Sunday 7th April

It might not surprise you to know that I am totally opposed to Great Britain having an independent Nuclear Deterrent, or anyone else having one either for that matter.  But the arguments are interesting on both sides.  What almost everyone is agreed upon is that an exchange of nuclear weapons, no matter how small would be a disaster for mankind.  It may well be the case that the Atom bomb hastened the end of a war which America was winning anyway, and may have consequently saved many thousands of lives, notwithstanding the fact that thousands did die in the commission of it, and the radiation which followed.

The argument for deterrence has always been based on a strange assumption.  Because we have the means of annihilating you if you attempt to annihilate us then somehow that fact will stop you from attacking us.  But of course this would be mutual destruction, which neither side wants – and so the deterrence only works as long as it is not used.  However to be credible one must pretend that we would use it, even if by using it then the game would be lost anyway.  A game of bluff and super-bluff which may once or twice have given enough pause for thought so that more rational arguments came into play.  Sting wrote a song on his first solo album, released at the height of the cold war about why the Russians love their children too.  In fact the Russians were just as scared that we wanted to bomb them to bits as we were of them.

The game has changed now though, with several countries having nuclear capability, including Isreal, India and Pakistan as well as the old hands of China and the USA.  The argument for maintaining our independent deterrent, or weapons of mass destruction is that in an uncertain world we do not know where the threat will come from.  But we have Nato, we have the EU, we know that America would never let us be attacked without coming to our defence, and anyway whatever the provocation would we really retaliate with Nuclear Weapons which against a power larger than us would bring about our total destruction, and against one far smaller would result in world condemnation.

Every conflict has to end with people talking, so why resort to arms anyway.  We should be finding ways of bringing countries like Iran and North Korea closer to us not imposing sanctions on them which only serve to hurt the people and to alienate the leadership.

At the moment North Korea is threatening the West, but even if they do fire missiles at us is it worth destroying so many more lives by a disproportionate response.  Diplomacy must be the only way forward.  And if that fails and missiles are launched then of course Nuclear Deterrence has failed too.  Then where will all the arguments stand?  Let us hope that wiser heads prevail and the crisis can be talked down without any loss of life.

Saturday 6th April

And before you know it the holiday is almost over.  This is the eighth day and I feel I am just beginning to relax, to slough off the work life and enjoy just being here.  Today, vendredi – Friday pour vous, despite snow in England it was sunny again here in Eymet.  We went to Bergerac pour le shopping –  a big trading estate with row after row of stores; Conforama, Baji, Gaya, Maisons pour vous and our favourite But.  We were looking for a screen for the garden room – we had a toilet, shower and sink installed which are lovely  but their position offers no protection from anyone actually in the garden.  We found a really nice one which works perfectly. Its slatted upper half (louvre door style) allow anyone inside to see out without being seen at all,  we also got a small chest of drawers and a mirror and a couple of stools.

We spent the afternoon finishing off the paving slabs, loose laid on sand and shingle, but not at all bad for that, and the rest of the door painting.

Now, I am sitting inside Café de Paris, the weather has turned a bit chillier, drinking café au lait and waiting for the last of our guest sheets to be washed in the lavomat.  A good week, but of course no writing done at all, I never really expected to do any.  I also brought some paints and canvases and brushes out but again they will have to wait.

I am determined to get down here for a few weekends before the real summer hits and maybe then.  I am still on course to go down to three days a week some time this summer, so that will free up a bit more time.  I am getting to the age when time is more valuable to me than money.

Anyway, the next blog will be from cold England. Hopefully the world will still be at peace, though I am not at all certain that North Korea is not just sabre rattling – let us hope that they are for all our sakes.

Friday 5th April

It seems we have been here for years, but it still is less than a year, as Easter was two weeks later last year, and we only viewed the house then.  It took a few weeks to agree a price, then last Whitsun we agreed and signed the interim price for the house and paid our deposit.  We actually completed about the 10^th August, so despite about 6 visits it really hasn’t been that long.  And there is always lots to do.

The garden room door was already warped, but the builder has made it worse.  He had also over-tiled the floor making the sticky door even stickier, and it now opens only about a foot.  We bought a plane and I managed to plane and sand enough off the bottom so that it opens properly now, but there is a huge gap at the bottom when the door is closed.  I had to get a door jamb cut to size at Resaeu Pro, the local builders yard, and then glue and fill it in place, plus lots of chips and scratches around the door frame, so much sanding filling resanding and painting to make it look even half decent.  I suspect that some time or other we will need a new door and frame completely, but for now it looks much better.

We are also laying paving slabs on the loose gravel in the courtyard, so that we can eat out in the summer.  Fifty six heavy paving blocks into and out of the car, through the house and then each one has to be laid.  We have broken the back of it, and maybe our own backs too in the doing of it, but a few hours tomorrow and it should be complete.

So, a day of quite a bit of work, but unlike the daily grind you really do not mind at all.  Sore and aching fingers but gradually we are getting the place perfect.

Thursday 4th April

Haven’t seen any TV in a few days, just caught a whiff now and then, and actually all the better for it.  The last of our house guests has just left us, and we are beginning to get the house straight.  It is amazing how you really can get nothing achieved when there are people here.

Today, (yesterday for you) we went to Montpazier, the prettiest of the Bastides and usually the most touristic.  Half the shops weren’t open yet and the vast square was empty apart from a half dozen French people drinking coffee and chatting away so fast you could only catch a word here or there.  It was so sunny, by far the best day yet and we sat and lifted our tired faces to the sun.  We really did not want to move it was so relaxing.  If only every day could be like this – and actually it could be soon, if and when we actually retire.  It really felt like the first day of spring, tulips and crocuses as well as daffodils were opening wide to the sun, cats lay basking on roof tops, dogs scampered around the arched square.

Not a care in the world we ambled along and enjoyed the shops which are usually buzzing with summer visitors, bought a few things for lunch and one or two more bits for the house.

A nice lazy lunch of salad, cold meats, cheese, and boiled eggs topped off with crème brulee.  What could be nicer.

Took our last guest to the airport and settled down for a nice sunny evening of odd jobs, pottering about etc:  Such a perfect little day that I could really get used to this life.

Wednesday 3^rd April

There were times this winter when I thought I might never be able to do this again.  Just to sit in the sun.  It is quite late, five o’clock French time, which only a week ago was three in the afternoon in England.  And the sun is shining and warm.  I hope it is where you are.  The days at this time of the year often start off poorly, light drizzle, overcast, mist on the hills – only to loosen up after lunch when the sun comes out.

It has been a hard day, after four days of comparative rest, though running around after guests is not exactly relaxing either.  The garden room (for a while we called it the West wing, but even we thought this a tad pretentious) needed painting.  It had been used as an outhouse or storage room for a few years.  We had electricity and water connected, and a shower, hand-basin and toilet put in over the winter.  We also had the floor re-tiled.  It was looking lovely but of course all these new tiles and taps just made the shabby and marked walls even shabbier.

I think they must have used some sort of distemper for the walls, as it is a bit powdery and seems to attract dirt and marks whenever you touch it.  Five hours later and half a tin of Dulux brilliant white and it is looking clean and much better, though it may well need another coat soon.  It was hard work as the paint seemed reluctant to actually adhere to the walls, and it took a lot longer than I thought.  Makes me realise I am not getting any younger.  And now for a moment I am enjoying this bliss of late afternoon sun.

Tuesday 2^nd April

Oh to be in the Dordogne, where every day there is a market somewhere.  Today was one of my favourites, Miramont, which is the nearest reasonable sized town.  It is a bit shabby, a bit commercial, a bit hustly-bustly, but the market is good.  It extends right round the square and through roads out in all directions, it is far less touristy and more for the locals.

We also took in Duras, which is a lovely town up on a hill with a chateau we have never found open before, but today it was and we gave it a look.  It had been unoccupied and derelict after the war, and was taken over by the Commune in 1969 and has been largely restored for the tourist trade.  Well. Today we were tourists, and took it all in.  It was actually a nice museum like tour, with lots of old farm and craft implements, a bakery, the obligatory dungeon and a well, and large rooms with big Seigneurial fireplaces.

Then home for lunch and a lazy afternoon.  Two of our guests left today and we now have a bit more room, and can relax a bit.  As the old song goes, it’s so nice to go travelling but so much nicer to come home.  Well. Lovely as it is to have guests, it is also lovely when they depart.

Monday 1^st April

Tempted as I am to write about the Government and all the changes to Benefits, bedroom tax, loss of Child Benefit, cut in top rate of tax for the wealthiest and all, let’s leave that all for another day.  Suffice it to say that April Fool’s day is well named, as Government after Government introduces mad changes on this day, making the March hare seem positively normal.

I am sitting out in glorious sunshine in a thin shirt drinking Hoegarten outside the Café de Paris with Michael and Alan.  Today was Issigeac market, where we came a year ago.  We know a handful of stall holders quite well now, and had good chats with them like old friends.  On the way home we tried to find a Cave where we had bought the most fantastic wine last year.  We drove to Montbazilliac and round and round and then suddenly there it was, Chateua Lalande, with three barrels outside.  It looked shut up, but there was a sign to sonnez ici, so we rang the bell.  After a minute or two out popped a lovely old chap who laughed and joked with us.  He knew no English and surprisingly he understood our French.  It was his son who served us last year but he looked just an older version of the same man.

We bought a few bottles of Rouge Doux and Blanc Sec and all left happy.  The familiarity of finding a little gem you found last year, and the simple pleasure of buying some wine.

And all day the sunshine kept getting stronger and warmer too.

Friday 12th April

Amidst all the analysis of Thatcher which has so dominated the news there has been little discussion of the way the media played such a part in her success.  Interest in her was first sparked because of her surprise victory in winning the Conservative leadership, if only as novelty value because she was a woman.  And, nervous at first, she soon became adept at manipulating both her image and her message.  At that time there was a natural deference towards women, a politeness which was not afforded by men to fellow men, and she was rarely contradicted or bullied by interviewees.  In fact the only embarrassing moment in all her stage-managed television interviews was when an ordinary woman refused to be bullied by her (it was about the ship Admiral Belgrano sailing away from the Falklands when it was sunk) and stuck to her guns and made Thatcher look ridiculous.   After that she was kept well away from ordinary people who were not intimidated by her.

Before her the media were hardly used by politicians.  She was fortunate in having allies like Murdoch and the Mail and Telegraph who couldn’t believe their luck that a real Tory was back in power.  Then there was Bernard Ingham, a recent convert to Thatcher who was belligerent and bullied television and any newspapers not falling into line with the Thatcher version.  Ingham makes Alistair Campbell look like a poodle.  And so the myth of Margaret was created.

At the time I thought she looked ridiculous on top of a tank with her scarf wrapped round her head, but Lord Bell her PR guru used this and more and more ludicrous images of her which many in the public lapped up.

Despite the folk memory of her massive popularity, even with a divided opposition she never won more than 43% of the vote, which was matched by Blair and beaten by the ‘unpopular’ John Major.

So much that is spoken of her is a myth, and now that she has died the myth will continue.  Thank God she died two years before the election and not during it, where real damage might have resulted.  Rest in peace, and please media – give us a little peace too.

Sunday 31st March

Today has been a funny old day, cold and wet at times, sunny at others.  A blistering gale and glorious warm sunshine, and neither lasting for very long.  We went to Villareal market and dodging the pouring rain bought ingredients for lunch.  We were going to Montpazier for a bit of sightseeing when we saw a sign for Chateau Biron, and we thought it might be worth a look.

Half expecting to be able to maybe buy some wine, as you can at Chateau Duras, but not sure what to expect we drove up higher and higher along narrower and narrower little roads.  Then we spotted towering above us the Chateau itself.  It was grand and imposing with high towers and several wings, all on a high plateau, rising far above everything else in sight.  The road got even narrower and we cautiously followed the Chateau entrance signs.

Parking the car there was a steep sloped walkway leading up over slippery cobble stones and mud to the entrance proper, which of course was never the entrance of old, but a side archway into the central now grassed-over courtyard.  The tour started with more and more steps up and almost outside to a doorway, then up a series of circular stairs into a series of grand halls, each with imposing stone carved fireplaces, and either intricately tiled or wooden inlaid floors, up and up we went until we were among the beams themselves.

Beautifully carved and curved and all with complicated joints the roof soared above us.  You could see the inside of the roof-tiles, and amazingly none were nailed, they each had a thumb made indentation so that they hooked over the horizontal batons in tiny row after tiny row of perfect neat tiles.

The only thing lacking was any original furniture, it was just a series of splendid rooms and mullioned windows and turrets and battlements.  We saw two rooms which must have actually been bedrooms with en-suite toilets.  Stone holes with a straight drop down of at least a hundred feet.  We all tried them out and there just where you would want it was an angled window so you could have a nice view of the surrounding fields and woods as you got rid of yesterday’s junk.

And France is literally dotted with these places, Chateau after chateau all over the country, you could never hope to see them all.

Saturday 30th March

I apologise to all my readers en Angleterre but we flew into Bergerac in bright sunshine and a gorgeous but not spectacular 18 degrees C.  Which is of course a lot warmer than it has been for weeks back home.  Oh, the luxury of walking out in a shirt with your sleeves rolled up and tilting your face to the sun.

And it is lovely here.  Spring has truly sprung, everything is warm and mellow and inviting.  So glad we got away from all that icy wind and perpetual cold.

We had a lovely walk around town, coffee in Kismet, then we bought the ingredients for a lovely salad lunch, boiled potatoes, parma ham, rillettes, a few cheeses, avocado and gorgeous French bread.

A little sleep after lunch and now we are going out this afternoon for a drive and a walk with the dogs around the lake at Lougratte.

So a lovely Good Friday.  Only slight regret – no hot cross buns.   You can’t have everthing.