Beware of Geeks Bearing Figs - Friday 29th August

The first fruits of our labours - ten beans, but they are our beans!

Our fig tree which has done so well despite being ignored for so long

The fig tree in the garden is now laden with ripening fruit and although we manage to eat a fair number ourselves, and have delivered a basket full to Mamy, we thought that perhaps our neighbour Nathalie who lives opposite would like some for her family.

Switching off our computers and making some sort of effort to tidy ourselves up, we went and rang the bell on their large electric gate, and Nathalie appeared, pleased to see us and very happy with the figs.

We have invited them all to come over and say hello to Mamy and join us for birthday cake in mid October, and having got the niceties over, we got around to bewailing the speed at which traffic whizzes up our section of the road. It is a total mystery as to why the entire village has a speed restriction of 30 kms on either side of our stretch, but some idiot who was probably in a hurry to get to his lunch and who couldn’t find a 30 sign, went and stuck up a 45 sign instead. Despite a petition to the Mayor, it is one of those situations where it has now been decreed by some distant traffic board that whatever is here now stays.

What we actually need is a speed hump about three feet high, and there are days when the prospect of a little piano wire wouldn’t go amiss.

I fail to understand that in a country where everyone is trying to do so much to avoid air pollution and rubbish pollution, that the wretched makers of small motor cycles aren’t forbidden to build bikes that sound like irate hornets and have a decibel level which can splinter glass. Isn’t noise pollution something that we are all supposed to be aware of?

I have absolutely no beef with the tractors and trailers that rumble past, and the reasonable speed of the large contingent of commuters who need to get through to the next lot of villages, but why oh why do we have to put up with the screech of these everlasting buzz bikes.
OK Moaning session over so you can relax, but if you know anyone who knows someone, please drop them a line.

Another thing that we needed to ask Nathalie was whether it would be OK for the truck carrying our much longed-for possessions to park on her pavement while they offload. She kindly said that it was no problem, and went on to say that when their furniture lorry arrived, she actually had to walk up the road and flag down the traffic to stop them from hurtling around the bend and straight into her three piece suite.

We walked up to the Tabac this morning and bought a Daily Telegraph and put up a small notice to see if there are any other Brits in the village. It would be nice to make contact with a few other folks around, so hopefully there will be a few calls. I know we are not cast adrift in some far off ex colony, but it is nice to know that there are a few people around who understand cricket, even if I don’t.

I had a good look around the Tabac while Jean was getting some Photostats done for our driving licence applications. The little shop really does just about sell only tobacco products if you don’t count the huge array of magazines and a fair number of rather suspect looking cheap sweets. Apparently there used to be a rather nice little supermarket in the village, but the lure of the big shops down at Lattes proved too much for the villagers, and having taken their custom elsewhere, they then realised that the convenience of having a shop on hand for the last minute odds and ends was now over, and I think everyone mourns its loss.

There is a rather curious shop which is situated right next to the Tabac but we have never seen it open, although the other day, the metal shutters were up but due to a large truck parked in front, I couldn’t see what was going on inside. We will have to creep up on it in an unsuspecting moment and see what is for sale. I have the feeling that it is something like a combination of wine and gas! I suppose that technically both could be classed as fuel so maybe he gets a licence for selling both!

We called in at the boulangerie and what in England would be described as a queue was a cheerful gathering of people exchanging niceties and news while the lady behind the counter managed to get their orders for “deux baguettes et deux croissants s’il vous plait” and get the change right without interrupting the conversation or getting the order of service wrong.

Everyone arriving calls out “Bonjour Monsieur, Madame” to the general public, and those who have been served and who are departing never fail to throw “Au revoir, bonne journée” over their shoulder. I found my attention being drawn to the glass counter which houses the most divine hand made delicacies. Tiny cakes beautifully iced and decorated with different fruits nestled in their little white paper cups, my all time favourite mille feuilles called out to me but I had to harden my heart, and there was the last palmier looking so lonely, just begging me to buy it.

“Une flûte” asked Jean of the lady, pointing to the thicker slightly shorter version of the baguette, and I had to tear myself away and follow him out of the shop, only just remembering my “Au revoir - merci” as I went.

We are just about to go out into the garden and plant the four celery plants which we bought in the Castries market this morning. The car park had suddenly filled up with trucks selling meat, cheese, olives and plants, and we are feeling so pleased with our initial harvest of beans that we are now moving into the big time.

There may be a special outing on the cards for tomorrow evening but I am waiting to see if we go and then I will tell you all about it. Bonsoir!