A 'Cat'astrophic Day...

I recently wrote a blog entry about how much I loved living here because no two days are ever the same and I detailed strange events that had happened during a 5 day period.  All that pales into insignificance compared to a recent set of very strange experiences that happened over a 24 hour period – and I apologise for the length of this blog but it was a very ‘full’ day!

It started on Sunday evening when my new kitten vanished into the dark and windy night.  Luckily no cars were passing at midnight or they would have seen a lunatic woman in a hideous pink dressing gown standing in the road shaking a bag of cat biscuits and calling his name!  I left the outside lights on and the kitchen door open all night and didn’t sleep very well – mainly imagining what other strange animals might try to come into the house.  The next morning, fearing the worst (although actually the dog looked quite pleased) Loulou and I walked up and down the road looking for a dead body in the hedge, then I prodded the murky depths of the pond with a stick, then grappled with the pool cover imagining that he must have fallen in chasing a lizard and drowned, but luckily found nothing.  We then went to ask the neighbours to keep their eyes open – they are in their 80s, very fit and healthy and are out gardening in all weathers, but I was still rather shocked  to see Madame squatting over a bucket next to the water butt as I approached.  I hid behind a large cactus plant until she had finished and she didn’t seem at all embarrassed to be pulling up her tracksuit bottoms as I greeted her (happily we are on kissing terms not handshakes)   I was almost convinced I had been hallucinating but I googled it later and apparently fresh urine makes perfect compost accelerator, but it has made me wary of accepting their gifts of home-grown vegetables...

My friend Vicky then arrived to carry on painting the living room and I had to leave for work – although the fact she had brought the 5 dogs again made it unlikely that the cat would be brave enough to return while I was out.  At 3pm I received a phone call from the plumber saying that he was at the rubbish tip and that he could see smoke on the top of the hill near my house.  I explained that although I was out there was no problem as my friends were at the house and hung up.  About 30 minutes later I rang Vicky to make sure that everything was OK, only to find that she had left 2 hours earlier.  On a positive note, it took my mind off the missing cat but I then had to ring the incontinent/eco-friendly neighbours just to make sure that my house wasn’t on fire.  It took a fair amount of explaining but they reassured me that everything was OK.  (Later I heard that the Mayor’s vineyard had been on fire but luckily it is not that close to the house). 

Shortly after that I was driving back down one mountain on the way to the second viewing, with the clients following in the car behind, when I heard a motorbike behind me – but when I looked in the mirror there was nothing there.  I then realised the noise was coming from the back of the car so I pulled in to the side of the road but could see nothing (nor could the bemused clients) so I explained to them that I thought I had a stone in the tyre so not to be surprised by any strange manoeuvres I might make once we got to the straight bit of road.  I then proceeded to wiggle the wheel and stamp on the brakes occasionally but nothing would dislodge it so I carried on driving to the next rendezvous almost convinced that I had a wasps nest in the boot but arrived safely in Cassagnes, 20 kilometres up another twisty mountain road.  When we had finished viewing the final property we all spotted that the back tyre was now completely flat.  The clients just happened to have a very handy electronic tyre inflator so they very kindly helped me – but to no avail, the tyre just would not inflate.  I then faced the embarrassing situation of having to unpack the entire boot area (bag of dog toys/dish/water bottles, supermarket shopping, beach towels, christmas decorations (?)) only to find that my car was the type that only came with a puncture repair kit and not a spare tyre. The breakdown service said they would send someone out within 45 minutes.  The policy here is that they get you to the nearest garage, not necessarily a tyre specialist and not necessarily near to where you want to be so the fact I was in a remote village miles from anywhere didn’t bode well.  There was obviously some event going on in the village that afternoon as well-dressed people carrying flowers and/or glasses of wine drifted in and out of the Mairie where I was parked so at least there was something to look at to pass the time, and when at last the breakdown truck arrived, everybody came out to watch, and who could blame them as it was an enormous black and yellow ex-army type vehicle with flags and flashing lights everywhere.   The mechanic found a huge piece of metal in the tyre and couldn’t repair it so was then thrilled to entertain the assembled crowd by using a remote control to engage the gadgets to raise and lower my car several times before towing it off to the garage.

The garage was in Ille-sur-Tet, a town slightly more in the direction of my village (which was a bonus) but by this time it was 7pm and the garage was closing so they would see what they could do to the tyre in the morning, and called for a taxi to take me home (paid for by the insurance company).  I was relieved to know that I would be home within 20 minutes but my hopes were dashed when the taxi driver then announced that he would be picking up another fare from Perpignan ‘on the way’ (local residents will understand my rage at this detour!).  It turned out that he was picking up an elderly person from the Clinic and taking him back to his home in Prats-de-Mollo, a village at the top of the Tech Valley.  Despite the fact that the patient seemed to be still suffering mild effects from the sedatives, he was aware enough to question the route that the driver was taking and had to be reassured several times that taking the ‘wine-route’ and dropping me off on the way would be a short cut!

I finally got home at 8pm, completely stressed and exhausted, to be greeted by an extremely excited dog who managed to convince me that what I really wanted to do was to play with her in the garden, rather than dive into a bottle of wine and relax.  Eventually, with my guilt at leaving her for so long assuaged by an epic game of football and double-portions in her food-bowl I was able to pour myself a generous glass of wine and sat out on the terrace while my Pizza cooked.  I half-heartedly called the cat’s name and heard a rustling sound from the bottom of the hedge.  Given the fact that I have seen a snake under there I thought it was pretty brave of me to investigate but, armed with a tennis racket, I managed to pull some branches aside and peer in and found an extremely shocked and exhausted kitten staring up at me.  It took quite some time to manoeuvre him out from his hiding place as I was terrified of hurting him even more as he was obviously injured, but I was so pleased to hear him purr as I held him in my arms. I had not had him for long and he was usually pretty wary of me - perhaps due to the fact that I had him castrated within a week of his arrival... 

So, apart from the fact that my pizza was burnt to a crisp, my bizarre day ended happily.  And the cat is now doing well – the vet had to operate on some pretty horrible internal injuries and said that he had been run over by a car – but he is now back home with a shaved side and a plastic bucket tied round his head and looks so scary that the dog hides when he appears!

Tales of the Unexpected...

Clients often ask me what it is about the area that I love so much and the usual answers include the wonderful climate, the scenery, the relaxed way of life etc, but I have recently come to realise that what I love best about life here is that it is constantly surprising me.  No two days are ever the same, and here are just a few examples of events over the last week.

On Monday I went to visit an old stone Mas in the countryside.  Having driven down a bumpy track to reach the main gate, the owner was standing outside (with a horse) gesticulating for me to drive left and around the garden to reach the main house.  Literally, through the garden and along a garden path only just wide enough for a car to pass between the fence and the shrubbery.  Upon reaching the house I realised that there was no possible way of turning the car around and spent the whole visit worrying about how I could possibly reverse back – but needn’t have worried as she just told me to drive over the lawn in front of the house.

On Tuesday I was taking some clients to see several village houses and we suddenly came across a “Route Barrée” sign.  I followed the direction of the “Deviation” arrow and found myself at a t-junction with no clue as to where to go next.  I tried going right but the road headed down into a river bed with a few inches of water in it so turned round and went in the other direction, through a car park and a camp site and ended up back at the “Route Barréé” sign again.  Luckily another car arrived and we followed it along the river bed back to the main road, and continued our journey.  On our way back, the “Route Barrée” sign at the other side of the village had a “Deviation” arrow pointing directly towards the roadworks.  Getting through the village then involved going down a steep farm track, turning sharp right (which could not be done in one go and involved turning the car round first) and then driving up a steep track to join the main road.  Luckily the clients thought it was amusing and I am only pleased that on this occasion we hadn’t gone in separate cars.

On Wednesday afternoon I drove into my driveway and a large golden retriever that I had never seen before came out of the front porch to greet me, shortly joined by two terriers and two border collies (one of which was mine).  There is actually a logical explanation for this.  I had given a set of keys to a friend who had volunteered to do some painting in the house and she had mentioned that she would be bringing ‘the dogs’.  Vicky is mad about animals and always seems to have a house full of waifs and strays which she tries to find good homes for so while I was expecting her to bring her own two dogs to play with mine, I shouldn’t have been surprised to find a grand total of 5 dogs running around the garden even though it felt like an episode of The Twilight Zone at the time! 

Thursday brought two driving-related incidences which amused me.  Firstly I encountered a triangle warning sign at the side of the road with just an Exclamation Mark and no other clues.  I slowed down and after 2 kilometres came across some roadworks with a traffic light system in place.  Although I could see no oncoming traffic, I was very impressed to see that the red traffic light had a Countdown timer in place showing that the wait would be 2 minutes.  This was obviously far too much for the driver behind me to cope with and I had to laugh as he accelerated past me and then had to pull into a vineyard to avoid colliding with a very slow-moving 2CV coming towards us on the green light!  And later in the day I was driving back between St. Paul de Fenouillet and Estagel and noticed that either the local council or some graffiti artists have a sense of humour – on the tarmac on the road I saw big signs saying “Rappel 90km”, then another warning of a speed camera in 7km, then at the 7km point the white markings said “Sourire” (smile) followed by “Cool”!

Friday’s strange moment came when the dog started barking and I spotted an old lady in the vineyard at the bottom of the garden.  To set the scene, this vineyard is on a bit of a plateau, only accessible from the main road via the farm on the left, or through the gate in our garden, so to see an old lady there was quite unusual, to say the least.  I grabbed the gate key and went through to say ‘hello’ (and to find out what on earth she was doing).   She must have been 90 years old and was wearing one of those floral housecoats and was putting something from the hedge into a carrier bag.  It turned out that she was collecting wild asparagus and we discussed recipes and life in general and it was only after a very friendly conversation involving the words ‘pueblo’ and ‘amigos’ that I realised we were talking Spanish!  She and her carrier bag then disappeared down the escarpment on what I had always assumed was just a Sanglier track!

The title picture for this blog is just a typical example of the ‘strangeness’ of life here – why does the local garage have an Eiffel Tower flying the Catalan Flag? – Why not! 

 

NB  If anybody is interested, this garage is featured in a lovely film set in the region starring Omar Sharif – J’ai Oublié de te dire.  Well worth tracking down and watching.

And in local news today ....

I have just started writing a weekly ‘round-up’ of news for a local website here and in doing so I am reminded that it is a while since I last updated this blog.  So here is a round-up of my extremely local news...

Firstly, the Carcassonne – East Midlands summer flights have begun, so now I am a regular visitor doing the airport run.  On Wednesday the waitress in the airport restaurant brought me my regular ‘Cafe Allongee’ before I had even ordered it!  The airport is in the final throes of renovation work which has been going on for 2 years now but it can only be an improvement and will be nice when it is finished.

Talking of nice things when they are finished, we finally have a kitchen!  It is such a luxury to be able to store food, cook and wash-up in one room at last and it is so beautiful that I can almost forget the fact that it has taken 10 weeks to get to this stage – in much the same way that mothers can forget the pain of childbirth when they gaze into their new baby’s eyes...  The ‘cuisiniste’ has been conspicuous by his absence during these long weeks but finally dared to show his face last week to present us with an oven glove, a bottle of wine and an enormous bill.

Having left the dog to amuse herself in the garden while I went to the airport I was dismayed when she ran to greet us and was absolutely soaking wet.  She had somehow worked out how to turn the hose on and had bitten so many holes through it that it had become a giant sprinkler system and was now her new favourite toy.  A trip to the DIY shop beckons to see if they sell ‘dog-proof’ hoses.

Also on the subject of the dog, now that the ‘summer season’ is starting we can no longer take her to the more popular beach areas due to her obsession with balls.  Despite the fact that we take her own tennis ball she is much more interested in all the footballs being kicked around by the children and has disrupted many a happy family game.  And I can only apologise to the poor gentleman who was attempting to entertain the crowds on Place Mediterranee with his juggling act.  Although it was entirely his fault for dropping so many balls, and despite the fact that I think he earned more money by having a dog as part of his act, we can never return.......

And finally.... Perpignan Properties is no more.  I have been asked to join a local estate agency which by definition means that I can no longer be considered an ‘independent property finder’ – so if anybody is interested in taking it over, don’t hesitate to contact me!  My new agency is called Beautiful South and I think I was taken on as I am the only person who can pronounce the word ‘South’ properly!  I will be the main liaison for the English-speaking clients and have already spent days on viewings, long hours trying to understand the database and even longer hours at the Prefecture sorting out all the paperwork....

I shall continue writing this blog – mainly because I hope it gives a real flavour of the realities of living life in France for those who are thinking of taking the plunge, but also because it is the easiest way of keeping in touch with my friends!

Visitor Season

The sun is shining, the pool is clear and sparkly, it is definitely that time of year again – ‘Airport Run’ season! There are plenty of transport links here – Perpignan airport has regular flights to Birmingham, Southampton, Dublin, Paris & Brussels; you can get to just about anywhere from Girona Airport (just over an hour away in Spain) as it is a Ryanair ‘hub’, and we have the TGV which can get us to Paris pretty quickly (and hopefully very soon to Barcelona in just 45 minutes). We also have Beziers, Montpellier & Toulouse Airports as very useful back up, but for the moment, I seem to be visiting Carcassonne Airport as Ryanair operate flights from there to Dublin, Edinburgh and most importantly to East Midlands Airport (which is the area where most of my friends and family live). Please don’t take this as any kind of ‘official guide to flights to the Languedoc’ as Ryanair seem to change their flight schedules as often as I change my mind, but it hopefully gives an idea of how accessible we are down here. It is so useful to have such a big choice – but can also be a bit confusing for visitors such as my in-laws who are more used to having trips arranged by a travel agent and had to just trust me when I informed them that they would be flying in from one airport and then returning via another! (And actually I cheated in the end and got my daughter to accompany them).

Anyway, back to Carcassonne Airport, which is where I was yesterday, and also 10 days ago and will be visiting again next Monday. Last week wasn’t so bad - my husband was taking the flight back to the East Midlands so we got there in good time, I watched him go through the departure gate and then went up and had a coffee in the first-floor restaurant (which nicely overlooks the runway). I watched the inbound flight land – and waved at my daughter who had just arrived on it - I could tell that she could also see my husband in the departure ‘lounge’ underneath me! I went downstairs to greet her and then she and I stood at the window of the restaurant again to wave goodbye to my husband as he boarded the plane.

Yesterday, one week later, wasn’t quite so nice. I am terrible at saying goodbye to people and it felt even harder because there was nobody coming in on the inbound flight to replace her so when the time came to hug Georgia goodbye I could barely speak for tears. (Am welling up now just thinking about it!). I went and splashed some water on my face and then went back upstairs and managed to compose myself while I had a coffee – and then stupidly looked out of the window again as she boarded the flight.... I have to say that the waiter there is extremely kind and I can only apologise for the amount of paper napkins I used but he will just have to get used to it as I am back next week to collect my husband again!