Tag Archives: gardening

France – Saint-Junien & Saint Pardoux

After our relaxing, relatively speaking, week of birthdays and dinner parties, we continued with our renovations and works.  We were refreshed, attacking jobs with a renewed vigour and keener eye. We ticked off many items but our to-do list continued to grow longer as we discovered other items needing replaced or other projects we suddenly felt excited by.  Ensuring variation in our tasks kept our interest and energy high.  Our focus is on working hard, but we have the freedom to stop, rest, take a day off, have a dip in the pool or try something new when the mood takes us.  We are tied to nothing, our time is ours to use as we wish. We have been foraging, baking cakes, learning music and languages, stone wall building, roofing, planning orchard tree layouts, digging our fledgling vegetable patch.

LaJourdanie- (our first veg bed)

A previously ignored stone chicken shed, with a semi-collapsed roof, surrounded by weeds and with years of thick, compacted rubble inside was suddenly seen as a potential man-cave.  I would sneak away to work on clearing this at intervals between prepping or painting walls.  Looking for more outside jobs whilst the weather was good, Nicky got excited about uncovering the circular stone well set tight on our boundary.  It was almost entirely blanketed in ivy, with a thick carpet of moss on the broken canal tiles scattered loosely around its ineffective roof.  We added its revival to our long list of to-do works.  We dipped in and out of these unessential garden jobs at the whims of mood and weather, enjoying our time outside and the constant, obvious progress that such distinctive clearances offered.

LaJourdanie- (Well roof - before)

LaJourdanie- (Well roof - after)

We had a visit from friends Monica and Ken from our previous house-sit in Cazeneuve.  After a long, enjoyable road trip on their shiny new Triumph motorbikes, they arrived with us early afternoon.  We fell into their easy company, swimming in our pool in the afternoon heat and sipping beers as we caught up.  We later walked around our place, giving them the full tour and garnering their helpful opinions and experiences on the works we are undertaking or planning to do.  We took a leisurely walk along a local grassy chemin to loop around a small lake, before returning for an al-fresco dinner and drinks.  We sat outside until darkness then retired to our lounge and chatted long into the night.  After breakfast we said our goodbyes as they headed off to further explore our region, visiting our recommendations of Oradour-sur-Glane and Brantôme.

St-Junien- (nicky with planes)

St-Junien- (aerobatic planes)

One fine day, as a different sort of effort, we cycled the 30km to Saint-Junien to visit an advertised airshow.  We followed minor roads and off-road trails where we could, waggling our way north all the time. The route was mostly downhill, a very pleasant roll passing through the small hamlet of St-Martin-de-Jussac to the river Vienne where we crossed the bridge into St-Brice-sur-Vienne.  Only then did we face a long, steep climb away from the river to the top end of Saint-Junien to reach the hosting airfield.  We abandoned our bikes and walked into the event, exploring lines of classic cars and obscure farming equipment, cannons and warfare implements, all manner of motorbikes and of course, small acrobatic planes that were the star of the event.  Local flights were available for all who wished it.

St-Junien- (classic cars)

St-Junien- (before and after car)

We checked out the museum displays and small stalls, surprised that the show was not busier.  We read posters describing in detail many planes and their uses, and watched a long queue of people take their turn to experience a virtual reality flying experience.  After a thorough look around and a few cheap sugary crêpes to fuel us, we got back on our bikes.  We took a different route home, simply for variation and exploratory purposes.  We passed through similar scenery and beautiful but hilly woodland paths, before stopping at Saint-Auvent to look in their pretty church.  Soon after, we paused at the étang de la Pouge, a long, thin lake that we hoped might have swim potential.  There were no signs saying no, but with the presence of fishermen, we feared it was not the best location for swimming.

Condat-sur-vienne - (race start)

Condat-sur-vienne - (us at race)

We entered a local 10km race, as something to shake us from our slumber on an otherwise lazy Sunday morning.  We drove twenty minutes to the village of Condat-sur-Vienne where the race would begin, parking in a nearby Lidl car-park.  It was a busy event, popular and bustling, and we felt good to be a small part of such a thriving running community.  The run took us on closed roads and along gravelled woodland tracks, with overhanging trees providing welcome shade from the morning sun.  52 minutes later we had completed our two laps of the marked 5km loop, having enjoyed the wonderful paths and the cheering crowds.  The mayor and other eminent locals presented a wealth of prizes in multiple categories, along with a tombola, using your race number, that gifted bottles of wine.

St-Pardoux - (Running walkways)

After a further few weeks of house-related works, we decided to treat ourselves with another break, this time a long weekend at Saint PardouxWe had visited it previously, enjoying the swimming lake and woodland trails, and it was close by, only 40 mins north of us.  We reached the comfortable aire, much less busy than on our last visit, and picked out a prime spot to relax into.  We knew our way around from before, so it was easy to plan our days here.  We ran each morning, following the coastal woodland trails on soft paths of tree roots and pine needles.  With only one bridge splitting the lake, we faced either a 27km loop of the entire lake, or more local laps around the lake edge and inland backroads.  The latter enabled us to create circular routes of 10 to 12km which suited our running level.

St-Pardoux - (lake sunset)

St-Pardoux - (causeway to island)

St-Pardoux - (returning to the lake)

Post-run, we rewarded ourselves with plenty of beach time, thinking of nothing other than the book in our hand as we soaked up the toasting sun.  We had frequent cooling dips into the cloudy water, but little real swimming.  Still feeling a little disappointed with her swimming performance in this summer’s SwimRun event, Nicky tried out various combinations of trainers, floats and neoprene shorts trying to find the optimal, speedy solution for her.  From the beach I timed her swims from buoy to buoy to ascertain how each outfit fared.  We ventured out for short evening walks, enjoying the burst of deep-red sunsets over the still water and the soothing sounds of calling birds.  Other motorhomes came and went, milling around busily, as we stayed still, unruffled, the calm centre of our restful universe.

LaJourdanie- (picking apples)

Fresh bread, croissants and pastries were available from a well-stocked vending machine behind the tourist building, refilled twice daily, so we had no need to move.  We could have stayed longer, enjoying our running and the fresh, lake-side air.  But we decided to return home after two nights and three days, as we found ourselves missing our house, and jobs not yet began were creeping back into our thoughts.  We were being taken over by a compulsion to work, to keep busy, to better our nest.  We wonder how long the novelty will last, this daily excitement of hard, physical work, so we want to utilise our willingness and drive whilst the determination still exists.  Yet these two nights in Benny, our time filled with runs and swims, re-sparked the interest and excitement of the road again.

Longer trips will soon be visible on our horizon.

A&N x

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France – Our first house-guest, the Birthday Girl

We invited Nicky’s mum Margaret to visit us, for the week spanning the occasion of her 71st birthday.  Sorry, 51st, she reminded me.  She was to be our first non-neighbouring visitor to see our new home and we were delighted to pause works and play at hosts.

LaJourdanie - (alfresco eating)

This was her fifth visit to see us since we headed off on our travels back in September 2016.  She first joined us in southern Spain to visit the area around Murcia and Cartagena.  We saw Roman amphitheatres and medieval cathedrals as we explored the back streets of the cities, and had long, peaceful coastal walks ending with sea swims.  Next up was a jaunt to the Lofoten Islands in northern Norway, taking in Viking festivals, wind-swept beaches and wild mountain walks.  When we made it back to France, she enjoyed joining us for a wintery Christmas break at La Reole whilst we were house-sitting, for riverside strolls and mulled wine picnics.  Most recently she joined us for a week at Lake Vassivière to watch our first SwimRun event and enjoyed lots of cooling lake dips alongside us.

LaJourdanie - (chilling)

LaJourdanie - (By the pool)

All very different times, places and experiences.  But this time she was to be the first guest in our new French house.  We had endeavoured to complete the redecoration of one spare room in time for her visit.  Her arrival also gave us an excuse to down tools and enjoy a very welcome and much needed rest from our on-going renovation works.  We drove to nearby Limoges airport and collected our visitor, exactly as we had done before our Lake Vassivière week.  We returned home and, once settled, offered the grand tour of the property with glass in hand.  We explained what it was like before, the works we had completed, began or are planning to do, likely boring in our obvious zeal.  We then sat together on our patio, overlooking our glistening pool, and chatted the day away in full catch-up mode.

LaJourdanie - (Birthday cake)

LaJourdanie - (Birthday evening)

We had dips every day in our pool, with ice creams and bubbles or beers as we relaxed and chatted in the afternoon sun.  We had short, local walks and foraged lazily for plums, blackberries and greengages that were later consumed or baked into yummy cakes.  We lazed in hammocks or dipped our feet in the pool, reading and relaxing.  Later, after an alfresco dinner, we sat outside watching the moon rise over our garden as the sun slowly disappeared behind our boundary trees.  Once suitably dark, we presented a surprise, home-baked birthday cake, made with freshly picked blackberries and replete with candles, to mummy Margaret. The candles, once lit, became dancing sparklers that stubbornly refused to be extinguished despite multiple, breathless efforts from the laughing, excited Birthday girl.

LaJourdanie - (bubbles arrive)

LaJourdanie - (girls in pool)

LaJourdanie - (time for snails)

For lunch one day, as a mini-treat and a new experience, we offered a serving of the very French dish of roasted snails.  The plate served up was not the treat Nicky remembered from her previous work visits to Paris.   These snails were not as tender, instead were more like garlic-flavoured chewing gum.  We chewed them valiantly, but the gastronomic results were definitely not worth the jaw-straining exertion; they would not be remembered as one of our finer kitchen moments.  We spent the afternoon in the pool, staying cool and being silly. We have an inflatable wallaby, called Wally, a legacy from the trip to Australia where we initially caught the campervan bug.  This naughty wallaby liked to hitch a ride on Margaret’s head as she swam along.  We’re not too sure what she thought of it all.

LaJourdanie - (pool play)

LaJourdanie - (Wheres Wally)

One cloudless day we planned a Brantôme trip, an historic town about 40 minutes away.  This was a repeat stop for us, as we had visited prior to returning home a few months before.  The central aire, solely for motorhomes, was the best option for the busy town and charged only €1 for five hours, perfect for a day visit.  Even out of peak season the aire was busy, more than half its eighty spaces filled with visitors.  We walked through the park and into the central canals, pausing to watch enthusiastic kayakers balance then slide over nearly-dry weirs with difficulty.  We explored the tiny medieval streets and busy shops, the artist studios, farmers’ market stalls and troglodyte caves, before returning along the river to the peaceful surroundings of the aire enjoying our picnic lunch with a lovely cup of tea.

Brantome - (by the abbey)

 

Brantome - (lazy lunch)

We had planned two special dinners, with two groups of neighbours, for during Margaret’s visit.  The first was a fully French occasion, with Lionel and Isobel and their three year-old son, Laundrie.  Margaret had previously lived in France for several years and could chat and tell her stories to our guests, making the evening fully inclusive.  We cooked roast duck and all the trimmings whilst Laundrie happily scoffed, between bouts on his mini-tractor, all the honey-roast carrots and ice cream we had.  The second event was more cosmopolitan, featuring English, Welsh and German neighbours.  This time we served lamb with copious amounts of veg and wine, and everything was a louder, more raucous affair.  Both nights were deemed a success, although the stress of hosting and cooking certainly took its toll.

Espace Hermeline - swim lake

 

LaJourdanie - (patio drinks)

One quiet morning we had a visit to Bussière-Galant to check out the swim lake at Espace Hermeline.  We parked up as one of only three visitors, to find the building all shut up and the usual ‘Baignade Interdite’ signs in place.  We walked a loop of the lake on easy forest trails, passing one lonely fisherman, taking in the tree-top activity courses and the long zip-line scooting out over the water.  On returning to Benny we decided to ignore the signs and have ourselves a swim dip.  The water was about 23 degrees, comfortable and clear, and we all enjoyed swimming a few lengths parallel to the beach.  Heading home, we stopped at a large brocante store for a browse, marvelling at the worthless junk that others pay fortunes for, before buying some French novels that were priced by the kilogram.

LaJourdanie - (evening dinner)

LaJourdanie - (pool time)

It was a wonderful week of light adventure, walks and socialising.  We swam and walked, explored and foraged, turning local wild fruits into cakes to share with the neighbours.  We cooked huge slabs of duck and lamb for the first time and enjoyed serving them to the neighbours who had welcomed us to the hamlet.  We visited historic towns and local swim spots and tried snails for the first, and likely last, time.  We bought books by weight, chatted to curious cows in bright meadows, sat on the edge and cooled our feet in the pool as we enjoyed a drink.  All were varied aspects of an easy, fulfilling life of casual leisure; time well-spent, company well met, simple pleasures well earned.

A&N x

France – Pageas and our new French home

Leaving Séreilhac we had only a few miles to travel to reach our destination.  We met the sellers, Pat and Julia, again on Monday morning to take final meter readings and inspect that all has been left as contractually required.  We had a brief master-class in how to look after the pool, hoping we have understood, alongside gaining knowledge about other more familiar aspects of how the house works.  Then we drove to the Notaire and revisited the purchase agreement, signed up and were handed the keys.

It is real.  It is ours.

Our House - (Nicky in pool)

Our House - (breakfast on terrace)

Since then, we’ve been settling into our new French home for about a month.  We are loving it, but there are so many things we want to do, to sort out, to tidy up, to change, to fix, that we need to stop ourselves occasionally and take time to smell the roses.  Each day, from waking at 8am to dinner at 8pm, we work.  We scrub the floors, the kitchen units, the fridge, the walls.  We cut hedges and bamboo and trees.  We build a compost heap to corral all the cuttings in one place.  We clear moss and ivy off old stonework.  We clean out the sheds and ready them for new concrete floors.  We remove all pots, balls, old tiles, bits of metal and discarded tools that litter the site to one busy corner, leaving an area of our garden looking like an abandoned brocante store.  We end our days grubby, tired and contented.

Our House - (Trimming the roses)

Our House - (clearing wisteria)

We replace or renew window handles.  We trim over-zealous plants to regain a semblance of control.  We scrape peeling paint and varnish off sun-bleached doors.  We remove nails and screws and hooks from walls, refiling then sanding down in preparation for upcoming re-painting.  We call all utilities and set up our accounts.  We organise to have TV and internet installed, eventually.  Our hands and arms are speckled with petty cuts and bruises from the fights we’ve had with the garden.  We unpack boxes and decide where our things should be, them looking meagre now in such large spaces.  We pot up lettuce and herbs, to hopefully be ready in a month’s time.  In the glaring heat of each day we sweat and toil, but reward ourselves with dips in our wonderfully refreshing pool at key strategic intervals.

Our House - (cottage lounge)

Our House - (barnside lounge)

We make lists and tick off jobs as we complete them, satisfyingly.  Every third day or so we drive to the outskirts of Limoges with long lists of required items, buying shears and secateurs, gardening gloves, a wheelbarrow, tins of paint, rollers and brushes, wood-stain, furniture pieces, French plugs and adaptors, kitchen cooking items, lights bulbs, large bins, extension cables, pool treatment chemicals, curtain poles, plant seeds, and all the rest.  All the things that we have not had to think about for the previous two years as we doodled around, unencumbered, in Benny.  But mostly we love it, and keep staring, amazed, that this is our space, our garden, our pool, our land.  Our home.  Each night we go to bed exhausted but happy, tired from our efforts but happy in our choices and progress.

Our House - (Benny on driveway)

Our House - (removing walls)

One afternoon we cycled to the nearby town of Pageas to visit the Mairie.  We registered that we had moved in and had many questions answered by the helpful secretary.  We registered our bin delivery (each bin is bar-coded and is weighed and charged per kg of waste) and signed up for a déchetterie card, allowing us to begin removing the discarded items we’ve uncovered.  We cycled one Thursday to Champsac to meet the local Brits at a pub night; a necessary introduction, but not something we wish to make a habit of.  We have run a few of the local paths and chemins, slowly finding our way around the local lands, excited by the variation and ease of off-road trails.  We have immediate access to some lovely running routes straight from the house, although it’s been too hot to go far.

Our House - (from the bottom of garden)

Our House - (cutting the paddock)

We’ve met many of the neighbours, getting rather drunk with them on far too many occasions, considering the short time we’ve been here.  Everyone has been fantastic, helpful and very welcoming.  The house has been measured and drawn up, in anticipation of sorting out semi-major renovations to both bathrooms and the addition of a pool surround.  The future addition of a balcony to our master suite has been sized up, designed and the only remaining item to source is the preferred guarding.  One of our small stone outbuildings has been ear-marked as a potential writing den and hideaway, once it has been tidied up and re-roofed.  One guest bedroom has been fully completed, taking three or four coats to sharpen up, after weeks of filling and sanding and rubbing.  All is going very, very well.

Our House - (weeding the garden)

Our House - (view from balcony)

When we look at what we’ve achieved already, against the time we’ve been here, we are quite amazed.  Our hands are cut and sore, we have a multitude of bites and scrapes, but already a basketful of great memories.  But we are still impatient for more, as we can clearly see the full potential of our home and wish it to be completed.  Orchards, wild meadows, a full vegetable patch, walls rebuilt, a secret garden area for the evening sun – we have plenty to keep us busy.  We are also looking at upcoming trips in Benny, keen for a short break and a new adventure in the Pyrenees or Spain.  Or the Italian Dolomites.  Or Corsica. We shall see how the fancy takes us, as whilst we love spending time in our new house, we do also miss the easy freedom of the open road.

But we have nothing but time.

A&N x

France House-sit – Vanxains, near Riberac (Part 3)

Visits to Lacapelle-Biron and Cazeneuve

The long sun-drenched days in Vanxains simply glided by, our hours filled with nothing substantial but brimmed with relaxation and rest.  We rewarded every two hours of strenuous physical effort, either running, walking, swimming or cycling, with double that of lazy sitting or lying in the garden, reading and watching the burning sun slowly drift across the sky.  It’s a great balance for us, the daily exercise and the deliberate rest, and this easy luxury of filling our time exactly as we wish has a wonderfully cathartic effect.  The hours and days of the week have constricted in their use to hold little meaning to us, as we now live solely on the timescales of the rising and setting of the sun, and of the changing seasons.

Villereal - (Covered market)

Villereal - (Church)

Nicky has an old university friend with a holiday home in Lacapelle-Biron, near to Monpazier, and we organised a visit for when they were in-country.  After a brief stop in Bergerac on the way, we enjoyed a flying visit to the bastide town of Villeréal, where we walked the historic streets, taking in the elaborate timber marketplace and tall stone church.  Not long after, we arrived at Mandy and Simon’s villa, where we were soon splashing in their pool, sipping beers and swapping stories, all generously accompanied by birdsong and afternoon rays.  We later retired to their patio for dinner and wine, eating and chatting long into the night, punctuated with earnest discussions on what music to play next.  The following morning we ate a tasty late breakfast outside under the shade of a wisteria-covered pergola.  We were, surprisingly and gladly, experiencing only the dull hint of the fully-expected hangover.

Lacapelle - (Mandy & Nicky)

Lacapelle - (Mandy & Simon)

We said our goodbyes as we had another lunch date with Ken & Monica in Cazeneuve, which was spent relaxing by their pool, complete with much more chatting and eating.  It was fascinating for us to see Cazeneuve blossoming into summer, such a different appearance from before.  Every vista was now green, lush and fruitful, more opaque with dense foliage than the skinny, dormant mud-browns of the winter months we had recently spent there; it was transformed.  Monica & Ken were expecting the arrival of an Australian couple later that afternoon, their guests under Home Exchange, a scheme that we hope to utilise in future years with our new French home, opening up more travel options further afield.  We thanked them for lunch and left them to prepare for their far-flung visitors.

Cazeneuve - Poolside dining

Cazeneuve - Poolside lunch

One damp Monday morning, we decided to drive to the nearby market town of Chalais.  We had been informed it was one of the most worthwhile local markets to visit, but on a dull, grey day under the constant threat of rain it seemed rather small and basic.  Perhaps this was because the scattering of stalls were widely spaced out along many streets, rather than clustered together in a central location, and the day’s meagre crowds didn’t stretch wide enough to offer a hearty noise or an interesting buzz.  Or perhaps we had so recently been spoiled by the large markets in Issigeac and Ribérac that we were anticipating more, our personal expectations raised and dashed through no fault of Chalais.  We walked up a steep hill to look at the local château before disappearing back through the wet streets.

Chalais Market (town streets)

Vanxains - flood defenses

Another day we visited the village of Saint-Aulaye, where we squeezed through a tight timber gate to access the ample parking before undertaking a self-guided walking tour of the village’s Roman highlights.  We kept up our schedule of long countryside runs and quiet evening walks, punctuated with lots of down-time, disguised in our minds as ‘recovery’.  We enjoyed several more swims and runs around Jemaye lake, further training sessions for our upcoming SwimRun event.   On several occasions we experienced serious thunderstorms and minor flooding at the house, interspersed with momentary losses of electricity.  Once these storms broke, we were usually treated to wide-reaching and spectacularly deep sunsets across the expansive valley, all visible from the bottom of the garden.

Vanxains - Lazy cats

Vanxains - (Garden sunsets)

On our last Friday we cycled a beautiful cross-country route vaguely northwards, on chalky paths and tiny roads, their grassy centre-line a testament to the lack of use.  We struck out a winding route into the west of Ribérac, dropping down into the edge of town via a fantastic descent through wheat fields on a stony path.  We weaved through the neat suburbs before we again joined the crowds at the weekly market.  The conversational buzz and bright colours of the busy centre were striking in contrast to just moments before, where only the muted colours and tweeting noises of the countryside existed.  We parked up and walked a loop, enjoying the contrast with the green silence. After exhausting the market stalls, we had a quick stop at the Hôtel de Ville before cycling out of town.

Riberac - busy market

Riberac - hotel de ville

We returned home by a new route, finding a quiet stretch of road alongside a small trickle of a river, it passing through woodland filled with the bending trunks of tall, graceful trees.  The route was a continuous ribbon of green rolling hills, each crest offering far-reaching views of the surrounding lands, made up of expansive hectares of manicured fields with only a light scattering of stone houses and outbuildings visible.  The fields were planted with barley, sweetcorn and sunflowers, still small and green, but ensuring the vista would evolve yet again, to be resplendent with brilliant yellows in the months to come.  Legs tingling from our efforts, we settled back into our lazy garden life, soaking up the sun in the close company of cats, again feeling like the ones who got the crème.

Vanxains - Last night sunset

Vanxains - Last night reflections

We spent a large part of the day readying for leaving – we packed up all non-essentials, tidied up the house and, under a scorching sun, completed a last cut of the fast-growing garden.  With everything in good shape, we decided to make a little micro-adventure for ourselves after dinner.  We took our camping chairs and a bottle of single malt with us and walked up a local grassy chemin to a nearby hillside, where we took up temporary residence on a gravel plateau to enjoy the setting of the sun over the lush valley.  We settled in, each poured ourselves a glass and sipped in silence as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon, just like the fun-filled days and weeks we’ve spent here have now vanished into the past.  Here was the end of another, very different but equally wonderful, house-sit, and we felt so fortunate to have been offered the opportunity to spend such quality time in these peaceful surroundings.

A&N x

 

France House-sit – Vanxains, near Riberac (Part 2)

Our days have continued to pass much as they have done for much of this house-sit to date; filled with short bursts of frantic activity framed with large doses of lazy sun-worshipping.  Or, when rains arrived, and they really arrived, catching up on missed TV shows, movies or books, whilst marvelling at the tropical-like deluges ripping up outside our windows.  It’s been a varied and interesting stay to date, a fine mix of activity, exploration, reading and rest.

Aubeterre - riverside

Aubeterre -rooftop view

One fine day we decided to cycle to a nearby beaux village of Aubeterre-sur-Dronne – 14km of hilly cross-country with a few off-road stretches on dusty, chalk paths that reminded us of the South Downs Way in England.  Avoiding all main roads, we soon reached a campsite on the outskirts of the town and stopped in to admire their public swim beach on the river; it looked like a nice aire to visit should we be back here in future days.  From there we followed a steep cut-back uphill, passing the entrance to cliff-face caves, to reach the beautiful, shady main square.  We locked up our bikes and walked around the pretty centre, through steep, narrow streets, visiting the dominant stone church before buying a baguette back at the main square for lunch. We sat a while and people-watched in the glorious sun.

Aubeterre - central square

Aubeterre - people watching

Another day we cycled the 16km to Bertric-Burée, with the intent of attending an advertised Snail Festival.  We crossed the calmly flowing river Dronne at Épeluche, sticking to rural back routes and quiet gravel trails on the way.  It was a beautiful cycle, but it turned out we chose the wrong day; the three day local festival had a different focus each day, and the snail stalls would only appear on the Monday, not the Saturday.  Even then, the festival began after lunch, 2pm, so there was nothing open when we arrived – zut alors! Still, it had been worth a look and the car-free roads offered some fantastic cross-country cycling.  We considered a return in two days, but that weekend turned out to be scorching hot, so instead we spent it vegging in the garden, slowly pottering with the blooming plants.

Vanxains - arriving home

Vanxains - garden chilling

Another day we went for an 11km countryside run in the early morning, but it was still not quite early enough.  The day was not yet 9am but already a blistering 25 degrees, and had not a breath of wind.  We ran along many beautiful tracks and passed through a few sleepy stone villages, but we were both a hot, sweaty mess when we got finally got back home. We had a quick, cold shower then headed straight over into our neighbours’ pool, where the cool water sizzled from the heat of our skin.  It was such a refreshing feeling to cool off properly after some good work in the repressive heat, and made us glad that our recently purchased house comes with a pool.  The following day, in deep contrast, we spent a very rainy afternoon mooching inside, and got our UK tax returns and other paperwork sorted.

Vanxains - Table tennis

Vanxains - Iris and sunset

Vanxains - Terrace breakfasts

Returning from one walk, we popped in to see neighbours Judith and Pierre, and invite them to apéro later in the week.  We agreed that the coming Saturday was best.  They arrived shortly after the agreed 6pm and we spent a happy hour and a half chatting with them, half in French, half in English.  We drank lots of wine and nibbled at the bruschetta and other savoury snacks we prepared.  We had no experience of what apéro should be like or what their expectations may be, this being our first with actual French neighbours, but we seemed not to have offended too greatly.  We mentioned we had spotted a table tennis table in their garden, and Pierre said that it had sat unused for five years, so we could borrow it.  We jumped at the offer, and he delivered it to us the next morning – excellent!

Vanxains - countryside wlk

Vanxains - long walk

We continued with more swim-run training sessions at the Lake Jemaye, returning several times to enjoy long swims or short bursts combined with various transitions and runs.  We rarely saw others there, other than a few staff members tasked with woodland maintenance or beach clean-up.  Even after bouts of heavy rain, the lake water remained comfortably warm and we revelled in the solitude, in contrast to what we imagine the short, hectic summer months must be like in such well-provisioned place.  On one occasion we arrived on a French Bank holiday and had a taste of what it must be like in summer, the place brimming with motorhomes and cars, with large tables laden with food and wine everywhere, everyone enjoying the sunshine.  We were still the only swimmers though.

Vanxains - cycle selfie

Vanxains - off-road cycles

We took long day walks in scorching heat, exploring the nearby hills and woodlands.  We played games of table tennis nearly every day, although in all the time there I took only one game off my annoyingly talented wife.  We continued to dabble in necessary gardening, although the lawn had recently developed a spiky infestation that had suddenly made areas of the garden extremely treacherous to bare feet.  We initially suspected it was a kind of invasive knotweed, but later discovered it was self-seeding bamboo. We enjoyed wonderful, red-bursting sunsets almost every night from the west-facing garden, settling into little rituals that gave a semblance of structure to our easy existence.  We had a forged a slow, humble life, free from encumbrances, filled with exercise, outdoor-living and simple pleasures.

A&N x

France House-sit – Vanxains, near Riberac (Part 1)

When we originally organised this house-sit, we thought it would offer an ideal base for house-hunting, but with that now ticked off, we would have little to do but relax and, hopefully, enjoy weeks of pleasant sunshine.  We now hoped to spend quality time at the nearby Grand Etang La Jemaye and called in on our way up from Saurzac.  It had an excellent set-up, with dedicated motorhome parking and a beachfront restaurant, but weirdly the entire lake edge was lined with “baignore interdit” signs.  We asked and were told to ignore them if we wanted to swim, it would simply be at our own risk, so all good.  We soon arrived at Vanxains, met up with Eric again, and had a lovely dinner with him and his partner Lorraine.  We were introduced to their friendly French neighbours Pierre & Judith, charged with being our local assistance should we have any issues during our stay.  It would be a very pleasant spot for us to spend our next six weeks.

Vanxains - (rear garden)

We had two cats to look after, Rosie & Sweep, but they seemed to be no trouble at all, just coming and going as they pleased.  Eric’s house was up for sale, and in our first two days we had three separate house viewings – the first two led by agents and one unexpected later in which we led the viewers, a couple from Leicester, around the property selling it to them as if it was our own.  We had a flying visit from Monica and Ken, from our previous house-sit in Cazeneuve, for lunch and a chatty catch-up.  They had ridden up to visit us on their motorcycles, enjoying the winding country roads and dry, sunny weather.  On our third day here we had to drive north into Limousin, to the village of Piégut-Pluviers to visit the notaire and sign the compromis de vente for our new house.  We met the sellers, fellow Brits Julia and Paddy, beforehand in the small market square and we all arrived together, to run through all the details of the sale contract.

Vanxains - (Visit from Monica and Ken)

Vanxains - (relaxing out back)

After a busy few days, it was time to properly relax, at least how we like to.  We cycled 10km on small, empty roads and cut-up muddy tracks to reach La Jemaye, and even on this lovely sunny day there were only five cars on site, their huge parking areas mostly empty.  We cycled a full loop of the lake first, around 7km, then on our second lap we found a quiet spot on the bank to stash our bikes, quickly changed and enjoyed a wonderfully welcome lake swim.  The water was much warmer than we were expecting, a real bonus this early in the season, and we were so excited about having this facility as a local venue.  We had a few short, exploratory runs into the local village of Vanxains, and discovered a lovely, if hilly, 8km route around the local roads.  This became a staple for us; we walked and ran it many times in both directions, with occasional variations.  Being static for six weeks definitely has its advantages.

Vanxains - (Lake Jermaye cycle)

Vanxains - (ready to swim)

It was Nicky’s birthday during our first week in the house, and as part of our celebrations she chose to return to the lake, this time driving down to continue our training for our upcoming Swim-Run event in June.  We found there were lots of well-kitted fishermen setting up for the day, like there was a competition on, so it was complicated to find a spot to enter the water without disturbing others.  We ran around the edge of the lake from the motorhome parking to a quiet bank at a smaller lake, swam around 200m in reed-lined tranquillity, then climbed out the opposite bank and ran on. A few kilometres later we found another suitable place to swim, completed a shorter 150m swim, then got back to running.  It was for us a chance to get used to the transition, and to swimming with trainers on and then running in wet gear.  It felt good, much more comfortable than expected and we loved the easy switch of emphasis from using legs to using arms.

Vanxains - (apero with neighbours)

One evening our intensive post-exercise sun-bathing was interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.  Our British neighbours Liz and Graham had called to offer us an invitation to apéro at theirs, pre-dinner drinks, and we soon tidied ourselves up and obliged.  We were given a short tour of their beautifully converted barn holiday-home, complete with spectacular views from the covered first floor terrace, then we sat in their garden in the evening sun, answering questions all about our travels as we got slowly toasted.  It was wonderful to meet them.  Other days, between long countryside walks, runs and cycles, we pottered around in Eric’s garden, grass cutting, clearing out the garden sheds to make then more usable and manageable and generally keeping everything tidy.  It was such a peaceful location, set at the end of a long lane, not overlooked, and we loved to chill with a glass, admiring the garden and the view.

Vanxains - (country walks)

Vanxains - (relaxing on terrace)

The first Friday of our stay we ventured into Ribérac, as this was when the celebrated regional market was held.  We parked on the outskirts in a Lidl car-park and walked the last few hundred metres to the centre, to find a huge arrangement of stalls, and a loud, buzzing atmosphere of noise and colour.  We wandered liberally, ultimately buying only a few vegetables but marvelling at the wide choice of items available; tomatoes to tambourines, wardrobes to watermelons.  Sunning ourselves on our terrace later we sat much too long in the sun and I received my first sunburn of the year – such a basic, schoolboy error for one used to living with such pale, useless skin.  We vowed to be more careful, as we still had so many places to see and grand plans for other day trips to come, and the sun would play a large part in all of these adventures.   (Part 2 to follow…)

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