Chateaux hunting in the Charente

La Rochefoucauld Chateau

As 2026, and life in general, hurtles by at an ever-increasing pace, last weekend gave us a welcome pause and time to reconnect.

Gallerie 16, Chef Boutonne

Saturday morning saw me giving a brief talk about the history of the Château de Javarzay at a local art gallery, and while this may seem a little close to work, it actually mentally prepared me for this coming weekend’s opening of the château. My mind could retrieve the knowledge stored over winter, dust it off and make sure all was where it should be. 

Gallerie 16, Chef Boutonne

Gallerie 16, in the heart of Chef Boutonne, is a wonderful venue and so much more for the community than just an art gallery. As well as showcasing the works of local artists, the gallery, run by a dynamic woman who is as passionate as I am about promoting our area, holds regular events and talks in its delightful setting. It was an honour for me to be invited along to share my local knowledge with a welcoming and appreciative audience.

Opening weekend festivities at the Chateau de Javarzay, Chef-Boutonne

This year, the opening of the château tourist season will be vibrant as the colours and costumes of Venice and its carnival come to life. The opening weekend usually marks the start of my working year but not this year. My role at the Chef Boutonne council has evolved into a full-time position, splitting my time between the library and the château, as well as other communication tasks, including social media posts and event posters, working in a dynamic and supportive team of creative women. It really is a dream role for me.

Hedgerow blossoms in March

Sunday proved to be just as awakening. The weather was perfect for a bike ride, so we set off for a 50 km châteaux hunt, in the Charente. The frost and snow of early January, that were followed by storms and flooding in February, have given way to a lush and vibrant March. The wildflowers in the verges: cowslips, wild daffodils, aconites and snake’s head fritillaries, seem more prolific than ever this year, and the first hedgerow blossoms (that will hopefully give way to sloes in autumn) are stunning to look at and alive with bees. 

La Rochette

It was a delight to be out and about, butterflies trying to keep pace with me one minute, bird song breaking through my thoughts another. We paused in La Rochette to admire the turreted château and the Romanesque Church, with special mention going to its stone carvings and gilded altar. Our destination was La Rochefoucauld, which is home to a very impressive Renaissance château whose family have links with the Château de Javarzay. I hadn’t realised it would be open for visits, so that treat will have to wait for another day, but we did have time to explore the town and learn about its history thanks to the Terra Aventura geocaching app, and treat ourselves to a flan from a boulangerie - that was open on a Sunday afternoon, in rural France, in March. What a win!

The Romanesque church, La Rochette, Charente

While cycling has still featured to get to and from work this winter (when it’s not been stormy), our last 50 km day on the bikes was five months ago, when we were in the Creuse for a few days in October. While the weather isn’t entirely to blame for this, work and two trips back to England have played their part too, almost half a year without a cycling day trip adventure is crazy. I hadn’t appreciated how much I’d missed it, and it was a real tonic for the mind and body. Luckily, we have a few mini adventures in the pipeline this spring.

It's been a long winter, this week

Frosty trees at Javarzay
photo credit Edward Brown

It’s been a long winter, this week

A week ago, we arrived back in France having spent Christmas and New Year in England with our families. We had been spoiled rotten, meals out, centrally heated houses with plush carpeted floors, and weather kind enough to allow us to wrap up warmly and walk regularly. France hasn’t been so gentle on us; in fact, this week has been a bit of a shock to the system.

With Mum on New Year's Eve

Our journey home was rather exciting with a ferry full to bursting and way more French being spoken around us than English, followed by a dark drive in Normandy on roads that were edged in white and glowed ominously in the car headlights. As we made our way to a hotel just north of Rouen, the satnav, that has ideas of intelligence way above reality, sent us deep into the undulating countryside, where we crept along deserted roads whose surfaces resembled ice-rinks, all to avoid a one-way system on the final approach to the hotel car park. 

The drive home the following day began at -6º and alternated between freezing cold with sunshine, and freezing fog which decorated the trees in a beautiful, sparkling hoary frost. You could say it was a day where everything was freezing, but on our arrival home, the fridge-freezer in the kitchen was anything but freezing. I guess after over twenty-one years of sterling service, it was bound to pack up at some point, but to choose a week when we weren’t here was a little unfair. The first task having unpacked the car, was to throw most of the contents of the freezer into bin bags and to make up a soup with what could be saved. The second task was to call the water company, fill up as many pans of water as possible and then turn the water back off as while the fountain from the stopcock tap was pretty, it wasn’t a feature we needed. Welcome home and Happy New Year!

Snow on the back gate

The week then threw us from one challenging meteorological state to another as we lunged from an orange alert for snow on Tuesday, that became an ice-rain warning on Wednesday, only to be replaced with the strong winds and rain warning on Thursday and Friday as storm Goretti appeared from the Bay of Biscay. Deep joy. The bikes were left untouched and the car too on Tuesday and Wednesday, as I set up office on the dining room table and clicked away on my laptop preparing the spreadsheets for the 2026 season at the château as well as some promotional bits and bobs for upcoming château and library events.

New fridge-freezer safely loaded onto lovely friend's trailer

It was a relief to get to the weekend having survived 48 hours with no running water, a week using the porch as a fridge and thankfully missed the worst of storm Goretti, whose full force hit further north. Saturday was an exciting outing to buy a new fridge-freezer, and Sunday was celebrated with our first bike ride of the year. It is unusual for us to go so long without cycling as we are not generally only fair-weather cyclists, but the winter this week was intense. I’m crossing my fingers for a calmer second half to January and as I spotted some snowdrops this morning, the signs of spring won’t be far behind.

The first bike ride of 2026

Don’t forget, if you want to know the dates for the public and school holidays in France this year, and how other notable dates are celebrated, click here to read my traditional 1^st of January post. 

Poitou-Charentes legends - the cries through the fog

A misty evening in the Deux-Sèvres

Looking back over the last twenty years, autumn days that began with a foggy start, nearly always became hot, sunny afternoons, so much so, opening the shutters to the morning mist, made me smile. This year once more, the weather has thrown a new pattern at us and there have been many days where the sun tried, but failed, to break through the foggy start. 

 

In our department of the Deux-Sèvres in western France, Meteo France reported that on average, September this year was 80% wetter than normal and October 45%, with some hillier areas (around Parthenay) recording levels of rain 150% higher than they are used to. It is no surprise that soil humidity levels have also reached record highs for this time of year, feeding the hungry fog monster that seems reluctant to share with the sunshine. All this just one year on from water restrictions that were brought in mid-October, alongside news articles reporting record low levels in the water table.

 

Foggy fields in the Deux-Sèvres

The low cloud and grey skies this year have at times made me feel quite claustrophobic, and that was before this misty phase began, so I am really hoping this won’t become a new norm thanks to climate instability. Despite my woes, we have fared better than those who live just a bit further north from us, around the Loire valley, where a local news report stated a weather station in Angers hasn’t registered one minute of sunshine in the last ten days. This week, as we celebrated a sunny start with a cycle ride into Chef-Boutonne for morning coffee with friends, we could see the dark, purple bruise of fog looming low on the horizon to our north. 

 

Ile de Ré, Charente-Maritime

Now the 2024 season at the Château de Javarzay is over, I have had more time on my hands to dive into some reading about the legends of the Poitou-Charentes and in particular, places we have visited. When I found one that talked of foggy nights, and an historical battle on Ile de Ré that took place on 8^th November, nearly four hundred years ago, I knew it needed more investigation.

 

Our area has a fascinating link to the rise of the Protestant religion, thanks mainly to the trade routes between Poitiers and the port at La Rochelle. Poitiers university is one of the oldest in France, dating from 1431 and whereas the Sorbonne in Paris had no sympathy for the new religious ideas of the Protestants, they found the academics at Poitiers to be more accommodating. The Protestants felt that the Catholic Church had become too powerful, too corrupt and was making too much money. They wanted a religion that was accessible to everyone, not just those who read Latin, and where simple prayer was more important than the worshipping of relics and paying the church for forgiveness. Their ideas began to spread, mainly with the merchants who were moving towards La Rochelle with wheat, as the limestone rich soil here produced a drier grain that was less likely to rot when loaded onto the sea-going vessels. The inevitable clashes between the supporters of the two religions led to a turbulent time.

 

Sablanceaux beach, Ile de Ré

In 1627, La Rochelle was under siege as Cardinal Richelieu and the troops of Louis XIII closed in around the Protestant stronghold. In June, the Duke of Buckingham had arrived on the Atlantic coast island of the Ile de Ré with eighty boats and around four thousand men, to support the Protestants in La Rochelle. The English landed on the beach in Sablanceaux and gained control of the island from the governor, the Count of Toiras, holding it for three months, until Richelieu sent four thousand troops over from the mainland. 

La Couarde-sur-mer with Loix in the distance, Ile de Ré

The retreating English had one objective, to head west to rejoin their boats moored near Loix. On the 8^th November, at the wooden bridge in Feneau, between La Couarde-sur-mer and Loix, a bloody battle ensued that saw the losses of over two thousand English soldiers and two hundred of their horses. It is said that if you are out on foggy nights on the marshlands around Feneau, the cries and eery moaning of the English soldiers can still be heard, along with a dull voice repeating “tue (kill), tue, tue…” – the echo of the soul of the French troops harangued by their superiors to finish off the English.

 

A typical souvenir shop on Ile de Ré

I’m happy to report that the Ile de Ré is a much more peaceful place to visit these days and somewhere we enjoy cycling, although only outside of the main tourist season. It might no longer be a battleground, but it is still witness to an invasion of thousands of holidaymakers every summer. I wonder how many of them know about the bloody history of the island, or have heard the cries in the fog as they leave the main tourist paths and venture into the marshlands?

 

 

  

La vie est Belle

A bike ride along the river Belle, Deux-Sèvres

La Vie est Belle

 

September, how could you, my birth month, have been so disappointing weatherwise this year? I have vivid memories of September 2004, our first full month in France, where temperatures regularly topped 30º, breakfasts, lunches and dinners were eaten outside, and it seemed summers in France would go on forever.

Looking back on twenty years of photos, sunny days, hot bike rides, touristy days out under blue skies, and sultry vistas of our orchard looking crisp and dry at the end of the season are far more common than the low-hung grey skies, vivid greens of soggy water-logged land and the stormy days you have showered on us this year.

Had we been blessed with a summer of endless sunny days a moist September might have come as a welcome relief. As it was, summer had hardly seemed to get going as August drew to a close, and I was eagerly anticipating a September where foggy mornings gave way to hot afternoons, where despite the shortening of the days, evenings were still warm enough to be outdoor events. The disappointment of a September that has been so far from my expectations has been hard to accept.

Terra Aventura parcours, Exireuil, Deux-Sèvres

As October arrives, so does the ominous date of the 14^th, marking exactly one year since the weather turned, becoming wet and unsettled following a gorgeous six-week period of late summer heat. This year, I think I’d be hard pushed to count six decent, hot days in the last six weeks, but I do know we have made the most of them, often following the routes and answering the questions on the Terra Aventura geocaching app. This has seen us clambering over boulders in the river gorge, as we explored les puits d’enfer (hell’s wells) in Exireuil, alongside the military town of Saint-Maixent-l’Ecole in the Deux-Sèvres, as well as discovering hidden gems in Civray and Charroux in the Vienne.

A September sunset ride

The Bromptons continue to be our faithful companions, whether to and from work, enjoying rarely glimpsed sunsets after work, or the glowing autumnal colours of Chef-Boutonne on market day. We also discovered the Belle valley, less than thirty kilometres from home, where lavoirs, lost lanes and fairy bridges hidden in the trees reminded us that la vie est belle, life is beautiful (whatever the weather).

Sunshine in Charmé, Charente

I have yet to cycle my traditional 100km in a day birthday bike ride, something I have been doing since September 2015, although we did manage a fabulous 93km on the 20^th September. Our route took us through the Charente vineyards ripe with fruit, past Romanesque churches, lavoirs and fields of sunflowers with drooping seed heads, awaiting harvest. In Mansle, on the banks of the Charente River, we enjoyed a coup de soleil from a local patisserie. This new to us delight had a base of an apricot clafoutis with a lightly whipped topping of crème patisserie and Chantilly cream and was a real burst of sunshine in our mouths. Sadly, with storm clouds and thunder rolling in around us, we didn’t risk adding on the required seven kilometres to hit the 100. Ten days later and it seems the stormy showers and high winds, although interspersed with sunny spells, are still with us. I’ve had enough. Like the lizards I watch soaking up the heat on the steps of the château, I need to recharge my solar panels before winter arrives.

I can only hope that October gives us some respite from the cold and damp before winter truly sets in. 

  

The good, the bad and the ugly of life in rural France

Sunflowers and sunny skies

As we approach our twentieth anniversary of arriving in France, we have experienced the good, the bad and the ugly of rural French life - and all in one week. 

Note - to keep things on a happy note, all the photos in this blog are from our days out enjoying the sunshine.

The Cognac vineyards

The good

Since my last post about the year without a summer, we were treated to almost four continuous days of sunshine and heat, which miraculously coincided with days off work for both of us. It would have been the ideal time to head away, but that wasn’t possible with Mini the dog’s age-related issues – which are to be expected now she is 16 ½. Not ones to waste our days lounging around, we set off on the bikes every afternoon, exploring some hidden gems in the Charente vineyards, and Marais-Poitevin marshes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on our skin. This felt so good after bike rides in the rain, cycling into head winds, or summer commutes cool enough to cause goosepimples and runny noses. There is something quite special about real summer cycling where you learn to appreciate the subtle temperature changes as you ride into the shade of the trees, or follow a cooling river, enjoying the caressing breeze as you move through the air.

 

We drank in the endless vistas of smiling sunflowers, saw young deer sheltering in the vineyards, dusty combine harvesters working the wheat fields, and stopped to admire old lavoirs or wash houses. We fuelled our 235kms of pedalling with patisserie stops where croissants, éclairs (coffee and Grand Marnier) and tartelettes (apple and lemon) were appreciated on shady benches. Summer in rural France is good.

 

Grand Marnier éclair

The bad

Despite getting much less usage than the bikes, the time had come to replace all four tyres on our car. Adrian got a few online quotes before booking an appointment at Feu Vert in Niort, paying up front as requested. We live about an hour’s drive from Niort and as we approached the garage, in plenty of time for our appointment, the phone rang. The line wasn’t good, but I understood enough to realise that the tyres hadn’t been delivered, so they were calling to cancel the appointment to fit them. This was frustrating. They had taken our money four days ago and we’d now committed to a two-hour round trip, to coincide with our days off, and had nothing to show for it. Had we lived closer, we might have been able to save ourselves the wasted journey, but this is one of the downsides to living in rural France. Thankfully, it wasn’t all bad as cancelling the order was straightforward and the full refund arrived within the 48 hours promised. Adrian is now back online, searching and checking availability of four low-profile, all-season tyres.

 

Romanesque church, Charente

The ugly

Heading out and about from the village this last week, the vehicles we have seen more of even than the combine harvesters, have been Gendarme vans, normally a pretty unusual sight around here. There were convoys of them in Niort, heavily manned check points appeared on the way in and out of Chef-Boutonne and the only car that we saw on the quiet backroads heading to the château on Sunday morning, was a Gendarme. The reason for this activity is the controversial construction of mega-bassines or huge water reservoirs, that has put our local area on the global map.

 

The idea behind the reservoirs is that farmers who irrigate their crops build a reservoir, fill it from the rivers over winter, so they won’t run out of water during the drier summer months. Sounds simple, but this causes a massive imbalance for the local ecosystem and water table levels, that affects us all, purely for the benefit of a few farmers who choose to grow water-thirsty (mainly maize) crops. Add to this the huge financial costs to their construction, that are massively funded by the state, along with the responsibility we all have to conserve water, and this has become a highly controversial topic. Greta Thunberg was among the activists visiting the pop-up water village in Melle over the weekend, and she shared the following about the reservoirs on social media:

 

“Construction of mega-basins have accelerated in recent years partly as a result of the climate crisis and more intense and frequent droughts. But this is no way a solution…This only digs us deeper into an already deeply flawed policy-system that benefits big agro-industrial interests representing a small minority of farmers, while ruining the environment and destabilising the climate”.

Cycling the Sèvre Niortais in the Marais Poitevin

 

I am not a fan of the bassines, but when thousands of protestors from all over the world arrive in our quiet corner of France, accompanied by thousands more Gendarmes, riot police and helicopters, the situation quickly got ugly. Whilst many protestors were genuine, there were others who had weapons confiscated, and I can’t help but think of the negative environmental impact of all these extra vehicles on the roads.

 

So as not to finish on an ugly note, something else happened last week that highlights why we are happy with our rural French village life. At the same moment we were about to fill the boot of the car with lots of garden waste to take to the tip eight kilometres away, the village gardener’s truck pulled up outside and Monsieur began to unload the commune’s lawnmower. When he saw what we were doing, he took one side of our loaded groundsheet and with Adrian’s help emptied it into the truck, saving us an afternoon’s work. That is why he will always find a cup of coffee by our front gate when he turns up to mow the patch outside our house in the mornings.

 

Tartlettes au citron et aux pommes

I’m working this week, so I hope summer returns and encourages lots of visitors to enjoy all that the Château de Javarzay has to offer. 

The year without a summer

Arriving at work in the rain, June 2024

Yesterday was the 14th of July, France’s fête nationale, and as I welcomed the morning visitors into the Château de Javarzay (and out of the rain), we were all in agreement, the weather this year is rotten.

 

“It’s more like autumn than summer, I’ve put my coat on to come out today” exclaimed one lady and another agreed, “I thought the weather this spring was bad, but summer is no better so far”.

 

It’s depressing, and the longer the gloom of cloudy days that block out the sunshine hang over us, the lower our moods are slipping. I know the blog has been quiet, aside from the book review tours I’ve signed-up to do, and this ongoing lack of sunlight has certainly played its part.

 

Water restrictions

Way back on 13^th of October, when the sun still shone consistently for days in a row, we were put on water usage restrictions. The water table was at an all-time low and rain (or the lack of it) was on everyone’s lips. As if to prove that she had the upper hand, Mother Nature sent in the rain on 14th of October, and there are some days when it’s hard to remember a week without heavy rainy days, strong winds or storms since then. By Christmas, the water table was at a healthy level, by Easter, it was full to bursting and many local rivers flooded, the water rising to levels not seen in over forty years. There are still waterlogged areas in some of the local fields and the summer sunflower crops are late, the first flowers only just beginning to open.

The level of the Boutonne river, December 2023

 

We are now sun deprived and fatigued by the rapid growth rate of the grass and weeds that have become even more difficult to keep on top of. The cherry crop rotted on the trees. We didn’t bother with a potager as the weeds would have strangled the courgettes and keeping the tomatoes free of blight would have been more stressful than beneficial. It’s not all doom and gloom though, as the figs are of giant proportions and the plum crop is looking great.

Giant figs, July 2024

 

The year without a summer

There have been times when it feels like summer just isn’t going to arrive, but I learned recently of events in 1815 that caused 1816 to be known as “the year without a summer”, and the more I delved into the history books, the more grateful I became for our lives 108 years later.

 

In 1815, one of the deadliest volcanic eruptions recorded, occurred at Mt Tambora in Indonesia. As well as the devastation, death and destruction locally, a sulphur-filled ash cloud formed that caused disruption over part of the United States, Europe and China throughout 1816. This resulted in temperatures being colder than normal and more days recorded that were wet or with heavy cloud cover, than sunshine – something that feels very familiar this year, although we haven’t suffered with the summer frosts or snowfall that also hit them. The effects of this were catastrophic on the wheat, potato and grape harvests in Europe and it couldn’t have occurred at a worse time for France. Following the Napoleonic Wars (1799-1815), France and Europe were already economically struggling, so the poor harvests led to famine and illness, including a typhus epidemic. The death rate in 1816 was ten times higher than the normal average for that time. As is often the case when pushed to our limits, we realise how strong we are, and great things arise from the devastation.

 

The first bicycle

Many horses that families relied on for transport and to work the land had either died of starvation or were eaten to avoid the family starving, which led to Baron Karl von Drais inventing the Velocipede. These two wheeled, steerable, human-propelled machines were patented in 1818 and regarded as the first bicycle. I can’t thank him enough as cycling has certainly helped to keep our spirits up, even if the weather has meant far less longs days out on the bike than usual.

Cycling in the Charente, summer 2024

Frankenstein

Mary Shelley and friends spent the summer of 1816 in Switzerland and instead of relaxing in the sunshine, the weather kept them all indoors, searching for other things to do. The dark days of that summer inspired her to write Frankenstein, that was first published in 1818.

 

Jean-François Cail’s potato grater

I’d like to add another event to this list, that ties in nicely with my life and the museum at the Château de Javarzay. Part of our museum is dedicated to the incredible life of French industrialist Jean-François Cail. He was born in Chef-Boutonne in 1804 and finished school at the age of twelve, as there was no money to pay the fees. Most young men at that time would have become farm labourers, but as he turned twelve in 1816, it is no surprise this wasn’t what he wanted from life. Whilst looking for a metalwork apprenticeship he began making a potato grater, piercing holes in an iron sheet, that he sold at the weekly market. This simple device helped to make a potato flour that could be added to the wheat flour and used to make bread. With the poor wheat and potato crops that summer, anything that could reduce waste and help to put food on the table would have been lifesaving. From his humble beginnings he became a great industrialist, building railway locomotives and infrastructure, as well as modernising agriculture and running sugar refineries all over the world. Knowing what I now know about the year of no summer, I like to think he was more than a little bit influenced by this event.

Jean-François Cail museum, Château de Javarzay

 

While I’m totally fed up with our lack of summer, at least we haven’t had to endure the hardships of those living through 1815 and 1816.

You can read more about the Château de Javarzay in these posts here:

My five top tips for a visit

The stonework

Mysterious markings

Advent postcards, Cenon-sur-Vienne

 

Advent postcard, Cenon-sur-Vienne

Advent day twelve

Today’s cycling advent-ures postcard is from just outside the village of Cenon-sur-Vienne, at the confluence of the mighty Vienne and the river Clain, whose valley we had been cycling through north of Poitiers last weekend. 

 

It is hardly surprising I’ve found a watery theme to today’s post, as the rain continues to pour down there is little else on my mind. In the space of two months, we’ve gone from a worryingly low water table that necessitated water restrictions coming into place on 13^th October, to most of the west of France now a soggy mess. Drainage ditches at the edge of roads are flowing like rivers, fields have become lakes as the water tries in vain to drain into the ditches, and the rainwater drains in the village are gurgling and bubbling high like a water feature fountain. 28% of French departments now have water tables full to a very high level and only 11% are showing as very low. How can a situation swing so drastically, in such a short space of time? The Jet Stream. It seems to have shifted and got itself stuck further south than usual, and the resulting low pressure over the Atlantic is the cause for our seemingly endless rain.

 

We struck lucky three times on Sunday morning. Firstly, the rain didn’t start until we were back at the car after a 36km bike ride and a picnic lunch with views of the Château de Dissay, plus we had two lucky discoveries on the bike ride, both just outside the small Vienne town of Cenon-sur-Vienne.

 

The first thing we stumbled upon that put a smile on my face was the archaeological site of Vieux-Poitiers (Old Poitiers), on the road between Naintré and Cenon. Here, where the Roman town of Briva once stood, a ruined tower is all that remains from an amphitheatre that once held ten thousand people. The fact that it is also on the Chemins de Saint-Jacques pilgrimage route, just made me fall in love even more. Situated on a triangle of land that is protected on two sides by the two rivers, that also offered fishing and trade routes, you can see why this was an important position two thousand years ago.

 

Our route continued up the triangle to stand at the confluence of the Clain and the Vienne rivers. It was rather appropriate to find ourselves here as we finished our twelve months of mini-cycling adventures to celebrate our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. In 1998, our main criteria for our wedding venue was that it had to be on the river Thames. We were both born by the Thames, worked in London, and often met for lunchtime walks along the river and decided upon Henley-on Thames for our wedding. It was a special feeling at having achieved our 25^th anniversary challenge, where we have managed twenty-three nights away this year and cycled 1864 kilometres, and standing by these rivers, inspiration struck for another cycling adventure for 2024.

My declutter challenge this Lent

A family meal out at N@APH79

Manic March

February left us with a shiver as the March winds arrived early. The last few mornings of the month were 0ºc with an icy easterly wind giving a real feel of -10ºc. It was the sort of weather that encouraged comfort eating and we don’t need much encouraging to stray from the healthy track. While chunky vegetable soups and lentil with sweet potato bakes ticked the box for healthy and comforting, we also indulged in one of our favourite cheesy mountain dishes, tartiflette. Even served with a side salad this oven baked potato and melted reblochon cheese dish can’t really be classed as healthy. When Ed and Pearl visit, a meal at the village restaurant is a must, the raclette cheese featuring on the pizzas and in the burgers.

Bugnes for Mardi Gras

 

As February drew to a close, Lent arrived, and here in France, it brought with it more tasty temptations. I know, traditionally, Lent is a time to do without, but it seems no one has told our local boulangerie that. In our area of France, Shrove Tuesday, or Mardi Gras, is celebrated with bugnes, a light doughnut-type delicacy. The weekend before Lent, we treated ourselves to a bugne each when they were tantalisingly left on display at the till at the boulangerie. A week later when we cycled in for coffee and croissants at the market, despite Lent having started, the tempting bugnes were still there and so we treated ourselves once more. Would you believe it, but yesterday, for the third Saturday in a row, the same thing happened? In our defence, the March wind has made cycling quite hard work, and we’ve also taken on another challenge this Lent that has certainly been hard work, both physically and mentally.

My Lent declutter challenge, day 4

 

40 mins a day, for 40 days

Lent is a time to give something up and I have struck gold on an idea to tackle the clutter in a mega Spring clean this Lent. The plan is simple, spend 40 minutes a day, for the 40 days of Lent, and fill one bag of something every day, to be sold, recycled, or donated. By focussing on one cupboard, or set of drawers, or cluttered corner at a time, and setting a time limit, I won’t get too overwhelmed by the task in hand, something I know I’ve had a problem with in the past. I can’t be the only one who has emptied an entire wardrobe onto the bed and then run out of time and energy deciding what stays and what goes, resulting in more piles on the floor than there were before I started, and a job that never seems to get finished.

My Lent declutter challenge, day 8

 

We are now on day twelve and so far, so good. I’ve sorted through and reorganised all my clothes, shoes, cycling gear and handbags, plus the large wicker storage baskets on top of the wardrobes. I am ashamed to admit that these contained more scarves, gloves and shoes than I even remember owning. As each day’s bag has been filled, the contents have been sorted, and I’ve cycled 27km just going back and forth to the recycling point at the end of the village, occasionally adding in a loop around the allotments.

 

I’m not sure who has been more traumatised by this unusual behaviour, Adrian or the dog. While he has embraced my madness and matched it, clearing a carload of old and obsolete electronics from the dumping ground we once called a dining room, he’s also rolled his eyes more than once at some of my mad ideas. Poor Mini, however is finding it all quite upsetting. Gone is the calm of inactivity she has grown accustomed to, and while she watches suspiciously as we sort through piles and shelves, the minute we start loading the car, or moving bags and boxes out, she is at our heals. “Are you going somewhere? You won’t move house and leave me, will you?”. Poor Mini.

 

Finding a treasure of memories from 2010

Some of our finds have included love letters from over 25yrs ago, an empty pink champagne bottle that neither of us can remember the occasion for which we drank the contents, and a folder full of holiday receipts, maps and the itinerary from our 2010 road trip for Adrian's 40th birthday. 

French Entrée Magazine article Mar/Apr 2012

I also found lots of magazine articles going back over ten years where the blog and our life in France were featured (including one about the 2010 road trip). Adrian managed to fill an entire bag with socks he never wears. 

A curious find in our curiosity's cabinet

Then there was the dead lizard in our curiosity’s cabinet, and while no one can claim that isn’t a curious thing to have, I’m not sure it’s something we need to hang on to.

 

Whilst I would love a place for everything and everything tidied away in its place, this exercise has made me realise that the things I put away in cupboards, storage boxes, drawers etc, I don’t use. I’ve always been a fan of the “Less is More” mantra and now I know that the less things I own, the better I function. 

 

As week three of Lent begins, it’s time to tackle the bookshelves, then the towels and bedding in the laundry room. Wish me luck and if you don’t hear from me, send help, I’m probably trapped under a heap of duvets, lost in a book. 

I’d love to know what is the weirdest thing you have found when having a clearout?