Welcome back to the Frog Blog for what is likely going to be a long entry, so I’d best get stuck right in. We had a really lovely afternoon round Philippe’s last Friday. There were about 15 of us including kids and though it was mostly overcast, it was pleasantly warm so we were out in the garden the whole time. In fact, despite the cloud, Matt and I both got quite burnt – something that feels hard to believe given how atrocious the weather has been since. Typically for a meal at Philippe’s, the aperitif portion lasted several hours and it was only when we all started to grumble that food was served. We had a BBQ and various side dishes made by the invitees. Dessert was crêpes provided by Gael, a native of Brittany, where they are a speciality dish.
Knowing we had band practise that evening, we tried to be sensible and left around 6pm to sober up and chill out beforehand. The practise itself was typical – it started late and little was achieved. At midnight, just as we were leaving, Alain dropped a rather large and unpleasant bombshell on us. He told us we need to add an additional 7 songs to our upcoming gig with the dancers, which we’ll perform while they get changed for their next act. He explained they had to be songs we can do really well as in fact, this event is a gala evening for 200 people, all of whom are paying 12€ to see us. This concert has had disaster written all over it from the start, so finding out that attendance isn’t free, and that it will be a large crowd too, is very unwelcome news. He was wise to keep that from us for as long as possible as we’re furious about it.
The following afternoon, we had a rehearsal here at Port 80 for our local gig at Jenny’s. This went mostly fine, but we’ve got around 6 or so songs that definitely need more work, so we’ll try and concentrate on these for our next few rehearsals. There was further upset for our already-traumatised cats as one of the singers, Roxanne, showed up with two young girls, so they had to flee.
A note on the pusses at this point: since the UK trip, they’ve been in a delicate emotional state: we’ve been out a lot since our return and the weather’s been crap too. The result of this has been poor sleep for us. Sméagol is permanently by my side (he’s curled up next to me as I write this) and spends all night on the bed taking up my leg-room. Worse still is the normally independent Louis who really took our recent trip badly. Unfortunately for us, his way of saying “please don’t go again” is to bring us dead mice. Even more unfortunate is that this tends to start at around 5 am and often involves multiple gifts. His recent record was 4 separate mice, of which the last one was brought back to us twice more after being thrown out.
So since getting back, we’ve been running a sleep deficit and have been repeatedly denied a lie-in (which the French call a “Grasse Matinée”, or “fat morning” . And no, I don’t know why they call it that.)
Right, I’ve not even got to the big story of the week and this is already long, so a very brief work roundup: Matt’s big project in the states went live on Tuesday, and all without a hitch too. He’s already got another one lined up, although this one will be smaller. For me, it’s been depressingly quiet despite the fact I’ve over half a dozen sites on the go. However, this looks set to pick up again as a few clients have started to make contact again. To my endless surprise, this includes my dreaded wedding planner client, whose site has been under construction since december 2014. And of course, she now wants it by 01 june…
Ok, on to our recent trip! Organised by Milhac Loisirs, this was an overnight trip to Rocamadour. There were 10 of us in the group, with Matt and I and Barry and Carol making up the english contingency and the rest being French. Group trips can quickly get irritating, but luckily, all members of the group are really lovely people. The only small exception is Nicole, a woman who boasts the very unfortunate combination of being both bilingual and also in love with the sound of her own voice. As it turned out though, even she was mostly tolerable.
Rocamadour is a 2.5h drive south and east from us, in the Lot department. If you’ve not heard of it before, it is a clifftop town overlooking a valley carved by a tributary of the Dordogne. At the top of the cliff is a complex of several churches and monasteries that have existed since the 1500s, but were all destroyed in the Wars of Religion. The site was abandoned for centuries before being restored in the 19th century. Due to its location at a crossroads on several different pilgrim trails, it is a site of major significance to christians. Rocamadour is also the 3rd most popular tourist destination in France (beaten only by the Eiffel Tower and Mont St. Michel in Normandy).
We set off at 9am, carpooling with Barry and Carol, and had a pleasant and unremarkable drive. We arrived at around lunch time, milled around aimlessly for a bit and then ate. Afterwards, we made our way to the top for our guided tour of the old churches. We had a brilliant tour guide who was very entertaining, and spoke nice and slowly for the benefit of the anglophones in our party. She was also quite clearly an atheist and so was amusingly tongue-in-cheek when it came to recounting some of the more farcical legends about the place.
After the tour, we continued to explore the site by ourselves for another hour or so. Next up, we hit a bird sanctuary also situated up on the cliff-top. I hate the sight of caged birds – it just seems exceptionally cruel to me – but we learned that all the birds they house there are endangered and are bred to be released into the wild. As well as getting to see lots of amazing birds like eagles, vultures, parrots and owls in their cages, we also got to see two different shows. The first was with the raptors, some of which were breathtakingly big. After a short break, the second show started. This was the owl show. Confusingly, there are two words for owl in French – “hibou” and “chouette” – whereas in english we group them together. As far as I can work out, the main difference is that hibous have those earlike crests on their heads whereas chouettes are round-headed. Incidentally, and to add to the confusion, “chouette” also means “great” or “nice”.
The owl show was really interesting too, but by this point in the day, the already naff weather took a turn for the worse and it began to rain. The man giving the talk about the owls had already stressed the importance of not startling the birds, so we were under strict instructions to sit still and not make any noise. This included not putting up umbrellas too, so we all had to sit stoically through the show while shivering in the rain.
Afterwards, we went to check into our lodgings. This was the only real low point of the trip. Josiane had managed to find us a gite offering evening meal, shared rooms and breakfast all for the amazing price of 30€ a person. With prices so low, there had to be some form of catch, and indeed there was. The rooms themselves were fine, although our group of 10 plus a separate group of 4 had to fit into just three rooms so it was a little crowded – but still tolerable for one night.
It was only when we sat down to eat that we discovered that the name of the gite “Gite des Pèlerins”, or “Pilgrims’ Gite” was more than just a touristy reference to the history of Rocamadour. When the soup arrived, the gite’s owner stood up and essentially started preaching at us. He began with the history of Rocamadour, and his account differed significantly from our tour guide’s version. To be fair, he was generally quite pleasant, but as the meal went on it became more obvious that a) he wasnt going to stop and b) despite his initial claim to be just generally spiritual, he was in fact very much a christian. Nicole didnt help matters by asking him questions, each one of which generated a new sermon. It was when a little islamophobia crept to his diatribe that I really lost my patience, but luckily by this point the meal was over in any case.
Most of our party are early risers, so were getting ready for bed despite it being only 9,30. Josiane, Matt and I had other ideas and hit the town in search of a bar. Luckily we did find one and had a well-needed cleanser. We’d also bought some wine with us so we sat down in the lounge area of the gite for another hour or so when we got back, and listened to the various different snorers above, trying to work out whose rooms they were in. We went to bed around midnight and slept fine, but only until daybreak as there were no curtains on the window. This was probably for the best in any case as breakfast was served from 7-8am. It was mercifully free of sermons too.
Afterwards, we explored some of the surrounding villages that our preacher-cum-host recommended. These included Bretenoux, a very small town with an impressive-looking chateau, and Loubressac which, like several villages in the Dordogne, has the official designation “L’un des plus beaux villages de France”.
We returned to Rocamadour for lunch where we ate in a decent restaurant that boasted superb views over the valley and the town itself. Afterwards we began our return journey. We had one stop-off point en route: the town of Collanges-le-Rouge in the Corrèze department. This was if anything even busier than Rocamadour had been, but it was easy to see why – it’s very beautiful indeed with its red-stone buildings and cobbled streets. Beautiful as it was, we realised that there’s only so many pretty towns you can visit before it starts to get repetitive, so after a wonder around we were very keen to get home. About 20 minutes into the journey, we broke ranks and left the other 2 cars to plod back at their own pace. We got on the motorway and made much better time, arriving home at 7pm, AKA cocktail hour.
We’d had bad weather down south but it was even worse in the Dordogne, where it had rained incessantly (and indeed, still is now). So our two already-traumatised cats were especially clingy upon our return. Luckily for us though, they both opted to spend all night on the bed rather than go out and bring us mice, so we finally got our fat morning and slept till 9.30. And that was the story of that.