s a very personal thing, I’m just hoping that the small chink of light at the end of the tunnel which we are holding on to does not dissipate as the others have so far. Staying optimistic is vital in the battle for good health and that’s what we are focussing on right now.

The Brexit end-game

It has been a roller coaster ride watching the Brexit negotiations unravel. One minute it looks as though things have been decided the next its in turmoil again. Having been involved in contract negotiations for much of my life I can appreciate the difficulties of getting what you want. A position of strength obviously helps, and everyone has their own view on how strong a card they have to play. It isn’t so easy to be hopeful about the outcome at the moment. Time will tell and I think there is only one short-term approach - DON’T PANIC!

Discovering the world of old 2CV parts people

This is taken from an April 1951 edition of Revue Technique Automobile

I have been doing quite a bit more work for Classic 2CV this year, they are based near Oxford and run by a good old friend of mine. Occasionally this has involved me driving to people’s homes to pick up parts and I have really enjoyed these encounters as they have been so interesting. The first one was with a lady who had just inherited the family property in Forcalquier in Provence. An old farmhouse and barn on the edge of a beautiful typical village. She was delightful, and her occupation was the restoration of stained-glass windows such as those in churches, something she had retrained to do at the age of forty-five. The barn was a treasure trove of old stuff as her grand-père was obviously a hoarder and there was plenty of room in there for old bicycles, cars, engines and all sorts of machinery. She had already sold the old 1950’s 2CV but there were plenty of spare parts left for me to take.

Another was up at Beauvoir-sur-Mer in the Vendee which is a lovely seaside village connected to the island of Noirmoutier by a causeway, something I knew about having recently watched a television documentary on the amazing race which is run between the island and mainland each year as the tide is coming in. Top class runners from all over the world compete in what must be one of the most gruelling runs imaginable as they are actually in the water.

My contact was Florence a bright young lady who was helping her father clear the garage of old boxes of 2CV parts which once belonged to her grandfather. I had a brilliant time chatting to her father about the origins of the parts. His dad like himself was the village baker and grand-père had a 2CV van emblazoned with BOULANGERIE on the sides for delivering bread to local clients. As was the way of things back then he had boxes of spare parts so that he could either do immediate repairs or swap the parts with fellow 2CV owners for the ones he needed. The van remained part of the family business until it was sold recently along with the shop as Florence didn’t want to be a baker and her father had reached retirement age. 

Meanwhile, my French wife was having a lovely chat with Florence’s mum who was an artist and an author. They were such nice people and we were quite staggered when they invited us to return and stay with them anytime as they would love to show us their village and area. Rare generosity and warm human beings. Kind of in tune with what the 2CV represents these days as I have found other parts contacts to be surprisingly friendly too and I find they appreciate that we are helping to rescue and conserve a part of French history.

Ski chalet success I’ve been working hard on the ski chalet and apartment side of things for Villas du Monde for about five years now and it is finally starting to pay off. A salutary reminder that hard work and perseverance is worthwhile. I love skiing and I have always enjoyed seeing others take to the sport and that was one of the things driving me on. It helps to be passionate about what you do. When I was asked if we should bother with the skiing this year, I didn’t hesitate in saying yes, knowing it meant a heap of rather tedious work for me to do. Then to hear “c’est TOP le success du ski cette année” recently was music to my ears. Even after all these years I still get a kick out of making things happen against the odds.

Best cultural moments I managed to book tickets for the opera in the Roman arena in Orange again this summer. Whilst saddened that my wife’s condition meant she couldn’t come it was a treat to be able to share the moment with my daughter who came over from the UK especially for the occasion. She had worked for the Welsh National Opera as a fundraiser and there she saw many great performances, so she is something of a connoisseur. The Barber of Seville as presented by Les Chorégies d’Orange on a very warm July evening was fantastic, she wasn’t disappointed. On the way home, we diverted to the famous wine village of Châteauneuf-du-Pape where by chance it was the mediaeval day, that was the icing on the cake. The Regatta in Cannes is the other big memory as it was the last thing we managed to get out and do as a couple before being stuck at home, a stunningly beautiful day with wonderful old sailing ships filling the bay.

The regatta in Cannes

Best experience Often, I find it is the simple things in life which are the best. It is not very often that I venture down to the sea despite being only twenty minutes’ drive, but when I do, I like to do some snorkelling. I love the feeling of being in a warm sea with no threat of something wanting to take a bite out of me and being detached from the world in a kind of bubble. Diving down and seeing how long I can hold my breath whilst admiring the seabed, the flora and fauna is a strangely pleasurable experience. The last time I went I came across a full-size octopus almost immediately, it was as if he was waiting for me. I’ve become quite good at spotting them now, but I just couldn’t miss this one only a few metres out in around two metres depth of water. He spotted me and glided away towards a pile of red stones, his body changing colour to blue like the sea as he did so then to a deep red when reached his final resting spot, blending with the iron composite stones of the Esterel mountain range. He nestled in among the rocks and proceeded to pick up pebbles with his tentacles until he was entirely covered except for one eye watching me. I left him in peace and to my surprise found another just ten minutes later. There were quite a few people on the beach and in the water and yet just beyond this lovely underwater world was going about its business.

The mood in France this year is a strange one after the early goodwill to the new President and the amazing success of the French football team winning the World Cup coupled with relatively few attacks. Then the yellow vest protests rose up very quickly and in no time there was a whiff of revolution in the air which thankfully seems to have calmed now after some sensible compromises by the government and an element of protester fatigue. The reasons behind it are numerous and they are no doubt shared by people in many countries around the world as folk struggle to come to terms with life, its inequalities, worries, injustice and there is an almost unreasonable sense of “ras de bol” from people who are fed up with so many things yet at the same time they have so much which they take for granted. Alongside it all lurk the extremists and those who have a strange attraction to violence and destruction as well as the opportunist thieves. 

As a movement, the “gilets jaunes” enjoy wide support from all walks of life, young and old but there is a remarkable lack of people condemning the violence as though its acceptable for the poor old police to suffer the appalling attacks they have had to put up with whilst showing remarkable restraint. One can but hope that it will all calm down, that some of the big issues will be addressed properly and that maybe things will improve as a result. It does seem that something can’t be right when so many people feel the need to protest. The power of social network communication amongst ordinary people has also been a very important factor of these protests who’s symbol oddly enough is the high visibility yellow vest which everyone is obliged by law to have in their car in France. Something you can put on the dashboard to show support or remove it just as easily, many display it just to avoid any hassle as its so easy to do.

Projects for next year

Well given the circumstances there are none. My only hope is that my French wife’s health improves. The rest we will take it as it comes and try and make the best of things. Can’t complain as my mum used to say. One must respect the wartime generations lessons and ability to be stoic as they did experience truly dreadful things.

After a wonderful Christmas in Provence last year, this time around we have been most grateful for visits from family and entertainment from our new-found friend NETFLIX 😉

Best wishes

Peter H.

[peter-horrocks]

Football in France

As football mania hit fever pitch in France last week I was on a TGV fast train heading from Paris to Aix-en-Provence somewhat relieved it was actually running and amused to be getting the excited updates of the progress of the world cup final game over the intercom system whilst the carriage staff painted passenger’s cheeks with the tricolour of red white and blue. I had plenty of time to reflect on football in France.

In fact, I am truly grateful to the French amateur football system as I am sure it saved me from the potential health pitfalls of one of the most pervasive bad habits in France and the UK for that matter, smoking. Yes, it was football which made me give up smoking when I was young, nipping it in the bud forever and it introduced me to eating seafood too.

From a very early age I played football both outdoor at school, in the street, the park and for my hometown Middleton near Manchester on some of the muddiest windswept cold pitches in the UK. I experienced the sparse facilities at boundary park where I played for Oldham Athletic as a junior and even more rudimentary set up at Rochdale FC’s home Spotland where my youth club team won the regional final.

At Lancaster University the only thing I did of which I can still feel proud was winning the college cup with Grizedale for the first time in their history and to this day I can remember slumping in the shower still in my full kit as the water washed the mud off my multiple cuts and bruises.

I did give up for a period of ten years as a kind of personal protest at the wave of hooliganism which for some weird reason took root in the eighties. Then started again playing for Gargrave village team in Yorkshire where the sloping pitches matched the contours of the dales, finally settling for indoor 5 a side in Skipton where I was swiftly hacked down for “showboating”, a brutal reminder of UK sporting values whatever your age.

Which brings me on to France where I first played for the town team of St Foy la Grande (which is about a one hour drive from Bordeaux) whilst on my gap year working on a vineyard. It was the farmer himself who suggested I give it a try and he organised everything.

The first step was to pass the medical. Yes before you can join a club and play at any level you need to produce a medical certificate and that applies to numerous activities, I had to do the same here more recently when I joined the local climbing wall.

Like many a miss-guided youngster I had started smoking when I went to high school and by the age of eighteen, I was merrily working my way through packets of Gauloise and Gitanes during my days trudging up and down the vineyards with secateurs in hand. I was suddenly concerned that smoking might become an issue at my medical. So I stopped three days before my appointment with the doctor.

The doctor had me do a number of strenuous exercises then proceeded to check my pulse, take my tension level and listen with a stethoscope to my chest. “Vous fumer?” he asked. “No no” I gasped desperately. “Oui vous fumer” he replied and proceeded to fill out and sign off my certificate. That was it for me. I never touched a cigarette ever again and am forever grateful.

Mid-week I set off on my old Peugeot “mobylette” on the ten kilometres of unlit country road to training. Training!!! I had never ever done a days training. All we ever did back home was play matches. Not even a stretch beforehand as it was generally freezing outside and you would have been called all the names under the sun if you did anything more than lace your boots. Yes, training on a beautiful flat green pitch under the glare of floodlights. Floodlights!!! I couldn’t believe it. I was used to having to weave my way around numerous muddy pitches with a backdrop of cotton mill chimneys not a  pitch with a stand on one side and blooming floodlights on a warm balmy evening. 

We trained and practised, and I rode home after with a big grin on my face, I didn’t even care when my ride broke down and I had to walk the last few kilometres in the dark wondering occasionally into the drainage ditch which invariably runs each side of a French country road. I played a season for Ste Foy and enjoyed being known as “le grand anglais” and they made the most of my height and ability to head the ball as I was way bigger than anyone else. 

After the games came the “troisieme mi-temps” or third half which was spent with the whole team, manager and the few supporters and relatives in a local restaurant. After significant victories it sometimes got raucous and on one occasion I was faced with a forfeit of standing on the table and eating an oyster.They don’t have oysters where I used to holiday in North Wales, just fish and chips. So the sight of this thing which not only looked disgusting but was still actually alive and moving was not good. Normally I would have declined but in these circumstances,  there was too much honour at stake. I gulped it down and followed it swiftly with a glass of wine. It was actually rather good, a nice taste of the sea. Surprising, like French football.

In the dressing room at Old Trafford enjoying the French connection

My team which I have always followed is Manchester United as you were born a red or a blue where I came from in those days, you didn’t choose fancifully. The club has a strong connection with French players and none more so than Eric Cantona (the King) and I always enjoyed this aspect. Nowadays it is Paul Pogba who is flying the red’s flag and causing as much controversy in his own way as Eric “le roi” did.

I found this poster of King Eric on the wall of a restaurant in Bandol.

I have been to a number of French matches in France over the years, starting in Bordeaux, again in my gap year. There I was astonished when a chap in the crowd tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I had a knife so he could cut his “saucisson” which is a kind of dried salami type sausage. No way that would happen in the UK. It reflected the French people's attitude to football then as it was before they won the World Cup for the first time and interest was low key, food far more important. 

More recently I went to see Marseille for whom Didier Deschamps was the manager and I actually once saw the crowd go on strike, which made me laugh. His fortunes have certainly risen since then and the stadium has been expanded and developed as have many in France to reflect the sports growing status.

Watching Didier Deschamps Marseille before the days of the roof

So, I have followed football and played back in the UK and over here and it was wonderful to see France deservedly crowned world champions and a relief to see the celebrations completed without serious incident and the country briefly united and happy after what has been a number of difficult years for the French. I think few will begrudge them the trophy and in my mind, there is little surprise that they are so technically gifted and dominant.

On Wednesday evening I played as usual in a mountain village near Grasse with the Saint-Cezaire-Sur-Siagne veterans, finding myself still thankful to the French football system for helping me quit smoking so I can still play well despite rapidly approaching 60. I played in my Marseille kit bought for me by my French family one Christmas and on the pitch they called me Waddle after Chris who was one of the few English players to play in France, for OM too. 

The standard was as good as ever, we were joined by numerous local youngsters who like to play with us because of the “bon ambience”. We played on the superb three-quarter size all weather astroturf pitch with big goals and as usual, the floodlights were on and it was a warm balmy evening. Is football coming home after all? Maybe it is, it depends where home is.

Something quite unique I have come across here is a concept called Urban Soccer which allows individuals or groups to sign in and join up with others to form five-a-side teams and play at centres such as the one at Villeneuve Loubet where they have converted a tennis club into a complex of over twenty floodlit all weather pitches. It is a great way to participate in five a side, there is a clubhouse with a bar and you can even arrange to have your match filmed. There are regular tournaments with referees and everything. I've tried it with family and friends here, its good fun. One French friend told me he signs up and plays when he goes to New York with work as there is one at Central Park.

It is just a game though for some reason football attracts millions of peoples interest throughout the world, whether playing or watching or just criticising anything and everything from overpaid players to lack of facilities. In the UK it is still played with passion and grit which I love and in France with technical ability and speed which is wonderful to experience. I personally treasure every moment I am still able to play. Enjoy!

Best wishes

Peter Horrocks

Peter H. Copyright © 2018 Peter Horrocks, all rights reserved

[peter-horrocks]

Grasse adds 2cv French icon for flower power expo

This morning my French wife rang me to say she had seen a "deuche plein de fleurs" in the centre of Grasse on her way to work. "Tu dois aller voir" meaning I should go and look at the newly arrived 2cv full of flowers.

"The relentless pursuit of being different is very French".

Alain Ducasse

Flower power 2cv at the heart of the Rose de Mai  Expo 2018 in Grasse

At the weekend we managed to get out for the first time for ages to a really nice restaurant in the famous Le Suquet area of Cannes just before it gets busy with film festival people. One of the things we discussed was the Rose de Mai which is an important part of the fabric of the culture of Grasse where we live. I want to visit one of rose de Mai growing fields and this is a good time of year to do so as it's the Rose de Mai Expo in Grasse from 10 to 13 May 2018.

I'm now planning to go along to visit the fields in a small village near Grasse called Plascassier at le Domain de Manon on a Tuesday morning at 09.00 which is the only day and time that individual visits are possible.

So it's fair to say I am in the swing of the May Rose theme at the moment and it didn't take much prompting to get me away from my computer over which I have been labouring rather a lot recently to walk up to the centre of Grasse.

2cv in the Grasse bandstand which will no doubt be adorned with flowers soon

There placed in a flower bed in the main square of the Place du Cours Honore-Cresp was the shell of a Citroen 2cv adorned with flower power images and full of flowers and another one perched in the bandstand. Both were attracting interest and it's clear Grasse has got a fun theme for the Rose de Mai expo this year.

The finger of the admiral's statue points out the 2cv in the flower bed

Walking back home I looked in more detail at the rather tasteful advertising poster which I had been admiring in passing recently mostly for the rather beautiful photograph and saw that the words "flower power" were also inscribed. Everything fell into context.

Taken from the rather nice Grasse flower power advertising poster

The 2cv does have that peace and love, ban the bomb, flower power connection and it is also very French, it is not meant for speed but it just happens to be very different from any other vehicles on the road today, old or new. I was intrigued to hear the remarks of the folk taking pictures of those 2cv's in Grasse this morning, they were all enthusing madly.

Old 2cv's are a small part of my work these days as I help supply parts to my good friend Martyn who is based in Oxford with his Classic 2cv renovation business. He is an absolute mine of information about anything you want to know about 2cvs, seriously I don't think there is anything he doesn't know right down to the smallest mechanical detail. The restoration skills of Martyn and his team are quite startling and it is a real pleasure to see how they take an old part which seems beyond all hope and breath new life into it. They do full vehicle renovations too and for me, it is both fun and a privilege to be involved as I can wholeheartedly get behind salvaging and saving what for me is perhaps the ultimate French Icon.

Classic 2cv have a Classic 2cv shop with a huge range of 2cv parts including some very old ones for the very early 1950's models. They can ship and deliver anywhere and have many loyal clients from the USA, Germany, South America even Madagascar as well as the UK and France believe it or not.

I will be over to Provence to pick up a set of 400 wheel rims for the very early Type A 2cv on Friday morning for Martyn and will visit a villa for Villas du Monde in Bonnieux on the way home. I consider myself very fortunate to be part of what I enjoy so much about this marvellous country of France and its French culture.

The Rose de Mai advertised by the Molinard perfumery car park

It's obviously very niche and not everyone's "tasse de thé" but there was something very satisfying for me today about seeing my adopted city which has an image of sophistication for its perfumes’ placing the good old 2cv at the heart of its main annual exposition.

Best wishes

Peter H. Copyright © 2018 Peter Horrocks, all rights reserved

[peter-horrocks]

Reading classic French novels

Since I got stuck into reading in my teens I have taken huge pleasure as my interests have shifted over the years in working through various genres of English literature. One of the most rewarding being reading the classics albeit that every now and again it was more like hard work. More recently I set about the French classics and surprisingly met with an unexpected early reward for my time invested.

“Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend“

- Albert Camus

The latest Astérix book is as topical as ever - the theme being road potholes known in French as ‘nids de poule’.

I didn't get on with French at all at school and learnt only through submersion and necessity when I spent my gap year working on a farm in south-west France which was owned by the daughter of a 'pied noir'. It was either learn to speak French or sink. So I did acquire the basics with plenty of help from my hosts and by the time I left I was proud to be able to read and understand the most part of an Astérix the Gaul comic book or ‘band dessinée’ as they are known in France.  

Over the years I gradually got better and better at speaking French largely as a result of working in the tourist industry specialising in France though I still relied quite a lot on expert French speakers for assistance. Things evolved and I got better at reading and writing when I started working directly with a French company and even more so ten years ago when I met my better half who is French and with whom I have lived fulltime in Grasse for over four years now.

Lying around our apartment here I came across contemporary novels by the likes of Guillaume Musso and Marc Levy and I decided to try reading them. To my pleasant surprise, I could. So as is my bent I read a whole heap of their very enjoyable books until I had just about had enough.

So what next? Chance had it that we stayed in Normandy with the sister of my French wife. She has a huge selection of books including full collections of most of the French classics. Jules Verne caught my eye and I spent the next year merrily cruising through many of his best works.

The following year I asked for suggestions on what would be the best French classics for an Englishman to read in French given that I had already read some in English such as Victor Hugo's 'Les Miserables' and Alain Fournier's 'Le Grand Meaulnes'. I came away with an old box containing twelve classic French books.

This is the ultimate book of words by Sartre

It seemed appropriate to start with 'Les Mots' by Jean-Paul Sartre as one of my key aims is to grow my vocabulary. An inspired choice that proved to be as it gives a wonderful insight into the mind of the writer and how one as gifted as he fell into complex storytelling at such an early precocious age so much so that it became a handicap before proving a blessing. What a rich selection of words it threw up too, it certainly had me reaching for my google translate on a regular basis.

This was followed by interesting forays into works by Maupassant and an intriguing book by Camus called L'Etranger. I discovered from my French family that Camus was a 'Pied Noir' too and by chance shortly after I found a film based on his life on NETFLIX so I watched it. The French are pretty good at documentary-style films about their painters and writers so it was fairly inevitable that I found it enjoyable and also it gave me a bit more insight into what these 'Pied Noir' people who lived in Algeria from around 1830 to 1962 went through in the latter years.

The strangely simplistic yet very revealing L’etranger by Camus

Then last week for work I went to visit a villa which was recently added to the VDM range in Provence. It is unusual because it has a mini cinema which seats ten in proper cinema style rows with staggered heights and actual cinema seats as well as full surround sound and a big screen along with over 1500 DVD's, the likes of which I had never seen before (and I have seen some).

The home cinema

I always like to know something about the owners of the villas as it allows me to evaluate if they are reliable and on a human level it is interesting too. So I popped the question on this visit. Turns out the owner is a film director for French television. "Would I know his work?" "Depends what you watch" he responded perhaps thinking it unlikely that this tall very English looking old fellow would watch French TV at all. "Well, what genre?" "Period documentary films." "Ah sounds interesting".

To my surprise, it turned out that he directed the Camus film. 

So next time you wonder if it's worth reading a book in French I say go on, you never know where it might lead you and if nothing else you will acquire words maybe friends too.

Best wishes

Peter H. Copyright © 2018 Peter Horrocks, all rights reserved

[peter-horrocks]

Inside France - Peter Horrocks Blog turned 3 today!

[peter-horrocks]

Patience and perseverance pay off for the postmaster

I recently had the pleasure of meeting Michel a retired postmaster from the Var department of France who realised his dream through sheer patience and perseverance.

Waterfront setting with private beach in the south of France

Many fantasise of creating an idyllic retirement and I have come across lots of relatively happy retirees who have opted for a rental home arrangement here in France as part of their plan for old age but none have impressed me quite as much as Michel and his wife.

He contacted Villas du Monde as he wanted to diversify the clientele for the holiday rental property he owns. I was asked to speak to him in my capacity as local agent for the Region Sud previously known as the PACA. My explanation of how VDM operated satisfied him and I sent him the owner application form which he duly completed and we arranged for me to visit.

A few days later I arrived earlier than scheduled and found Michel hosing down the patio terrace kitted out in rather professional looking cycling gear. He was a little taken aback so I offered to come back later when he was ready but he declined.

The main patio terrace with white ship-style rails

A charming man, in his seventies, he proceeded to show me around and even though it was the middle of winter the sun was hot bouncing off the sea so close. The house itself is not Villas du Monde’s usual sort of place as it is disjointed but it was nice enough and in very good order. Location location location is what this place is all about and furthermore, there is a really nice motorboat included in the rental, I liked it. Situated on a small bay accessed via a tiny lane it is wonderfully remote with just a few other houses nearby. The rocky beach in front of the house is actually private.

My hunch that it was a special place was confirmed when Michel's wife arrived in jogging gear, back from her six-kilometre walk through the woods along the coast. She was on the telephone to the producer of one of the top mainstream French television channels who was wanting to film on location there with one of the nations most well-known presenters, referred to commonly as "beau gosse" meaning handsome boy. The setting did feel like the right location for a Provencal film.

I was curious how Michel had managed to set up a holiday rental property in such a privileged situation in what was previously a wooden fisherman's cabin as such places are extremely hard to acquire and planning laws are very stringent and restrictive. He explained that initially, he rented the old cabin from the fisherman for five full consecutive summers, each time offering to buy it until finally, the owner relented. Talk about patience!

Porthole-style windows offering stunning sea views

Then he went to the local planning office and asked them for their idea of what would be a suitable sort of development and they gave him some ideas which he transformed into drawings with his son and they eventually presented plans for the current building which has many elements of boat design including porthole-style windows and white ship style rails. His planning proposals were accepted, a model lesson in how to go about getting approval in sensitive areas.

All that was interesting in its own right then he went on to explain that he rebuilt the whole place himself, the walls, the roof, tiling, fittings, everything. He just loved "bricolage" as the French call DIY, his real job was master of a post office, a 'fonctionnaire' an employee of the state, not a manual worker at all, nor rich.

The boat that comes with the house on a small sandy creek on Porquerolles

Cleverly Michel and his wife also acquired a small apartment in nearby Carquieranne which enables them to be within 2 kilometres drive of the rental property which they let out for summer holidays from mid-June to mid-September. Close enough to offer assistance if required and for Michel to skipper the boat for two outings a week to the likes of the nearby island of Porquerolles if the clients do not have a motorboat permit. 

Beach on  Porquerolles nominated one of the best in France

He also provides a low powered motor boat which doesn't need a licence as well as two kayaks and two stand-up paddle boards all included in the house rental price. Outside those summer months, he moves back in and enjoys the place with his family, grandchildren and friends. A perfect retirement and a testament to the virtues of patience and perseverance.

Here is a short video he made featuring some clients during their stay at his house.

[peter-horrocks]

Inside France review of 2017

This has been a very busy year and one that I will certainly treasure as we did a number of exceptionally enjoyable outings, a good deal of very worthwhile family projects and lots of work. So it's no rest for this boy and frankly that's the way I like it, work hard play hard has long been my motto in life.

"When you play, play hard; when you work, don't play at all."

- Theodore Roosevelt

The 2cv remains my favourite object of Frenchness

Inside France gets published again

It has been a rewarding year from a blogger point of view with two of my Inside France articles being picked up and re-published in The Good Life France, which I have Janine Marsh to thank for once more.

The Brexit drama

There is no getting away from the fact that Brexit has been at the forefront of my thoughts as I imagine it has been for many, though perhaps more so for those of us who have chosen to make our lives outside our home country, in Europe, as the stakes are obviously high and the effects may well be life-changing. Things have certainly moved on from this time last year and we are starting to see some flesh on the bones of what the body of Brexit may look like. With another year and some before we finally know for sure, it is not without some anxiety that one looks ahead to the future. Though at the same time I say to myself how lucky we are to live in a Europe of today where these things are negotiated relatively calmly compared to the past when gauntlets were swiftly thrown down by reckless Kings and Queens and chaos inevitably ensued.

So much history binds so many of us, in nearby countries, regions and islands

Re-discovering Brittany and Carcassonne

In the early part of the year we teamed up with family for a wonderful holiday in Brittany and we were so lucky to have a week of glorious sunshine in June. I worked for a couple of years for Eurocamp based in Nantes and much of that time was pretty wet and then when I returned for a holiday with our baby girl we were completely washed out and returned home early. So it was great to be able to really enjoy the joys of the Morbihan and even manage a few dips in the sea this time. 

Amazing sunsets in Brittany

On our way home, we had an equally special stay in Carcassonne which was basking in a heat wave.

The central keep in Carcassonne

Visiting more villas in Cote d'Azur and Provence My work for Villas Worldwide / Villas du Monde involved visiting an increased number of properties in my sector which is the newly named Région Sud (ex PACA region). More and more villa owners have been coming to us asking us to feature their villas on our websites, which is a good sign. The owners are often interesting people, some own village shops, others restaurants, even vineyards and just last week I was privileged to spend some time with one who is a retired pioneering vascular doctor who had just completed an around the world trip on a catamaran which he had built specially, leafing through his photograph album was a real treat and I felt if anyone deserved such a rewarding voyage it was him.

Growing French vocabulary with the classics I'm pretty pleased with my progress on this front, which has mainly involved me ploughing through a big selection of classic French literature in French. Yes by familiarising myself with the likes of Sartre, Camus and Maupassant I am hoping to acquire words, words and more words with which to converse better in my French universe. All good so far... why didn't I do it earlier?

Best laughs - comedy theatre in Nice It is so important to laugh in life and I do thank the stars that there is such good comedy theatre near to us in Nice as it is there that I have laughed the most and the longest this year. To share it with French friends and enjoy a typical Nicoise meal in the restaurant opposite beforehand made it all the better, as laughter shared is even more enriching.

Best cultural moments The opera in Orange and the Monet gardens. These are two of the best cultural outings we have ever done, what a privilege to attend such a magnificent outdoor opera in the Roman amphitheatre in Orange on a warm mid-summer evening and the stunningly beautiful Monet garden and house in the spring.

Best family moment What a joy it was to spend time with my wonderful daughter when she came to visit us, especially at the Molinard perfumery in Grasse where she concocted her very own perfume with the help of an expert perfumer. A fabulous fragrance and how nice to know that whenever she wears it she carries a little memory of Grasse.

It is not easy choosing the ingredients of your own perfume at Molinard

France today

The mood in France is picking up as the dynamic new President is making more headway than most expected and the country continues to gain from the fallout in the UK over Brexit. Though there is still considerable dissatisfaction with the state of things, especially high taxes and the feeling which is prevalent in many European countries that the recent population changes have come too fast and that the country is being dragged down as a result. There would seem to be a lot of truth in that though you could also argue that there is a reluctance to share the easier fruits of the earth too, though it is the aggressive posturing and invasive religious and political positions which make most people very wary and worried that not enough is being done to protect the status quo. On the other hand, not many wish to really understand the difficulties faced in more hostile parts of the world either. Time will no doubt help everyone to integrate better as the world becomes a smaller place due to easier, cheaper travel and people get used to each other and adapt. At least that's the impression I get from the people I meet over here.

Projects for next year

I have to admit to making zero progress on my book and am resigned to putting it off until I have more time available. However I am becoming increasingly resolved to do something with my barn over in the Dordogne once the Brexit issues are settled, it is nice to have a good project to go at and that certainly is one. Finally my big aim this coming year is to get involved with local projects concerned with cleaning up the sea and I urge you to do the same, picking up on David Attenborough's Blue Planet II inspiration as I think he is right when saying our children's future depends on it.

Children on the donkey in a back street of Salon-en-Provence

And finally Mid-night Christmas mass in Salon-en-Provence

By chance as so often happens when living in France we had a magical moment at Christmas when we joined the torch lit midnight procession to mass in Salon-en-Provence where we were staying. The two children on the donkey, the locals dressed in traditional Provencal garb started by the Roman church in the centre by the castle and wove through the narrow streets past the statue of Nostradamus, through the clock tower arch and up to the main church which was packed as the donkey meandered right up along the aisle. The songs and service were in the Provencal dialect which is a beautiful distorted mix of French and Italian. A wonderful way to end Christmas inside France.

Best wishes Peter H. Copyright © 2017 Peter Horrocks, all rights reserved

[peter-horrocks]

Top 5 Dordogne destinations

The Dordogne is one of those departments of France which every Englishman seems to know as the Cotswolds in the sun and most French people look at you rather quizzically and repeat "la Dordogne"? Here I have concentrated on the principal cities, towns and villages in the Dordogne (which is in the Nouvelle-Aquitaine region of France) with the aim of giving a helpful overview to the first time visitor.

"France may one day exist no more, but the Dordogne will live on just as dreams live on and nourish the souls of men." 

- Henry Miller

La Roque Gageac is one of the main sights along the river Dordogne

Sarlat Sarlat is, without doubt, the main Dordogne destination. It has a largely unspoilt mediaeval centre composed of weathered honey-coloured stone which provides a unique charm and simply oozes history.  

The magnificent mediaeval centre of Sarlat

For 1 The buildings are so beautiful especially on a sunny day and they make for charming shops, bars and restaurants, as well as hotels and there are also some fabulous holiday apartments there too. The old centre of the city is mainly free of traffic so you can stroll around in a carefree manner.

There are plenty of places to eat in Sarlat, at a price

2 Sarlat is handy for visiting many of the major attractions along the river Dordogne such as La Roque Gageac, Domme and Castelnaud-la-Chapelle.

3 The market is one of the biggest in the area and you can buy the local specialities which include truffles, confit de canard and foie gras (a controversial product but cannot be ignored as it is still very much a part of French cuisine).

The market stalls are full of high-quality local products

Against

1 The traffic on the access roads and perimeter can be terrible on market days and in the height of the summer.

2 It can be rather pricey on all levels, most noticeably in the restaurants. This reflects what the place is, which is rather upmarket.

3 It isn't actually a very big place and once you have done the rounds of the main street and the old medieval sector that's it really. So if you are going for the day you may want to combine with something else like a riverside village visit.

Les Eyzies-de-Tayac-Sireuil

If anywhere could be said to be at the heart of the prehistoric history of the Dordogne then it has to be Les Eyzies. It is the perfect base to begin one's education of 'pre-histoire'.

For

1 The National Museum of Prehistory is located there. Nearby are the Lascaux caves, Roque Saint Christophe, Font-de-Gaume and Prehisto park in Tursac all of which are well worth visiting.

Troglodyte dwellings were set into the cliff at Les Eyzies and some are still used

2 Set on the banks of the beautiful river Vézère which is a tributary of the Dordogne and dominated by a huge limestone cliff Les Eyzies is very scenic and also a good place from which to take a canoe trip.

3 There is a good choice of restaurants in Les Eyzies so you can combine a visit with a meal and if you choose to stay for a few days you can work your way around them.

The Roque Saint Christophe is a fabulous place to visit for adults and children

Against

1 In the summer months, it does get very busy and some of the charm rubs off due to the traffic passing through.

2 It is not a very big place, indeed it is only a village so there is a limit to what is on offer there though it's strategic setting in the Périgord Noir helps negate that.

3 Access is not great as it is very much in the countryside although the nearest motorway is only 40 minutes away. There is a rail station but it is the sort of place you really need to have a car.

Brantôme

Brantôme is one of the most picturesque riverside towns in the Dordogne and it is not for nothing that it is known as "la Venise du Périgord".

For

1 Here you can enjoy the river Dronne from every angle, it is all very photogenic and it is unsurprisingly classed amongst 'Les plus beaux detours' of France.

L'abbaye Saint-Pierre de Brantôme

2 The centre of Brantôme is charming as the buildings are old, a well-preserved combination of medieval and renaissance, with lots of small individual shops specialising in local products. There are some excellent restaurants too as well as a very pleasant market.

3 The river encircles the town and the barrage offers a spectacular sight from the beautiful old bridge which connects to the Benedictine L'abbaye Saint-Pierre de Brantôme on the opposite bank. You can take boat trips on the river as well as canoe descents for the more adventurous.

Le Moulin de l'Abbaye restaurant in  Brantôme is one of the best in the area

Against

1 The main limiting factor about Brantôme is it's size as once you have done the tour of the centre, the park with its beautiful weeping willows and the Abbey which was built by Charlemagne in 769 behind which is the 'Last Judgement' cave set in the limestone cliff, that is about it. So it is a place to visit more than a place to stay.

2 It is a little bit off the beaten track from the heart of the Dordogne attractions being sited in the north of the Périgord Vert and forty minutes from the nearest motorway. A car is a must.

There are water mills all along the river Dronne such as this one which still produces delicious walnut oil in the traditional way.

3 Compared to the mellow honey-coloured limestone of the areas in the heart of the Dordogne the white limestone of the buildings here is not quite so pretty.

Périgueux

Périgueux has a very nice, though not very big main centre and old quarter, it is an interesting place with a Roman heritage.

For

1 The pedestrian streets of the old town are lovely, the architecture invites you to take your time, to look up and around you. The shops are charming too, quite smart on the whole. There is a good indoor market too.

The main shopping street in the old part of Périgueux

2 There are a number of open squares in the old town area which are excellent places to eat, picturesque and good value restaurants too where you can enjoy what the area is renowned for, very good food at reasonable prices.

3 The cathedral is similar in design to the Sacre Coeur in Paris, it is certainly worth a visit and there are some good classical concerts held there too.

The Byzantine cathedral in Perigueux

Against

1 The traffic is one of the drawbacks of Périgueux when it comes to getting in and out of the centre, it is busy much of the year.

2 Other than a few shopping streets beyond the old town and the main boulevard there is not a great deal else other than the Roman sites.

3 It is not the sort of place you would necessarily want to spend more than a day and an evening.

Bergerac

Bergerac is situated on the river Dordogne astride the wine regions and the heart of the Dordogne and became better known once Ryanair started flying there.

The red and sweet white wines of the Bergerac wine areas are well worth a try

1 The river runs right by the centre and adds a pleasant aspect to the city, there are traditional boats "garrigues" and riverside bars.

2 The main shopping centre is pleasant with some good value restaurants. It's a wine region so amongst others you find good well-priced reds such as Chateau de Tiregand Bergerac Pécharmant and Monbazillac which is a sweet dessert white which ages superbly and has a beautiful chateau which you can visit.

3 Access is very good as the airport is just fifteen minutes drive from the centre.

Against

1 The shopping centre is not particularly big so once you have done the main area that's it.  

2 It is something of a flat sprawling town and the architecture, on the whole, is nowhere near as attractive as somewhere like Sarlat although the timbered buildings in the surrounding countryside can be exceptionally beautiful.

3 Bergerac is a little out of the way from the main sights of the Dordogne though not too far.

The Dordogne is a place where I have spent many happy years driving around and enjoying the company of the locals who are warm and friendly and rightly proud of their department which is more about the villages and a rural way of life than major destinations though it's Prehistory is exceptional, so is the food. I hope you get the chance to enjoy discovering this beautiful verdant part of France with its peaceful meandering rivers.