Grave matters - Toussaint

“During this bank holiday, French people traditionally pay tribute to their relatives but La Toussaint (French All Saints) is also today a good opportunity to get together and spend time with the family. Visiting cemeteries and bringing flowers to the graves of their loved ones is now part of French people's All Saints traditions. November the 1st is indeed a national Jour Férié in France, meaning that most of the shops, restaurants, schools and companies are closed. La Toussaint (All Saints Day), although deeply rooted in the Catholic religion, is actually widely respected in France and has given rise to a few customs. Generally speaking, French people like to attend the All Saints Mass to remember the Catholic Saints as well as honour their late relatives. Then they usually take the advantage of this bank day to visit some cemetery and lay down a symbolic bunch of flowers at gravesites as sign of honour. On November 1st it is a common sight to see French people laying chrysanthemums or wreaths of immortelles (everlasting flowers) on the graves of loved ones. Chrysanthemums are indeed so closely linked to La Toussaint that the French never give them as a gift.” (Thanks to http://www.french-property.com for the information). So what does this mean? Well some of the supermarkets are selling arrangements of plastic flowers, small plaques with appropriate messages on and bouquets of real flowers. Everything in fact, that the grave visitor might need.
The local cemetery in the commune in which I work has been tidying up over the last few months.

 The interior cemetery walls have jet washed, the gravel on the ground has been topped up, and people have been tidying up the graves of their loved ones. Even the Jesuses have been given a lick of paint.

Of course some of the older graves remain uncared for, the plastic flowers faded to a dirty off-white colour, or with no flowers or ornaments left at all. Little white notices on these graves inform us that unless someone claims responsibility for the upkeep of the grave soon, the plot will be cleared to make room for a new occupant.

Here then are a selection of graves for you to admire.

The graveyard has magnificent views of the surrounding hills and the snow-capped Pyrenees some 40 kms. away, can be seen in the distance.

Back in the USSR

I decided to sneak back across the border into the UK for Christmas and New Year. I had it all worked out. Flights booked, lifts arranged.

By chance I went on the Internet early in the morning on the day of my departure. A brief look at Toulouse airport flights showed me that planes seemed to be arriving and departing as per normal, with only one flight cancelled. I was going to leave it at that, but something made me click on page 4, where my flight was listed. Cancelled. Well that was okay then.


CAncELLED!! There must be some mistake. On to the EasyJet website and I got a message that said that my flight had been cancelled due to the weather.


We had had about an inch of snow a few days before, and I know that Bristol had not snow. I managed to change my flight to the following day, but this meant that I would not be able to catch my next flight, Bristol to Inverness as I would not arrive in Bristol in time.


I should have just left my Inverness flight alone, but I changed it to a date later in the year. Admin charge £50. As it turned out the flight was cancelled very close to departure, so I would have been able to transfer it to another date for free.....


In the event it was lucky that I did not get to Inverness, as the airport remained closed for many days and only reopened the day that I flew back to France. The papers carried a story of a lighthouse-keeper’s wife who had gone to Inverness to buy a turkey for Christmas dinner, who was still stranded in Inverness 15 days later.


Half way through the holiday, S knackered her back so more travelling was not an option. Fortunately we had managed to visit the Clark's Village shopping outlet at Street, before her back went, and also a trip to Dunelm (soft furnishings) and PCWorld (1.5 Tb external drive) so the essential shopping was covered.


The flight back to France was uneventful, except that we arrived about 2 hours late. The plane had had to find cabin crew from other flights to man our plane. Then the baggage took 35 minutes to arrive......


I hate driving in the dark. At least it wasn’t snowing or raining.


Which reminds me. There are all sorts of madness in this world, and a lot of it happens in the UK. Every New year’s day the life saving club at Clevedon, put on their Victorian swimming gear and take a dip in the sea.


This year was no exception and I met up with H and D by the Marine lake to watch human ice cubes being made. They were about 10 minutes late coming out of the pub, where they had got changed. This was very inconsiderate as I had not put on a hat, scarf or gloves, it was freezing cold, and there was a biting breeze.


They marched out of the pub and down to where we were standing. It was time for them to have a sing-song. Then it was time to sing Auld lang Syne.

Would they ever get into the sea so that we could return home to thaw out?

Then they set off towards the sea and entered the dirty water of the Bristol Channel which was glinting invitingly in the sunshine. The water looked blue. The day before it had been its usual muddy brown colour. The hills in the background are in Wales, the other side of the Bristol Channel.

The photos above were taken by D and H as my camera batteries died.  To see 12 photos taken by the local newspaper look here

Happy New Year everyone!

I am slightly miffed that the UK government did not offer me £3k to leave the country. If I had been Albanian it would probably have been a different story. Am I a victim of discrimination?

Fish n'pish

I was tired when I added last night’s blog and I omitted a couple of photos that I took in Banyuls. Like many churches there was a bell tower. Big wows! I hear you say, but the tower had not one, but 4 bells and the bell tower was outside the church building. I don’t know if the bells are rung by pulling on ropes, but I doubt it. I wonder what the scrap value of a bell might be…

The other thing we noticed whilst pounding the streets was the down pipes for rainwater from the roofs of the houses. The majority ended with pottery fish heads. Perhaps they are supposed to be anchovies? Some ended just above pavement height, but many ended at waist height. My advice would therefore be, if you don’t want to get drenched whilst walking along a street in a downpour, make sure that you walk in the middle of the road. Better safe than sorry and soaking.

The next stop on our homeward journey was the small but famous fishing port of Collioure. Anchovy fishing is one of the major industries here, although we did not see any sign of the small fish during our visit. Collioure is a very picturesque, trendy place to see and be seen. Parking is a real problem, and many of the narrow streets are one way or no cars, but we managed to find a spot in the railway station car park, and we walked back down hill into town. There are a couple of small sandy beaches. There is a tourist trail where one can view copies of famous pictures painted by the greats, in situ where the artists painted them but we did not have time to dawdle.

It was lunchtime, so after a quick stroll around to marvel at the light which had made the place so attractive to the fauvists, Matisse and others. It was rather bright and sunny. Here is a link to the towns tourist site
http://www.collioure.com/gb/index-gb.htm

I must go back when I have more time to wander round. For those of you who are architecturally inclined the church tower is shaped like a willy! Damn. I have lowered the tone of the blog yet again. The guide books marvel that it appears to sit in the sea. There are strong historical links with the Knights Templar.

After a nice lunch in a side street, we found a shop from which to buy a fridge magnet each, then headed back to the car.
The Satnav spoilt my day by taking us right into Perpignan for a rather sweaty half an hour of fun, before we popped out once again onto the open road.
The journey takes you along roads bordered by large vineyards, and narrow, very twisty roads some carved out of the base of sheer cliffs with the cliff forming a roof over your head with the river side open, so a bit like riding on a surfboard through a tunnel made by the waves (where French “expert” drivers enjoy their God given right to drive round the bends very fast using part of your side of the road. More sweaty moments.
The route we followed was toll free main road and very scenic, but there is one major problem, a small village called Maury. Here, right in the centre of the village, the one through road narrows to one vehicle’s width for 30 metres or so. If you are lucky and traffic going in your direction is hogging the road, you can progress quickly, if you are waiting for a gap in the traffic coming towards you, it might be time to break out the tea and sandwiches. This bit of road is completely stupid, and there is not a traffic light or gendarme in sight. So get it sorted now!!!!!!

Never one to shrink from controversy the next post will probably be titled "The only gay in the village"

Road trip

One evening whilst S was indisposed I went out for a slap-up meal.
In the UK you can probably still find a Wimpy bar? where you can get a burger. Well some clever person has opened a Wompy. Yes it was everything I thought it would be, but I wanted chips, chips, chips. The humungous double burger in the photo proved to be 4 - 5 bites worth, the coke was watered down syrup and I had the usual tiny cardboard cup of hard mini-chips.









By the time we left on Saturday morning, it was too windy to sit on the beach, but still very hot.
We followed the coast road, passing through St Cyprien (must go back for a look), Argeles (Sat nav took me down side streets) which is supposed to be posher than Canet Plage, so probably more my type of place (must go back for a look), Banyuls-sur-mer, a small fishing port which we strolled around. Very Catalan as it is near to the Spanish border, it has many big wine houses, warehouses etc. There is quite a smell wine must in the air.

See the choppy sea?

We found somewhere to park and strolled into town. We crossed a bridge over what looked like a dried river bed on the town side and the beach on the right side. This was also a parking area. Free parking I think. The following notice appeared on the wall below

If there is a storm you are asked to remove your car urgently

So, a nice little fishing village with a sheltered harbour for the little boats and Russian roulette parking.

To be continued........

The holiday

S was over visiting me for a few weeks, so we decided to book a weeks holiday at one of the nearest beaches on the Med.
We managed to get a last minute bargain, that still cost about £350 for the week.
Guided by the trusty Satnav, we skirted Perpignan and found somewhere to park a few hundred yards from out flat in Canet Plage.
The flat was on the ground floor of a small block of apartments and was pretty basic. No TV or washing machine! In high season I could have paid £500 per week.
Anyway it was about 4 minutes walk from the vast sandy beach and there were small supermarkets and shops nearby.
The resort has about 7 kilometres of sandy beach and because it was the last full week in August, and the return to school and work was imminent, the place was not at all busy.

S found a nice little sea-food restaurant, the weather was very hot, a sun umbrella was bought to protect my fair skin from the rays of the sun, and all was set for a relaxing week, during which we would probably visit the neighbouring resorts, go on a boat trip to Collioure etc.
Here is a photo of my left foot relaxing on the beach. Unfortunately the angle of the shot missed my new lime-green mankini, but it would have been tricky to get everything in.

In the evening we went for a stroll along the promenade, where we found a large crazy golf course, a large parking lot and about a kilometre of small stalls selling all sorts of jewellery, African carvings, hand decorated candles etc etc. Further along still there was a road of small shops catering to the tourist, huge ice cream counters, pizza, chips, clothes, sun glasses, pottery..... I named it Blackpool.

Alas it was not to be. S spent Monday evening and all night, clutching the toilet bowl. It couldn’t have been the fish as that had been Sunday lunchtime. We had eaten and drunk pretty much the same things.
I visited the local pharmacie and got two over the counter remedies, one for each end. S spent the next day in bed while I went to the beach for a few hours in the afternoon.
By Wednesday, she was still not up to more than going to the beach of an hour or so. The sea was becoming choppier and there was a strong wind whipping up the sand, so we did not stay on the beach for long. S is not a good sailor at the best of times, but a longish boat trip was not a very appealing prospect.
We did do a trip on the small white road train which took us up to the old town, via camp sites. A journey of about 25 minutes for 3 euros.
The old town was very disappointing. The one tourist attraction is a ruined castle, which is of course closed for renovations.
There was also entertainment in big main square just across the road from the beach. Pop music, country music complete with a "crack" line dancing club from Perpignan hogging the dance space, and the day that we left, the medieval fayre was due to start. There was also a tiny travelling circus, a tiny puppet theatre also appeared, for one night only.

Always on the lookout for shots to sum up the feel of a place, here are a couple.

What wouldn't a young man or woman do to get a ride in "Big Pimpin" I wonder how many little pots of silver Humbrol paint for aicraft kits it took to titivate this little beauty!

Just across

from the Casino (no, not the supermarket Casino)

This gentleman was obviously waiting for the pole dancing to begin, staking his seat early to get his own pole.

Perhaps this could be a caption competition photo?

To be continued.....