Snow And Orange France

Snow

We had our annual one day of snow in the village ten days ago, about 15cm of it, much more than usual, and vestiges hung around for some days. The photio shows the scene that I saw from my kitchen when making the first coffee of the day. Higher up there is a lot on the hillsides and mountain top. There is plenty of time for more but I hope we'll avoid the worst of it in the village. There is only one way out of the village without ascending a few hundred metres and that one way is a narrow icy road that sees a snow plough once a day if it is lucky. So travel gets difficult if there is snow at this level.

English Conversation

Steve and I gave our last English conversation class before Christmas on Tuesday; we'll start up again onthefirst Tuesdayin February. Steve brought mince pies that Jo had made, I brought Christmas cards and the class gave Steve and I some bottles of very good wine. So we had a festive ending to the term.

I had thought that probably everybody in the surrounding area who might be interested had heard about the classesand so we wouldn't have anyone new. However, one new person, now a regular, came in September and three new people came in the last few weeks. Whether they will come regularly in thefuture remains to be seen but we have a hard core of eight or nine people who come most weeks. That is enough to make it worthwhile.

I've started putting a circonflex accent on words when I write them on our whiteboard to indicate where the stress is and that seems to work quite well. Everybody understands that there are no written accents in English and I had been struggling to think how I could represent the tonic accent. I don't know why it took me so long but the obvious answer was to show a tonic accent, as in Spanish, even though it is not written in English. I find that the French, particularly those whose English is good, most often make a mistake when the English and French words are the same or very similar, as with «families» for instance or «development». I'll do that all the time next term.

Brexit News

Being completely in favour of the UK staying in the EU I can't quite make up my mind whether the latest Brexit news is good or bad. What it seems to indicate is that Parliament is unwilling to countenance a hard Brexit, which is certinly good news, as is the fact (at the moment) that Perliament will have a say in accepting or rejecting whatever agreement is finally reached. However, chabges are occurring from day to day so I'm still keeping my fingers crossed and hoping. What I understand least is the position of Jeremy Corbyn and the Labour party.

Orange/France Telecom Service(?)

I'm having a problem with my telephone landline. Some three weeks ago I found I had no dial tone when I picked up my phone but my internet connection (via Free) still worked, albeit spasmodically. However I managed to report the fault to Orange France (not to be confused with Orange in the UK). It seems there are two methods to rack progress on a fault. One is via the interent and the other is via a portable phone. Since I didn't then have a portable phone I gave the number of a friend's phone and duly received a message that the fault was on the France Orange network and would be repaired by 18.00 on November the 29th at the latest. Since my landline still wasn't working when the November 30th arrived I tried tracking it on the Orange France website and found that the tracking service wasn't working either. I tried again a week later and the fault tracking service still wasn't working. My landline still isn't working now (December the 18th at the time of writing).

Last week I asked a friend if he would report the fault, which he did. It took him some time though. He said that Orange France have a menu system when you phone them, which is quite usual these days, but that the menu didn't allow for someone other than the landline holder to report a fault. So a landline holder can report a fault by phone only if he has two landlines, one of which is working, or if he has a mobile phone. And friend can report the fault by phone only if he waits until the menu options are exhausted to speak to an Orange France employee; which my friend did. He waited, he said, 20 minutes before he could talk to someone. He was told that there was a fault on the Orange France network and it would be repaired end of day on December the 22nd. I tehn tried tracking the fault on the Orange website and found that this time the fault tracking service was working and that there was a file open on the fault. So I tried to track the file and got a message that there was no file on the fault. I am bemused (to put it mildly). In despair I bought a mobile phone (and, as you might guess, the contract is not with Orange France). What do I do next? Well, obviously I have to wait until December the 22nd to see if my landline is repaired than. I shall also investigate whether there is a means of registering a complaint other than to Orange France and see if I can be compensated for having paid for a month for a landline that I haven't had. I'm not holding my breath but I am monitoring my blood pressure.

I've mentioned my predicament to several French friends and their reactions have been much as they were to my previous problem with Chronopost, the French Post Office parcel service. That is they either said «It's awful» or shrugged their shoulders and said «That's Orange France, what do you expect?». The French are generally a tolerant lot but the extent of their tolerance is beginning to amaze me. I rather think, when (if?) this story is concluded, I shall recount it on Facebook in French as well as English. In fact, I might even do it now. Will Orange France even notice, will itcare? But it's the least I can do.

THINK

Double Think, Wishful Think, …...Think?

It's a mad world. Natasha Devon, former government mental health guru, told a meeting of girls' school headmistresses (oops!) that they shouldn't address girls as girls or ladies but as pupils or students. Why? Because that reminds females (is that OK?) of their gender, which in Devon's view could cause said females great anxiety and mental health problems. Corresponding cautions should apply to boys' (oops again) schools.  No more boys' or girls' schools, only pupils'schools.

Unfortunately (in my view) the same problem arises with the use of the words «she», «her», «he» and «his». So obviously these words should be avoided too. What then? We'd presumably have to refer to all individuals as «it». But this, of course, could be interpreted as dehumanising people, objectifying them, which could definitely cause anxiety and mental health problems. Then again there is the problem of names. Some names are gender neutral, such as Lesley. However some aren't; have you ever met or heard of a boy called Agatha or a girl called John? So, to avoid mental health problems should we ban all gender-specific names or be compelled to use girls' names for boys and boys' names for girls, just to get rid of gender bias? Difficult one that.

Fortunately we Brits don't have the problem that Romance langage speakers have of every noun having a gender. Then we would really be in trouble, with anything sentient. So what can we conclude. One suggestion I have is that government mental health advisors should be tested for mental health problems before being appointed. Another is that Ms (can I use that; …….M, It?) Devon should get a life.

Elsewhere a mother has asked a school to ban the Sleeping Beauty fairy story because the Prince kissed Beauty while she was asleep, without first asking her permission. I suppose, by the same criterion, we could ban most literature written before 1950. What exciting lives some people live! More seriously, what has been said about people who want to ban books?

It is easy to make fun of such misguided people but, even if they are well intentioned, they do their cause no favours. There are still some serious issues in male/female interractions and the ridicule these people invite tends to trivialise these issues.

Things sentient do not include animals, according to media coverage of the government's proposal to exclude Article 13 of the Lisbon Treaty from the Bill on leaving the EU now going through Parliament. Article 13 places an onus on governments to take animal welfare into account when creating new legislation so this onus would be excluded. The media coverage proclaims that the government thereby believes that animals are not capable of having feelings (causing God knows what mental health problems to people; animals may not be aware of media coverage). Michael Gove, shining knight of all lovers of the truth(?), is outraged at what he calls this distortion of the truth. Of course the government is concerned about animal welfare, he says; in fact, exclusion of Article 13 provides an opportunity for the government to create even more protection for animals than that provided by Article 13. (This, like everything else, will be better after Brexit). What he didn't specifically state, in his determination to clarify the exact truth, was that of course the government won't have to consider animal welfare (that onus will be on the animal owner) and won't have to create stronger legislation. It could create stronger legislation or it could completely ignore the issue and place animal owners in a difficult if not possible position. But what government, determined to cut all costs to the bone, would do that?

Well, let's have a little look at Gove's overriding concern for the truth, at his rôle in the Brexit campaign for instance; the little matter of the £350 million for the NHS? Do the sayings a kettle calling the pot black and leopards not being able to change their spots come to mind? Ah well, who ever accused politicains of honesty?

It really is a mad, mad world.

Remembrance And Education

Remember, Remember

I have fun explaining to the French why we Brits celebrate November the 5th. After all, celebrating an attempt to blow up the democracy of which we are all so proud is ironic in a very British way. We didn't go through it this year in the English conversation class as we had already done that last year. Then I explained that although traditionally it should be Guy Fawkes who was burned there had been local variations. In the village in which my mother lived, for instance, it used to be the Pope who got burned. That would be politically incorrect nowadays of course and, anyway, I find the idea of religions persecuting one another rather obscene. However, I think the idea of burning (in effigy) someone almost unversally disliked has some merit. Anyone for Trump, Boris Johnson, Theresa May……?

It is also a time to remember the dead in both world wars of course: the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month. For some reason I keep meaning to investigate, the ceremony in the village is at 12;00. I seem to remember that that changed from 11.00 a few years ago and I think it must be because winter and summer time didn't exist at the time of WW1, so 11.00 then would be 12.OO now. Maybe someone decreed the change in the last few years but I still don't know for sure. Anyway the ceremony went off almost smoothly in the village, when the names of those from the village who were killed are read out individually followed by the words «mort pour la France». I find it quite moving. At the end (before the obligatory communal aperitif) the children at the village school sing the Marseillaise. They were to be accompanied by the music but, enthusiastic as they were, they started off well in advance of the music and the singing and the music never really got together again. A shame, I suppose, but it had a very sympathetic Clochemerle feel to it. Perhaps that is how it should be, a living and improvised contrast to the otherwise formal proceedings to remember the dead.

Education

The last couple of English conversation classes have been particularly good, running seamlessly for 90 minutes. At the beginning of the one this evening I proposed an idea I had had and checked with Steve that we should offer the class toipics for conversation (generally of their choice) but that we should start with education. After all, we have all been through it (and may be continuing it) so we all have experiences, good or bad, to talk about. The idea went down well. Steve and I will provide a vocabulary beforehand to help the discussion along.

The idea came back to me while I was helping my son compose a rather sensitive letter. I well remember offering to read my daughter's thesis before she submitted it when she was at university and her refusal because, she said, I would criticise her grammar. Grammar was not in question when I was helping my son but niceties of expression and pereption were. Language can be such a supple and nuanced instrument for communication that I feel more than ever that the period when it was «taught» (in English schools certainly and, I gather, in French schools too) as simply free uncritical expression was almost criminal. Just tick the right box, or Eats Shoots And Leaves, if you know the book.

Cold Snap

I gather there has been a cold snap in the weather in the UK and so has there here, although the cold during the day is only evident if the wind is blowing (it's the Mistral) and you are not sheltered from it. However, snow has been falling on the summit of Mt Ventoux for the past week and that doesn't usually happen until around mid-December. I hope this doesn't herald a harsh winter but I think I'm now going to have to protect the plants I have that will not survive a hard frost.

Sustaining Rural Communities (And Parcel Delivery And Autumn)

Parcel Delivery And Scams

Parcel delivery happens every day to thousands of people without problems. But, if there are problems, how do you unravel them?

The thought occurred to me only because my daughter had said to me a fortnight ago that she had sent me a parcel that I haven't (yet) received. Then I received an email from DHL saying that a parcel had been sent to me and would be available at my local collection point, without indicating where that collection point was. So I went to the Post Office and asked if they had the parcel; they didn't but said there was a local collection point in the stationer's in Buis. So I went to the stationer's in Buis and asked if they had a parcel for me and they said no. So.….……….Later I opened my post box and found a letter from Chronopost, the French Post Office parcel service, with a reputation among the French of my acquaintance for unreliability, saying that they had a parcel for me but needed a phone call and extra information from me within 14 days or they would return it to sender. I duly phoned them and all they apparently needed was my phone number. All this happened while there was apparently a scam going on related to parcel delivery, of which I was aware, which sought to elicit personal details for the use of the scammers (which I was anyway never going to divulge for simple parcel deliver)y. Initially, I couldn't understand why Chronopost, even given their apparent reputation for unreliabiliy, hadn't simply left the parcel at the Post Office in Mollans, having apparently failed to deliver it to me.

So what, I asked myself, was going on? Where, for instance, did the email from DHL fit in? Was this a scam? I gradually came round to the following probable explanation (the problem is not resolved at time of writing). I surmised that when Chronopost tried to deliver my parcel it was the afternoon, when the local Post Office would have been shut; so they couldn't leave it there. They could have left it at the Post Ofiice in Buis (open all day) some 8kms away but apparently chose not to do so. So why didn't they leave a note in my letter box saying they had tried to deliver? That I can put down only to Chronopost's own procedures and reputation. The notification arrived by post some days later. But what about the DHL email? Again I can only surmise. But what I think must be the case is that Amazon (from whom the consignment was purchased) ordered DHL to deliver the parcel. Had they done so the parcel would have been at my local collection point in Buis. However DHL (again I surmise) decided that it would be cheaper or more convenient to delegate that task to Chronopost.

Two things disturb me. If delivery fails and the parcel is returned to Amazon, who accepts responsibility and picks up the tab (or whom do I threaten to sue, if it comes to that)? If Amazon did not accept prime responsibilty (and I have no idea whether they would or not) I could see a lot of finger-pointing and blame evasion going on, a long drawn-out process. Legally (according to UK law) I think the prime responsibility lies with Amazon, who impose this by inference on DHL who then........…. But I'd hate to have to go down that path. Whatever the case, when Amazon ask for feedback on this transaction, they will get it. Thus does a simple transaction become a potential saga.

The Village Butcher And Local Support

My heading sounds like a potential title for a French film from this region (The Cook, The Thief, His Wife.........…....….) but is more important than that, if I have been informed correctly. What I know is that the village butcher's closed earlier this year. I'm told it declared bankruptcy for reasons I won't go into. I'm told that the village council then decided that a butcher's was needed in the village and so the council bought the business. I know that the mayor promised a new butcher and one has recently been installed, presumably as a tenant. Whatever the case, the village now has a butcher's again.

What, for me, is important in all this is that the village council has the concern, and the budget, to keep the village alive as an entity. A couple of years ago I posted an account of how the village kept a Post Office when that was threatened with closure. The important point, again, is the encouragement and means provided, directly and indirectly, by the gouvernment here to keep small local communities alive and thriving. In the brief time in the late 1990s when I was important enough in the UK for at least some people in relatively high places to pay attention to what I was saying, I came up with a proposal to keep British villages alive through protecting the local Post Office and making it the hub of village communication and activity. There were people interested in this proposal and, indeed as it turned out, those who had made similar proposals; but no one in central or local government. If you want to know why local rural communities in the UK are dying (and will continue to do so) that is why.

Autumn

The autumn since the beginning of September has been brilliant. We still have afternoon temperatures of 22-23 degrees and it is still a pleasure to eat out at lunch-time in shirt sleeves, though it is too cold to do the same in the evenings, but you can comfortably eat outside then with a sweater on. What we don't have is rain. Thanks to the reduced temperatures and the hours when they apply, I now have to water plants only once every 5-7 days. But I've never seen the water level in the river Ouveze so low. It is reduced to a shallow, and narrow, stream in most places. I think I've already commented that the grape harvest as a result is smaller than usual, but more concentrated, promising some good wine albeit in reduced volume. The same cannot be said for olives. The harvest is in November and December and olives don't increase in goodness in the absence of rain to give them volume; they just get less flesh on them, to eat or produce oil. That could be a significant problem.

So I'll probably have to pay a bit more for wine and olive oil next year but that's not too much of a worry for me. What I'm most pleased about is that the front of my house is showing more colour than any others around. There is colour a-plenty in flowers in the shops but this is all chrysanthemums for All Saints'Day. The mounds of flowers look attractive but the plants have mostly been forced to flower now. In the past I have bought one to separate the plants and try to grow them on individually but with no success. The oleanders, the main source of colour at this time of year apart from from tree and vine leaves turning to autumnal shades, have finished flowering. However, my fuchsias, pansies and French marigolds, as well as the odd geranium and rose, are showing plenty of colour out front, as in the photo below. The fuchsias in particular are doing well, as below.  It's a small personal consideration but important to me.

English Conversation And Autumn Gardening

English Conversation Resumes

Last Tuesday was the first of the new term of English conversation classes and, as expected, the tournout of participants was sparse; just four in fact. At this time of year some of the regulars are on holiday and some still have summer visitors. One of the absentees has definitely been helped by our efforts, though, as he has now achieved his goal of getting a job in England and going to live there for a while.

Steve and I hadn't thought much beforehand about what we were going to do this term but have come to the conclusion that the synthetic conversations we created and used a lot until the last term have a lot more mileage in them. No doubt we'll get more ideas when we question the class more closely about what they find most difficult, as we have before. Pronunciation is one of the items we can work on, as well as the tonic accent, but the amazing lack of rules for these in English doesn't help. Vocabulary is certainly another consideration but is as long as a piece of string and, without a definite context, is difficult to bound. Steve and I have taken the view that what a visitor to England, for a holiday for instance, might need is the best guideline we can have.

Another problem, I feel, is how far to take the class into the English use of prepositions to qualify the meaning of verbs. We are concentrating on colloquial conversational English so verb and preposition combinations (verb plus, in, on, up, down, over, etc) inevitably occur frequently and the temptation is to extrapolate when one such occurs. The problem is that the possible combinations and alternative, context-dependent meanings with a verb such as «to put», for example, are so many that the class could well end up losing patience or being totally confused.

Anyway, time will tell what challenges the new term will bring; the one thing I'm sure of is that we shall have some fun along the way. We now have our old room back, the salle de réunions, renovation of the Mairie now being almost complete, which is a bonus, even if it comes some eight months later than originally scheduled. That's just a normal delay in these parts.

Letter To The Mairie

My letter to the Mairie (see a couple of posts ago) suggestung a narrowing of my road and installation of a toll booth has now been circulated to friends and neighbours and we've all had a good giggle. One neighbour seemed to take me seriously, though, and was at pains to explain to me that the Mairie didn't have the authority to make the road a toll road. Pity about that.

Autumn Gardening

The autumn gardening is just about done. I've planted about 20 or so of the irises I culled from the back garden to make an extra row in the roadside opposite my kitchen window. I've also planted crocuses around the edge of the pot by the wash-house and more in a pot in the front, plus around 40 narcissi and daffodils that I've found space for here and there. So the front is done and looking pretty good, as in the photo below.

You can just about see the cyclamen high up on the balcony. The French marigolds in the hanging baskets are still blooming, as are the fuchsias either side of the front door, and the rose arching over the porch (Penny Lane) has decided to start blooming again.

I have a bit more clearing up to do at the back, one or two more irises to get out and a cistus to cut back. I went to the market in Vaison this morning to see if I could find any perennials I fancied and bought a white buddleia and a cassia. I'll get those in in the next couple of days, plus some bulbs. All in all I feel quite pleased with what I've done.

Rémuzat And Friends Leaving

Rémuzat

The three days in Rémuzat for the boules tournament were just about perfect. The sun shone for all three days, the vultures came out to do their pitouettes in the sky, the food in the Lavandes holiday village was great and so was the company. Players and their sometimes non-playing partners came from Sarrians, Beaume de Venise, La Gaude and, of course, Mollans. The tournament was essentially a free-for-all, with the teams changed after each game so that you got to play with and against just about everyone. My personal score placed me somewhere in the middle, not as high as the fifth place I had previously achieved, but that didn't matter at all. In all respects it was a very enjoyable three days. The photo shows the view from my bedroom window.

Also, the latter part of the drive to Rémuzat is spectacular. Just north of Nyons, where the last of the olive trees give out, the road follows the river Aygues into a narrow cleft between high cliff faces which become sheerer as the river becomes narrower as you continue. Finally you enter a tunnel under the cliffs before reaching Rémuzat. In past times, before the road was built, the narrow shallow river must have been the only practicable way out of or into Rémuzat. The small mountains around are known as the «pré-Alpes». I jokingly suggested that this could be because there are «prés» (meadows) in the Alps but of course it is because these are the foothills of the Alps. The French seem to love «jeux de mots» (play on words) as a sign of wit, their beloved «esprit», so the joke went down well, although I personally find it a fairly easy and shallow form of wit.

On my return I found the grape harvesting in full swing. The crop this year is much smaller than in previous years but predicted to be of higher quality, a function of the hot dry summer. That may mean higher prices for wine next year but the price of good wine here is so low compared to prices in the UK that that won't matter much either. A further consequence of the hot dry summer is that the grapes on the vine over my balcony that I haven't managed to eat or give away, and which I usually just leave for the birds or wasps or to rot, have turned themselves into raisins. A friend some years ago gave me rasins seeped in muscat wine and so I have picked them and done just that with them. They should be good to eat with ice cream or a dessert of some kind.

I've bought some bulbs to supplement those already planted and am cutting back the growth in the small back garden to clear the stone steps that run across it so that I can get to the top without endangering life and limb. I'm also clearing out irises that have started taking over the garden in places and have given some away; the others I shall find room for on the roadside opposite my kitchen window. I've also bought some cyclamen which I shall put in pots where I can find spaces. I usually put them in the hanging baskets but those are still flowering, as are the solanum, fuchsias and michaelmas daisies below but I'll find space somewhere. You never know, the village council may actually decide to take up my suggestion to narrow my road.

Friends Leaving

Hallie and Mary, my American cook friends, are leaving at the weekend and so came round for a final aperitif this evening. They are the last of the summer visitor friends to go. Both give cooking lessons in the USA and bring some of their students to Mollans in the summer. Now, however, they have decided they have had enough of this small enterprise and have put their house up for sale. They propose to still come to Mollans in the summer but simply to enjoy themselves while here. I took a photo of them having the aperitif on my balcony, below. 

Autumn And School Histories

Autumn Has Arrived

The seasons have started early this year and that applies to the autumn too, although the leaves are not yet falling. Some of the high August heat usually spills over into early September but not this year, though daytime temperatures in the low 20s are welcome after the summer heatwave, even if the evenings are rather cool. Welcome also is the need to water plants perhaps only twice per week. Most importantly, the sun keeps shining, ensuring its average of ~300 days per year.

I see the difference in my fruit supply too. Apricots disappeared from sale some weeks ago and now the peaches, nectarines and melons are following suit, to be replaced by grapes and figs (and the perennial apples, oranges and pears, of course). Soon it will be mushroom time: chanterelles, lactaires, trompettes de la mort, etc. Autumn usually lasts into mid-December and winter (usually) is mercifully short.

Alternative School Histories

A round of emails exchanged with old school friends triggered a thought in my mind. Many schools have a long history and, with that, a tradition. The tradition is often cherished and, just as often, largely mythical. The tradition is sometimes described in books about the school. My own old school, Rutlish, had been a private rather than a state school before WW2 and seemed to try to hark back to those days. There was a notuceable amount of snobbery among staff who dated back to the private school days or who had been pupils at the time. One of the changes the school had made was to switch from playing soccer to rugby; as one teacher putit to me when I enquired about the change, «if we played soccer, which schools would we play?». What he meant was that the school, with it's private heritage, had to somehow distinguish itself from the new county grammar schools, brought in by the 1944 Education Act, and which played soccer. What horror to be confused with them!

But schools are primarily about education and teaching so, obviously, Rutlish would consider itself superior on that score too. However, my discussion with former school friends turned at one point to the subject of which of our teachers (they actually stuck to the term «masters» rather than the term «teachers») were actually any good at teaching. A few, we all agreed, certainly were but Rutlish also had a good share of duds. There were also a good number of unfortunate or downright chaotic episodes in classes in this very formal, conservative school. All of which made me think: why don't people write alternative school histories; how schools actially were rather than how their tradition would have you believe they were? I'm not sure if a website to hold such stories already exists but there must be hundreds of thousands of people worldwide who would love to debunk the traditions of their old schools and expose the myths. Any takers?

Letter To The Mairie

I ocasionally get the urge to extend the area I can grow flowers in around my house and recently thought how nice it would be if the road out front, although already quite narrow, could be made even narrower. I would then have more room to plant either side. My excuse would be that it would slow traffic. Anyway, the following very tongue-in-cheek letter has gone to the village Council.

Chers membres du conseil,

J'ai apprécié les efforts que vous avez déjà entrepris pour embellir notre cher village, ce qui m 'a fait

penser à un autre projet possible que je voudrai vous soumettre aujourd'hui. Le voici avec les trois

avantages qu'il entraînerait .

En dépit du gendarme couché dans la rue du faubourg, les voitures y roulent toujours un peu trop

vite. Il est vrai qu'il y a d'autres petits ralentisseurs (des gendarmes cadets couchés?) mais ceux-là

servent à peu de chose. Ce que je propose est de rendre la rue devant ma maison (n¨39) plus étroite,

peut-être juste suffisante pour laisser passer le camion des poubelles. Dans l'hypothèse où le

goudron de chaque côté était enlevé je m'engage à entreprendre la plantation de fleurs et d'arbustes

dans l'espace ainsi libéré. Cela serait beau, n'est-ce-pas? En complément on pourrait introduire un

péage à cet endroit, pour récupérer les frais de cette modification et éventuellement en faire

bénéficier les écoles. Il y a déjà eu un précédent pour le péage. Il me semble que c'était à l'époque

où il y avait un pont-levis sur l'Ouvèze. En conclusion, on pourrait par la même occasion ralentir la

circulation, faire rentrer de l'argent et embellir davantage le village.

Voilà ma petite suggestion. Nul besoin de réponse à cette lettre; je vous laisse y réfléchir et prendre

la bonne décision.

Veuillez agréer, Mesdames, Messieurs l'expression de mes salutations les plus sincères.

Ian Hugo

Back From Scotland

Back From Scotland

I left for the UK on the 28th of July, visiting London on both weekends and spending the intervening week in Scotland. The imperative was to see my grand-daughter, my daughter Natalie and son-in-law Andy in Glasgow but also to see my son in London and as many friends as could be accommodated at the same time. As it turned out I managed to see only my friend Margaret, with whom I stayed in London. The weather was suitably British, cool and often rainy, slightly warmer in London than Glasgow but anyway a welcome break from the heatwave in Mollans.

I had intended that my visit should allow Nat and Andy some time out together but I was too early for that, grand-daughter Eilidh being still too young to be left with me. But there were plenty of photo opportunities, for me with Eulidh and Eilidh in her Chelsea kit, as shown here. I knew that Andy wasn't particularly interested in football so thought the Chelsea romper would be uncontroversial; I didn't know that both of Andy's brothers were Liverpool supporters but that probably just means that Eilidh will be getting a Liverpool romper as well.

The journeys both ways were easy and uneventful. I hate large airports, in common with most people probably, so flew from Avignon to London City, and was through airport formalities both ways in no time at all. I wonder how long that will be possible if Brexit happens. Even the hurly-burly that London can provide passed me by and I found people generally aimiable and kind. As ever in the places in London where I end up I was surprised at the sheer variety of ethnicities. Round the corner from my friend Margaret's house were restaurants specialising in Chinese and Caribbean food and a coffee bar run by Somalis. And on one bus ride I overheard a conversation between a passenger and the driver in Russian. Who wouldn't want that diversity?

I met my son Carl in my favourite Zédel brasserie just off Piccadilly Circus, very good food, wine and impeccable service at well below central London prices. The restaurant, as large as a ballroom, is three floors below ground level and was an air raid shelter during the war. Carl, as ever, was up to his eyeballs in IT and looking tired, obviously having been burning the candle at both ends. However he seemed happy with it.

I had the requisite, on trips to the UK, fish and chips in Glasgow and pints of bitter in London so it was a successful trip in every way.

The heat seemed stifling on my return to Avignon where I collected my car 30 yards from the arrival/departure lounge in the free car park. Does anybody know another airport that has free car parking, let alone 30 yards from check-in/arrival? Then it was back home to continue the watering that friends Steve and Jo had kindly been doing while I was away. They'd managed to keep my plants alive and, a day later, it rained heavily almost all day which gave me a couple of days' grace before I had to lug the watering cans around again. I was glad to be able to indulge my passion for fruit again, now including the grapes from the grapevine over my balcony which were well ripe and the damsons from my neighbour's damson tree that overhangs my back garden. So it's back to fruit, boules, mussels and chips outside the Bar du Pont on Thursday evenings and meeting again the many summer visitors to Mollans that are friends.

High Summer

High Summer

It's high summer here now. The official start of summer here is the Feu de la St Jean, on the 23rd or 24th of June, with a bonfire on the river bed and music in the square in front of the Bar du Pont. I usually love this celebration but was disappointed this year. The square was virtually deserted until after 9.30, perhaps because there was a pancake stall but no other food on offer, and when more people came I found only a handful that I knew. Also the music provided turned out to be a hard rock band and few people got up to dance before I left, early. Fireworks were added this year to the ritual bonfire and they were good but there seemed little reason for me to linger after they were set off.

The high temperatures that started in June have continued with only infrequent cooler days, which has meant watering plants front and back on most days. The two photos here show most of what there is now in front of my house, the jasmine on the balcony and the honeysuckle and clematis by the front door, and there won't be much more for the rest of the summer. The few sunflowers I have nurtured from seeds dropped by the birds at my feeders into various pots have finished blooming so I shall root them out, leaving the heads for the birds to feed off again. Lavendar is in full bloom all around but I have only a couple of those plants by the bench opposite my kitchen window. Come August and it will be oleanders and geraniums and not much else. I feel I need an oleander in front of the house but can't think where to put it.

And it's high season for fruit too. Strawberries have all but disappeared, a few weeks earlier than usual, but apricots, peaches, nectarines and melons abound in the shops and markets. I eat far more than I ever did in England and particularly love the melons and white peaches. The flat white peaches are particularly good and cost next to nothing. And the grapes overhanging my balcony are ripening nicely and should be ready to eat in a month's time. I had never imagined livong anywhere where I could sit in the sun/shade (as I choose) on a balcony and simply raise my arm to grab a handful of grapes but that is what I will soon be able to do.

Shameless And Sordid.......And Education

Shameless And Sordid

Strong and stable became weak and wobbly and has now become shameless and sordid. When the Grenfell Towers disaster happened everybody rightly praised the fire and paramedic services for their heroic (I can't think of a more apt word) efforts to contain the disaster. They put their own lives at risk. If anybody ever deserved a reward, they did. What did they get? They got Parliament voting to deny them a pay rise above 1% which, with inflation running at close to 3%, equates to a pay cut of around 2%. That is shameless. What is even worse is that some members of the government were reported as cheering when the result of the vote on an amendment to pay them more was rejected, only through the intervention of mercenary DUP MPs known as bigoted. That is not simply shameless it is also sordid. Any decent Britons who voted, in good faith, for what has been revealed as a bunch of bigots, mercenaries and conscienceless power seekers should now be ashamed of their vote.

What is the aim behnd this nefarious enterprise? It would appear to be a determination to hang on to power for as long as possible to ensure as hard a Brexit as possible, the dream of the extreme right, and to make it as difficult as possible for any succeding government to undo their work. Short of a 1968-style French revolution, I don't see any immediate remedy in the UK. It may be that the UK will have to rely on the goodwill of the EU, which has the whiphand in Brexit negotiations, to resolve this problem for us.

It may be worth recalling that the beginning of this whole sad story was a result of an internal spat in the Conservative party, a referendum to appease the extreme right wing. The extreme right wing won that and the tail is now wagging the dog, showing itself in its true colours, red (paradoxically) in tooth and claw. Appeals to patriotism, «the last refuge of rogues», or party before country? Either is despicable.

Dubito (again)

Daniel and his most recent lady friend came to eat this evening and we got to talking about the Internet for some reason I can't remember. Daniel surprised me by saying it had made things very difficult for him (and other teachers) because students could come up with model answers for tasks/projects, answers that they had found on the Internet. In fact I was really shocked that this could be considered a real difficulty. My immediate reaction was that, as a teacher, you investigate the student's basis for the model answer and should quite easily be able to ascertain whether the student had worked this out for him/herself or simply «borrowed» it. Daniel's response was that that required a lot of work on the part of the teacher, more than was involved in evaluating an original answer. I realise that teachers' time is scarce but «Tough», I said, «that is what you have to do».

In fact that is what I now believe teaching at the senior level should be all about. It is less about what you think you are supposed to know about history, geography, economics or whatever but why you think you know it. I quoted Descartes at Daniel and he blithely quoted Descartes back at me with the «dubito» and «cogito» the wrong way round. In his subject, French literature, that probably doesn't matter much, which is no doubt why he made the mistake, but in education more generally, in my view, it matters enormously. The «dubito» has to come first. It may not be easy but it is essential if people are too be truly educated. And, in current circumstances, it may even be essential for the future sanity of the world.

The first time I formed a company in the UK I had, as it turned out, a very good lawyer who proved his worth again when I signed my first office leasing contract. He said he could do the necessary paper work for me but suggested I should do it and he would approve it (or not). His stated reason was that if I did it I would understand the process intimately and therefore be able to answer any questions on it, rather than referring them to him. That was education; lawyer by trade, he was also a teacher and I'm immensely grateful to him, even if I can't remember his name (Leopold something?). It also gave me an insight into law which was analogous to computer programming: you need to know the precise meaning and implications of every statement and clause.

House Of Cards

House Of Cards: A Conspiracy Theory

We live in interesting times, particularly in the political sphere. As I've said before, I regard the referendum result as an opportunistic extreme right-wing coup. If that is indeed so, for how long has it been going on? Think: House Of Cards, that wonderful TV series of yesteryear in the UK and book by Michael Dobbs.

After the 2008 crash everybody accepted the need for a period of austerity, even if the degree of severity was debatable and not everybody swallowed the easy catch-phrase «we're all in this ttogether». As it happened, the UK embarked on more severe austerity than any EU country other than Greece and, well, the rich didn't suffer quite as much as the rest of us; theywere given a few tax breaks. What almost inevitably suffered most were public services: the NHS, of course, care servies, the police, fire services, etc. At around the same time the UK government omitted to sign off EU directive 2004/38/EC, which placed controls on intra-EU immigration.

Now, consider that you are a member of very rich, extreme right-wing cabal angling for power. How can the ground be prepared? Given the target of the UK as an offshore tax haven, austerity is good. It guts public services, which an offshore tax haven doesn't noticeably have; so austerity has to be continued, even increased (we can always promise that it is necessary so that conditions can be better tomorrow). What about the EC directive? Implementing it would require increasing the number of Border Agency staff, currently being cut. Not implementing it means we can continue cutting Border Agency staff and control of immigration will be aggravated as an issue, which is what we want. What we now need is a referendum on EU membership. We have virtually all the popular media under our control, what else do we need?

It's pure speculation of course but not beyond a House Of Cards.

The problem, of course, is to know what to do if the grand plan gets a bloody nose, as it did in the last general election. Except that it is not really a problem for the cabal; the plot failed so they simply walk away and try elsewhere. It follows inevitably that there is no plan B, as is blindingly obvious now. Any kind of compomise is of no interest; that is simply politics as usual. So what happens next? Who knows? Except that Brexit is now looking to be a tired issue; is it really worth all the expense, fuss and bother? What does a soft Brexit achieve for anyone? And public services are now at the forefront of the political agenda.

School Celebration

School Celebration

This Saturday saw the planned celebration of the village school take place, with an exhibition of old photos of the school and former pupils (three members of our English conversation class started their schooldays together here), various children's games, an evening meal in the 14th of July square and friend Jo's impromptu choir. I «sang» in the choir. Bass, tenor baritone? Maybe a mixture of all three at various points or maybe just undefined. No one ever bothered about these nice distinctions on the terraces at Chelsea. We sang four songs. Sacré Charlemagne accuses Charlemagne of ruining kids'childhoods: Qu'as tu appris à l'école aujourd'hui is an ironic take on what is taught at school: L'école est fini is an end of term celebration and Adieu monsieur le professeur a rather sad tribute to a retiring teacher. All were sung lustily and received enthusiastically, which hopefully rewarded Jo adequately for her efforts to make us sing properly. The whole event served, among other things, to raise some money for the school.

Schools here, as in the UK, are strapped for cash but to nowhere like the same extent as in the UK. Mollans with 1000 inhabitants has a school as still does nearby Brantes, a village of about 200 inhabitants stuck on a mountain side. Scholarship is still valued here and blatant cynicism still rare. The Minister of Education does not sneer at those who have acquired enough knowledge to be labelled experts, especially before becoming Minister for the Environment, having previously voted against all environmental measures. Different countries, different values.

Raoul Balurdin

Movement in the village has been disrupted for the past two weeks because a film is being made in the rue du Faubourg, my street, a hundred yards further along from me. The first inkling we had of this was when plastic trees and foliage started appearing on the fronts of houses along the street. I asked what was going on and was told that they were props for a film entitled Raoul Balurdin that was about to be made. So who is/was Raoul Balurdin? Nobody seemed to know anything other than that he was a bicycle repair man who couldn't ride a bike. Mention of a bicycle repair man immediately called to my mind the Monty Python sketch, the spoof of Superman: «wherever in the world there is a bicycle in trouble, bicycle repair man will be there!» Friend Daniel enlightened me a bit more this morning when I had a coffee with him, saying the story was from a novel that nobody seemed to have read. Nobody other then myself seemed interested in knowing anything more either. That doesn't augur well for the film but I guess a good film could overcome that handicap, even encourage more people to read the book.

Grandfather

My daughter and son-in-law, Nat and Andy, have now informed everyone they wanted to about the birth of their daughter, Eilidh, and so I am free to announce this in my blog. 

She's beautiful, of course, and I already have plans for her as a future captain of the Chelsea ladies' team and so have sent a teddy bear, a romper and a bib all in Chelsea colours. She'll undoubtedly show herself to be a good dribbler in the coming months. I've installed Skype so I can see her over the next few weeks until I go over around the end of July to see her in the flesh. Proud grandfather!

2017 UK Election: On Reflection

2017 UK Election: On Reflection

On the face of it the election result showed that the government has no mandate for a hard Brexit. This, now, is self-evidently the «will of the people» but don'expect the government to respect that. «The will of the people» was never more than a convenient excuse and the extreme right has never had much time for democracy anyway, as its numerous attempts to avoid parliamentary scrutiny have demonstrated. I think it would be foolish though to assume that the extreme right is as yet defeated. Hammond apart, most senior government posts are still held by the extreme right. Moreover, the mooted alliance with the DUP, with its overtones of cosiness with terrorist-linked groups and threat to peace in Northern Ireland, shows a desperate attempt to cling to power at whatever cost. However, the beauty of the extreme right is that it cannot embrace compromise and must cling to its path, even if that path leads to self-destruction. I hope it does in this case but the extreme right is not dead yet.

Nor should the revival of the Labour party's fortunes be overestimated. There was an undoubted large element of tactical voting in the election which may not be repeated in any future election. However a revival of some dimension must be accredited and I suspect that Corbyn's focus on social issues was crucial and hopefully will keep those at the top of the political agenda. Corbyn is to be congratulated on that and on securing his place at the head of the Labour party for the forseeable future.

The result obviously brings into question the form of Brexit the government can go for. The Daily Telegraph suggests that the government may already be in secret talks with the Labout party regarding the possibilities for a soft Brexit. The talks, if they exist, would have to be in secret because if known they would split the Conservative party completely in two. May has said she will get the Conservtive party out of the mess she has got it into but it is very difficult to see how she can do this. If, again, the talks are happening, they would be in line with declared Labour policy for a soft Brexit but the Labour party would be in position to demand more for any cooperation. It could demand some safeguards on social issues or a parliamentary vote (even a second referendum?) on any final Brexit deal. Needless to say, any of that would be anathema to the extreme right. I suspect that answers to much of this will become clearer once talks with the EU are underway and the initial issues of the rights of EU citizens and financial payments are decided (or not). On the former point, I note that EU Directive 2004/38/EC, which limits free movement for longer than three months, was never implemented in the UK. Now how did that happen?

It will be interesting also to see what line the gutter press in the UK takes in the future. It's campaigns of hate and misinformation patently failed but, if Rupert Murdoch and Lord Rothermere have to give up on their apparent dream of a UK tax haven for the moment, they cannot but react with anger to any soft Brexit deal. We can expect howls of headline protest against «27 countries lined up against us» (they're called the EU) and against the EU totally unreasonably sticking to its treaties and regulations (how dare it?) but what else? Has its readership started trying to use its brains, Heaven forbid? If blatant lies and slurs don't work, could a subtler approach be applied? But then asking the gutter press to be subtle is like asking an elephant to be dainty and, anyway, their readership would probably miss any subtlety. Like the Conservative party, the gutter press will need a rethink.

"Stable and strong" has become weak and wobbly. Time for a rethink indeed.

UK Election 2017: Immediate Reaction

UK Election 2017: Immediate Reaction

I woke to some good news this morning and, since good news is normally better to read than bad news, I shall relay it as I see it.

A hung Parliament is the best result I could reasonably have hoped for, so that pleases me. A wag has suggested that someone is going to have to explain to Donald Trump what a hung Parliament means, which should slow him down for a week or two (add coalition government and make that a month). Nigel Farage is upset, which should please everyone, and Rupert Murdoch is reportedly very angry, which means the Sun newspaper has failed in its campaign and puts it in the rubbish bin where it belongs. The best tweet I saw was football commentator Gary Lineker's, that Theresa May should be awarded own goal of the season. All good news.

A hung Parliament increases uncertainty and confusion and why should I want that? Because it gives the idea of a hard Brexit a good kicking and, to paraphrase May herself, shows that maybe no prime minister is better than a bad prime minister. Brexit means Mexit? I still regard the referendum result as a speculative extreme right-wing coup and the extreme right-wing got a good kicking too. Going in no certain direction may not be ideal but it is certainly better than going hell for leather («stably and strongly») in the wrong direction.

The financial markets reacted predictably by marking down the pound and the UK economy. But the financial markets typically change their minds every few days/weeks, in line with in-play betting saloon that they really are. I happen to believe that the election result could be good for both the pound and the UK economy in the long-term, which is never a concern of the financial markets.

A catch-phrase among opposition parties was that June should see the end of May. It has. She's staying on as Prime Minister for the moment, even though the honourable thing to do would be to resign. By her own declared criterion («if I lose 6 seats or more I will have lost the election») she lost the election. But what has honour to do with the current government? Still the knowledge that Tory bigwigs' knives must be hovering somewhere in the region of her kidneys should concentrate her mind wonderfully. If no one removes her earlier, perhaps a complaint registered with north Yorkshire police will do it. She lied about Diane Abbot in a pre-election speech there and to do so is a criminal offence with a precedent of a Conservative MP banned from public office. Who will eventually replace her must be problematic. Boris Johnson is surely too much of a clown and too lightweight to contemplate and I think that David Davis is not really trusted even by his own party. Maybe we can borrow Emmanuel Macron for a while.

I have been puzzled for months as to why neither of the major political parties appears to be interested in the middle ground, where most votes are generally considered to lie. The middle ground, though, has shown that it is still interested by apparently rejecting both extremes. Will some party please pay attention?

Some interesting statistics emerged in the pre-election wrangling. Pre-election polls showed around 70% of the over-65s intended to vote Conservative while the same percentage of under-25s intended to vote Labour. Interestingly almost exactly the same split appeared in the post-referendum analysis: 70% oldies to leave and the same percentage of youngsters to remain. The people with most at stake in the future of the UK have clearly shown what they want, even if they are unlikely to get it.

Some financial statistics were also of interest. It turns out that, over the last 50 years, Conservative administrations have borrowed significantly more and repaid significantly less than Labour administrations. So, contrary to popular belief, Labour has been the financially responsible party and the Conservative party the spendthrifts. Conservative complaints that Labour proposals haven't been properly costed are countered by David Davis admission that the hard Brexit for which we were headed hasn't been costed at all. Furthermore, since the last cut in corporation tax (with another promised by the government) investment in companies has gone down, not up as claimed, the extra money going to shareholders. So cuts in corporation tax do not encourage investment by

companies. The more Alice in Wonderland claims are made by politicians and myths promulgated the more reliable financial statistics become relevant.

What will be the effect of a coalition government, with the DUP? I've no idea, like most people probably. However, immediate post-election analysis showed Brexit to be the principal issue among Consservative voters and social matters to be that among Labour voters. Northern Ireland voted in favour of remaining in the EU and social concerns there will certainly be paramount, if not necessarily with the DUP. The Irish border and peace agreement dependency on the EU will also certainly be a major issue. Whatever the case, May may not get away with her apparent plan to sell off the NHS and turn the UK into an offshore tax haven with no appreciable public services.

The NHS, Naylor Report And Election

The NHS, Naylor Report And The Election

The suggested, by the Leave campaign, £350 million for the NHS if the UK left the EU is now generally accepted as the lie that it always was. Some, however, still think that there should be some extra money for the NHS. The Naylor Report nails (sic) that. Theresa May's assertion that she will implement the Naylor Report means that not only is there not £350 million extra for the NHS there is actually no extra money at all, not even a penny. NHS Trusts will first have to sell of any property assets they have (buildings, land) if they want extra money. All NHS assets are to be transferred to a new body, NHS Properties. The government will then double, for the NHS Trust in question, whatever sum is raised by the sale of its asset, up to a total of £10 billion for all NHS Trusts. This will be trumpeted as a further £10 billion investment in the NHS. NHS Property Services is to be run by a person with strong connections to American healthcare.

Let's take an example. An NHS Trust strapped for cash and urgently in need for more (all of them?) has an asset worth £20 million. It very urgently needs at least some of that money and so must sell, urgently. What is the negotiating position of a potantial buyer? The buyer could say: «We'll give you just £10 million, then the government will give you another £10 million, and so you will get the £20 million you need». That must look like daylight robbery to the NHS Trust involved but it can't wait and the investor can. So what happens? With competition for the asset, most probably some compromise is reached (£12 million say, even £15 million?) and so the investor gets a bargain. The overall result? The NHS Trust loses something and the investor gets rich. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.

Those who bought the £350 million on the side of that famous bus now must know that they were conned. The to-be-trumpeted £10 billion investment in the NHS is another con. The principal referendum conmen are now senior government figures. They are good at conning; it makes them successful. So do you think they are going to stop doing it? If you like being conned, vote for them; you can be sure you will be conned in the future.

May Versus Corbyn: The TV Debate

May vs Corbyn: The TV «Debate»

Clarity is all. It wasn't quite a debate because the two weren't face to face but I thought it an interesting exercise anyway. I thought neither did particularly well but nor did they do particularly badly. Judging by its reactions, the audience was quite well balanced in its sympathies, even including a small but obvious UKIP claque.

The clearest point that came through to me was when Paxman questioned May on her view of the economic impact of Brexit, which May had stated before the referendum as likely to be very damaging. May, very pointedly I thought under close questioning from Paxman, made no attempt to retract that opinion. She merely repeated that she was going to make a success of Brexit (and that «strong and stable government» would help, even if it doesn't affect the strength of the EU hand in negotiations).

So, what could success look like. Presumably it means minimising the economic damage. What else can it mean? With trading agreements with the EU and some 50+ other countries certain to be generally less advantageous (see previous postings), the economic damage could be very considerable indeed. Add the cost of Brexit and….……...So how can damage be minimised? I can't see any way other than a quick trade agreement with the EU, which must therefore be very much on their terms. That was what impressed me most in the debate and I don't think it came though clearly, perhaps because both contestants were on the same side regarding Brexit. Nonetheless Brexit will go ahead since both major political parties support what one commentator described as «a unique national act of deliberate self-harm». The decision of an electorate admittedly lied to, misinformed and widely ignorant of the consequences must be «respected».

And clarity is perhaps what is most lacking. The government has made several efforts to avoid parliamentary scrutiny of negotiations and most of the British press is unlikely to publish any bad news in that regard. May insists she needs lack of clarity so as not to reveal her negotiating hand but the EU has insisted that all negotiations must be open and transparent; so the EU itself will be an invaluable source of information over the coming years. Indeed, the EU has stated that it believes the British electorate is still ignorant of the implications of Brexit, as it most obviously is. Why would people vote to be worse off?

Two things trouble me most. One is the seemingly far too easy general acceptance of essentially empty slogans. To the «making Britain great» and «taking control» can now be added «strong and stable government» and the comfortably optimistic escape clause that «nobody yet knows how things will turn out». Nobody yet knows whether the world will end tomorrow but one can examine the evidence, think (above all, THINK) and come to some form of reasonably probable conclusion. I hate that so few people seem to question what this populist garbage and blind unsubstantiated hope really means. The other troubling item is the aggressive stance of extreme right-wing, essentially UKIP, supporters on every public platform. It smacks too much of brown shirts. I can't remember when the neo-Nazi element in the British public was as prominent as it is now.

Macron And The Secret Of Life

Macron And The Secret Of Life

I had proposed to Steve that we should have a meeting of the English conversation class at my house, for aperitifs, rather than in the room below the Mairie, and he agreed. So this evening we did it. It was a success in all respects, I think. Certainly everybody seemed to enjoy themselves, some staying for three hours and everybody for at least two. The food all got eaten (I hate left-overs from aperitif sessions), the wine supply was seriously diminished and the conversation never flagged. Most importantly, with a couple of minor lapses, everyone spoke English all the time. (I had threatened them with Wolof and Spanish as the only acceptable alternatives to English for the evening, sure that nobody spoke either.) Two-three hours solid of English was no mean feat for people who still find speaking English a challenge.. I felt I had to congratulate everyone. These are people who wanted more in life, but not financially.

It led me to reflect on life here. For me it is great; I love the locality, a lot of the people, the weather, the scenery, the local produce and the village life in general. But I am retired and can afford to indulge in all that. For a younger person the scene must be different. Younger people need to build a life and job opportunites and variety here are very constrained. Some, it seems, are content to just «get by». They survive economically on casual employment and are otherwise content just to enjoy the same good things that I do. But building a better life must be problematic. With just oneself to take care of there is little problem but if one wants to raise a family and give them a better life, how can it be done?

The problem is probably common in small rural communities across the world. Here it seems to coalesce into two distinct attitudes among the French to themselves and, indeed, to their new President. I have French friends who want things to stay very much as they are, because life as it is seems good to them. Others decry this, say the French are just dozing, and laud what they perceive as the anglo-saxon attitude of «get up and go». Some have commented on how the English (friends Jo and Steve and I) have invigorated the life of the village with our English conversation classes, organisation of ad hoc choirs, (English) floral displays and boules playing.

A contributing factor is certainly the oft-proclaimed north-south divide and from which you happen to originate; in other words, the weather. If the outlook is cold, wet and bleak, whatever you do you are not going to relax outside. Also you need to keep warm and you need the money to fund that, a considerable incentive to use initiatve and find paid work. This in turn, I feel, spills over into social life. Do you just accept what the commune offers for entertainment and interest or do something to add to it? So what is the secret for a satisfying life?

These dilemmas come together in Macron. My French friends seem to be ambivalent about him. He won the presidency primarily, I think, as the preferable alternative to Le Pen. What the French seem to find puzzling about him is that he has impeccable credentials for neither right nor left, which confounds their love of pure theory. His penchant for entrepreneurialship appeals to the right but he has socialist tendencies also. The left accept his socialist claims but deplore the entrepreneurial side. The big problem for the French, it seems, is that they can't place him anywhere in theory, neither fowl nor beast. But maybe, just maybe, that is exactly what France needs for a better life for its citizens. Whatever the future holds for French life, to the usual certainties of death and taxes can be added demonstrations and strikes as Macron attempts to make the changes he feels are necessary.

Hyères, Chelsea and Fruit

Hyères

The stay in Hyères for the regional boules championships was very enjoyable even if my team didn't do very well. The hotel looked out over the bay and you could see the Porquerolles islands clearly, bringing to mind Jospeh Conrad's novel The Rover, which I had studied at school. When I go to the coast I still get surprised by how different and far in advance the vegetation there is from that around Mollans, considering it is only a couple of hours drive away. Apart from the Mediterranean pines, which frame all the views, the lack of hard frosts in the region mean that plants that don't survive the winter here are already in full bloom there in early May, gazanias, bougainvillea and many others providing a panoply of vivid colour. The weather wasn't great, with a very high wind blowing continuously, but that somehow suited the scenery and brought The Rover even more to mind.

Chelsea

I have been restrained in mentioning my fanatical support for Chelsea football club in this blog but can't resist mentioning them now that they have once again won the Premier League in England. This time they have done it with not only the grit and consistency required but also panache and flair. I'm among the probably very few supporters now who saw them lift this trophy for the first time in 1955 when, as a 13 year-old I invaded the pitch at the end of the last game of the season and stood in adulation of the team in front of the East Stand. An aunt had taken me to my first game at the stadium, Stamford Bridge, in 1952, a 2-2 draw with Aston Villa if I remember rightly, That was when the bug first bit me and I have been bitten by it ever since. Coincidentally, neighbour Monique told me that she always had all the news about Chelsea from a grandson of hers in Paris who had surprised his family by turning down the offer of a Paris St Germain shirt and insisting he wanted only a Chelsea one. Good for him. When he visits Monique we'll have to get together.

Fruit And Garden

The first cherries are now in the shops and markets. Unlike the season for other fruit the cherry season does not last long but supplements the strawberries and melons now in plentiful supply. I always have a melon and some strawberries in the house at this time of year but will have to find space, in my stomach as well as the house, for some cherries as well. There is a variety here, griottes, that is not sweet (or sour) and is used just in preserves; I never remember encountering them in England but I guess they must be grown there.

And, finally, all the roses in my back garden are now in full bloom so I can't resist adding a photo of some of them. The back garden is looking good and a French friend gave me the French phrase I have been searching for to explain the look to French friends who think it seems to be a jungle or ngelected. The phrase is «un savant désordre»; thanks, Yvette.