Our Holiday In France

Being the travels of three English 'students' somewhere in France, 17th August - 2nd September 1991. By

Saturday

e set off with plenty of time but arrived at stopping off point #1 without plenty of time so lunch was missed and we prepared ourselves for a long wait before dinner. Arrival at the port was followed by rapid boarding and settling down closely followed by losing our seats so we went for dinner after touring the ship (very interesting it was too) and being thrown about in the duty free shop. Dinner involved pre-plasticised lasagne amongst the plastic trees which Timmie longingly stared past at the cashier, about the only interesting scenery on board the Duck de Normandy, or overboard for that matter.

Sunday

After multiple stops had been made for sleeping, weeing, eating and star gazing we reached our first road side cafe. Within, the first immortal words of French were uttered 'une tay th‚'. Then we got there. Roland and Tim slept whilst yours truly carried on a franglais conversation with the neighbour during which I was gleefully presented with the scar on a cat which had been spayed by Vanson (Vincent). Eventually I managed to decipher the phone system with une peu de help and 'phoned home'. Later we ate dinner, being ravioli, cheese thins and snacky things (soon to be labelled nibblies). Even later on we visited Gallanchat, faithfully following the supplied directions, getting lost at the first turning and successfully turning right at the hay bales which we later discovered had a habit of moving during daylight hours. But being evil farmers from England we turned left and continued regardless. 2km later we weren't anywhere but pressed on enthusiastically only to find a signpost which didn't point anywhere we wanted to go so we came back past the corona. Very much later we watched the UFOs playing baseball in the sky whilst laying in the road.

Monday

A late start and no breakfast (having eatten the cheese thins for dinner yesterday). We nipped off to the Leclerc only once forgetting which side of the road to drive on. We managed to overcome the first hurdle and having inserted 10 francs in the chariot we were off, zooming past the English family discussing the merits of French bacon ("oh she won't like that!") to finish shopping before siesta time. No problem. Okay we held up the boulangere by presenting a 10 franc piece for 'une stick'. Lucky we didn' try the 100 franc note.

Then we tried for gasole (local spelling), very cheap, especially if you had an account with Credit Agricolae and the associated card, it being a monday. But would that help I ask, the French seemed to be having enough difficulties. Into San Jon (St Jean) where we eventually found Les Tours, yep sure enough closed for siesta as was the Abbey. Back we trekked for lunch and siesta. Six hours later we started to cook, an hour later the chair bolognaise was completed, well that's about all that can be said really. Its Trivial Pursuits time and a mandrill, according to Tim, is frequently used to squeeze water out of clothes.

Tuesday

We lived through the chair but missed a lot of today again by waking in time for the siesta. So we drove to Aulnay (not an arch in sight), which was closed, so we tried the Roman Church which was open, not that it made any difference. So knowing the shops were still not open (no lunch yet) and being depressed by sitting amongst the graves we went off to find the Chateau at Dampierre (pronounced no where) and had a French tour which bore us out until the shops opened. Later on, at St Jean we got lunch and dinner (having disposed of the chair remains) and returned. After lunch we (okay so Roland was having his 5pm siesta) walked up the road and times were so hard that photos of some hales bales were taken all round.

Back to dinner time (Dinner Time, The Epic, Book Two), we did it again, baked beans (whatever happened to the sauce I don't know), fish fingers (Captain Igloo where are you?) and chips. Actually fries, which mutated to husks containing fat. The leftover parmesan helped but out came the cider and we all left something. Oh well, tomorrow is another day as they say.

Wednesday

Up early ish. Off to Cognac and round Hennessey, Otard, Martell in rapid succession, the only one getting tipsy being the driver. Many postcards purchased. Late lunch once more but who cares. Dinner, well, all did go well, everything was edible but maybe the veg was a little bland. Timmie carefully ministered the scrambled eggs but managed to burn them (the gospel according to Timmie says the bottom of the pan burned). The Mills and Boon recital continues.

Thursday

Up even earlier and off to Rochefort. We started by visiting the Cordiere Royale (the ropemakers) but that seemed to be preoccupied with eskimos (the scrunchy soounds were something else though). So we went to the Maritime Museum, which was closed for lunch. Next we tried to find the harbour walls but soon concluded that was at La Rochelle not here so we followed the Naval Museum signposts to find, lo and behold, the Maritime Museum.

Lunch was upon us once more, this time at lunch time, so we trekked off to Brewarge (Brouage), the walled town, arriving without incident but yet again falling foul of the French signpost system where the signpost is in little letters after the turnoff. They probably think the English are maniac drivers if we all drive and attempt to follow signposts at the same time. Brouage was interesting, perhaps they overdid the celebrations of some bloke who founded Quebec (where ever that was) and is dead. I always thought EC regulations were strange but now the French are creating open sewers in anticaption.

Driving home some navigational difficulties were experienced in Rochefort but Tim and I magnificently overcame them with a perfect sense of union. Later, having returned home with more shopping (inc. nibblies) the remaining fish fingers were cast mercilessly away.

Friday

Up very late today, so late that breakfast occurred shortly before siesta time cutting out the possibility of lunch. But valiantly ignoring the pangs of hunger we travelled across hills and valleys to Saintes, the Ancient Roman town where all is romanesque but finding the interesting bits proved difficult.

The eternal gamers found a games shop complete with crappy (Games Workshop) stuff in it and some other fun things we managed to wreck The packaging on. Navigational prowess wins out again as we return uneventfully home.

At home the swingball was manifested with some help from a sun brolly (during which time Timmie poked a hole in the cage closely followed by me copying him) but the idea failed so we played bashing a bouncy ball or football around the 'courtyard'.

The flypaper has now caught four flies (mouches). Dinner was edible and Mills and Boon continues. A shopping list was created.

Saturday

A visit to Leclerc for breakfast where upon we managed to buy more than one meal, shock horror. Then we had croissants for brekkies (when I were a lad the croissants were curved) and I went off to rip my hands to shreds on the walls rubbing down event.

Lunch was had with a guest appearance at last from the pate and salami. Later after doing nothing all afternoon we had pizza which was eminently edible if one ignored the fly plague (flypaper : 7 flyswatter : lots) and the carbonated bases (special for Roland). Reportedly the wine was worse than last night but this time Roland forced himself to down another glass despite the rising gorge. Pineapple and cream was not had as intended.

Further into today we played T&T where nobody won. Mills and Boon continued but Tim refused to read the pervy bits.

Sunday

A general lack of activity was had by all. Trivial Pursuits were carried out by the seasoned gamers and life dwindled to seem merely as a jigsaw puzzle, Mills and Boon continued in its new (improved) form. The fly paper is getting better with practice. I continue to suffer from being a mozzie feeding ground ("no the mosquitos don't bite" - 1989). Examination of the inventory shows that breakfast has absconded.

Monday

A concerted effort forced everyone out of bed but not in time for the very old washing up to be disposed of. Nipped off to Futuroscope via Aulnay where we came across the bread van (nearly drove into the back of it actually). Futuroscope was interesting but the porno films were a bit bland I'm sorry to say. The way back was about as eventful as getting there but without the bread van. Dinner was not cooked because we were out of plates & cups & knives & forks & spoons. However, soup was had but the washer-upper missed that bit.

Tuesday

Dear Diary, Today we got up very late and were going to go out but the neighbours arrived so we finished the jigsaw and then we had breakfast and went out much later to La Rochelle on the way to which Timmie got a cheap thrill. At La Rochelle we walked around having eaten the festering ham and avoiding the UKP1.50 coke. Another games shop was run to ground. Some difficulty was had with the 'traffic' system and the left (forwards) signposts. Also the distances are unusual eg threee quaters of an hour at about 70 mph put 28 miles on the clock but the signpost said we'd done 28 km with 32 km left which became 18 km five minutes later.

Roland finally washed up. Chris forgot to take piccies of the sunset and the Mah Jong set was once more brought forth.

Wednesday

Up and about early to scrub the railings but taking Alex's hair thingie back took 2 hours so late breakfast was had once more. Later we went swimming, all six of us in Daisy (nay, The Chugbuggy) where we spent the afternoon playing catch with a certain person to the accompanying cries of "Cristofer, look, critsofer". Then we went for dinner with them ...

Which we survived even managing to communicate with daddy but not Vincent. After the kiddies had been packed off to bed we played bilot and made sense of the rules but Roland maintained his confused status.

Thursday

We almost got up early and even when I did, the butchers were closed so we had brick for breakfast which Roland failed on. Off we dashed, having discovered a minor lack of indicators and got bread from the Intermarche where we totally failed to fix the car. But we continued undaunted to Niort and Coulon (you guessed it, closed). We drove along a narrow variety of tracks labelled Marais Sauvage (wild swamp) which led back to Coulon.

In the reopened Coulon we hired a canoe and paddled around a race course winning gloriously despite having a broken rudder (Roland). More coke was drunk and we restocked on the way home. Sunset piccies were not taken but we fixed the car.

Friday

My birthday.

I got up and rubbed the railings and then I got dragged away to have an almost conversation with the Michaud family returning with stuffed tomatos and threats for se soir (this evening). Then Tim rubbed a railing with me and we stopped for lunch.

Later I had another conversation, this time with Madame Fuearley (it has a real spelling but is lost in the mists of time) and returned with tomatoes (given a reprieve from the conserve) and a melon.

The hot water is doing funny things. On Sunday Mother and Father are getting married at the Church of Mairie and its a free for all. The stuffed tomatoes turned out to contain chair (but Roland still eat one). The dustbin bags were hermitcally sealed with insulating tape having forgotten to put them out twice now.

Gateaux Basque was had with the Michauds with a dictionary flicking session to follow but La Champagne helped. Later we 'nous partied' to safety and the comfort of L'Anglais.

We had a thunderstorm.

Saturday

Up late again and rescued the hoover from next door only to use it to great consequence on the instruments of many wishes. A food quest was had but four times as much was spent on booze.

A mouse was discovered in the roof when it started dashing about, quite how it made so much noise I don't know, it was saved for Wendy.

The car was washed. Mills and Boon was finally completed to an unseen audience. Pineau was received for my birthday. Dinner stretched late into the evening wrapped delicately around T&T with multiple casualties inflicted by Mr Arbitary.

Sunday

Up early, we're getting the hang of it now. Lots of driving, all the way back in fact. Photo sequences were taken for posterity of Roland. The port was reached very early and nearly on no diesel. More T&T and coke was had washed along with a quick crepe and coffee.

Later we boarded the ship, last of course, and found some seats (miraculously!) where we completed T&T. Further investigation revealed the seats to be bloody uncomfortable for sleeping on, possibly something to do with only being three foot long and someone was snoring (not me). Eventually we escaped our iron confines and avoided the red channel to dash home for breakfast.

Homework Questions

What is 3615 CUM (on an advert featuring a man and woman together not over dressed, seen more often than flies)?

What happened to all the dual carriageways?

Why when one finds a dual carriageway is it smothered by traffic lights (always red)?

Why are signposts en France too small to read until after the turn off?

Why do the straight ahead signs point left?