Joyeux Noel from the Charente

Non, non, non je ne suis pas parler avec Noel, I simply don't have a French keyboard to add the two little dots!!

And this little post is just a simple Christmas card from us two cuddled up in front of the fire (avec warm spiced plonk, naturellement) to all nos bons amis en Australie!

First, a few more of my really excellent good pics of  Le Champs Elysees at Christmas:

Any commentary would be superfluous.

But I can't resist adding our old friend telling the world "REGARDEZ MOI"

When Val and I first went shopping for those vital supplies in late November we were quite surprised to note the lack of Christmas decorations in the shops and streets. We knew that France was definitely secular, having given the official thumbs up to organized religion about 1789, but this apparent lack of Christmas zeal really was too much. After all, in any normal commercial society, you know, like the Sunshine Plaza, the chrissy decs go up early October!

Glory be, hallelujah, and all that stuff....our consternation was quite misplaced. Come the first of December, shop owners and assistants are setting out the holly, the Christmas decorations, the Christmas trees etc etc etc and carols burst forth from every supermarche PA system (quite often Bing Crosby would you believe).

Now, talking of Christmas trees, check this lot out:

Galleries Lafeyette super colossal offering to Mammon complete with clockwork scenes....actually most impressive, note the scale against the backdrop of shopping tiers and people!

Next step down, this medium size one was in main plaza at Poitiers

While this one was in the small town of Bourdielles, the seat of a barony with two medium sized chateaus side by side, one a small medieval castle which changed hands regularly during the 100 Years War, but all the while the peasants still had to pay the toll to the latest baron just to cross the olde bridge.

EVERY village exhibits a display of Christmas spirit, with Christmas trees like the one above attached to just about every shop front or household. There are also bows on fences and posts. Some villages, like the local St Severin (incidentally, a regular Pommie stronghold....but I don't think they are all a hangover from the 100 Y's war....I do get sidetracked, don't I) have beautiful trees and quite exquisite boxed decorations. Seems to depend on the town budget, because there is a marked difference between villages, some obviously are better off. And there is always a theme throughout each village, and they are all delightful to our Australian eyes. And, incidently, there is no vandalism!

Just an aside: we went shopping for tinsel, just a strand of tinsel. 5 dollars for just two meters!!!! No way, Val made her own, as we see others have done in many places including some large co-op shops.

Seeing as how Val and I are into this French thing, we had to do our bit:

Both outside and inside. If you have a keen eye,
there's a message for you beside the basil plant.























A white Christmas in Juignac, well perhaps this is what we will have. Outside our door some days back, frost (photo courtesy of Mary-Lou)

And now, it's good bye from me and its goodbye from her, but not before she, ma belle femme, insisted that these two little gems be added:

Here's to the Dork, just getting some little Vin Chaud, to help keep the ears warm

Have a great Christmas, we will, love and cheers to all
Bryan and Val

And no, I am definitely NOT chatting up another French waitress!!!

 PS: this really did start as a simple, short Christmas Card.....but the Hemingway in me just can't be held back!

How to proposition a French waitress!!!!

Val and I opted to fly to France with Korean Air with an overnight sleepover in Incheon, thus actually flying by day on both legs. This got us into Paris in the early evening, having followed the setting sun across Russia and northern Europe. Absolutely beautiful sunset colours curving across the sky and the night lights of St Petersburg outlining the city's river, canals and streets in brilliant twinkling orange detail. Later, Denmark's peninsular and islands were stunning in the twilight with the Baltic coastline as a further backdrop!

Two nights in Paris was just sufficient to take in the city Christmas lights. These were not as extensive as we thought they might be, but still impressive. The Tour Eiffel changed on the hour to flashing white lights from top to bottom...actually quite tacky, we thought, as we laughed at being in Paris in the cold drizzle and walking to the Galleries Lafayette. Stunning is the only real word to describe the Lafayette window displays. Gorgeous, intricate clockwork creations, often very funny....the local squire's Christmas drinks party was hilarious.

Val at the Champs Elysees Marche Noel

The second night we discovered the Marche Noel on the lower Champs Elysees which is a delight with every second stall offering vin chaud (mulled wine in Australian). One paid a deposit on the plastic cup but could redeem the deposit at any other stall, a great idea for keeping littering down. The lights here were beautiful and very accessible (gotta use that word somewhere) at eye level. Each tree had three overlapping circles of light, changing muted colour de temps en temps and each tree linked to the next with light chains. It seemed very cold to us two warm-blooded visitors...I pulled my scarf up over my beanie and tied it under my chin, to Val's merry amusement...."you look like a dork" she chortled, but my ears were WARM!!

Onwards to Le Petit Maine, our home away, to be met by Mary-Lou and Don at Angouleme station and a half hour drive to Le PM. We travelled by fast train from Paris...Australia needs to invest in this infrastructure....just great, very fast and relatively cheap....book early and check each departure's (there are usually several each day) varying cost are the secrets to French train travel.

Val and me arriving at Le Petite Maine...with lunch in the bag

I have mentioned in an earlier blog that Le PM is in the sticks.....well is is definitely rural France, surrounded by (unfenced) smallish, by our standards, paddocks and quite a lot of small forest copses. It's actually quite delightful countryside even in this early winter period. As in most of regional France, there are many small villages each with it's own fairly substantial 12th Century church (well, they all seem to claim ancient timelines). The age of piety and sincere belief certainly has left a myriad of churches, often only a mile or two apart, almost as if each country friar had to match his neighbour. That's quite unfair of course....there was belief and there was conviction in the needs of the soul, the hereafter and the need, the desperate need, to escape the devil's inferno. A noble could buy redemption by founding or endowing yet another chapel. I think I would draw the line, though, at the bishops, always of noble lineage, and their competing cathedrals, even beautiful as they are. Enough of this philosophy, onwards with a much more earthy and delectable and really true story....La French Waitress et Moi....her name's Valerie. 

Our local town, Montmoreau, is just that, a local town of no great charm but with all the shops etc necessary to basic life, including a small bar cum cafe. It's a town of about 3000 people, naturally with a small chateau perched on the hill overlooking the hoi poiloi. There's a small marie (town hall) salon de fete (community hall), one supermache, like IGA but with booze, servo, car wash (necessary) and playing fields.....and of course the local church, yet to be explored. There's also a tennis group which I may try to break into at a later date (when its a bit warmer perhaps).

Anyway, Don and Mary-Lou thought that they needed one last 'plat de jour' lunch with us before they headed off back to Maleny. Good idea, lets try the local bar/cafe, Le Piment Rouge, run by the said Valerie and her ex-rugby playing husband, both late thirties.

Valerie, with her lovely French accent welcomes us to the establishment...

"No, we don't have a reservation." 

"No trouble, we can fit you in"...not in the sun room but a little further back.

OK by us! Now, of course, after 18 months with our U3A French professor down in Caloundra once a week, I am the world's best tourist-French speaker. I will order the wine, says I.

 "Ah madam, comment ca va? Nous broissons...." I get no further, Valerie does a double take, steps a little backwards and looks at me agape. I stop, everyone looks at the two of us. Boisson is "drink" and boire is "to drink". I should have said, of course, "nous buvons" (we drink....)  Valerie recovers in good form and leans into my ear, whispering, "you have just said, "we make love". Puce is an understatement to describe the colour of my face, Don gleefully tells me afterwards.

Le Piment Rouge, Valerie et moi!

Of course, Val and Don and Mary-Lou are extremely keen to understand the nature of the exchange. Valerie translated. They laugh uproariously at my exploit. We agree that perhaps my statement might have been a tad more suggestive and expressive than "we make love".

On the way out, saying good day to mine host, Valerie tells her husband of the little exchange. He's highly delighted and has a great belly laugh.  In Anglo-Saxon terms he exclaims to all .....my gaffe is best translated  as  "lets f..."!!!

that's all folks....thank goodness.

cheers to all
Bryan    

As usual, comments always welcome,