13. French classes and Nantes

I changed French schools a few weeks ago because the one I was at was all self-taught – I would pick up a module that explained a particular point and I would sit there doing the exercises until the centime dropped. It was all a bit soul-destroying so Madame said I’d be better off in a class with a teacher. So I had my first lesson in the new school. After a few minutes the teacher said that I should be in the Woodwork class oops, a higher level group.. But it was a lot better than the previous school.

A few weekends ago we were up in Brittany staying with our friends P and M-A in Nantes. On the Sunday morning before lunch, they took us on a lightning tour around the centre of Nantes. I don’t think Nantes is that well known in England but I think it deserves better. It suffered bomb damage in the war but the old part, which contains a magnificent castle, is still largely intact.

The castle was the former capital of the kingdom of Brittany in olden times and following its recent complete restoration, its stones are now gleaming white and it looked fully functional. Really impressive.

The old part of Nantes reminded us of parts of Paris with its beautiful old squares, elegant public buildings and Baron Haussman-esque apartment buildings. It was much more of a city than I’d expected. It has topped the polls in France for the last few years as being the city with the best overall quality of life. It's full of smart shops and restaurants, antique shops, old book stores and many individual shops that (almost) made me want to stop and have a look.

By comparison, Bayonne is much smaller. But then here there’s Saint-Jean-de-Luz, Biarritz, Anglet and Bayonne all in very close proximity to each other - each with its own distinctive character and attractions – and over the border in Spain there’s San Sebastian which is very stylish. Saint-Jean-de-Luz is Madame’s favourite and, as I’ve said before, I think when we get a bit older, we’ll probably think about looking for a flat in the centre there. We often go for a walk in St-J-de-L and it suits us both very well. It’s flat (unlike Biarritz which is quite hilly), compact (so everything is in within easy reach) and the beach is only at one remove from the centre of town.

We’ll see. Think Nantes would be a good place to work but I think down here is the better place for retirement because there’s the seaside, the much warmer climate, the mountains (skiing and walking), fishing, cycling (lots of cycle paths), golf (must be half a dozen golf courses at least around here), and, of course, there’s Spain just over the border. We also noticed that autumn was a lot more advanced up around Nantes – not many leaves left on the trees – whereas here just a few trees have started to change colour and drop their leaves.

Madame always says that the River Loire (which Nantes is at the mouth of) is the big divide in France as far as climate is concerned – north of it and you’ve got all the clouds, rain and mist and to the south of it you’ve got the sunshine. In theory!

We also went into the restored cathedral in the centre of Nantes which looked as though it was built only last week. There’d been a fire in 1972 which totally destroyed the roof and all the old medieval stained glass windows were lost as they exploded out in the intense heat. The replacement stained glass windows were a bit different too – instead of the usual scenes of saints, Eddie Stobart and co etc, they’d been designed to look like flames – and each window showed a different level of intensity of the fire. Some looked very good but others not so. The fire was caused apparently by some workmen who were working up on the roof with blowlamps setting fire to pigeons or something.

We didn’t have much time to spend looking around as the next stop was the huge Talensac food market. Apparently, this is one of the biggest and best in France and you would just not believe the range, variety, quality and prices of all the food products – poultry of all types and sizes, seafood, all kinds of meat products and fruit and veg on show. I wished I had my camera with me as at one point I spotted a smartly dressed lady in a queue at a till waiting to pay. She had her money in one hand and she was holding two large nasty-looking live crabs in the other.. Can’t imagine ever seeing that in England.

Thinking about that I was reminded of the other day when we had some oysters for lunch in Bayonne. On one side, there was a lady on her own tucking in to a dozen oysters and a whole bottle of white wine (I think I might struggle with that..) and on the other side, there were two ladies having lunch together – again, tucking into a pile of oysters with a bottle of white wine in an ice bucket. I remember thinking now there’s another sight you’d never see in England.. (and why not..?) If you are visiting France and have yet to try an oyster, don't let anyone tell you that they're slimy - they are anything but. Loosen the oyster from its shell, squeeze some lemon juice over the oyster and raise the shell to your lips and slide the oyster into your mouth accompanied by a sip (or two) of Chablis, Muscadet sur Lie or Sancerre.. Mmm! Please, no Guinness or Tabasco sauce - these kill the taste in my view. If you are new to oysters I'd suggest starting with No 4s. The number refers to the size - with a No 1 (close to the size of a horse's hoof) being the largest.

We also stopped briefly to look in the window of a cake shop… Ye gods… you would not believe how good everything looked. But there was not an Eccles cake or a custard slice to be seen for love nor money!

So, back to Tuesday… at my new French class this morning, there were four of us – J (a Sarth Efrican woman), L (a young Mexican hom) and O, a Spanish speaking chap from somewhere in Central America. J has been here since April and her husband commutes from Biarritz to London a few days a week then returns here for a long weekend. Think they’ve been watching too many of these House Abroad shows on TV. Crazy. She doesn’t speak a word of French and even if she could, no-one would understand her. She told me that she didn’t do it at school. Her pronunciation is just about the worst I’ve ever heard – worse even than mine! She pronounced vous gagnez as “vooze gagg nezz” and mieux as “my ucks” – think she has a long way to go. I subsequently was moved up to a higher level class and so I've lost track of how J was doing.. I wish her well!

My new group - a mixed class of around 10 - consisted of Germans, Argentinians, Mexicans, a Pole, a Kosovan and me.

Wonder what the French is for Eccles cake?

12. Heavy date!

In mid-October we went to Biarritz for another lunch at Bar Jean, the place by the market in Biarritz we like very much, but when we got there, it was closed. Think it only opens between Thursday and Sunday now. So, we found another promising looking place ("Le Bistrot des Halles") also very close to the market that we’d been to once before and we dived in there as it was raining quite heavily. Luckily, it was still only just past twelve and we had our pick of where to sit but within minutes, the place filled up. There was a table of raucous "Angliche" women who were clearly on a mission to drain at least one European red wine lake.. and, judging by the noise, I reckon they were going to finish in the medals!

Here's the Buena Vista Social Club singing "Chan chan":

While the £8.50 fixed price menu of 3 courses was astonishingly good value (confit of duck) we decided to go 'off piste' and try the à la carte.. Madame had a collation of seafood to start with – mussels, thinly sliced raw fish, squid and some shellfish while I had a terrine of foie gras with some crusty country bread. This was just about the best I’ve ever had.. absolutely superb. Then for her main course Madame had monkfish with squid cooked in squid ink – she was given a huge piece of fish - while I had a similarly generous thick slice of tuna..

A revelation occurred one early morning as I was taking the dog out for his constitutional. I was just pushing up the steep lane when I had one of those epiphany moments (they don't happen often!). I suddenly realised that I was no longer answerable to anyone – I didn’t have to worry about finishing a report on time within the costs set by the customer, or worrying where the next piece of work was going to come from.. and that, after a lifetime of sometimes crippling mortgage payments, we were now mortgage-free. It was quite a moment.. I said to myself out loud, “I’m free, I've made it, I've retired..”

A fragment of a visit to St Jean de Luz in mid-October - wandering down through the town which looked beautiful in the strong sunlight – people sitting outside in cafes and no endless throngs of people on the pavements as there are in July & August. And not a cloud in the sky. After looking at the shops, we found our way to the front and we walked along there for a while before we stopped to have a coffee. There were people on the beach and even a few people swimming.. We sat back in our seats and felt the warmth of the sun beating down.. I think St Jean is really the place where we’d like to end up. It’s compact, level and there are all the shops you’d need plus the beach is just yards away. So after dinner, you could put a jacket on and go for a stroll along the front and watch the sun go down. We might look for a small flat there one day.. Think St Jean is the most expensive place of all though down here – but as always, there’s a reason. There's everything you need within a small radius there.

St Jean de Luz

We had one slightly surreal occurrence when we came home to the gîte one day - Madame D was outside her back door – in a touching tableau (!) – holding an entire dead chicken (complete with head, neck, legs, wings) by the feet over a portable gas ring burning off all the remains of feathers.. The chicken’s head was sitting in the flames while she had a conversation with us.. It seemed slightly shocking to me at first but then I realised that this is the unvarnished reality of country living. Just up the lane on the farm there’s a dung heap – and I haven’t seen one of those for a long time - that her chickens are always picking around. The cock is always standing on top of it. It must’ve been one of these that got the chop..!

Think this calls for a vat of wine..

11. Basque dentists

Villefranque

The other day I had to go to the dentist in the village (right - with the Pyrenees showing in the background). It was unexpectedly modern and probably more advanced than any other dental surgery I’ve ever been in – including once when I had to go to a dentist while on business in Baltimore in the US.

Now American dentists have the reputation of being the world’s best but from my experience this one guy in a tiny Basque village would run them pretty close. I must say I was slightly nervous going in as I didn’t know what to expect but he was a very funny & talkative character.. He spoke good English too – in fact, his daughter had just left to go to Cambridge for 3 months to improve her English.

We started talking about rowing too and he told me that his wife is a 3 time World Champion and that she coached at the local club that I’d seen. He said they have a veterans’ section too. He said I should go down there and ask for her.

So in what way was the dentist so modern I hear you ask..? Well, when I sat back in the chair and looked up, there was a computer display screen. And as he asked me my details, they came up on the screen as he typed them in so I could check he’d got everything right. He said that he needed to x-ray the one that was giving me a twinge.. I thought, “Hello, ker-ching!”

He did a quick x-ray and about 2 seconds later, there was the x-ray of my tooth up on the screen. He also had a panoramic picture of a generic mouthful of teeth which he modified as he went along so that they ended up reflecting the actual condition mine were in. As he x-rayed each tooth, he tagged the ones he’d done on the screen so that if he wanted to have another look, all he had to do was to click it on his computer.. He didn’t have an assistant either – he did everything himself.

Now in England, they have assistants but they have to be paid for. And guess who pays for them..? No prizes. The last time I went to the dentists in the UK, I was charged £64 just for the dentist to give my teeth a good clean. I was in there for all of about 15-20 minutes. Here, I had about 5 x-rays and he checked all my teeth including fixing the problem I had with one at the back, and then he gave them all a clean. Madame was in with me and she gave me a wink as if to say, this will be a big bill. When it came, he charged me only £52.. Now, what’s good here is that we paid that on the spot and then we send off the bill to our Mutuelle (our health insurance company) and we get paid back in full. In England the NHS has lost the plot – you pay for your dentist. In theory, the NHS should provide dentistry but try and find one who’ll take you on as a NHS patient; plus if you’re under 60, you pay for your prescriptions and you pay for your eye tests and your specs; etc etc.

Rant over.. (“… now breathe deeply … and relax..”)

10. Signs of Autumn

So, looking back, we did amazingly well (and were extremely lucky) to have found a house so quickly. Bearing in mind we arrived on 1st September, we managed to sign the Compromis de Vente to buy the house just ten days later.

We’re well on the way to sorting out the new kitchen & bathroom, we’ve got the social security sorted out for our health care, we’ve got the car all done and dusted now with French registration, insurance and a new number plate.

There’s a rowing club in Bayonne that we pass every day on the way into town – when the dust has finally settled I’ll probably join as I understand they have a veterans section (hard to believe I qualify for that but there we are!). The Adour is very wide at this point and there’s very little traffic on it. I’ve seen an VIII out on the water as well as a few sculling boats.

André, our friendly Basque bank manager has threatened to take me to watch Bayonne rugby club and then go for a few beers afterwards..! There’s a lot going on around here – it seems to be a very active area for all sorts of things. There’s a big jazz festival here in Bayonne every summer which used to attract big names like Ray Charles (didn’t he die just recently or am I imagining that?), and cinemas that show films in English, guided tours around the towns, rambling trips in the countryside and everywhere there are cycle paths (so we can finally get the bikes out).

Blondes Aquitaines

One Saturday evening, we were invited down for drinks with Mr and Mme D.. It was still warm and we sat outside. Ominously (!), there was a bottle of pastis, a bottle of home-made pineau and a bottle of malt whisky on the table (no contest). He speaks French with an accent so strong you could lean on it..! At one point he was talking about his love for his land, his farm and his animals and his eyes clouded with tears.. In their parlour, there is a unit along one wall and the top is covered with trophies and cups from his successes at breeding champion Blondes Aquitaines - the breed of cattle local to this area. The Basques have a visceral attachment to their 'Pays'. Madame D served us some home-made paté and Madame was directed towards the pineau while I had three industrial strength whiskies… we had a good laugh with them. M’sieur D was feeding Chibby paté by the end of the evening.. I’m told that I snored heavily that night!

Most Sundays we go back to 'our' village to have lunch at Bernadette & Philippe's restaurant. They’re so kind to us there.. As soon as we sit down, they offer us an apéritif.. don’t think that would happen too often in the UK. Or anywhere else for that matter.. They really spoil us.

Back to re-decorating - curiously, paint is very expensive here. If we’d known, we could have brought some over in the van with us but then we didn’t think we’d find a house as quickly as we did. We’re both still surprised at what we managed to achieve in the first month.

I took the dog up the lane one evening at the beginning of October just as the light was fading – aka l'heure bleue.. The sky was cloudless apart from some high contrails that were orange in the setting sun. There was not a breath of wind and it was absolutely still. Sound carried for miles in a way you seldom if ever experience it in England. I could hear a dog barking from waay off in the distance.. The lane is lined with oaks, a couple of tall Scots pines and a sprinkling of palm trees.. The leaves on the oaks were just starting to take on the suggestion of a yellow tinge. Every now and again, there was the sound of an acorn hitting the road as it fell down from on high. You got the feeling that autumn was just starting to make its presence felt – although on Sunday, in the foothills of the Pyrenees, all the trees were still fully green. According to M’sieur D, there are wild boar around here as well as foxes, deer, pheasant and rabbits. On Sundays you can hear the guns as they go a-hunting.

Sit back for a moment and relax with these beautiful images of La Rhune and the Pays Basque:

 

One evening, Mme D brought Madame a carrier bag full of fine green beans. We had some that same evening with a little steak.. mmm.. very tasty. The problem with all the many plans for the house we had running was that if I woke up in the wee small hours, it was impossible to get back to sleep. I woke up at 3am one morning and after that, I just lay there for what seemed hours, unable to get back to sleep for thinking about bathrooms, tiles, timescales, painting, who should do what first, kitchens, where things would go in the house when the removals lorry finally came here..

We used to wonder what Biarritz, Saint-Jean-de-Luz and Bayonne would be like in the off season.. Well so far, the only sign that things are slowing down is that it’s a little easier – but not that much - to find a parking space. We were worried that in moving to a tourist area that everything would be closed up for the off season. So far that doesn’t appear to be the case.

Bon continuation..!