Covid-19 vaccinations

At the Civray vaccination centre

Social media can be a funny old thing. Some people rant, some boast, some just seem to be out for a fight, but we all share and, from my experience this week, many people out there also care.

 

I had a bit of a wobble this week, caused by the frustration around booking my covid-19 vaccination. As Adrian is over fifty, I was able to look for a date and time that suited his work schedule and book his appointment a week in advance. As I’ve not yet reached that golden age, I was only allowed to book last minute, for an available slot in the coming twenty-four hours. I naively assumed, with three centres within twenty-five kilometres from home, I would find a slot and pop out, possibly even while Adrian was working, and be home to pour his morning coffee. I was wrong. I soon found myself caught in a negative loop of continually refreshing the online booking platform, so much so that by Wednesday the phrase “Aucun rendez-vous de vaccination n'est disponible dans ce lieu d'ici demain soir” began to play on a loop in my head. (No vaccination appointments are available here between now and tomorrow evening.) Every now and then an appointment or two would appear, but they were in places like Rochefort, Royan, Poitiers or Chauvigny, all over eighty kilometres from home. The only ones more local were at a time that clashed with Adrian’s appointment, and at a centre in the opposite direction.

 

The weather certainly didn’t help as it was either raining, threating to rain, or dry and sunny, but with a fierce wind. Getting out on the bike is a great way to clear my head and put things into perspective, not being able to get out just added to my vaccination frustrations and made me cranky. Having rolled my eyes at a particularly heated post on Facebook, where a fight had broken out over whether our department of the Deux Sèvres was or wasn’t far enough south to be classified as south-west France, I took to Instagram with a vaccination whinge. 

 

I was quite bowled over by how many people commented on my post with advice, ideas and generally trying their best to help and make me feel better. Thank you it really did help. As luck would have it, on Thursday morning I found myself an appointment for Friday afternoon, at the same centre in Civray Adrian was headed to on Thursday afternoon. This did mean two eighty-kilometre round trips in two days, which is not ideal for people who rarely take the car out these days, but it did mean I was able to book our second slots at the end of June for the same place, on the same day, one hour apart. 

Getting my Pfizer shot

 

The centre in Civray, who are vaccinating around one thousand four hundred people with the Pfizer vaccine every week, was superb and worth the drive. The spacious double hall is well laid out, and the Red Cross volunteers who run it are friendly, helpful and efficient. The form you fill in prior to vaccination was available in English and French and everything was calm and organised. It is a real relief that we are both now part of the 22,587,920 people in France who have had their first injection. Reports from the UK today claim that the Pfizer vaccination looks to give 88% protection from the latest Indian variant, once both doses have been administered.

 

As Ed is twenty, I could go back to the continual searching for a last-minute appointment for him, but this week the government announced that from 31^st May, anyone over eighteen will be eligible to book a time that suits. He has quite a bit going on at the moment, so I think it will be much less stressful for both of us, to wait a week.

Adrian's morning coffee at Les Gours

 

With the excitement of vaccinations, the reopening of bar, café and restaurant terraces on Wednesday, seemed to pass me by. Adrian did stop for a coffee on his Thursday morning bike ride, while I was on my yoga mat, but it’s been five days now and I haven’t yet managed to partake. Every evening, when we’ve witnessed clear skies and no wind, we’ve planned a morning coffee ride for the following day. Every morning, we’ve woken up to rain once again. Let’s hope this week brings a bit more warmth, a lot less wind and rain and the chance to get out on the bikes, stretch our legs, clear our heads and enjoy a coffee with a spot of people-watching. It’s the simple things.

 

Keep safe and sane, it will get better.  

Doctolib.fr the site to use to book your vaccinations here in France.

Four friends, a wedding anniversary and a funeral

Outdoor aperos to celebrate our 23rd wedding anniversary

Four friends, a wedding anniversary and a funeral

We are now (hopefully) halfway through our four-week period of confinement and yesterday turned out to be a day of notable milestones. 

 

On the day the Queen laid to rest her husband of seventy-three years, we celebrated our 23^rd wedding anniversary, and ten kilometres into our morning bike ride, I clocked up 10,000 kilometres on my Brompton, KTTinyTourer, exactly two years from when I hit my first 1000 kilometres on her during our Bordeaux to Toulouse cycle touring trip.

 

Morning coffee and a bike ride

Some years we have been away for our anniversary, traveling France by car or by bike, and some years work commitments have kept us apart. This year we celebrated together with a bike ride, stopping to brew our morning coffee (accompanied by flapjacks) on a park picnic table, as there are no bars or cafés open here just yet. Despite keeping to within our ten-kilometre permitted radius, Adrian managed to plan a route that took us down many roads we’d never cycled on before and up a few hills I hadn’t realised existed. 

 

In the afternoon we had a socially distanced aperos in the garden with four friends, food, champagne and laughter. I was torn between watching the TV coverage of the funeral service from Windsor, for its ceremony and its place in history, and not watching something that I felt should have been a private, family goodbye to a husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather. We settled on having the lead-up to the service on in the background as we put the finishing touches to the onion bhajis, houmous and flatbreads.

 

Much as the 19h curfew has become a tad annoying; I’ve decided I actually quite like the fact that our social gatherings have to be done and dusted by 19h. By starting at 16h, we have plenty of time for a few drinks, nibbles and a lot of laughs, all while the sun is shining, leaving me free to have a quiet evening on the sofa. This seems to be a much better fit for my body than evenings that become early mornings, and that often give rise to sore heads the following day.

 

The cutting of the banoffee pie 23 years after the cutting of the wedding cake 

We have a little ritual on our anniversary; the annual viewing of our wedding DVD. We didn’t subject our friends to this, but I might have left a few photos albums on the table alongside the drinks and nibbles, which they politely flicked through. Our evening was then spent watching two much younger looking people celebrating a wedding, with fond memories, not only of a great day, but also of those who were with us then but are no longer with us now.

Views from the bike, within 10km from home

 

This morning we have been out on the bikes again, logging more kilometres #ForBen and the virtual challenge to get from UK to Bangkok and back before the 27^th April. There are still quite a few kilometres to go, so if you’d like to help by logging your walking, running or cycling kilometres, you can do so here. 

Lockdown Diaries, day twenty-five, espressos and armchair travel

Espresso Day, 23rd November

Day twenty-five, Monday 23^rd November 2020

Espresso Day 

It’s Espresso Day today, but then isn’t every day, an espresso day? It certainly is chez-nous, although technically our morning coffees are probably allongés, as much as we love the hit of a decent strength black coffee, we do prefer it a bit longer than the traditional tiny shot favoured by the Italians. However, serve my daily fix in a ‘regular’ bucket (as most UK coffee shop chains seem to do) and I’ll run a mile. My perfect coffee would be served on a sunny terrace with a view, in an attractive little cup, with a sweet biscuit in the saucer. I’d also have to add a square of dark chocolate, minimum 74%, that I’d have packed in my bike bag. Once suitably caffeinated, we’d hop back on the bikes and spend the day cycling the back roads of France and enjoying the stunning scenery and sunshine.

Armchair travel 

As my face enjoyed the warmth of the sun in the garden today, the rest of me was miles away, lost in the pages of an adventure. In life there are those of us who dream and those who do. It has long been a dream for me to cross France, by bike, and La Rochelle to Geneva has been my favoured route, following in the footsteps of Susie Kelly’s solo walk Best Foot Forward. Adrian and I may seem the adventurous types and have tackled some pretty cool holidays by bike, even in this virus-challenged year, but the logistics of getting back again, means a truly epic ride across France is still only at the dream stage. 

 

A few years ago, I was lucky enough to meet Paul and Diana in the planning stages of their Susie Kelly inspired La Rochelle to Lake Geneva charity bike ride. Online at first, we met in person at the end of their second day on the road and we’ve kept in touch since. They had more barriers to overcome than we would, including needing flights to get them and their bikes to La Rochelle and home from Geneva, Paul recovering from an horrific car accident and neither of them being seasoned cyclists. However, they are doers not dreamers and with grit, determination and emotion, made their adventure real. It was a pleasure to have played a small part in their journey and an absolute delight to spend today reading through the book Paul has put together during lockdown. I really hope Naked France will be available to share soon.

 

We did manage a little escape on our bikes this afternoon, combining an essentials shopping trip to Chef Boutonne with a Living Magazine drop at the supermarket. Leaving home once Adrian had finished work for the day, we pedalled furiously in the cold air, as the colours of the sunset rapidly gave way to night. It made me feel alive and for now, trips like this will have to do to satisfy my wanderlust, but it’s not really enough. Cycling might be the perfect post-Covid-19 social-distance-ensured method of travelling, but we have never camped, by bike. The risks to staying every night in a different hotel, without the luggage capacity to pack all our own bedding and towels on the bikes, makes me uneasy. It is sobering to think that we might never be in a position to roam carefree on long distance adventures, where the only risks are cycling safely and ensuring we remain well-fuelled. I guess now is the time to spend plotting routes and planning, as well as reading about the adventures of others. 

La Fête Nationale, 14 juillet

14th July fireworks, Parc de Blossac, Poitiers 2019

Last year our 14^th July celebrations for the Fête Nationale seemed to go on for days, a stark contrast to this Covid-constricted year where nothing is as normal. 

Ed in Melle

Ed had been playing the guitar at a live gig in Melle on 12^th July, the street outside the kebab shop closed to traffic, a ‘stage’ at one end and tables and chairs filling the space at the other, where homemade burgers and chips were served all night to an appreciative crowd.

 

Our village celebrates fête nationale, 2019

Our village has always held its buffet and disco on the evening of 13^th, allowing plenty of opportunity for everyone to head off to neighbouring towns or villages to continue celebrating on the 14^th. Having eaten well, laughed with friends and then danced the night away, I was particularly looking forward to the 14^th.

 

Filling the bin with the patriotic paper tablecloths

First was a bit of clearing up, followed by an apéro with other community-spirited friends, timed to perfection just as the village bell struck midday. Then it was off to the bar over the road to help them celebrate their second anniversary of opening, with more food and music. Although it promised to be a good afternoon, I had to leave early to collect Adrian from Poitiers airport. He’d missed out so far, but with Ed’s flat empty, this gave us the perfect opportunity to enjoy a bit of big town celebrations for the first time. 

 

Parc de Blossac, Poitiers

As dusk began to fall, we headed to Poitiers Parc de Blossac where there was a free live music concert, followed by fireworks. Security was tight, with all bags being searched at the gates and a no alcohol policy strictly implemented. The refreshment tent sold only 0% beer or soft drinks, but it meant there was a friendly and family-focussed atmosphere in the crowd. We found ourselves a space and sat happily people-watching as we waited for the fireworks to begin, and boy were there plenty of people to watch. It didn’t take long before every bit of grass was occupied, and those trying to pick a route through the bodies had to watch for fingers, feet and children, as they found somewhere to squeeze into. For someone used to village life and events of around eighty people, suddenly being one of thousands was rather daunting. The fireworks were fantastic, set off in time to music played so loud the ground vibrated as well as the air from the explosions and light show overhead. It was an amazing experience, but we both agreed, not one we would be in a hurry to repeat as it was a bit of a sensory overload.

 

Breakfast in Poitiers

The morning of the 15^th saw us at an outdoor café in Poitiers town centre enjoying a coffee and croissant, before we headed off for a bike ride and then enjoyed lunch at the most beautifully decorated Moroccan restaurant situated on the cobbled street of Grand’Rue. The interior is a riot of colours, mosaics and lights, a feast for the eyes as much as their tagine plat du jour is for the stomach.

 

#KTTinyTourer carries flowers for picnic

We were back home to enjoy an afternoon bike ride on the 16^th, for Adrian to catch up with the sunflower fields, followed by an evening of free live music in the local village of Pouissay. We met up with friends, folded our bikes, unfolded our tables, opened our picnic hampers and wine bottles and had a fab time. I’d even managed to carry a vase of flowers on the bike to decorate the table, and at the end of the evening we cycled home as the full moon was rising. These five days proved that whether in a big town like Poitiers, or just a small rural village, France certainly knows how to put on a show. It was community events like these, and the joie de vivre they give, that I feared we would miss out on in this extraordinary year.

 

14th July bike ride

This year Ed is with Pearl and her family, experiencing his first French family fête nationale celebrations and having a great time. With no village ‘do’ on the 13^th in our calendar, we almost forgot about celebrating the 14^th completely. We took the bikes out for a 43km ride in the afternoon, a warm and sunny ride that took us through fields of sunflowers, shady tunnels through woods, past an old cart reclining under a tree and stopping for a rest in a waist-high meadow, where I celebrated 2000km cycled so far this year. The evening ended perfectly with friends coming over for apéros in the garden, where the conversation and camaraderie certainly made up for partying we had missed out on. 

 

Back at the village bar for music night

Last night we ventured back to the village bar for our first music night post lockdown. The weather meant we could all safely distance in the garden and all the usual friendly faces were there, just the hugs and kisses that were missing. The music was lifting, we laughed, chatted and sang along, and it felt good, a small return to normal.

 

With many holiday makers from France and elsewhere hitting the west coast for their holidays, virus numbers are on the increase, even for us a little way inland. We still need to be cautious and although masks won’t be obligatory until 1^st August, we don’t leave home without ours.

Comforting coffee and walnut cupcakes

Coffee and walnut cupcakes

Today is going to be a busy day and with Adrian in UK, the running around will all be down to me. Ed is taking his first step to fame and fortune as a real rockstar. As well as an afternoon rehearsal for an upcoming event for the music school he is at, he has been asked to stand in as guitarist for a real band with a real gig in a real bar. 

Perfecting my Rock-Chick look!

This means another rehearsal followed by the event itself this evening, all of which he needs chauffeuring to and from. Add to this the current panic buying of fuel in France, thanks to the manifestations by anyone and everyone (or so it seems) that has affected supply at petrol stations and an orange alert for stormy and windy weather this evening, I decided that I needed a boost. Enter my coffee and walnut cupcakes - sweet, delicious and a real comforting treat. We all have those days when only comfort food will do, so here is my recipe.

115g softened butter

115g caster sugar

2 large eggs, beaten

150g plain flour

1 tsp of baking powder

strong black coffee

1 tbsp of walnut oil (optional)

1 tbsp of walnut flour (optional)

75g softened butter

100g icing sugar

Halved walnuts to decorate

Preheat the oven to gas 4

Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy and then add the walnut oil if you are using it.

Add the beaten eggs, a little at a time and add a spoonful of flour if you are worried about it splitting. Beat until smooth.

Add in the flour, walnut flour and baking powder. Mix well and then add a tablespoon of the cold coffee. If it is still a little thick add a little more coffee.

Divide equally between your cupcake cases, I made 18 small(ish) cupcakes. Bake for about 15 minutes until golden and springy to touch.

Leave to cool on a wire rack.

For the buttercream topping, mix together the butter and icing sugar and add some coffee in small amounts until the desired consistency. Pipe onto the cold cakes and decorate each cake with a walnut half. If your piping is as haphazard as mine, the walnut disguises any mistakes. Enjoy every mouthful, if possible in a quiet and calm place with a cup of coffee on the side.

A Sunday morning coffee and croissant

Coffee and a croissant

My Sunday mornings are all about freshly brewed coffee and a real French croissant, both of which have been in the news this week.

The croissant debate

UK supermarket Tesco has made a controversial decision this week that has had quite some coverage in the press and on social media (see here). The humble croissant will no longer be made in the ‘traditional’ crescent shape by Tesco as shoppers have declared straight ones are easier to spread with jam. What a funny world we live in; this story headlined the British, Irish and French news and possibly further afield too. I also have a few words to say about this story. Firstly, who in their right mind would soil a perfect buttery croissant by spreading it with jam? Nightmare! It is almost as shocking as dunking it in your coffee. Secondly, look closely at my real French village croissant in the photo above. Shock! It’s not crescent shaped and in the eleven and a half years we have lived here and bought croissants from the village boulangerie, they never have been. And, do you know what? They still taste delicious and will always be my special treat on a Sunday morning, so give Tesco a break; there are far more important things to worry about in the world.

Also in the news this week was the story of an unusual funeral that took place in Italy (see here). A 93-year-old man, who I’d never met, but have cause to thank everyday, was laid to rest in a coffee pot. A coffee pot a little larger than mine, but otherwise identical, for this man was Italy’s coffee pot king, Renato Bialetti. The simple aluminium octagonal coffee pot was designed and patented by his father Alfonso in 1933, but it was Renato who dedicated his life to ensuring their coffee pot became a kitchen ‘must-have’ for families all over the world, bringing quality coffee to the home. Thank you Renato, I wouldn’t want to be without my Bialetti and have even been known to take it away on holiday. May you rest in peace and I’ll be raising my daily coffee cup in your memory.

Whatever the shape of your croissant, or preference for jam or no jam, I hope you have a peaceful Sunday.