AUGUST - A DIFFERENT KIND OF LOCKDOWN

It has been incredibly hot here in the middle of France for most of July and August.

We have just had our fifth heatwave of the summer.

When the forecast says it's going to be 37°C it often turns out to be 39° or 40°.

That's very hard to live with.

We have learned to adjust.

Up early to get dog walking and other jobs done then stay indoors in the afternoon.

A friend described it as a different kind of lockdown.

Unlike 2020 we have been able to get out and about with a bit of careful planning.

The Paulmy brocante was early in the month.  It was buzzing.

I did buy a few things........more about them another time.

August is a time when a lot goes on and we have to find crafty ways of enjoying it in spite of the  baking hot weather.

At the beginning of the month we lashed out on a couple of extra outdoor tables so we could entertain a good number of our friends all at once, especially as we had been out of action for so long and me literally out of the country for over a month.  A lot of our friends are part timers - people who have second homes here and are only around for a few months of the year.  We didn't want to miss them.

It all began when a friend gave me a stack of matching plates that she no longer wanted.  There were twelve each of dinner plates, salad/dessert dishes and side plates.  I also spotted outdoor table cloths at less than half price (5€ each) in Centrakor.  Perfect for a large group.

We invited the crowd over one not so roastingly hot day.  Apéros were possible under the shade of our lime tree before moving over to the table for lunch.  The French for lime tree  or linden tree is tilleul.

Later that evening we went over to the next village, Barrou, for a very special concert.

Local singer/songwriter and musician Polo with his children and friends performed French and English songs under the shade of the linden trees at the restaurant called "Les Tilleuls".

It was a truly magical evening, rounding off a wonderful day.

Nick has managed to play golf a few times by going early in the morning.

That means I'm on dog walking that day, a joy in the cool of the morning at the lake at La Çelle-Guenand.

12th August was a very special day.

Never mind it being the "glorious twelfth", the start of the grouse shooting season, it was Eclipse Day.

We had invited a few friends round for dinner and a bit of an eclipse party.

It was so hot that we decided to eat indoors.

It was a cold menu, gazpacho soup, quiche, salads and raspberry trifle.

Armed with a few pairs of special eclipse glasses and a couple of colanders we braved the tremendous heat and stepped outside to enjoy the view.

We had set up an "observatory" for six people in the garden in the ideal spot to view the spectacle at the right moment.

To our complete amazement the colander trick worked.

To our disappointment at the critical moment the sun went behind not just the moon but a very inconvenient tree.

So we retired indoors to the cool of the house to continue with our dinner.

Two days later we were out again for a "moules et frites" evening.

We have been to a few of these over the years.

Trestle tables are set up outdoors to serves moules and chips to a large number of people.

On this occasion the music was provided by the rock band "Hot Doctors".

A very apt name considering the weather!

The moules were great, the music brilliant.

The dessert was delicious.  Apple tart.

And so the fun continues.

At the weekend we went to Montrésor for an art festival.

In theory the weather was cooling down a bit.

In reality, down by the river in all those little tents it was baking hot yet again.

Our pets are coping with the heat in their own way.

Yvonne has barely been into the house for weeks, preferring to find her own cool spots around the garden.

I gave Hugo a shower to fluff up his fur a bit and make him feel better.

He wasn't especially dirty but very gritty and full of seeds.

He's getting a haircut later today.

With Nick off to the golf course early yesterday morning I took Hugo to La Çelle-Guenand for his walk.

We were disappointed.  The gypsies had arrived en masse and taken up residence around the lake.

So we went a little further to the plan d'eau at Le Petit-Pressigny.

The hazy sunshine was much cooler and more comfortable, if a little weird.

It has been a difficult summer but, as my mum used to say,

"where there's a will, there's a way".

We have not missed out on much, in spite of the ridiculous heat.

A BIRTHDAY AND A NICE LUNCH

It was Hugo's birthday last week.

He is nine years old and still such a handsome boy.

This time last year there were four places to eat in the village.  

Chez Grandma closed at the end of last year.  The owners are hoping to sell it.

La Cabane was a short lived venture.

It was a bar come tapas style restaurant.  They held music evenings and served good food.

They closed last autumn when the owners moved on to other things.

Rumour has it that it has been sold to someone opening some kind of tearoom but there is no sign of any activity yet.

Brody's was immensely successful restaurant.

It closed in mid June and the new owners plan to re-open in September, I believe.

And so now we have just one place to eat in the village.  When we first came here it was called the Hotel Savoie-Villars.  We stayed there for a few nights when we very first moved here and have eaten there frequently over the years.  It has been through several owners with different styles and now it is called L'Auberge.

The owners post a lunchtime menu which changes every day and I check their Facebook page every so often to see if it's something we could fancy.  The evening menu is a-la-carte and sometimes a little too out of the ordinary for our taste but their lunchtime menus are excellent.  Hence we found ourselves eating there one day last week. 

Because they are now the only act in town, the tourist season in full swing and the weather good, they were very busy.  We made a last minute decision to go for lunch and arrived to find it already buzzing.  The waiter/co owner asked if we had reserved and when we said no he sucked in his cheeks, ummed and ahhed and found us a table in the courtyard.  He said we would have a bit of a wait.

He was true to his word and we waited twenty minutes to have our order taken but we were in no rush.  He offered us extra alternatives to the set menu du jour for starter and dessert.

My starter was a delicious gazpacho chilled soup served with anchovies.

Nick had tarama on toasts with a cabbage slaw.

We both had the main course of poached chicken in a curry sauce.

For dessert Nick had apricots roasted with honey and a boule of pistachio ice cream.

My dessert was a pear and apricot clafoutis with ice cream.

 All followed by a delicious espresso coffee.

Total bill for lunch including aperitifs and wine, 65€.

HONFLEUR, DAY THREE.

 

On day three, the last day of our little holiday, we went on a road trip and took Hugo with us.  After a slow morning start and Hugo’s usual walk we headed south to Pont-L’Évêque, the home of the famous cheese.

We remembered, many, many years ago, going on a day trip to London and having a guided tour by our friend Gerry, who knew London like the back of his hand.  A Derbyshire lad born and bred, he had been a student in London in the 1970’s and earned a bit of pocket money by leading tourists around the principal landmarks.  Later in life he gave up his teaching career to make his passion for tour guiding his main source of income and a great job he does too.

One of the places he took us to was a cheesemonger in Old Bond Street.  The shop was supplier of cheese, hams and wines to Buckingham Palace and we learned that the late Queen Elizabeth’s favourite cheeses were Livarot and Pont-L’Évêque, both fairly pungent cheeses from Normandy.

We had intended not to fall into the tourist lunch trap this time, being so far over €160 down for very disappointing food.  We thought we’d get a sandwich from the boulangerie then pick up supplies on the way home to cook our own dinner.  That’s when we stumbled across a small bar doing snack lunches and we went inside, with Hugo.  Even large dogs are welcomed in most French restaurants and these days Hugo is incredibly well behaved.  On top of that, standard poodles are not at all common in France, very much a novelty and he attracts much fuss and attention from everyone including restaurant staff.  He politely enjoyed a tickling of his topknot by the waitress while our orders were being taken.

And so, we had one of our favourites, croque monsieur, with a topping of Pont-L’Évêque cheese, excellent chips and salad for lunch.  With a refreshing panaché (shandy) and delicious coffee the total bill was €30.  Our faith in French restaurants was restored.  You just have to know where to go and how to avoid the tourist rip-off traps.

Back at the gîte, Nick cooked us a delicious pork and mushroom dish with fresh vegetables, a decent red wine to go with it, followed by our duo of local cheeses and a small glass of calvados, the other specialty of the region.  That’s how we spent our third and last evening, under the canopy for the bbq, listening to the pitter-patter of very welcome rain.

We played another game of Scrabble and this time Nick won, by a narrow margin.  We have reinstated our “championship du monde” where we have kept the score cards of all the games played all over Europe on our numerous holidays over decades.  It makes a good reminiscing read…."do you remember that time when you beat me at Scrabble on the campsite near San Gimignano?"  We now use French rules, where French and English words can be played.

The next day we had a good run back home and arrived soon enough to collect Yvonne from the cattery a day early.  She settled back in straight away.

The house was very warm inside.  We opened all the doors and windows to let in some air and watched as the sky grew greyer and rain began to fall.  The temperature dropped by about fifteen degrees and we stood in the doorway to feel the cool air and listen to the rain.  What a joy that was after weeks and weeks of endless hot weather.

HONFLEUR, DAYS ONE AND TWO.

Honfleur is a beautiful town with its art galleries, delicatessen shops and harbour full of boats.

It’s not so great on a roasting hot day when it’s rammed with visitors.

On day one of our three day holiday (four nights in a gîte) we headed into town completely forgetting that it was a French bank holiday (14th July).  We queued briefly for a non existent parking spot, thought better of it and turned around.   The whole of Paris and Rouen had clearly gone to the coast for the day.  The French do love a day by the seaside.

On the way back to the gîte we stopped at an American burger joint style of restaurant for lunch instead.  The starter was good (onion tart) but the main course (chicken caesar salad) not so good due to the tough and chewy bits of chicken.  The pichet of rosé was rather sour and the ice cream liegeois desserts (café for him, chocolate for me) didn’t tickle our tastebuds the way we had hoped.  The bill was over €80.  Oh well, you expect to pay a bit extra when you’re on holiday, we thought.

On day two of our three-daybreak we went back to Honfleur for a second attempt and were pleased to find a parking space straight away.  Knowing it would be hot and busy we left Hugo in the gîte with the back door to the enclosed garden open, thinking that having had a good walk early morning he could settle down with the ability to go outside if he needed to.

First impressions were good,  a delicious coffee in a café near the harbour was sensibly priced.  After that we had a wander around the delightful streets then explored the harbour for a restaurant for lunch.  We settled on one where we could enjoy the view of the boats under a shady canopy and placed our order.  

A pichet of ordinary (but at least drinkable) rosé was outrageously priced but we thought “what the heck, we’re on holiday”.  The starter we both ordered, oeufs en cocotte with Pont Leveque cheese could have been great if it hadn’t been overcooked.  It was impossible to dip the toast into the eggs because they were rock solid but still, it was tasty.

That’s the point at which things went seriously downhill.

I checked my phone and spotted a message from the gîte owner to say that Hugo had been “crying” since we left that morning.  That meant he was howling.  She was around every morning doing the cleaning and changeovers for the three separate gîtes on the plot.

It was too late to cancel our main course so we wolfed it down as fast as possible.  I had ordered fish and chips, Nick moules à la crème.  My fish turned out to be a dry, tasteless portion of supermarket battered fish with a pile of greasy, limp chips and a small spoonful of tartare sauce that looked like it came from a jar. So much for the restaurant’s claim that everything was “fait maison”.  Nick’s moules were lacking in herbs and garlic, slathered in cream that was grey.  Total bill €85.  It was probably, all in all, the worst meal for that amount of money we have ever had in France.  Plus €12 car parking.

We rushed back to the gîte, which was less than a ten minute drive away and parked at the bottom of the drive.  We thought that as soon as he heard the car, Hugo would stop howling so I crept towards the door to have a listen.  The poor dog was howling at the top of his lungs, that penetrating, wolf like piercing howl that a dogs do so well.  We were mortified.

We went on a drive around the area, taking him with us.  We explored the lovely little towns and villages, with their timber framed, thatch roofed cottages and the very grand big houses presumably the homes of the more well heeled.  It definitely is a lovely part of France.

We have not fallen out with Honfleur and will be back!

Later in the evening, back at the gîte, Nick cooked us a delicious meal of bolognaise style beef with vegetables, total cost probably about €15 maximum including a nice bottle of Montagne St Emilion.  We played Scrabble (I won) and decided we would definitely come back to Honfleur but more out of season next time.  That way we could explore the streets more comfortably, we could bring Hugo with us, and we would not be seduced by the promise of a lunch overlooking the harbour into paying tourist prices for a pretty grim meal.