cost of living

Still no internet connection. I had hoped to do a deal with our landlord and split the cost of a stick with him – but the card apparently doesn’t buy much time online – part of a litany of cost and service issues he warned us arise from living in France. These (and decline in value of pound) has, he said, turned the flow of Brits to the area of the past decade into a reverse flow. Brits, however, account for only about 4% of the households (8% of the houses in Reminiac). I had a feeling before I came that the visit might actually tell me that buying here would not be a practical proposition – and so it is proving.
A charming old bibliotheque municipale in Malestroit (silent “t”) seemed to have internet facilities but had just closed for a 3 hour lunch break – giving us the opportunity to dawdle at the canal; see the inside of a 1,000 old house (invited by a couple who were treating their stonework); and try out some more supermarkets – including gone whose name seemed to suggest they were actually a Casino!)
Beef seems very expensive – but I got a pork “Promo” – 2 kilos for 7 euros!
We joined the small queue waiting for the “mediatheque” (as it calls itself) to open – were kindly received and ushered upstairs to a PC and I was able to retrieve the telephone numbers of the estate agents and re-establish contact. One agent phoned me immediately and passed me to their branch in Ruffiac. Before dropping in there, I gave my desiderata to an agent in Malestroit and arranged to visit him next Wednesday.
How, we watched the TV for the first time – mainly a constant replay of the gaffe made by Brown who was caught calling a 65 year old “a bigot” after apparently having an amicable conversation with her. Not only was it hypocritical but he was heard trying to identify who was responsible for suggesting he talk to her –confirming all the gossip about his being a control freak . At the moment the race is a remarkable three-way one – with the first of a first-ever series of Prime Ministerial debates having given the LibDem leader an opportunity which he had grasped with 4 hands.

settling in

In to Malestroit to try to get connected to mobile and net systems. The net system has been down in the village for a day or so – this apparently is a common occurrence. Manage the mobile – but the 69 euros charged by Orange for an internet stick (plus the normal access charges) seemed too much for one month’s use. The ocean is some 45 minutes away – so we paid our respects and also popped into Carrefour which was also very quiet. Have been looking for some of the titles of one of Brittany’s best modern authors – Michel Mohrt as I remember his name from my reading here some 30 years ago. But the combination of fashion and modernity has wiped such authors from these shelves. Let’s hope we can find a decent bookshop – even better livres d’occasion - somewhere (Rennes presumably)

We woke up on Monday morning to a delightful chorus of birdsong. For Daniela the immediate task was to clean the car – as it has never been cleaned before. Then off to Malestroit – which the Nantes- Brest canal crosses. It is a charming small medieval town/village but as quiet as a cemetery on a Monday as we had been warned it would be in rural France. But the Super U was open and we emerged with 140 euros worth of goodies. In even the smallest settlement 2-3 of these supermarket chains seem to be battling it out – little wonder that so many hamlets seem to be dead. Certainly it was the quietest supermarket I have ever seen.
In the evening I found amongst the books in the house a 1969 thriller by Alaister McLean. Based in Amsterdam and dealing with the drug trade, I was actually impressed with its language.

arrival in Reminiac

A lordly breakfast in a large dining room with matching grand fireplace. A last walk around the superb garden and then off to see Saumur on Loire. First to find petrol – a difficult task on a French Sunday! Saumur was very solid and bourgeois. We stocked up with goat cheese and Chinon wine – fruitshops are not only open but stock other goods. Tried to drive along the Loire – but it was elusive. Angers was the first real find – quite charming. But breathtaking was the castle of Chateaubrillant. After that it was an easy cruise to Reminiac - via Guer. 25 kilometres or so before that we passed by the Brest canal.
Having found the cottage at 16.00, we quickly unloaded and retraced our steps some 6 kms to visit a marche aux puces (vide le grenier) at Monteneuf. Despite the late arrival, there were still quite a few good things to snap up – including a “wine toolkit”. As I’ve never seen such a box of instruments before, I don’t know what else to call this collection of wine pourers, thermometer, stopper etc. Daniela’s find was a neat silver butter holder – suitably aristocratic looking after our Saumur experience. Thereafter a snack of Italian and French cheeses and pate on the patio – washed down with Soave and Slovenian white wine and merlot d’Oc.

day five - we hit the brick wall at saumur

Approaching the 3,000 kilometres and reaching the limits....The weather and scenery is pleasant enough but not the mood. Away from the autoroutes, the landscape and mansions are superb as I head for Nevers (wasn’t that the town which figured in Hiroshima Mon Amour?).
After Bourges, I pick up the signs for Nantes – but still 300 kilometres away so clearly it’s going to be a very long haul to make in one day.
At Saumur, we pull out of the last autoroute at 15.00 and find immediately a helpful tourist information. A chambre d’hotes with internet connection is our priority – and we find just what we need spiritually as well in the village of Allonnes at Le Grand Logis dthomann@wanadoo.fr
Words can’t do justice to the calm and civility we found with the Thomann family – in a house on the main street which seemed 2 centuries old but which was apparently built be an American lady 80 years earlier. Our room gave on to a patio behind which stretched a large garden full of trees. The sun was shining strongly as we made a fruitless search for a restaurant in the vicinity. Frustrating to go through so many degustations and be unable to imbibe! But a trip to the supermarket boosted the fare we then ate al fresco on the patio – on the table which had just been cleaned from winter ware. And the red Slovenian wine and Italian aqua de vita was shared with the Thomann’s who reciprocated with red Chinon wine and a powerful 1997 home-brewn l’eau de vie. The conversation was good! And the repast so much better than any we could have had in a restaurant.

Day four - the Frejus tunnel and the rhone valley

Despite the fatigue of the previous day, I was up early to catch the magic hill town before it stirred. And to capture some of the sights and angles on camera. Quite amazing that a church with such a long naive can grace the grounds of a hill town!
We were in no hurry to leave – had a leisurely coffee in a cafe which seemed to act more as a cultural centre and hive of village activity.

Then at 10.00 back on the autostrada which became increasingly gloomy and busy as we approached Milan. Thereafter the traffic lessened as we passed Turin and we were almost alone as we headed into the mist-shrouded mountains. Our target was the Frejus tunnel – reached with about 5 previous tunnels of 2-6 kilometre length. The Frejus tunnel is 13.8 km long – and cost a hefty 37 euros!
Then, suddenly, it was the French radio; the end of the banter and the return of serious conversation and music! But French road tolls seem even more expensive. We sailed round Chambery and on to Lyon and the rhone valley. I was aiming for Macon but we came off at Villefranche – where it was really difficult to find accommodation. Best Western offered 80 euros and no breakfast. A nasty room above a pub cost 43. We searched around the station area to no avail – and eventually found a motel-type place just next to the poll booth for 50 euros. What a contrast the room was from the Soave room! The hotel was, however, located in a park – with all the fragrances of the countryside. We dined on bread, tasty Italian salami, Romanian cheese and Soave wine. And then, with a sniff of grappa, to bed!

Day three - through Slovenia, a Trieste encounter and a step back in time

Day three started early – by 08.00 we were on the motorway crossing into Slovenia without actually noticing. Pulled in guiltily 30 kilomtres later to but a vignette to be legit driving on thier roads. Then into Maribo – for a quick drive around - Surprised to find that we were in a euros zone! So some purchases of Slovene wines.
Llyubiana was not a success - we hit it when the civil servants were taking their lunch. And the strong bean soup was too much for our weakened stomachs.
The idea had been to stay at Trieste - but by now the enormity of our journey was beginning to dawn on us - so we decided to press further to Treviso perhaps.
At Trieste we hit pure Italian pantomime - with 2 young men unable to tell us where we cd access the auotostrada. The issue was determined by a leather-jacketed woman who countermanded the male instructions.
Veneto proved to be a longer route than I had imagined. But the becastled skyline suddenly caught our attention at Soave. As we entered its walls, Agroturism advertised itself and was eventually found via a dirtrack which snaked through vineyards and up steep incclines. It was charming but expensive at 65 euros and challenging in its location. So Back to Soave where we found perfection just inside the castle wall.
The inn had apparently been such for centuries – with the large restaurant being the place for the horses. Our room on the first floor was reached via a hallway with massive beam roofing and located next to the old wall fortification which surrounds the town. Its fittings gave a delightful 17th century ambiance – particularly the creaking old oak cupboard. And dinner was tasty and sociable – with a great conversation with dapper Jean Piatro – whose initial friendly advice on the restaurant and whose ubiquity led me to take for the owner - seemed to have been as nomadic as me in his life. Now semi-retired, he spends 3 days doing some sort of work in the town and uses the inn as his base.
And Soave is, of course, where the famous wine comes from – and our English word suave!
Amazingly this village town is not in rough guide!!

through Hungary on day 2

End of day 5 – with 3,100 kilometres on the clock and another 300 kilometres probably between Saumur and Josselin.
The second day was very enjoyable, sunny driving in the quiet, rural southern redoubts of Hungary – with a brief foray into hilly Austro-Hungarian Pecs (we missed the minaret). A storm was brewing (in more senses than one!) as we nosed into Nagykanisza.
Difficult to sense any accomodation - a promised tourist bureau never materialised and we cruised around for about half an hour before we found an excellent large room in a central hotel which gave the sense of having been a Ministry in austro-hungarian days. I found a pizzeria which offered very tasty local Cesar wine (particularly the white - Riesling). Worth buying!!

journeys

Ten hours – for a 600 kilometre journey from Romania’s capital to one of its most western city. That is, I suppose, a pretty good measure of how bad Romanian roads and road management are. First the 100 kilometre stretch of its only “Motorway” – although it’s difficult to use that term of a badly constructed 2-lane construct. Then wasting at least an hour in making 2 wrong turns at Pitesti – where M-way signs make no mention of Timisoara or Arad. The maps offer no help in working out what might be the best route – east to the Danube and the iron gorge which I vaguely remember from a journey 15 years ago or north through Hunedoara county. We compromise and take a middle route.
At least twice we are required to make very dangerous U-turns – and the spectacular road north from Trg Jiu starts with a stretch so pot-holed the traffic is reduced to a 10 kmh crawl. Other roads, we are warned, are worse!
Roads and road management, it seems to me, say a lot about a country’s spirit and administrative capacity. Think of Hitler’s autobahns, And Germanic discipline at the traffic lights. In Baku, I suggested that the utter contempt shown for pedestrians was an important index for their public admin system. Of course, while it was true that the sharing of responsibilities for Baku’s road system between 4 agencies did make action difficult, there does have to be the intent – which was missing in Baku’s plutocratic environment! Romania’s current President was Transport Minister – albeit briefly before he ran and won Bucharest City as a better stepping stone to real power. He minces no words – but I haven’t heard him talk about the scandal of his country’s transport system.

And, while we’re on the subject of travel, let me mention another internet discovery - hidden-europe