A cultural week

As mentioned in the last post, on Thursday we set off for Mouans Sartoux, a town about an hours drive east of here, to meet up with Phillip, an English car mechanic.  I have given up trying to deal with the French mechanics, and wanted to hand over all things car-related to Lew to sort out!  Phillip (who resembles a combination of Steve Gurney and Matt Bouterey), thoroughly checked out the car with Lew, pointed out all that was going wrong, gave us the options, and gave us a good price.  Unfortunately no cheaper than the French garage, but at least he's going to give us a car for the 2 days that he needs ours.  He's booked up until the 7th May, so we're cautiously driving around until then, trying not to put too much stress on the clutch with smooth gear changes and steady driving!

So, serious car matters ticked off the list, it was time for some cultural education and exploration.  We first stopped at La Colle sur Loup, a sleepy little village further east from Mouans.  We wandered around there for a while, seemingly having the whole village to ourselves.

 Next stop, St Paul de Vence, about 3k away.....and that's where we found the rest of the world!  From La Colle sur Loup, all looked very calm and relaxed.

However, approaching the village we were directed into an underground parking building which proudly announced there were 1000 spaces....  For some reason that didn't put us off, and we carefully negotiated round the 5 tour buses... and into the car park.
We then had to pay the feline car parking attendant before entering the village...

 St Paul de Vence was a favourite haunt for many artists including Matisse, Picasso and Chagall, with Monet and Renoir just down the road, and the village continues to be an artist's enclave.

 The village is protected by ramparts on all sides, and about 7000 people per day squeeze their way in - the place was packed!  Artist shops and stalls were tucked into every corner, and if you weren't buying art, you were probably buying something to eat, with restaurants and gelato stalls everywhere.  We joined the ranks of the tourists for the gelato...I've got dark chocolate, and strawberry, while Lew has mango, and hazelnut.

Despite the numbers of people around, it was still possible to appreciate the village, especially by keeping to the outer alleyways.  Beautiful examples of artwork in the construction of the buildings, like this cornerstone (with kissing chickens ?!?)....

this mullion window....

with incredible detail...

and this chap looking down on everyone...

We really enjoyed the area around the 2 villages, as there's more of an Italian style to the houses and terraces which is quite different to the Provence area where we are living.

A second cultural day out was in store on Saturday, when we went into Nice to meet up with friends James and Helen, who had flown over from England for a city weekend.  We drove (carefully!) on the peage and used the Park and Ride system, which was a big success: park your car north of Nice just off the peage, pay 2 euros for a return tram ticket which takes you into the centre of Nice, and then you pay nothing for the parking.  If we'd parked in Nice it would have been about 25-30 euros for the day, and we'd have sat in traffic jams for most of it!  The trams come every 5 minutes and are totally automated.  Very efficient.
We had a great day together, starting with the market in the Cours Saleya.  Helen was looking suitably chic and Parisienne in her red jacket and boots, while I was looking....like a Kiwi in my Icebreaker and jeans!  Well, the forecast was for thunderstorms and cold winds!

The market was full of the usual things, but this salt stall was a new one for us...

We sat at a cafe in the marketplace watching the world go by and enjoying the first pression (beer on tap) of the day, then had a walk along the Promenade des Anglais.  Starting in the second half of the 18th Century, English aristocracy took to spending the winters in Nice.  After a particularly harsh winter up north, there was an influx of beggars to Nice.  The English decided to put them to good use, and started the construction of a walkway along the sea front, which now runs for 7 kilometres.  It's a bit like Wellington waterfront, but much wider, so full of people walking, cycling, and roller blading.  The sea was an amazing colour, considering it was a dark day.

Lunch followed, with a bottle of rose wine, and a French woman singing loudly to the crowd for maybe just a tad longer than was welcome.  Nice is packed with places to eat, and we were pleasantly surprised at the prices and quality - we guess it is because there's so much competition they have to come up with the goods.

The afternoon was spent firstly in the Matisse museum (disappointing) and then the Chagall museum, which was great.  So much colour and detail in his paintings, and quite a sense of humour too, especially in his smaller line drawings.

All in all, a wonderful day out, with lots of chat and laughing, just what we needed to take our mind off the car.

Back home here, we're just in maintenance mode on the property, having done most of the big tasks for spring.  
We've constructed a small vege garden, together with chicken-proof fence, much to chickens' frustration.  They are as bad as the wild pigs, regularly patrolling the boundary, looking for weaknesses to exploit!  This is the leading activist "Speckles".

It's not a huge plot so we've stuck to the basics and easy things to grow like herbs, lettuces, radishes and beetroot.  The veges are so cheap here, but we love having fresh herbs outside the door, and everything grows so easily here.

Anzac Day was celebrated in Les Fadons with the usual Kiwi ingenuity.  We made Anzac biscuits for a few of the locals and presented it to them in a box (previously used by the local bakery for their "pain noir" loaf of bread), red poppy flowers picked fresh from the fields around the hamlet and a short note about the meaning of Anzac Day and some WW1 Metcalfe family history.  This was well received, afterall, who doesn't like receiving gifts of home-made biscuits.  The most appreciative were the local French octogenarians, Yvonne and Rene who live next door.  We were ushered into their house like long lost friends of the family and it was clear there was no option but to partake of something to drink.  An "aperitif" perhaps.  Anzac Day needed to be celebrated.  Everything seemed to be on offer although I had no idea what was being offered due to my almost complete lack of the French and Jean generally understood but the Provencal twang didn't make the options totally understood.  Yvonne disappeared outside briefly and returned with an unlabelled bottle with a cork in it.  This could be interesting, I thought to myself.  I have recently read that famous book by Peter Mayle "A Year in Provence" that often referred to "marc" - the local white lightning".   This stuff is the basis for all deals, card games, solutions and long nights in Provence.   Thank goodness we'd had dinner.  Out came the most delicate yellow miniature wine goblet glasses that would have looked at home in a doll's house.  Rene looked on as Yvonne carefully filled our glasses.  He seemed pretty pleased with all his hard work.  He has 3 fields to look after.  He is meant to be retired but things are pretty busy especially in spring.  Lots of veges to plant, vines to prune and grass to cut.  They preferred to have another famous French brew at this time of night.  Pastis -  clear at first but goes cloudy like lemon squash with the addition of water.   Tastes like aniseed.  Very refreshing after a hard day's work according to Rene.  I'd tasted it once and didn't like it much.   Not as bad as kava but only marginally better.  
So a good evening began.  They both know that I can't speak or understand much French.  Yvonne was the main talker and she'd chat away, Jean interpreting  occasionally and me generally wondering what the hell all the conversation was about.  Luckily the white lightning was a very tasty verbena infused liqueur   After a while Rene decided I needed to hear about man's stuff and he began talking to me.  Jean was doing her best to listen to both conversations but after a few liqueurs it's amazing how much French you can actually understand or at least pretend to understand with timely waving of arms, puffing of cheeks and lots of "Oui oui".  Every now and then I'd understand a word or two and figure out that Rene was talking about the terrible weather or that he owned 5 cars - all except one was French made.  "Tres magnifique"  despite him knowing that we had a totally unreliable piece of French engineering rubbish called a Renault in the shed next door.  He prefers Citroen of course.   "Superieur".   He's probably got a mint 2CV in one of his many sheds.  I know he has a well maintained Massey Ferguson 28 tractor that's about the same era.  So a lot of fun was had celebrating Anzac day here in Les Fadons hamlet.  I wonder what they thought of it all?

So that was our week.  Glad to hear that some of you are still reading and enjoying the posts!

Don't buy a French car.........

A frustrating week has gone by, with more frustration to come, I fear!
The Renault is performing like a true Frenchman - unreliable, temperamental, and unpredicatable.  We are now on first name terms with all the mechanics at the local garage, having had the air-conditioning serviced, a wheel bearing replaced, rear shock absorbers replaced, and no less than THREE of the four electronic windows fail, one with burnt out electrics, and the other two had simple plastic bits break.  We've also had a faint vibration in the car, which has existed since we bought it but has become more noticeable over the last month.  According to Laurent the mechanic, it was the left engine mount, so we decided to get that fixed, just to put our minds at rest.
Picture, if you will, the following scene.  (All in French, of course!)
Lew and I return to pick up the car after the engine mount is replaced, to the tune of 175 euros:

Moi: All finished?

Laurent: well, not exactly...

Moi: what's the problem...

Laurent: a large one.

Moi: what, exactly?

Laurent: well, we replaced the engine mount, and the vibration was still there, so we checked the other engine mounts and they are all fine.  You've recently had new rear tyres fitted and balanced, so it can't be that, therefore it has to be the clutch flywheel, which is between the engine and the clutch mechanism.

Moi: pardon?

Laurent: (repeats himself at exactly the same speed, with the same big, incomprehensible words, but at slightly higher volume)

Moi: no, still haven't got that

Laurent, Christophe, Nico and Yvan all repeat the same information to me, at top speed, with unhelpful arm waving, raising of voices, puffing of cheeks.  Initially, of course, they direct this to Lew, who is a MAN, and therefore will surely understand.  Lew backs away, pointing to me as the international ambassador for all mechanical issues.

Moi: can we try google translate please?

Lew: what are you all talking about?

Moi: is it expensive?

Laurent: 1600 euros

Silence, while Lew picks me up off the floor and hands me a tissue.

To cut a long and painful story short, we spent the next hour gradually getting the quote down to 1200 by not using Renault parts, and me doing my best at being an angry French woman who has just had an engine mount replaced when that was not the problem!
We have now discarded all efforts of integrating into French country life, and we're driving an hour across country tomorrow to see an English car mechanic who is very familiar with Renault Scenic issues!  I'm looking forward to handing over to Lew to direct proceedings for a change!

But life in France is never unhappy for long.  How can we feel down, when everywhere we look, there's another fine example of the French Net Curtain to entertain us?  Here are some of our favourites so far:
A few geese going on a family outing...

Can't remember what the pattern was, but liked the photo...

 Net curtains patterned with...curtains!

Not content with one pattern, you can always go for two in the same window..

Country scene, feeding the chooks...

Another one taken just for the photo opportunity...

And coming in at first place, complete with real life models...

I'm seriously thinking of importing the full range to sell in New Zealand, I think they could be a winner...

So, until there's more cheery news, that's it for this week!

It's not all play in Provence, there's work to do too!

While most of our news so far has been about touring around the region, and generally having fun, I thought it was about time we showed you the property, and what we are getting up to to earn our keep.  It's not all beer and skittles (or even wine and boules!) in Provence!  We do have work to do, albeit very pleasant work most of the time.

This is the main house, where James and Lavinia live.  You can just see the roof of our house, which is behind theirs, and slightly higher.

Looking at the property from the side, you can see more clearly how our part of the house is higher up on the right.  Our house is the oldest part, about 14th Century, with the remains of the old water mill building joined on to our right.  Behind the rock bank is the swimming pool.  One of our first big tasks was to clear and weed all the vegetation off that bank and cut back the toi toi (pampas grass, for the northern hemisphere)

The small window on the first floor, level with James and Lavinia's second floor, is our kitchen, and the windows above are in our bedroom.  Small windows on this side, but we have bigger windows on the sunny side.

This is our entrance; not quite so palatial as the main entrance!  Our car is in the car port, and one of the neighbour's van's is in the communal parking area.  The door to our courtyard is between the two cars.

This is the view from our car port!  This building belongs to a couple in their 80's, Rene and Yvonne, and the house is split into three, with three generations of their family living there.  It's all pretty basic living, but they are very friendly and always keen to talk - not a word of English, so Lew has an interesting time if I'm not around!

This is our courtyard on the sunny side of the house - after a bike ride in the sun: more about the weather later.

So, out our back door, through our back courtyard, and we're looking down on the garden and pool area with James and Lavinia's house to the right.  This is the area where we've done most of the work so far, working on the bank, pruning oleanders, cutting back bamboo, pruning roses etc.

Plus of course the pool.  Daily emptying of skimmer baskets, scrubbing down the walls and base of the pool, throwing in various chemicals, and doing filters, backwashes and all sorts of other pool vocabulary I've learnt!

The property is bounded on three sides by the River Argen, and in our part of the river are the remains of the old water mill and barrage.

Along the river is a path, which has to be maintained.  The river floods from time to time, which completely re-forms the path and geography of the bank.  The last major flood was 14 months ago, when the river nearly reached the house!  There's still a lot of work to do sorting out the debris and trees which are half in and half out of the river.
Some areas look like this...

And it should all look like this...

We've got quite a lot of grass to mow, with two ride on mowers - Lew has finally managed to get the second mower going, so we can now set up an F1 track around the lawn and see who's got the fastest model!  However, we've got some help with the lawn mowing at the moment, with these guys helping us out.

These ten sheep belong to a couple down the road, Titi and Lydie.  They live in a one roomed house, with no grass whatsoever, so their sheep move around the neighbourhood as required.  We've had to set up an electric fence to keep them out of the chicken coop where there's free food, but otherwise they are no extra work for us.

So, last week work began with felling a large poplar tree, which Lavinia had decided was shading the olive trees too much, and it had to come down.  Luckily we weren't expected to man the chainsaw for this one.  No, they had contracted the job out to a couple of highly experienced arborists.......Titi and Lydie....  Titi had brought along his largest, finest chainsaw for the job...

Just the right size for the tree in question...

It didn't take Titi long to don full safety gear: helmet, visor, gloves, chaps, the lot, and then he was straight into the job...

The cigarette stayed firmly in place for the majority of proceedings..

All going well, so far.  Lydie is just in view to left of camera, providing constant feedback and encouragement.  I'm sure she was only shouting to be heard above the noise of the chainsaw..

Lavinia and I keeping at a safe distance, discussing the merits of Titi's "derriere"!

Mmmmn, suddenly things were not looking so good.  Lydie called in for closer inspection and helpful advice...

When in doubt, hit it with something hard..

Finally things are starting to move in the right direction...aiming to the RIGHT of the yellow rocks..

Almost!  Shame about the small conifer that got cut off in its prime, but a small price to pay, when it could have been the fishpond!

The rest of the day was spent cutting off the branches and dragging them over to the fire pit and burning them - heavy work, we were all pretty tired by the end of it.

Needing a day off after our exertions, Lew and I took off to Aups market.  For those of you who have been requesting some more food photos, prepare yourselves.  Aups is probably the best market we've been to so far, plus it was a stunning day, our first day in shorts and T shirts.  The weather has changed so quickly from winter to summer, with about 3 days of spring in between.  The last three days have been 24-26 degrees, and I'm checking the pool temperature every day, currently at 20 degrees.
However, back to the market.
Lots of lovely veges, as usual

Plenty of cheeses, with lots of free samples

White asparagus - we bought some to try and weren't impressed.  Interestingly, asparagus is the only veg we've come across in France that is more expensive than it is in NZ.  Not sure why, as its all local.

Lots of saucisson - Lew must have had at least half a sausage-worth of free samples here!

More cheese..

Small dogs.....oh, sorry, they weren't for sale.

The inevitable olives.  The white bits amongst the green olives on the left are garlic cloves, which are marinated.  Strangely enough, they aren't at all strong, and don't even taste of garlic really.  Not quite sure what the point of it is, in which case!

Strawberries and raspberries are coming on strong already.  These were a bit expensive; we're getting good strawberries for 2 euros a kilo - about 3 dollars.

Bread in all shapes and textures

Paella - we haven't tried this yet, but it looks and smells great, and you can buy a hefty portion of 6 or 7 euros to take away.

Lew is very partial to the chickens, which also smell very tempting

And for dessert, macarrons - soft almond biscuits in many different flavours.  We were a bit disappointed with our choices, we bought an orange blossom, and a raspberry one.  The natural one we tasted was incredibly almondy, but the flavoured ones tasted a bit synthetic.  Maybe we just chose the wrong flavours.

All in all, a kaleidescope of colours, tastes, smells, and sounds, all very French, and just what we came here for.  Be warned, any of you coming to see us this year - you'll end up at Aups market!  Probably at this cafe too - we were here before it got too busy, with our highly predictable croissants and hot chocolate!

With all the activity in the market square, the surrounding streets were surprisingly quiet, and we wondered around for quite a while in the sun.

                                                

Too bad if you want to drive down this street, there's only room for one!

A bit of street art, old style...

And my favourite...

Loosely translated as "its not OK to stick your posters here, but its OK for me to deface the wall with my posh writing"!!

Back to base camp for a bit more tree work.  Titi turned up again with his log splitter, to attack the pile of logs/trunks/stumps which are too big to split by hand.  This time he upped the safety standards considerably, and conceded to wearing a pair of gloves all day.

He made Lew feel a bit under-dressed with only a visor and gloves on.  We were all sweltering away in 25 degrees in the shade.

Nine hours later (including the obligatory 2 hour lunch break for Titi) we had a pretty impressive three log wide stack!  It was so long it wouldn't fit in the camera shot!

The pool was now looking even more inviting, so I was just considering launching myself in, when I noticed that someone had got there before me...

As I am now a fully-fledged operator of the skimmer net, I soon scooped him up into a bucket and took him over to Titi (as well as being a professional tree feller, sheep farmer, and log splitter, he was sure to be a snake expert too) and sure enough, Titi confidently identified it as being "pas dangereuse" - not a problem.  However, even with the snake dispatched down the river, I decided that maybe it was a bit late for a swim, and I should just have a glass of wine instead.