Business A La Provencale
I still find attitudes to business and customer relations here rather strange. They range from the sublime to the gor-blimey. In general, family-owned businesses give very good service but chain businesses often the opposite. The idea of excellence in service as a key corporate attribute doesn't seem to have gained much ground here.
One day last week after boules I went for a beer with two of the players to the cafe just below the boules ground. I paid for the first round and was overcharged by a couple of euros by the waitress, who knew me quite well by sight. It could have been an honest mistake but somehow I don't think so. I waited to see if the players with me would notice but, if they did, they said nothing. I said nothing because I was more interested in what was going on than the couple of euros. When the second round of drinks was ordered the waitress came out and said she'd overcharged me, handing me 20 centimes. So, an honest mistake? Could be but I had the feeling that the waitress was playing some sort of trick and covering up. Making a few extra euros out of foreigners is often considered fair game here; in that, at least, Provence is no different from any other part of the world.
Then, I went to my favourite local vineyard and, after two months, they actually had some bags in boxes and so I bought 10 litres of red. I had been in two or thee times before, without luck, so the proprietress greeted me with a thumbs up. She explained that as they had not been able to sell any bags in boxes for two months they had had to put the price up. (I wasn't surprised.) However, to thank me for my patience she charmingly insisted on charging me the old price. What did surprise me was that they had had to wait two months to get any bags in boxes. Weren't there any alternative suppliers?
Possibly not. Friend Steve gets an English newspaper each day at the local Bar du Pont. However, sometimes there are no English papers and the proprietor explained that there was only one distributor that he could use and sometimes the distributor went on strike; so no papers. I don't know if this is the reason for the sole distributorship but the French equivalent of Companies House has the right to refuse registration of any new company whose business it deems superfluous to the designated area. This could be said to give to give all new businesses a chance to succeed but it can also easily create pockets of little or no competition, virtual monopolies. As far as I know, there is no French equivalent of the English Monopolies Board.
Then, just yesterday, I was invited along with all the rest of the villagers to free aperitifs to mark the opening of a new restaurant in the village. In fact it was just a case of new ownership of a pizzeria/restaurant that had not been very successful. A good crowd gathered and I spent a very pleasant hour there. About half-way through I asked for “la carte”, to see what kind of menu the new owners proposed. I was handed a business card. When I explained that I wanted a sample menu I was told that there weren't any; they were “on the computer”. What business manager in his right mind goes to the expense of offering free aperitifs to everyone in the village and has nothing to show of what he will be selling? The idea of, say, focusing on a speciality likely to be popular, making an opening offer of, say, four meals for the price of three and, quite simply, running off a few menus to hand round simply hadn't occurred. The new chef had better be good because the business nous seems lacking already.
vendredi 22 avril 2011
mercredi 13 avril 2011
Purple And Pink
Purple And Pink (And Yellow)
There's a song from the Sound Of Music that starts something like “yellow and red and pink and blue.............(I can sing a rainbow)”. Well, that's what is going on all around here. On a drive down to Avignon today I couldn't help noticing that all the Judas trees as well as the lilac, tamarisk and wisteria are in full bloom, providing a back drop of purple and pink. To add to it, the thyme by the wayside is in (lilac coloured) bloom along with the wild irises. Normally at this time of the year the roadside will be awash with scarlet poppies also, which doesn't say a lot for Nature's s sense of colour coordination but certainly puts on a show: a kind of Las Vega show, gaudy and spectacular, lacking on taste. This year, however, the poppy crop is sparse; I'd already noticed in my back garden that whereas normally I'll have 12-15 self-seeded poppies this year I have only four or five. Can't be a good year for poppies.
Higher up, it's all yellow with the wild coronilla bushes blooming their hearts out. Some friends of friends out here on a walking trip said they kept getting whiffs of a lovely scent on their walks but couldn't place it. They came for aperitifs a couple of evenings ago, smelled the coronilla in my back garden and the mystery was solved. It really is a lovely plant. The hillsides will stay looking yellow for some time, although the scent will go, as the coronilla gives way to broom.
The poppy “phenomenon” intrigues me. I understand some of the situations which cause insect populations, for instance, to rise and fall but can't think why this should apply to plants, particularly over a wide geography. Earlier in the year I remarked to friends Steve and Jo that their hazel trees seemed overladen with catkins this year and that they should have a bumper crop of nuts in the autumn. In England visiting my mother in March I noticed the same thing in the hazel trees there. Why? We have had a mild winter and southern England a particularly hard one, so the weather conditions can't be the cause.
Book Promotion
This afternoon I went to a book “promotion” at the English library in Beaumont. It wasn't really a promotion because the author, Bill Larksworthy, had published the book himself and was never likely to sell many copies. (I was lucky with the books I wrote in that I was asked to write them and so didn't have to look for a publisher.) He's apparently led an interesting life as a doctor in various parts of the world but primarily in Saudi Arabia and was persuaded to write his “memoirs” because of his ability as a raconteur at dinner parties. Unfortunately he didn't want to give his stories away as he thought that might negatively impact sales, which he wasn't going to get anyway, so we didn't really get the benefit of his raconteur abilities. It could have been a really good afternoon but in a way it was a nonsense; however, he was interesting enough not to make it a waste of time. He had, in any case, enjoyed writing the book and that I suspect is the lesson for all the would-be authors out there. If it's worth doing for yourself, it's worth doing. Anything else is a bonus.
There's a song from the Sound Of Music that starts something like “yellow and red and pink and blue.............(I can sing a rainbow)”. Well, that's what is going on all around here. On a drive down to Avignon today I couldn't help noticing that all the Judas trees as well as the lilac, tamarisk and wisteria are in full bloom, providing a back drop of purple and pink. To add to it, the thyme by the wayside is in (lilac coloured) bloom along with the wild irises. Normally at this time of the year the roadside will be awash with scarlet poppies also, which doesn't say a lot for Nature's s sense of colour coordination but certainly puts on a show: a kind of Las Vega show, gaudy and spectacular, lacking on taste. This year, however, the poppy crop is sparse; I'd already noticed in my back garden that whereas normally I'll have 12-15 self-seeded poppies this year I have only four or five. Can't be a good year for poppies.
Higher up, it's all yellow with the wild coronilla bushes blooming their hearts out. Some friends of friends out here on a walking trip said they kept getting whiffs of a lovely scent on their walks but couldn't place it. They came for aperitifs a couple of evenings ago, smelled the coronilla in my back garden and the mystery was solved. It really is a lovely plant. The hillsides will stay looking yellow for some time, although the scent will go, as the coronilla gives way to broom.
The poppy “phenomenon” intrigues me. I understand some of the situations which cause insect populations, for instance, to rise and fall but can't think why this should apply to plants, particularly over a wide geography. Earlier in the year I remarked to friends Steve and Jo that their hazel trees seemed overladen with catkins this year and that they should have a bumper crop of nuts in the autumn. In England visiting my mother in March I noticed the same thing in the hazel trees there. Why? We have had a mild winter and southern England a particularly hard one, so the weather conditions can't be the cause.
Book Promotion
This afternoon I went to a book “promotion” at the English library in Beaumont. It wasn't really a promotion because the author, Bill Larksworthy, had published the book himself and was never likely to sell many copies. (I was lucky with the books I wrote in that I was asked to write them and so didn't have to look for a publisher.) He's apparently led an interesting life as a doctor in various parts of the world but primarily in Saudi Arabia and was persuaded to write his “memoirs” because of his ability as a raconteur at dinner parties. Unfortunately he didn't want to give his stories away as he thought that might negatively impact sales, which he wasn't going to get anyway, so we didn't really get the benefit of his raconteur abilities. It could have been a really good afternoon but in a way it was a nonsense; however, he was interesting enough not to make it a waste of time. He had, in any case, enjoyed writing the book and that I suspect is the lesson for all the would-be authors out there. If it's worth doing for yourself, it's worth doing. Anything else is a bonus.
mardi 5 avril 2011
Summery Points
Summer Firsts, Etc
It's felt like summer already for the last couple of weeks, with afternoon temperatures consistently in the 20s; today it was 26 degrees in the sun and tomorrow is predicted to be warmer. Now there is more evidence. Shopping at the local supermarket on Monday I found the first local asparagus and the first local strawberries. Both are quite expensive at the moment but they won't be for long and it will soon be asparagus omelettes, soup and risottos several times a week. Also, on my way to the supermarket I saw the first poppy in bloom by the wayside; the euphorbia which looks so good against poppies has already been showing for several weeks. Do people still write to The Times reporting the first cuckoo?
And it's blossom time. The almond blossom has now been supplemented by cherry, peach and plum blossom. The orchards around Beaumont de Ventoux where I went for a play reading last Sunday are a blaze of white. I took my camera and have got some reasonable shots but still can't get the “killer” picture I want. Maybe I'll drive around one day soon and see if I kind somewhere that will give me the angle and context I need.
The cross-beams in my bedroom are now all stripped of paint and stained, all 64 of them. Feels like time for a celebration! Just a little matter of stripping the ugly wallpaper off the walls and finding out what the wall surface underneath is like. I've started and the surface so far doesn't look too bad. I'll probably need a bag or two of Polyfilla but that should be all. Then, painting.............
I've been asked to help friend Michèle organise a boules tournament for the village. The idea is to get more people playing regularly via a fun tournament. The best idea I've been able to come up with so far to attract the numbers is that the mayor should play wearing just a nappy and sucking a lollipop.........; not sure how that will go down. Daniel and Michèle came round to eat this evening and we discussed the tournament. Daniel suggested a formula that would be ideal in giving everyone the maximum playing time but it's very complicated and I don't think it will be practical for that reason. Daniel thinks he can organise it all and play on the day and that looks unrealistic to me. But trying to persuade an academic that complexity is to be avoided is a losing game. Anyway, everybody enjoyed the meal and Daniel and Michèle awarded me three Michelin stars for that classic French dish, shepherd's pie.
I also got around to doing something I've been meaning to do for some time: storing goat cheeses in olive oil. The summer savoury (sarriette) in my little herb patch at the front had produced enough leaves for me to use so I got some soft goat's cheeses, pressed summer savoury leaves into them and then put them in a jar and covered them with olive oil. They should be good in a few weeks. I think I've mentioned before that summer savoury is a great herb and grows in England but I've never seen it on sale in England and don't know anybody who has grown it; Heaven knows why.
It's felt like summer already for the last couple of weeks, with afternoon temperatures consistently in the 20s; today it was 26 degrees in the sun and tomorrow is predicted to be warmer. Now there is more evidence. Shopping at the local supermarket on Monday I found the first local asparagus and the first local strawberries. Both are quite expensive at the moment but they won't be for long and it will soon be asparagus omelettes, soup and risottos several times a week. Also, on my way to the supermarket I saw the first poppy in bloom by the wayside; the euphorbia which looks so good against poppies has already been showing for several weeks. Do people still write to The Times reporting the first cuckoo?
And it's blossom time. The almond blossom has now been supplemented by cherry, peach and plum blossom. The orchards around Beaumont de Ventoux where I went for a play reading last Sunday are a blaze of white. I took my camera and have got some reasonable shots but still can't get the “killer” picture I want. Maybe I'll drive around one day soon and see if I kind somewhere that will give me the angle and context I need.
The cross-beams in my bedroom are now all stripped of paint and stained, all 64 of them. Feels like time for a celebration! Just a little matter of stripping the ugly wallpaper off the walls and finding out what the wall surface underneath is like. I've started and the surface so far doesn't look too bad. I'll probably need a bag or two of Polyfilla but that should be all. Then, painting.............
I've been asked to help friend Michèle organise a boules tournament for the village. The idea is to get more people playing regularly via a fun tournament. The best idea I've been able to come up with so far to attract the numbers is that the mayor should play wearing just a nappy and sucking a lollipop.........; not sure how that will go down. Daniel and Michèle came round to eat this evening and we discussed the tournament. Daniel suggested a formula that would be ideal in giving everyone the maximum playing time but it's very complicated and I don't think it will be practical for that reason. Daniel thinks he can organise it all and play on the day and that looks unrealistic to me. But trying to persuade an academic that complexity is to be avoided is a losing game. Anyway, everybody enjoyed the meal and Daniel and Michèle awarded me three Michelin stars for that classic French dish, shepherd's pie.
I also got around to doing something I've been meaning to do for some time: storing goat cheeses in olive oil. The summer savoury (sarriette) in my little herb patch at the front had produced enough leaves for me to use so I got some soft goat's cheeses, pressed summer savoury leaves into them and then put them in a jar and covered them with olive oil. They should be good in a few weeks. I think I've mentioned before that summer savoury is a great herb and grows in England but I've never seen it on sale in England and don't know anybody who has grown it; Heaven knows why.
dimanche 3 avril 2011
Wild Leeks And Languages
Wild Leeks
At the pizza evening last week René and Ahmelle mentioned that there were wild leeks in the hills near their home. So we arranged for Steve, Jo, Neville, Liz and I to call on them this Saturday and to go on a wild leek hunt. Steve and Jo provided croissants for breakfast at the house René and Ahmelle are having built; it's at the end of a track on the edge of Buis and nearly completed so we looked around it before setting off. René mentioned one unplanned expense. The track belongs to the commune of Buis. René was told that he could “buy” it but it would remain technically the property of the commune. If he bought it, though, the commune could guarantee that the track would remain open; otherwise........ It's a peculiarly French arrangement.
We went off into the hills above Buis to a fallow field surrounded by groves of rather neglected olive trees. Sure enough, there were literally hundreds of wild leeks there, about the size of spring onions, and we collected several bags full. Seeing them, I realised that I had quite a few in my garden. I had noticed some plants growing that clearly weren't grass and looked like some form of bulb so I had left them to see what they were. Now I know they won't be blooming I shall remove them. Afterwards I went back with Steve and Jo to their place and Jo cooked the leeks with sausages and potatoes for lunch and we ate them sitting outside on their terrace.
Apparently there is wild asparagus in the hills around Buis as well and the French are enthusiastic about collecting anything edible from the wild. I thought the local restaurateurs were missing a trick, particularly in the tourist season. Had I been a restaurateur, I think I would have collected the leeks, persuaded clients that they were a rare local delicacy with a subtle flavour much appreciated by connoisseurs and charged an arm and a leg for a serving of them. What's more, they must be organic which in itself would justify a high price these days. The trip also showed me a possible source for olives. There were still plenty on the trees in the neglected olive groves, despite the fact that the harvesting season is around the turn of the year. So if I ever feel like collecting a load (four kilos are needed to get one litre of oil at the local mill) then I know where to go.
Anyway, the weather was hot and sunny and it was a great way to spend a morning.
English/French
We English have an unenviable reputation for being lazy at learning languages. There's the joke: what do you call someone who speaks three languages? Trilingual. What do you call someone who speaks two languages? Bilingual. And what do call someone who speaks only one language? English. However, that doesn't seem to be the case here.
There aren't that many English people in the area but we nearly all speak French with some fluency, if occasionally leaving some grammatical and phonetic correctness to be desired. When I invite people of both nationalities to eat the conversation is nearly all in French. This is appreciated by the French, who frequently comment that they are very bad at languages and should learn some English. They cast themselves in the role that the English traditionally have. I noticed this several years ago when I went to a class on Occitan which was being held in nearby Malaucène. It was a while before the class realised I was English (I wasn't saying much, except in Occitan). When I was asked to say, in Occitan, where I was from, I had to confess to being English. The woman sitting next to me then said: “ I detest foreigners who speak French well; they make me feel ashamed”.
I noticed this again during the winter, when I invited French friends to view some of my DVDs with me one evening. I have a fairly large collection of films for winter viewing and prefer to watch them in company rather than alone. Those films that aren't in English generally have English subtitles as I've bought most of them in England. Yet none of my friends, even one who is a former English teacher, felt able to watch a film that wasn't in French, not even one with English subtitles.
At the pizza evening last week René and Ahmelle mentioned that there were wild leeks in the hills near their home. So we arranged for Steve, Jo, Neville, Liz and I to call on them this Saturday and to go on a wild leek hunt. Steve and Jo provided croissants for breakfast at the house René and Ahmelle are having built; it's at the end of a track on the edge of Buis and nearly completed so we looked around it before setting off. René mentioned one unplanned expense. The track belongs to the commune of Buis. René was told that he could “buy” it but it would remain technically the property of the commune. If he bought it, though, the commune could guarantee that the track would remain open; otherwise........ It's a peculiarly French arrangement.
We went off into the hills above Buis to a fallow field surrounded by groves of rather neglected olive trees. Sure enough, there were literally hundreds of wild leeks there, about the size of spring onions, and we collected several bags full. Seeing them, I realised that I had quite a few in my garden. I had noticed some plants growing that clearly weren't grass and looked like some form of bulb so I had left them to see what they were. Now I know they won't be blooming I shall remove them. Afterwards I went back with Steve and Jo to their place and Jo cooked the leeks with sausages and potatoes for lunch and we ate them sitting outside on their terrace.
Apparently there is wild asparagus in the hills around Buis as well and the French are enthusiastic about collecting anything edible from the wild. I thought the local restaurateurs were missing a trick, particularly in the tourist season. Had I been a restaurateur, I think I would have collected the leeks, persuaded clients that they were a rare local delicacy with a subtle flavour much appreciated by connoisseurs and charged an arm and a leg for a serving of them. What's more, they must be organic which in itself would justify a high price these days. The trip also showed me a possible source for olives. There were still plenty on the trees in the neglected olive groves, despite the fact that the harvesting season is around the turn of the year. So if I ever feel like collecting a load (four kilos are needed to get one litre of oil at the local mill) then I know where to go.
Anyway, the weather was hot and sunny and it was a great way to spend a morning.
English/French
We English have an unenviable reputation for being lazy at learning languages. There's the joke: what do you call someone who speaks three languages? Trilingual. What do you call someone who speaks two languages? Bilingual. And what do call someone who speaks only one language? English. However, that doesn't seem to be the case here.
There aren't that many English people in the area but we nearly all speak French with some fluency, if occasionally leaving some grammatical and phonetic correctness to be desired. When I invite people of both nationalities to eat the conversation is nearly all in French. This is appreciated by the French, who frequently comment that they are very bad at languages and should learn some English. They cast themselves in the role that the English traditionally have. I noticed this several years ago when I went to a class on Occitan which was being held in nearby Malaucène. It was a while before the class realised I was English (I wasn't saying much, except in Occitan). When I was asked to say, in Occitan, where I was from, I had to confess to being English. The woman sitting next to me then said: “ I detest foreigners who speak French well; they make me feel ashamed”.
I noticed this again during the winter, when I invited French friends to view some of my DVDs with me one evening. I have a fairly large collection of films for winter viewing and prefer to watch them in company rather than alone. Those films that aren't in English generally have English subtitles as I've bought most of them in England. Yet none of my friends, even one who is a former English teacher, felt able to watch a film that wasn't in French, not even one with English subtitles.
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