The hill village of Corconne
The problem with having the internet working is that I am starting to sit for hours with the result that when I do get around to standing up, my bottom feels as though it has spread to cover the base of the reclining garden chair and my neck and shoulders are stiffening up from lack of exercise.
To think that four weeks ago we were desperate to get connected but in the meantime we were chopping, digging, painting and generally working hard, and now we have to call a halt long enough to ensure that the garden gets watered. I know that in time we will have caught up and then we can relax a bit and start to plot our day so that it also includes a bit of fun.
Speaking of fun, we have just nipped into Castries to buy some groceries and this time, we were determined to get our fresh fruit and vegetables from the open air market in the centre of town. This place of business has changed hands a few times since Jean used to stay here, and he can recall it being a petrol station, a winery and now the fruit and veg market. We had finished purchasing all our requirements and Jean had to go with the proprietor to the back to use the credit card machine. He came back looking rather pleased with himself.
“The old wine pumps are still there in the back” he announced. “I have no idea if they are still operating them but it all looks quite promising.
We nipped round to the supermarket to purchase the more mundane items like washing up liquid and breakfast cereal and then returned to the mystery wine pumps.
“Bonjour Monsieur, Madam” came a cheery greeting from a very suavely dressed gentleman who clearly ran this side of the operation.
Jean enquired about the pumps and to our delight, the owner not only assured us that they were working fine, but he raised a curtain to display a mound of empty 1 litre water bottles.
‘You fill as many as you like” he said, and like a pump jockey in America, he proceeded to squeeze the pump handle and fill up the bottle with a nice house rosé.
“That will be 2 euros 40c he said” and deposited the plastic water bottle into a plastic bag lest I should have to suffer the embarrassment of coming out of the wine shop with my bottle exposed to public view. It takes a lot more than that to embarrass me, as many of my friends and family will assure you, and tomorrow, we will return so that I can take some photographs. I might even take some of our small water bottles so that I can test drive some of the other vintages. It’s by far the best looking set of fuel pumps I have ever seen and I feel sure that if gas prices in America were the same, the world would be a far happier place.
We drove home the “scenic route” and stopped off to see what the advertising boards for “Aqua Fit” were all about. Sadly our search resulted in finding a very small indoor pool that was obviously designed for people to jump up and down in but not for swimming lengths. Having been incredibly spoiled at our condominium in Florida with a large pool which I made great use of, this certainly wasn’t going to cater to my needs.
We trundled slowly through the vineyards of St Jean de L”Arbousier, stopping to say hello to the two lovely horses which appear in one of the photos on the blog. The vines are so heavy with grapes that they are hanging down to the ground and with this heat, it must only be a matter of days before they start bringing them in.
I thought of our shopping trips in Aventura. Down 17 floors in the elevator, walk through the lobby trying to avoid the endlessly complaining occupants, collect the car from the car park, drive around Country Club Drive, straight to Publix Supermarket, shop, queue, pay, load and go straight back to the air conditioned apartment. No wine pumps, no farmers offloading their fresh plums and aubergines, no Camargue horses and no vineyards. We might have had blue skies, palm trees and big swimming pools, but I definitely know where I would rather be.
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