Advent Day Fifteen, Little Donkey

My new friend

Advent Day Fifteen, Little Donkey

“Little donkey, little donkey,

On the dusty road

Got to keep on plodding onwards

With your precious load”

 

Little Donkey was one of my favourite Christmas carols when I was growing up, and I had riding lessons, many moons ago, on Shetland ponies – yes, I was the short, chubby kid on the short, chubby pony. Sadly, after falling off one too many times, I lost my confidence and that is where my love for horses ended.

8-year-old me, with a Shetland pony in 1979

 

My bicycle is my pony, taking me off on wild adventures to pastures new, and since falling in love with cycling, I have never felt the need to swap it for a horse. I watch way too many Ambulance, A&E and Helicopter Medics programmes to feel happy around horses. I know you can fall off your bike and suffer injuries, but it is rarely the bike’s fault, unlike horses, who seem to enjoy throwing off their riders and then kicking or stamping on them for good measure. I’d go so far as to admit to having thought them a little bit evil, until I was introduced to equitherapie or equitherapy - the broad term for a range of equine-assisted activities for people who have physical, emotional, cognitive, or social difficulties.

 

The local Mellois branch of the France Alzheimer association, run by two French ladies, reached out a few weeks ago, in desperate need for some bilingual volunteers. Set up in 2017, with one volunteer supporting four families, it has now grown to two volunteers helping sixteen families, two of whom are British. Each month they run a number of different sessions for both patients and carers, including games therapy afternoons, walks, talking therapy sessions and an equitherapy afternoon at the local riding stables.

The Alzheimer's support group equitherapie session

 

Today was my first volunteer session where I met T and his wife and helped with the translation as he got to grips with grooming his horse Narciss, checking her hooves and walking her around the paddock. Despite this being the first time in many years he had been near a horse, he bravely agreed to mount and enjoyed walking around the arena with the others, although I think he was more taken with the grooming than the riding. There were certainly lots of smiles from everyone as they bonded with the (thankfully) docile beasts.

 

Afterwards, there was time for chatting, coffee drinking and cake eating before we wished each other a bonnes fêtes. I will definitely be back to help out again next year. 

Time is a funny thing

Early morning light in Melle, Deux-Sevres

Time is a funny thing

 

Before the blackbirds began their pre-dawn chorus this morning, we were both up, showered and breakfasted. I’d rummaged in the freezer for a soup for lunch and a quick peek outside revealed just how dark it is before the village streetlights flicker into life. The washing machine and dishwasher had both run before the overnight cheaper electric ended at seven o’clock and the washing was hung out, albeit in the dark. 

Fresh off the ferry in Dieppe

 

We have only been home from the UK for a few days, so we lost an hour last Friday lunchtime as our ferry crossed into French time. We then gained an hour in the early hours of Sunday morning as we said goodbye to European summertime and our early start today was because Adrian is working with clients from Abu Dhabi who are three hours ahead of us, or four hours ahead of the UK. By the time the village church bells rang the midday Angelus, his working day was almost over, even if our body clocks had no idea whether it was lunchtime, dinnertime or siesta time. 

 

One thing I do know is that I need to make time for my yoga class this evening, even if it means more juggling of mealtimes. Time spent in the UK meant time away from the yoga mat, and yesterday was an off-the-scale busy day that saw us leave the house before seven thirty in the morning (for Adrian’s annual fasting blood test in Melle), followed by my last day at the Château, and I didn’t get home until fifteen minutes before my quarter to nine (in the evening) class was due to begin. Funnily enough I opted for time with Adrian, dinner, and a glass of wine, instead of yoga.

 

Halloween

When we arrived in France eighteen years ago, Halloween was low key. Our village had a few enthusiastic mums and lots of elderly mamies keen to see the dressed-up little ones and ply them with sweets. Everyone met outside the village hall early in the afternoon and together with our little monsters we would traipse around the streets filling up on bonbons. Long before darkness had fallen, we were all safely home where the fatigue of a long afternoon walking, fought against the inevitable sugar-rush from the Carambars. Time has moved on; Ed has grown up and I’ve realised just how out of touch I am with Halloween. 

A hidden pumpkin at Château de Javarzay

 

A few months ago, Halloween at the Château de Javarzay was mentioned. Should we close the season on a high with something special on Halloween for the children? It falls during the school holidays here in France and from November, the château will be closed until next spring. The answer was a unanimous YES. We found Halloween colouring sheets, all featuring castles with turrets and towers, just like our château. Decorations were hung in the entrance, and we teamed up with the library to end the day with a fun story time for the four-to-six-year-olds. Following on from the success of our Easter egg hunt, we hid twenty numbered paper pumpkins in and around the château, and each group were given an answer sheet to fill in where they’d found the pumpkins. Sweets and colouring sheets were given to all successful hunters. 

Halloween at the Château de Javarzay

 

I was expecting a slow trickle of families throughout the afternoon, the children dressed up in simple outfits, like Ed and his friends had over fifteen years ago. I was wrong. From the moment we opened the doors at two o’clock, until we cashed up at half past six and let the librarians take over, we were inundated with families and groups. There were witches, devils, skeletons, mad scientists, super heroes and more, plus it wasn’t just the children who were dressed up, the mums and dads had 100% entered into the spirit of Halloween with outfits, face paints and accessories. It proved to be one of our busiest days of the season with the only downside being we massively underestimated the quantity of sweets needed. Some of our visitors had driven over an hour just to join in our Halloween experience and although it was an activity aimed at the children, there were plenty of triumphant parent faces too when they’d successfully found all the pumpkins, especially our golden pumpkin. We had so many positive comments on the château visit and the fun they’d had, I was blown away.

Our village cemetery on Toussaint

 

Yesterday was All Hallows’ Eve, today is a public holiday in France for Toussaint, All Saints’ Day and tomorrow is All Souls’ Day, a day to remember those we have lost. Nothing quite says Autumn to me like the carpet of flowering chrysanthemums we see outside florists and garden centres, destined to add colour to the cemeteries here in France. Family members will have made time over the last few days to tidy graves and leave their potted chrysanthemums to remember their loved ones. 

A carpet of chrysanthemums

Our UK visit was for Dad’s funeral, which despite the circumstances, was a day filled with family, friends and a lot of laughter, just as he would have wanted it to be. Ed was nothing short of awesome as he played the guitar and sang one of Dad’s favourite Irish songs during the service and we couldn’t be prouder of him. He’s certainly come a long way since the timid little pumpkin of 2004, not too keen on scary costumes and always the last one in the doorstep sweetie grab. How time flies.

Our little pumpkin 2006

The tree of the year

The tree of the year 2021

August 

 

As our third canicule (heatwave) of 2022 gets going with temperatures of 35º as I write this, it has struck me that not only has the beginning of August often been significant for us over the years, but its weather can be unpredictably changeable too. One year ago, we helped Ed and Pearl move into their new flat and the first photos of them on their balcony shows them in long trousers and jumpers, dodging the rain – something we got quite used to doing last August.

 

Two years ago, we were in the Pyrenees having conquered the Col d’Aubisque and the Col du Tourmalet, among other iconic mountain passes, on our Bromptons in temperatures that reached the high 30’s. Our next stop was the Pays Basques, where the cols might be lower, the mountain profiles less jagged, but the gradients of the climbs are killers – although we can’t wait to return.

 

Three years ago, we were in London celebrating all things bike, including enjoying the Brompton factory tour, the London Freecycle and completing the Ride London 46 sportive (46 miles or 80 km). In a sea of lycra and high-end road bikes, we did it on our Bromptons, with huge smiles on our faces and I was wearing a dress.

 

Four years ago, Ed had just completed the Ride London 46, raising money for the mental health charity MIND on the coldest, wettest August day you could imagine.

 

Five years ago, we were into the final preparations for our Tour de Rêves four-hundred-and-fifty-kilometre charity bike ride around the Deux-Sèvres department raising money for a children’s make a wish association.

 

Probably the most significant event was eighteen years ago, when we were just days away from packing the cars and moving our lives to France – although how has it been 18 years, I have no idea. Our arrival in France coincided with the end of a heatwave and the beginning of a wet and stormy few weeks.

The V93 between Melle and Celles-sur-Belle

holiDAYS out and about

 

Memories and good times are not always about the big events in life or the long-distance adventures, or even the impressive mountains we climb, sometimes it’s the simple things that put a big smile on my face. This summer, rather than going away for a holiday we are making the most of our holiDAYS out and about, mostly involving the bikes.

 

This week’s first adventure might have only been a twenty-one-kilometre bike ride from the local market town of Melle, but with some clever planning it was still a fabulous day out. We set off along the old railway line voie verte (green way) that is now part of the V93 cycle route, that crosses the southern end of the Deux-Sèvres department. It has been a favourite route for us for more years than I care to remember and comes into its own on a hot summer day.

 

We took our time to enjoy the cool, shady path, where trees and ferns line the sides of the old railway cutting, and it feels like you are in a green tunnel, before you emerge back out into sunshine and fields of sunflowers all around. It is only eight kilometres to Celles-sur-Belle, but rather than follow it all the way, we dropped down at a bridge to make an exciting detour. 

The tree of the year 2021

The tree of the year 

Last year, a local chestnut tree was voted l’arbre d’année (tree of the year) and cycling to see it was on my summer wish list. Sitting at a crossroads of quiet, rural lanes this chestnut tree, named "La talle à teurtons" which roughly translates from the old French dialect as the people’s tree, is thought to be at least six hundred years old. It is mostly hollow on the inside, with patterns on the gnarly bark that were mesmerising and had to be touched, traced and hugged. Over the years it has held a reputation as a meeting point, where lovers could conceal themselves within its trunk, although we saw no evidence of any secret trysts. It was difficult to drag ourselves away from such magnificence, but there were other local treasures awaiting us.

Lavoir de Villiers in Melle

Melle 

Back onto the V93, we stopped at a shady bench by a spring and enjoyed a homemade flapjack, before heading back to Melle, arriving via one of the most impressive lavoir (wash houses) in the area. 

Lavoir de Villiers Melle

The oval pool surrounded by a cobbled path, reflects the stonework of the temple-like structure with high arched windows. The traditional lavoir roof was designed to encourage air flow while allowing some protection from the elements for the women doing their weekly washing.

Les Rêves du Monde, Melle

 

Our first point of call in Melle was the church of St Pierre, one of three impressive Romanesque churches in the town. Every two years Melle puts on a contemporary art festival that this year has the theme of Les Rêves du Monde (the dreams of the world). Outside the church, we found our first art display, a collection of wooden bricks that children of all ages can use to build their dreams. Having built a mini tower, while Adrian looked on, we set off to the marketplace, admiring the super cycling facilities outside the office du tourisme – lockable bike parking, with power for charging batteries and a fully equipped tool station with air pump.

Melle cycling facilities

 

The kiosque, or bandstand, housed another art installation, the lattice work creating some stunning light and shadow patterns. We then followed the narrow streets of the old town ramparts, passed the summer beach at the Hôtel de Ménoc, which isn’t a hotel, but was a noble family home that in parts dates to the fourteenth century and is now an exhibition space. Our final destination was the St Hilaire church where the ornate stone carvings, especially of the knight on his horse are always worth a moment of careful inspection.

 

Eglise St Hilarie, Melle

We are incredibly lucky to have all this on our doorstep, but sometimes it is easy to forget that there is always something to see, we just have to make the time to slow down and enjoy what is around us.

 

Thank you for all your lovely comments on Ed and Pearl’s challenging week. I’m happy to report that their second week went without a hitch, and they packed in lots of days out before safely returning their first set of holiday makers to Poitiers. They are currently in a beautiful gîte situated in the middle of a forest in the Creuse. The trees are proving a cool and calm oasis from the heatwave raging outside of the forest - proof, if any were needed, that it is essential we plant more trees, everywhere.

  

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.

Images of Poitou and the Pays Mellois

Poitiers, one of the largest French cities in the Middle Ages

Des Racines et Des Ailes du Poitou aux Iles des Charentes. 

French TV doesn’t seem to have many fans in the English-speaking community here. We all know we should watch it, for cultural, current affairs and language reasons, but there are many reasons not to. With games shows, dubbed US series and lots of films, following in French isn’t easy and when you are tired at the end of the day, a bit of relaxing, watching something familiar, in English, without having to think, is often what is needed. I get that.

A recent programme on French TV that I did watch and enjoy was Des Racines et Des Ailes du Poitou aux Iles des Charentes, set in our local area. Des Racines et Des Ailes (the roots and the wings) is a long-running French series where each episode highlights a particular area of France, focusing both on the history (the roots) and stunning aerial photography (the wings).

 

Parthenay

At two hours, it was a rather long programme, but as we flew over the chateaux and medieval forts (our area was once a boundary to be defended between French-ruled France and English-ruled France), took a tour of Aliénor of Aquitaine’s 12^thCentury Poitiers and got a close-up look at artisan life on the Atlantic islands of our region, this programme had it all and time flew by.

 

Ile de Ré

I learned more about the Protestant history of the Pays Mellois, where worshipers had to meet in secret, but it was their presence in the area that resulted in the small town of Celles-sur-Belle becoming home to a huge Abbey and church; a statement piece to showcase Catholicism. I also discovered sea turtles are common in our Atlantic waters and those who are unfortunate to be washed up on the beaches (they can be around 40 years old and weigh almost 60kgs) are cared for in a sanctuary attached to the aquarium in La Rochelle, before being released off the Ile de Ré. Plus, now I know more about the history of Poitiers, I need to make a return visit as my list of sights to see has grown.

If you get the chance to watch any episodes of this series, with a bit of French I’m sure you will learn a lot, and even without the language, the scenery will make it worth your while.

Pays Mellois

Méli our local mascot

Our local tourist office has also produced a new series of short promotional videos about the Pays Mellois, the first of which you can watch below, and I’ll leave the link on the blog sidebar for future views. In it you will meet Méli, our local (goat) mascot, who loves to share this special area almost as much as I do.

Lazy Sunday in France, a trip to Melle market

Welcome to another Lazy Sunday in France, where today I am taking you to one of my favourite local markets. 

Dappled shade at Melle market

The Friday morning market in our local town of Melle used to be a regular feature for us, until three years ago when Ed started at the lycée there. Having driven the 50km round trip on a Monday morning to get him to school, then again on Tuesday evening to collect him for his guitar lesson in Celles-sur-Belle, then back in on Wednesday for another music lesson and once more on a Friday afternoon to collect him from school, an additional drive for market on a Friday morning didn’t seem very appealing.

Blue sky and clock tower at Melle market

This week however, Adrian was at home, the sun was shining, and I had an unexpected morning off work, (having swapped my Friday morning for a Wednesday morning) which gave me a nice four-day weekend, and I felt like I was on holiday. We decided to treat ourselves to a wander around Melle market and I’m so glad we did, I’ve missed it.

Inside the Melle market halle

Melle is classified as a Petite Cité de Caractère, a status that is generally awarded to towns, often in rural areas, that have buildings of historical interest, but that over the years have seen a reduction in their administrative function along with the population decline and reduced funding for their heritage that goes along with this. Melle has three magnificent Romanesque churches, is a major point on the Chemin de St Jacques pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostelle in Spain and a very pretty market town that is defiantly worth a visit. 

Organic wholewheat pasta at Melle market

I hope you enjoy these photos taken on our stroll around market on Friday morning.

Coffee and patisserie at Café Boulevard in Melle

If you would like to be involved in a future Lazy Sunday in France post, maybe you are a writer, a blogger or run an independent business in France and have something you think would be ideal to be included, please do get in touch.

Tour de Rêves Day One

Tour de Rêves Day One route

Three weeks ago today I was tired, but rather pleased with myself, having completed the first 94km of our Tour de Rêves charity cycling adventure around the Deux-Sèvres. In six days we covered 437km and experienced all the terrain the Deux-Sèvres can offer, from the flat windy low-lands of the Marais Poitevin in the west, to the hilly côtes along the Thouet and Argenton rivers in the north, accompanied with all the weather imaginable, except snow and hail, thankfully.

In Secondigny for the Tour de Rêves grand depart

Day one was planned to be our longest day of cycling and as we had an hour and half drive from home to Sarah and Rob’s in Secondigny, central Deux-Sèvres and our start point for the ride, it was an early start for Adrian and I. I’d love to tell you that we were bubbling with excitement as we set off, watching the sun rise on a clear and perfect September day, but I can’t. It was a chilly start to the day and the further north we went the mistier the weather became, until eventually we were driving through rain and low cloud. Our clean bikes were getting wet before we’d even begun, our moods were sombre and the disappointment that September, whose days are usually warm and cloudless, was letting us down when we needed a boost, took away any excitement we should have been feeling.

After a quick coffee at Sarah and Rob’s we freewheeled down the hill to the square by the Mairie in Secondigny, hoping a few brave souls would challenge the rain and be there to wave us off. The small crowd of family, friends and the Maire was so much more than I’d expected and lots of photos and smiles and good wishes certainly helped to warm our damp start. 

First coffee stop in Verruyes

We even had four cyclists mad enough to join us for the morning, which meant those first kilometres were full of chatter and laughter, as well as rain.

St Maixent L'Ecole for lunch

I had imagined the first half of day one to be challengingly hilly, so was pleasantly surprised when we arrived in St Maixent L’Ecole, having covered 37km (out of 94km), that not only had I done it, but that it hadn’t been as bad as I was expecting it to be. We had a change of support cyclists here, the morning guys peeled off, promising to return later in the week, and two of the afternoon three were kind enough to invite us into their home and feed us lunch before we set off again. I knew to expect more hills in the afternoon as some of our training rides had been route-testing the valleys north of Melle, but psychologically climbing hills I’ve done before seems easier than facing new ones. All of a sudden, day one, with it’s 94km of undulating countryside, was looking possible. We even had sun instead of rain some of the way and were a happy bunch of cyclists.

In Melle for an afternoon beer

It was quite exciting to arrive in Melle as not only were Ed and Ade’s Mum waiting for us with some friends, we were also met by a journalist from the local paper, who took our photos in front of one of the impressive Romanesque churches as well as asking us all about our trip. We were within 26km of home and the end of day one, but at this point tiredness was creeping up on us and the rain reappeared. It was tempting to cycle into the village quietly and head for home, where warm showers and clean clothes were waiting for us before the small apero reception our Maire had planned for later on. However, we pulled into the village square where the war memorial stands in front of the church, and the sound of clapping and cheering could be heard from a crowd of friends and neighbours sheltering from the rain while waiting our arrival. It was an unexpected high at the end of a long day and despite feeling tired and hungry, the excitement that had been lacking in the morning was back and we couldn’t wait to get started on day two.

From our first journalist encounter in Melle

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