There have been more practical implications of the partial census, other than the poor old mayors monthly non-pay check. First I must explain a bit about the local council structure. A number of Communes (villages or small towns, rather like Parish councils in the UK) make up a Canton, which is centred on the largest unit. Round here we refer to this as the town (which has a population of about 5000).
We are blessed with a Canton council that are very environmentally concious, they have already changed the name of the Parks Department to "The Green Brigade" and now as they are responsible for waste collection and disposal they have been very quick to pick up on the European Directives requiring selective waste collection and recycling.
They, the council, have decided to provide 2 containers one for papers and the other for cardboard,tins and plastics. These they will collect alternate weeks and to save a special collection have had the carts converted so that the special collection goes in one side and general rubbish in the other. Clever really!
This is all hearsay because I haven't been issued with the 2 special containers and it's here that the row about the census re-raises its head. At the same time that the village population increased from 184 to 210 the count showed that the number of occupied houses increased from 73 to 84. BUT the powers that be can't accept that to be the case until 2011 ! So they have only issued containers for 73 households, presumably, me and 10 others will have to wait till then for ours.
Interestingly, an albeit partial, telephone survey that I have conducted reveals the amazing coincidence that it's the English and Dutch households that haven't been issued with containers!!
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
What am I doing here ?
What am I doing here ? It's a long story which began over 20 years ago when the organisation I worked for was taken over. The new bosses soon began a clear-out, offering most people over 50 a redundancy package. It soon became apparent that this was to be a continuing process and both my late wife, who also worked there, and me might be living on borrowed time !
We had 3 years in which to prepare for a work less future, and decided we would make a complete break and explore the feasibility of living abroad; so we spent our holidays looking at various European countries, quickly settling on France.
When our turns did in fact come in 1990 we had settled on the Perigord region (which is next to that much beloved by Brits.-Dordogne). I was pretty pissed at being thrown on the scrapheap at 50 but knowing that pensioners are secured creditors and frozen pension holders weren't, I decided to take an early retirement and redundancy offer. As did the wife.
In those days the take-over merchants were known as "Asset Strippers", then came "Pension Raiders" and now we have "Venture Capital", different labels but it all boils down to the same thing- to make a quick killing at the expense of other (usually little)peoples lives. Still we had a choice,which we both took and I have to concede neither of us ever regretted it.
We set off armed with a wedge of redundancy money and my French "O" level (circa 1956)arriving in Perigeaux, the capital of the region, on our late spring bank holiday (which isn't a french hol.). We went into an estate agent to find ourselves at the back of a queue of 5 English couples. Having friends in Spain, who live in a sort of English enclave, we didn't fancy the idea of living in a Little England, so we jumped in the car and drove 200 miles South towards the foothills of the Pyrenees.
During the journey we passed from the area where the purchaser pays the estate agents fees into that where the vendor pays the agents commission, saving 10% for the cost of half a tank of petrol. As I continue this occaisional series I intend to offer advice to potential purchasers in France on the pitfalls in the system and thats a good one i.e. check who pays the fees
We had 3 years in which to prepare for a work less future, and decided we would make a complete break and explore the feasibility of living abroad; so we spent our holidays looking at various European countries, quickly settling on France.
When our turns did in fact come in 1990 we had settled on the Perigord region (which is next to that much beloved by Brits.-Dordogne). I was pretty pissed at being thrown on the scrapheap at 50 but knowing that pensioners are secured creditors and frozen pension holders weren't, I decided to take an early retirement and redundancy offer. As did the wife.
In those days the take-over merchants were known as "Asset Strippers", then came "Pension Raiders" and now we have "Venture Capital", different labels but it all boils down to the same thing- to make a quick killing at the expense of other (usually little)peoples lives. Still we had a choice,which we both took and I have to concede neither of us ever regretted it.
We set off armed with a wedge of redundancy money and my French "O" level (circa 1956)arriving in Perigeaux, the capital of the region, on our late spring bank holiday (which isn't a french hol.). We went into an estate agent to find ourselves at the back of a queue of 5 English couples. Having friends in Spain, who live in a sort of English enclave, we didn't fancy the idea of living in a Little England, so we jumped in the car and drove 200 miles South towards the foothills of the Pyrenees.
During the journey we passed from the area where the purchaser pays the estate agents fees into that where the vendor pays the agents commission, saving 10% for the cost of half a tank of petrol. As I continue this occaisional series I intend to offer advice to potential purchasers in France on the pitfalls in the system and thats a good one i.e. check who pays the fees
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Intrepid Hunters
Sunday,early morning,was bright, crisp and clear; pretty cold but you can't have everything. The hunt was out in force, as I was walking the dog, rumour has it that it's safest to keep dog on a lead as there's not much game about these days and frustration can set in.
They are on a drive for "big game" which round here would be wild boar or deer. Not the great highland type stags, it's much too wooded round here for their great antlers. The locals call them chevreuils which translates as roe deer but to my, albeit, townie eye, they seem too small even for that and are probably montjacs In any event both species are in very short supply round here and they are only permitted to hunt them once a month in season, and you don't hear many shots when walking.
Despite the lack of prey the intrepid hunters take the hunt very seriously and dress for the occasion, complete head to foot camouflage and combat boots. Unfortuneately over the years the camoflage has proved so effective that they occasionly shoot each so now they have to wear dayglow waistcoats and caps. I think most mammals only see in black and white so no damage, as they probably only see day glow grey!
They are on a drive for "big game" which round here would be wild boar or deer. Not the great highland type stags, it's much too wooded round here for their great antlers. The locals call them chevreuils which translates as roe deer but to my, albeit, townie eye, they seem too small even for that and are probably montjacs In any event both species are in very short supply round here and they are only permitted to hunt them once a month in season, and you don't hear many shots when walking.
Despite the lack of prey the intrepid hunters take the hunt very seriously and dress for the occasion, complete head to foot camouflage and combat boots. Unfortuneately over the years the camoflage has proved so effective that they occasionly shoot each so now they have to wear dayglow waistcoats and caps. I think most mammals only see in black and white so no damage, as they probably only see day glow grey!
Saturday, November 24, 2007
The Census (French Style)
As in the UK, we have a census here every 10 years; the last one being in 2001 when the population of the village was 184. Now some clever spark in the higher echelons of Government has come up with a quintessentially french cost saving idea.
The idea is that, if they conduct a census of 10% of the country, every year, over a 10 year period, the cost will be less than doing a full census every 10 years. The logic somewhat eludes me as 10 x 10% =100 ! But then I'm not french !
It so happens that the village fell within the first 10% tranch and the informal (you will see later why I use that word) results show that our population has increased to 210 since 2001, due to a number of new builds and the renovation of derelicts. In french local government circles 200 is a magic number. It confers more powers on the commune, a larger share of the Taxe d'Habitation and most important, a monthly salary for the Mayor! (last time I saw reference to the pay of the Mayor of a small commune it was about 2000 francs (£200) and that was perhaps 10 years ago).
There was wide spread expectation that the results of the mini census would be formal from the date they were published but no, the idea of the clever spark at the higher echelons of Government had been to spread the (reduced?) cost of the census over 10 years NOT the results themselves. So our population won't officially be 210 until the year 2011.
So our Mayor, who only receives an honorarium, supported by the council, are up in arms that the new population and therefore the monthly £200 won't be official until the year 2011 !
The idea is that, if they conduct a census of 10% of the country, every year, over a 10 year period, the cost will be less than doing a full census every 10 years. The logic somewhat eludes me as 10 x 10% =100 ! But then I'm not french !
It so happens that the village fell within the first 10% tranch and the informal (you will see later why I use that word) results show that our population has increased to 210 since 2001, due to a number of new builds and the renovation of derelicts. In french local government circles 200 is a magic number. It confers more powers on the commune, a larger share of the Taxe d'Habitation and most important, a monthly salary for the Mayor! (last time I saw reference to the pay of the Mayor of a small commune it was about 2000 francs (£200) and that was perhaps 10 years ago).
There was wide spread expectation that the results of the mini census would be formal from the date they were published but no, the idea of the clever spark at the higher echelons of Government had been to spread the (reduced?) cost of the census over 10 years NOT the results themselves. So our population won't officially be 210 until the year 2011.
So our Mayor, who only receives an honorarium, supported by the council, are up in arms that the new population and therefore the monthly £200 won't be official until the year 2011 !
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
A New Coat
The eldest grandson is 14 and big with it, weighing in at over 14 stone (90 Kilos). This summer he used part of his summer holiday pocket money to buy a winter coat in the hyper-market. I was quite impressed with it and said so,as I can't stand multi coloured stripey things. Further I won't wear things with 3 bars,ticks,little people or even crocodiles, certainly would never pay for a garment with a logo on.
AND YES!!! I was one of those annoying people, who, when asked to pay for a shopping bag, delayed the queue in the supermarket by turning them inside out, whilst muttering about "not paying for gratuitous advertising".
Anyway, back to the summer, as the 2 boys were getting their things into the car on the way to the airport I said to the eldest " Ere! you've forgotten your new coat" "No" he said "Mum said she'll take us to get new winter coats when we get home and I don't want to upset her! You can have it."
So in this cold spell I've been wearing my new coat, Black, no stripes, colours or badges of any sort, perfect. Apart from one thing I noticed this morning for the first time; it buttons up the wrong way. It's a ladies coat !!! So thats why he didn't want to wear it to school!
By co-incidence my previous new coat was also a free-bee. Order 2 items from the mail order catalogue and get a luxurious winter coat free! So I ordered 2 packs of Tea Towels, which duly arrived with the coat, which met all the criteria, single colour,no badges etc. Only the one small snag, the buttons were on the wrong side! Yes, obviously only ladies order Tea Towels.
I take slight consolation from the fact that I am the only early morning dog walker in the village with a choice of winter coats to wear when no-one else can see us!
AND YES!!! I was one of those annoying people, who, when asked to pay for a shopping bag, delayed the queue in the supermarket by turning them inside out, whilst muttering about "not paying for gratuitous advertising".
Anyway, back to the summer, as the 2 boys were getting their things into the car on the way to the airport I said to the eldest " Ere! you've forgotten your new coat" "No" he said "Mum said she'll take us to get new winter coats when we get home and I don't want to upset her! You can have it."
So in this cold spell I've been wearing my new coat, Black, no stripes, colours or badges of any sort, perfect. Apart from one thing I noticed this morning for the first time; it buttons up the wrong way. It's a ladies coat !!! So thats why he didn't want to wear it to school!
By co-incidence my previous new coat was also a free-bee. Order 2 items from the mail order catalogue and get a luxurious winter coat free! So I ordered 2 packs of Tea Towels, which duly arrived with the coat, which met all the criteria, single colour,no badges etc. Only the one small snag, the buttons were on the wrong side! Yes, obviously only ladies order Tea Towels.
I take slight consolation from the fact that I am the only early morning dog walker in the village with a choice of winter coats to wear when no-one else can see us!
Monday, November 19, 2007
Baby it's cold outside
It's cold inside too and has been for a couple of weeks now. Bizarrely I'm sitting out in the sun at lunch time, taking my apero and going indoors to light the log fire when I eat. There's this myth that old stone houses with their 2 foot thick walls are "cool in summer and warm in winter". Whilst there's some truth in the first part, with their overhanging eves and shutters pulled across to keep the sun off the glass, don't believe for an instant the warm in winter bit. Once it's cold it's bloody cold and the fire takes ages to heat it.
The temperature levels aren't helped by the fact that I've tried to preserve as many of the original features as possible so I've left a number of the old doors and windows in place and the best that can be said of them is that they fit where they touch. Oh! for the joys and comforts of the PVC double glazing.
The temperature levels aren't helped by the fact that I've tried to preserve as many of the original features as possible so I've left a number of the old doors and windows in place and the best that can be said of them is that they fit where they touch. Oh! for the joys and comforts of the PVC double glazing.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Dirty Dog
Probably disgusting is more appropriate than dirty because my gold-en-re-tri-ver has a voracious appetite for shit, all types of shit, except that is, for dog shit. It's a habit that I've tried to break using pepper or tabasco sauce on selected turds but all that happens is that she takes one sniff and walks away, waits until the next rainfall washes away the offending condiment and THEN eats the shit.
There is some small element of preference and certainly cat shit is a favourite, this she can scent and pounce on much quicker than I can react to attempt to stop her. This means I've had to fence off half the garden to separate the feral cats (after I'd driven them out of the barns) from the dog. After cats would come horse dung and cow pats followed by other small mammals like badgers and hedgehogs
This whole process is really upsetting and I get very worked up about it, so much so that, even though I have a slightly dodgy knee, I have stopped taking a stick on the morning walks. I am frightened that I will lose my temper to such an extent that I might hurt her with it. There has been much publicity over the years about outbreaks of road rage or air rage but I am a walking epidemic of turd rage.
I have to organise the morning walks round this problem and I have a large walking map of the district on a pin-board in the kitchen onto which I put coloured pins to mark the location of different types of excrement so that I can avoid the danger areas. Red is cow-pat, blue,horse dung and yellow for badger pits and other small mammal shit. This gives a constantly shifting multi-coloured abstract of shape and form, especially in the summer months as the sun rapidly leaches the goodness out of the various deposits rendering them unpalatable and then a thunderstorm will temporarily refresh and tenderise the dried pile.
Strangely no-one has ever offered to purchase this work of art!
Probably the most unsavorary aspect of this habit is the dogs love for human faeces, these are not generally widely available to the dog except, as now, in the hunting season. You may have noted that I don't allocate a colour on my pin-board when a human has dumped, this is because there is usually other evidence indicating the location there-of. There are normally sheets of toilet paper wafting across the path; obviously the perps have regular movements, possibly due to the healthy gamey diet they consume and come prepared with paper.
What I can't understand is why is the paper always pink? It's such a girlie colour for such a manly pass-time.
There is some small element of preference and certainly cat shit is a favourite, this she can scent and pounce on much quicker than I can react to attempt to stop her. This means I've had to fence off half the garden to separate the feral cats (after I'd driven them out of the barns) from the dog. After cats would come horse dung and cow pats followed by other small mammals like badgers and hedgehogs
This whole process is really upsetting and I get very worked up about it, so much so that, even though I have a slightly dodgy knee, I have stopped taking a stick on the morning walks. I am frightened that I will lose my temper to such an extent that I might hurt her with it. There has been much publicity over the years about outbreaks of road rage or air rage but I am a walking epidemic of turd rage.
I have to organise the morning walks round this problem and I have a large walking map of the district on a pin-board in the kitchen onto which I put coloured pins to mark the location of different types of excrement so that I can avoid the danger areas. Red is cow-pat, blue,horse dung and yellow for badger pits and other small mammal shit. This gives a constantly shifting multi-coloured abstract of shape and form, especially in the summer months as the sun rapidly leaches the goodness out of the various deposits rendering them unpalatable and then a thunderstorm will temporarily refresh and tenderise the dried pile.
Strangely no-one has ever offered to purchase this work of art!
Probably the most unsavorary aspect of this habit is the dogs love for human faeces, these are not generally widely available to the dog except, as now, in the hunting season. You may have noted that I don't allocate a colour on my pin-board when a human has dumped, this is because there is usually other evidence indicating the location there-of. There are normally sheets of toilet paper wafting across the path; obviously the perps have regular movements, possibly due to the healthy gamey diet they consume and come prepared with paper.
What I can't understand is why is the paper always pink? It's such a girlie colour for such a manly pass-time.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Toulouse did lose
So after all the stress and vacillation I finally made it to the match only to see them lose. A strange experience in this vast 50 thousand seater stadium filled with only about 10 thousand fans, with their voices echoing round the empty concrete. TFC, whom I had thought I would be supporting in the future, were 2-0 up with 20mins to go and seemingly likely to score more, when they completely lost concentration and gave away 2 soft goals in 2 minutes and then a third at last knockings. Not, I think, an experience I will repeat !
Despite the game it was a day full of experiences; firstly an excellent late lunch in an italian restaurant, where-in I nearly treated myself to a bottle of Barolo, but as the price at 39.90 was only 10 cents less than my ticket I thought it a bit too extravagant and settled for Chianti instead !
The real drama came in the hotels underground car-park and was caused by the receptionist; in common with most french people who speak pretty good english they insist on speaking it when they recognise a "roast beef" murdering their beautiful language, as did she. But there are certain nuances that they can miss. For example she asked me if I had a BIG car, which I haven't, but I do have a TALL or HIGH car, which with the roof bars (fitted as standard) on, got jammed under the low roof !
A dilema easily solved as long as one can exit the said jammed vehicle, unfortuneatly the entry ramps as well as being very low were also very narrow. So like an utter prick I had to sit there till two fucking americans arrived but as we're helping them out in Irag they helpfully opened the hatch back so I could climb out over the seats. This was no mean feat for an old fart of my age, excessive bulk and minimal level of agility.
I let the tyres down (as it turned out) to about half pressure and after re-entering in similar fashion was able to get the car to a space, luckily it turned out that there was a service station in the next street, which next morning after (I was going to say hair-raising but it was more an embarrassing) 50 metre drive the wrong way down a one way street I was able to restore correct pressures without any damage to the tyres.
I don't think I shall be going back to that particular hotel ever again in case they recognise me
Despite the game it was a day full of experiences; firstly an excellent late lunch in an italian restaurant, where-in I nearly treated myself to a bottle of Barolo, but as the price at 39.90 was only 10 cents less than my ticket I thought it a bit too extravagant and settled for Chianti instead !
The real drama came in the hotels underground car-park and was caused by the receptionist; in common with most french people who speak pretty good english they insist on speaking it when they recognise a "roast beef" murdering their beautiful language, as did she. But there are certain nuances that they can miss. For example she asked me if I had a BIG car, which I haven't, but I do have a TALL or HIGH car, which with the roof bars (fitted as standard) on, got jammed under the low roof !
A dilema easily solved as long as one can exit the said jammed vehicle, unfortuneatly the entry ramps as well as being very low were also very narrow. So like an utter prick I had to sit there till two fucking americans arrived but as we're helping them out in Irag they helpfully opened the hatch back so I could climb out over the seats. This was no mean feat for an old fart of my age, excessive bulk and minimal level of agility.
I let the tyres down (as it turned out) to about half pressure and after re-entering in similar fashion was able to get the car to a space, luckily it turned out that there was a service station in the next street, which next morning after (I was going to say hair-raising but it was more an embarrassing) 50 metre drive the wrong way down a one way street I was able to restore correct pressures without any damage to the tyres.
I don't think I shall be going back to that particular hotel ever again in case they recognise me
Monday, November 5, 2007
The Marathon
Yesterday was the day of the villages annual marathon race and it meant that my normal access to the footpaths was blocked off to allow the entrants a warm-up area. For the morning walk it was necessary to drive round and through another village to get to the footpaths. On the way back they were setting up a refreshment point at the half way mark and laying out tresle tables with paper cups to be filled with water,soft drinks or sports drinks.
This being France, on the corner of one table there was a bloke busily opening bottles of wine!
Part of the route the runners took covered the same footpath I walked that morning and I followed the distance markers to prove that the walk from the Metro station to the football ground is easily undertaken, so I shall book a hotel near the Metro. Problem solved I hope
This being France, on the corner of one table there was a bloke busily opening bottles of wine!
Part of the route the runners took covered the same footpath I walked that morning and I followed the distance markers to prove that the walk from the Metro station to the football ground is easily undertaken, so I shall book a hotel near the Metro. Problem solved I hope
Friday, November 2, 2007
From The Ridiculous To Toulouse
My head hurts. Got taken out for a curry lunch today and learnt that there is an hotel within walking distance of the stadium. It's about the same distance as the metro station of yesterdays plan, but I'm not certain if the route passes an early eatery ! The same source also informed me that all the parking near the stadium is free. She has been to the exhibition centre, which is on the same island (did I ever say that the stadium is on an island in the centre of the river?) and knows these things.
My head still hurts and I haven't the faintest idea what to do next or where to book an hotel; the way things are I'm going to end up missing the game.
AND the curry was crap
AND I didn't have the bottle to say so
My head still hurts and I haven't the faintest idea what to do next or where to book an hotel; the way things are I'm going to end up missing the game.
AND the curry was crap
AND I didn't have the bottle to say so
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Another Day Another solution
Following yesterdays abortive search for first parking space and then hotel accommodation within walking distance of the TFC stadium I had a thought that could lead to a jolly wheeze. "What if I find a hotel with parking/garage facilities near a METRO STATION that connects to the one near the stadium??" This is just about within (my) walking distance.
Over recent years Toulouse has been developing an underground METRO system and earlier this year opened the second line. Unlike London with its mix of the pragmatic (Circle line) and the romantic (Bakerloo) names the Toulousians have immaginatively named them "line A" and "line B".
I shall be searching the internet for hotels on "line B" later.
Over recent years Toulouse has been developing an underground METRO system and earlier this year opened the second line. Unlike London with its mix of the pragmatic (Circle line) and the romantic (Bakerloo) names the Toulousians have immaginatively named them "line A" and "line B".
I shall be searching the internet for hotels on "line B" later.
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