'Bonjour M'Ongoose. Could you help me up with these ? '. The Old Farmer has found two metal benches for the back of the Ford Transit pickup. Yesterday afternoon was spent touching them up with white enamel paint. He wants both benches facing forward in the direction of travel. This proves to be impractical. Access can only be obtained by clambering over the side of the truck and then swinging yourself into position. An unlikely mode of entry for an eighty year old. Finally they are put in sideways, facing each other . This way the village octogenarians can climb in from the rear and make their way gracefully forward. ' What are you going to secure them to the floor with ? ' I ask. The look of incomprehension tells me that that Anglo-Saxons and the French will never understand each other.
To avoid the absence of 'comfort stations' The Old Farmer has plotted a tour of neighbouring Salle des Fetes with loos. Today they will be going to the village on the other side of the ridge. A thriving metropolis with a population of 42. A minnow in comparison with our chicly urbane 67. There will be 'fresh' faces to chat to and 'facilities'.
For Bob and Sophie a day for a long walk down to what was the stream but is now a slightly damp patch of mud at the bottom of the valley. On our way back we stand and watch as the octogenarians head off on their wind swept adventure. Angus prays they- and their unsecured benches ( and the wine filled stainless steel tea urn ) - don't have to brake suddenly.
11 comments:
Angus, I love reading your blog - French life is certainly different from mine in Wellington, New Zealand and I do envy you! Can you tell me, would there be repercussions if the Old Farmer had an accident on his travels with his 'oldies'? Given he has no licence, no brakes, no seat belts, almost certainly no Warrant of Fitness (I presume there are WOF equivalents in deepest France profonde) ? Over here, some officious individual would be stopping their fun ASAP!!
Presbyterian societies worry about consequences. Latin ones don't.
The reckless joy of being 80+ in deepest France profonde! It must take them back to being teenagers in the fifties!
From our experiences of deepest France profonde, the roads are traffic free. If he did have an accident, the biggest worry would be finding the Old Farmer and the oldies - if they couldn't get a phone signal. However, as long as no-one was injured, we doubt they'd worry until the tea urn ran dry!
The absence of cars is a delight. There again those that are on the road rarely stay on their side of the white line !
Time enough to get up to all that mischief that they were too busy to do then .
Oh how my father would have loved to join the party on the Old Farmer's tour bus.
Cheers, Gail.
Where's your sense of adventure. SHE hope SHE can do that when 80. Unfortunately, strict laws forbid the benches....and everyone would have to have a seat belt....and probably the wine would be banned, as well....
I can visualize the whole thing! We wouldn't be allowed to have fun like that in the States:)
Do all the Salles des Fetes provide the 5 euro lunch? What a hoot on a hot summer day! Drink wine, drive around in an open air tour bus and visit the neighboring villages for lunch! Your village octogenarians must have quite a reputation with the neighboring villages!
Fingers crossed the outings fare well and safely!
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