5 August 2011


Whilst we love having our little holiday home, there are things about the old way of spending our holidays that we miss.

We have slipped into a comfortable routine: drive straight there, ignoring the whole of northern France in order to get there as fast as possible, get settled in, do some shopping and sit on our little terrace absorbing the sights, sounds and smells of village life in rural France.

Nothing wrong with that.  But Angus’ post here reminded me of an incident that happened many years ago and I suddenly realised I do sometimes miss the excitement and adventure of our old holidays. 

They used to go like this: on Friday night, pile all our luggage on the motorcycles, using Nick’s championship skills to bungee tent, waterproofs and as many bags as possible onto any bit that he could, ride to the south coast, get on the first available ferry, dive into a cheap hotel for the night, get up the next morning and think “now where shall we go this year?”.


Such overnight stays often provided unexpected entertainment.  Such as the time we were awakened at 3am, having just got into our first floor room at 1am, by a huge commotion.  A car screeched to a halt beneath our window, a “lady” got out and immediately started shouting.  I think it was something like “YOU B*****D WHERE THE F**K ARE YOU”.  In French of course.

She was a clever woman.  All windows of all the rooms opened as people wished to express their annoyance at being disturbed (the French) or just have a nosey (the English).  Only one remained closed.

The argument continued for what seemed like hours.  It was interesting at first but it did go on a bit.  We concluded that the French do like a good, loud argument.  The “lady” got back in her car, slammed the door and screeched off, another female slipped out of the room, shoes and jacket in her hand, got into a taxi and left.  The next morning, as people packed their things into cars and headed off to start their holidays, a man was seen on the balcony outside his room, cooing and pleading softly into his mobile phone.  I don’t know which lady was on the other end but she was obviously not impressed as he was cut off mid-sentence and he held the phone at arm’s length, looking at it completely aghast.

We miss that kind of thing.  But not that much !!


  1. Now that's the kind of story that memories are made of. So perfectly told! I felt like I was there. (I would have been like one of the English, just having a nosy.)

  2. Classic soap opera stuff--great story. I would definitly have been in the nosy camp :-)!

  3. That's a great story. That guy got was due I think.

  4. Oh yes I'd be up and about seeing what was going on! Nothing like a good domestic as long as it's not your own!

  5. Um, well, yes.
    A fascinating story. But I can imagine your not wanting to experience that too often.
    That's the one thing about a second "chez nous." I tends to limit one's focus a bit.

  6. Ha ha. I am quite envious of my neighbor each year. He is, as I type this, just travelling around with his wife and two kids just going where they feel like it with no plans in their campavan. They have no worries as I look after the house/garden and cats while they are gone! Diane

  7. Just this morning I was thinking
    how grateful I am to you for
    calling attention to Angus' blog.
    It's first call for me every a.m.
    I have a lot of chuckles and often
    have to blink back a few tears
    for dear Wilf.

  8. Ah, now a mystery trip is an appealing idea. I might just do doing something similar today...just go where the fancy takes us.

    So, the man was messing with his sister's girlfriend , eh, and his sister was outside the hotel 'discretely' looking for her? :)