Sound of Silence..Shattered !

 It’s one of those rare events , well around here, a completely still evening . No wind , or even gentle breeze to stir the leaves. The atmosphere has conspired to dampen out any errant sound . So miraculously there is just occasionally none at all . It’s is though we are the only ones left on this planet . Not so much a tranquillity, as an eeriness; fortunately only for a few long seconds . This is not a Covid lockdown moment.

Is that a blackbird leading the bird song ? Good we are not alone!  This is normality, if a rarity .  Spaced out in time and distance he is joined by other species . I suppose back in the UK I could have recognised them , or at least seen them on the occasional tree. From our terrace , it is forest all the way to, and over Les Albères . Little chance of actually seeing our choral background. The house sheltering us from village noises . 

 I can hear my mastication, consumption of the evening meal takes on an oratory significance. I have to stop, to appreciate that external stillness. Now there is a competition for sensory satisfaction . So at least I can slow down to appreciate each one in turn . I suspect that that glass of Mas Amiel 69 is going to win this race . 

But this is no time for sloth , work to be done : evening watering of the potager. There is a something supremely satisfying listening to water on leaves ; knowing that it in turn should lead to something edible ; assuming that the myriad of allotment inhabitants don't get there first. At this point I should remind my loyal readership that this hosepipe only uses treated recycled water . Maybe the last rays of the sun would be generating, through our solar panels, the electricity to drive the pump. Green smugness .

The gate clunks to , feet on gravel , and a return in doors. Though not without appreciating a nip in the air . That canicule has abated , at least for this evening. No need for AC;  ..oops , greenness slipping there.  All in all , a most rewarding evening . Life in this part of France can be truly special……..

Midnight , awoken, startled by a crashing thunder and darkness interspersed with vivid flashes of lightning . Then the welcome sound of steady rain , enough to put out any fires started by that lightening. This all soon passed and I drift into slumber . 2am ; crash! heralding storm force winds. A rush to secure all windows and outside furniture under the blaze of all the security lighting , triggered by all this violent movement . It was as though we were under attack by a hoard of howling banshees. These ones must have been  equipped with hair dryers as the temperature had shot up by 10C to 33C. I do hope there were no latent fires , the consequences would have been frightening.

4am, all that wind , heat and noise had gone ! Where did it come from , and where did it go ; I mused as tiredness overtook me . As the sun arose , stillness had returned . It was as though the night had never existed.  

Ah, so it was a “heat burst”; a fortunately rare event that can follow decaying thunderstorms . Cap Bear,a local weather station recorded temperatures rising from 22C to 37 C in a few minutes, and wind gusting to 154 km/ hr. Some ‘ hair dryer’ !. See abstract for an explanation, well sort of .

Silence is golden

But my eyes still see

Silence is golden, golden

But my eyes still see!  ( acknowledge  to the Tremeloes )

“And in the naked light, I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never shared

And no one dared

Disturb the sound of silence”  ( acknowledgement to Simon et al )

House in the forest?

Green Shoots

 There is something deeply satisfying watching an electricity meter not going round , while actually using the stuff. This time it is perfectly legal unlike a previous meter which had been adjusted by its former owner. Of course I am betraying my age , as meters no longer have dials , just electronics . With the new Linky meters they have to be interrogated by computer , and that the day after . Progress? 

However my latest gismo gives almost real time analysis of consumption , and if the sun is out , supply . So I finally bit the bullet , or rather wrote the cheque, and had solar panels installed,  together with some fancy electronic control . I would like to say that it was it was my green credentials coming to the fore;  but in reality it was “ that mad man in the Kremlin “ that gave the final push , in this case to the rapid increase in energy prices. In his equations of madness , I bet he didn’t think his actions would help in the fight against climate change and spur this consumer into action.

In just one day last week 16 panels were installed on the roof by 6 fit young men , helped by a ‘cherry picker’  This  could deliver the panels to their final destination, without risking the lives of those numerous people clambering over the roof . I for one was very nervous of their antics . The original house owner died following a fall from his partially constructed roof .

 The sun the next day brought a surge in my generation capacity , potentially up to 6 KW. Without heating or AC , that more than meets our consumption ( given that important factor of sunshine ) and excess sold  to the grid . 

Now, I have concluded that EDF and the government are to on to a pretty good deal .I pay for the capital cost ( with some minor support ) and then potentially get paid 10 cents a unit ( KWH ) , which of course is liable to income tax . EDF can then sell MY electricity at 15 cents ; …plus VAT ( more money to the government  ) . At the moment EDF haven’t  actually completed the formalities , so don’t pay even the miserly 10 cents. For them it is all profit , with no incentive to speed up the bureaucracy .( apparently I have to wait 5 months ..like everyone else !! )

Before the advent of electricity , life was influenced  more by the rising of the sun , and with it , all important light and warmth. With solar panels , suddenly the sun again  is  determining our actions . Dishwashers and washing machine usage is dictated by availability of solar power, rather than off peak EDF power.  I know ,  is only a minor inconvenience compared to pre-industrial times, but it takes some adjustment. Fortunately  the solar panel gismo can send instruction to ‘intelligent ‘plugs’ to do all that switching . 

I can just relax , in the smug satisfaction that I have turned a little bit green ; and maybe in some distant time , recoup my capital outlay.

Green electronics

Oh I do like to be…..

 It seems as though we have had days of perfect weather : hot , still and cloudless. Well we have ! Is this really Argeles , so many windless days? The effect of global climate change ? A stroll on the prom with friends enjoying the first inklings of summer . With such perfect conditions, a sea trip to Collioure by boat, beckons. Azur blue sea and the vermillion coast . What could be better?

The boat leaves at 10.20 , yet in our holiday spirit, it was a scramble to be there on time . Strange , when we have ‘all the time in the world’  , there doesn’t seem enough of it . Gang plank up , and our craft departs for Cap Bear , by way of Collioure and Port-Vendres . Leaving port , the captain turns north , the opposite direction planned . Ah there is now some of that wind and with it a swell , especially close to land . So to spare the passengers from too much rock and roll, we headed for deeper and calmer water . 

The view of our coast  from the sea is always amazing .It is only from this perspective that it is possible to appreciate the true beauty and drama of Les Alberes meeting the Mediterranean . In no distance 1000 meters peaks tumble into the sea . Ah I remember it well , the last leg of the GR10 , the long distance path from Atlantic to Mediteranne and a 500 m steep descent .The total route takes some 35 days , I was warming up on the last two! Toes hammered against walking boots ; the blacked nails taking months to recover . Lesson leant: when starting such descents , first tighten boots to stop toes sliding downwards .  

An easier route down was to follow “Le Chemin de L’eau “ and it’s Tunnel de Aigua . A gentle descent following a gravity pipeline which intercepts four springs high on the mountain side and  which carried water to Port Vendres . Built in 1890 to meet the growing needs of the Port ,with its’  steam ships and steam trains .  8 km long including a 200m rock tunnel , a feat which was duly celebrated just two years later ; no doubt with more wine than water. Over the years man has increased in height , so traversing that tunnel requires knees to be bent ; hat necessary to cushion the inevitable bumps . The water supply was refurbished this millennium to provide water to the hamlet of Rimbau.

I digress , so back on the boat we entered the calm waters of Collioure. However , the bay seemed full of men in rubber boats from the ‘Centre national d'entraînement Commando’ . If you have to do your military training , what better place . The gendarme were also practicing their scuba skills . Hours of entertainment for the tourists, ( us included as we had disembarked for lunch ). 

Suitably replete , and reinforced with some of Collioure’s great wine , we boarded for the return . In the intervene hours the wind and strengthened and the sea grown . Now the captain had  captive passengers, he was going to have some fun…with us . The boat pitched and rocked , but the sea stayed , well , in the sea.  Explaining that this is all part of a summer experience , the throttle was opened , and the passengers on the aft deck were suitably drenched . 

Oh I do like to be beside ( but not in ) the seaside.

A calm start!

Life’s Surprises

The green rolling hills were framed by an array of newly leafed trees. In the centre of the field stood a magnificent copper beach ,surrounded by a carpet of blue bells. A rural idyll. At the bottom of the hill, just beyond a hedge of hawthorn flowers, a boat suddenly chugged along on a canal , previously hidden from view. 

The canal, known locally as the 'Staffs & Worcs', was one of the major routes of the canal age, and would have been constantly busy with coal boats.  It runs for 46 miles, connecting the River Severn to the Trent and Mersey canal . It was completed in just five years by James Brindley. It would have been dug by hand and powered by horses, an almost incomprehensible feat by today’s mechanised standards. 

At the same time , in 1764, James Watt, was transforming the steam engine into something that could power the industrial revolution. Coal, its life blood , flowed along canals , its first arteries. The local lord , looking down from what is now our hotel , would have been shocked by the noisy and smelly first steam barge disturbing his tranquility. No one was going to escape this revolution.

We were in Kinver , a pretty, but growing village on the banks of this canal . Lady Jane Grey, and others , are alleged to haunt the local woodland ; surprising inebriated guests at the town’s pub. Today we were met by the unexpected refrains of ‘ The A train ‘. A seven piece  jazz band  entertained us while we sampled the local gin and beer. They were collecting for Ukraine , here in remotest rural England . Not a response the Kremlin was expecting. 

Two days later it was the Dave Weckl / Tom Townsend experience providing the jazz ,this time at the more famous Ronnie Scott’s club in London. It was our adjacent listeners who were the real aficionados. Two Dutch , who had travelled especially for the evening performances. As professional drummers themselves, they had watched Dave ( the drummer) over 20 times; convinced he was one of the worlds greatest; …and we didn’t know!

Amazingly, on average two women in the region  give birth with no idea they were even pregnant. Not possible you may say . Apparently the baby is behind the placenta, which disguises the bump. Our friend’s granddaughter had even passed an employment medical at 7 months; and still no one knew. An uncomfortable night of stomach pains, and the next morning a full term baby appeared. The mother , not surprisingly, took four days to get over the shock . Despite the trauma all are well and happy; an instant family out of the blue . 

You can never tell what is just around the corner. Ah yes ! tomorrow is a birthday party for my sister’s 70 th , with family appearing from around the globe . She may have been expecting the day, but not the attendees.

Rural magnificence 

But with canals then an industrial transformation.

Even the dogs are taken care of in this pub

On the road again

It is April and the grounds are white over ; not snow but hail. An intense , but fortunately brief storm, then followed by equally torrential rain . All my hard work raking the potage negated , and newly planted seedlings non too happy . Still it helped somewhat to flatten the sangliier’s rotovation of the previous night ( electric fence inadvertently not on ). Nothing to be done , we are off to UK the following day . Four weeks at home , after four months away ; itchy feet !

Airport chaos; Ryan air strikes; so we are driving, whilst avoiding Dovers’ snarl-ups. Roscoff to Plymouth on Brittany ferries . For us P&O , with the way they treat their staff, is a no no ! Not to stress the driver ( me ) an overnight stop in Pons , and then two in Roscoff. 

Pons , pronounced Pon , why , well it just is ; was a bit like the curate’s egg…good in parts. ( 1895  Punch cartoon ). The hotel was perfect, except the room’s only window was a sky light …with a view of …the sky ! It being a Sunday , virtually all restaurants were closed routinely or ‘ exceptionally’.  We were saved by the local bar which served a simple , but an excellent meal . The local beer was good too. 

In the centre, in a  commanding position , was the ‘Donjon’, or castle keep . The rest of the castle was long gone, but taking the132 spiral steps , the view from the top was fit for any lord. The only residents now appeared to be a pigeons egg and a dead mouse . The latter succumbing to the effort of those steps , and the egg from abandonment.The top’s main feature was the five speakers of the siren , placed at head height next to the walkway. For audible preservation, a place to avoid at noon on the first Wednesday in the month ( when tested ) or during an impending air raid .

Roscoff was well worth the extra days sojourn. The stone housing spoke of previous prosperity, derived from legal and dubious trading . The latter paid for a truly magnificent church bell tower, I guess a form of spiritual compensation. With the decline in smuggling , hastened by the power of the British navy, onion selling became the other main occupation; Delivered throughout England and Wales by beret clad Breton cyclists, affectionately known as ‘Johnnies.’ Increasing post war prosperity killed this trade. To maintain onion production in the face of stiff competition, the wily Bretons have managed to obtain an AOC designation for only their onions . To the unprofessional eye, they still look the same as any other onion , but now are a must as tourists memorabilia . 

Today we left Europe,  given that Brexit has opened up that divide. Presentation of our ‘Carte de séjour’ is now an obligation to avoid breaching non resident 90 day limit on stay. You would think Europe would want to encourage tourism ! As we head towards ‘Blighty ‘ , I can gain some solace in that The Leavers, leader is facing appropriate discomfort from his ‘ miss truths ‘ ( lies to us lesser mortals ) ; even if this comes from errant partying rather than responsibility for economic and political damage . 

A White…..April!

Ear plugs essential 

Oh, I do like to...

 …To be doing Yoga beside the sea . Well I would like to , but there was no way I was going to try and match the two lithe young ladies doing their ‘ sun salutations ‘ at Sardine bay  ; or to give it its proper name : Plage de L’Ouille . Our name comes from the main dish at the local  summer restaurant , and location of the limit of our physical activity .

It was fabulous Monday spring morning, which had banished the thoughts of the last two weeks of rain . So we set off on our favourite walk along the coastal path  from Plage de Racou to Collioure. There was absolutely no wind, so the sea was a blue mirror; it look enticing . However the thousands of boats remained in their marinas , that perfect sea left to two lobster fisher men , and the marine police launch . As there was absolutely no other activity , I can only assume that that the boys in blue were out to shake off the winter cobwebs.

The path winds up and down, precariously clinging to the cliff edge . From time to time bits fall off , but today it was intact and open .So too were the gates, that in the summer are closed  at night, to enable adjacent happy campers to get a  good nights sleep. Today was too early even for spring visitors , the spectacular view was the preserve of us locals .

Half way the path descends to sea level , and that beach . Normally the beach holds back the river , but today, after all the recent rain, we had to wade across. The first across were those two ladies , who then  unrolled their yoga mats . Whist they proceeded with their impossible contortions, us older mortals struggled just to reach our feet to remove shoes and socks. A sobering reflection of the generation gap.

…To be by a roaring log fire . It seemed that winter had fought back , and for four days the fire stayed  alight, warming ancient bones .  Obligatory night time forays to the loo had their advantage; it enabled wood to be added with sufficient regularity to maintain twenty-four hours continuous combustion .

…To enjoy gardening in the spring . New growth  is appearing and  planting is in full swing , with thoughts of summer blooms and vegetable surpluses ( I am the perpetual optimist ) . Ah Ah , we already have four days of strawberry production; well one per day . A taster , this time for us, and not the birds, as the potage is completely netted . But is the net spacing big enough for bees to germinate the profusion of blossom ? But wait , summer has arrived ; the first swallow has returned to its'/our garage from its' African sojourn. Exciting times indeed .

A tale of two generations

Two days production

Travelling ( updated )

“With a song in my heart”……

“It’s nice to go travelling , to…”.. Maldives, India, Spain and Ecuador ; but after four months, now it’s time to be “ homeward bound”. So , with at tinge of sadness…” I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again “. Enough of that!

As it turned out , the plane was the easy bit taking us as far as Madrid. Our ticket included three 25kg cases each ….. whilst the train from Madrid allowed for three cases , the total was 25 kg . RENFE will not allow more. So much for encouraging passengers to take the train rather than plane . After much mildly frantic investigation, mybaggage.com provided the solution. They would collect our excess bag from our Madrid hotel and deliver it home for $ 90. An incredible service from a Belfast based company. ( time will tell if it actually arrives; but it is insured, maybe !) . 

The other challenge was returning with two tall African wooden statues which had arrived in the container from Malawi. A snow board case was the perfect solution, but unobtainable in Ecuador. Amazon would ship, but customs and delivery made it prohibitively expensive. Fortunately our bedroom’s next guests (hot bedding) arrived from the States , and before we left, offering a customs and delivery free option. Addendum..this bag also needed to be shipped , but being oversized cost euro145. All arrived , one day early via Barcelona, Lyon, Marseille!!!.

“Rain drops keep falling on my head…”., well our stay coincided with the rainy season . Global weather changes has increased the amount ,so at least farmers and hydroelectric generation will not be short. Not so good for the stability of deforested steep slopes. Oh dear, Argelès was on an amber warning for heavy rain , and the stuff would continue to fall for our first week home. We will definitely be “ keeping the home fires burning “. 

The train journey from Madrid to Figueres is a wonder of technology. 4 hours, 600 km , maximum speed 350km/hr. Travelling premium so we could take some luggage with us, also included € 20 for breakfast. Looking forward to something special at that price . No ! small print: Covid restrictions means no food …just the charge ! RENFE might have the hardware, but not customer service.  Addendum Covid restrictions eased, breakfast provided !

Next year’ s journey, well we will see. A blog reader suggested the International Space Station ; but the mad man in the Kremlin has made that area of international cooperation another casualty. “Fly me to the …moon “ I’m not one of the multi billionaires. Just a silly song ….. 

“Trains and boats and planes”. : 12 flights , four boats ,innumerable cars , that train,

(4 currencies, 6 Pcr’s , ): 36,000km. phew!

« Oh it’s so nice to go travelling,

But it's so much nicer

Yes, it's so much nicer to come home”

Bye-bye!

A welcome home!

 

 This time it's the much travelled men that dwarf giraffes !

…