Our 5 weeks in Sainte-Foy-La-Grande at Easter flew by, in spite of the cold and the rain. As have the six weeks since our return from Les Terraces. I am so glad that once again I have the suitcase out ready to receive the items we need to take back with us this Thursday. We’re not going straight home this time, which marks a first for us since we bought the house. We’ve family to see in England and I’ve some work to do for a client, but we’re getting closer to where we wish to be for the summer.
Our time in France was wet. Cold and wet. Incredibly wet. The river rose, and rose, and rose. And, just when we thought that it could rain no more, it did and the river rose again. We started to make shaky jokes about the ark and webbed feet and huddled round the fire. Perhaps you think I exaggerate? OK, here’s proof.
At its height the river was less than 6″ below the Quai de la Breche. It was impressive, I have to say. One totally unexpected, but wonderful, sight was that of house martins congregating …. they filled the railing on the terrace but the picture I took is too dark to use. Here’s one of them assembled on the passerelle on the Quai instead.
France wasn’t all doom and gloom. As we caught the TER from Bordeaux to Sainte-Foy-La-Grande I saw this from the window of the train:
How romantic is that??? I pestered Graham to take a drive to see if somewhere close to this barn outside St. Antoine de Breuilh there was an answer. At the very least I wanted a picture to share with you. Eventually, one Sunday, we took a spin. After a couple of wrong turns we found the barn. Lo and behold, there was a reply. And here it is:
Yeah! Romance is alive and well. It made me absurdly happy!
My friend, Trudi, fell off a horse just before Easter. Eventually she was transferred to the hospital in Sainte-Foy (to everyone’s relief as the one she was in in Bordeaux was awful). Daily I walked up to say hello and, if she wasn’t inundated with well-wishers, play a game of Scrabble. While on my way out there one day I saw the best house name set into a gate-post with tiles. This was another ‘must share’.
The heat of summer has come early to the BVI. We have endured enormous heat and humidity with little in the way of breeze, as our house is not well angled to take advantage of the prevailing winds. More than once we have thanked whichever wizard was responsible for the invention of air conditioning. For Graham, life would have been completely intolerable as the air thickened to the consistency of soup and, truth be told, much as I normally eschew AC, there have been days when I have hurried into the delicious coolness of the office from having run my errands into town and stood gratefully in front of the fan relishing the relief from the insufferable and all-pervading heat.
This will be the last you hear from me until July, when once again we will be at home for the summer. This year I WILL walk around Sainte-Foy on Bastille Day and see what other activities go on. Until then, keep well.