Category: collisions

There is a slight freshness to the morning here in vieille Aix. I am sat on our terrace watching a builder opposite do his preparations for the day on some scaffolding. I’m going to call him Jean Pierre but he will not feature further in this post so it doesn’t really matter.

V pleasant evening. I had a couple of sherberts around the corner in O’Sullivans whilst THG went for a stroll and did the sights on behalf of the two of us. WHilst she was away I discovered that Aix en Provence’s top rate curry house was just around the corner and it was to Le Maharaja we went.

The Maharaja was fairly empty at seven fifteen but the good sign was that the other occupied tables were populated with people of clearly sub-continental heritage. I had a simple lamb madras with pilau rice, a plain naan and a bottle of kingfisher.

We were early heading back to the hotel but were content with the prospect of a couple of cans of Punk IPA from Monoprix whilst sat on the terrace outside our room. Only had one of them before dozing off.

Looks like they are rerendering the facade opposite. You can tell where they have already done it and slapped on some yellow paint in keeping with the style of the old town.

Right, off to breakfast. I have a conf call at oh nine thirty.

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Breakfast wasn’t much cop btw. The receptionist took the oomph when I asked her for a cereal bowl for breakfast. All they had out were tiny ones for putting jam in. She brought three out! One for me, one for an American woman who had been standing around wondering how to go about getting a bowl and one other in case anyone else was daft enough to want one.

When I tried filling the milk jug with hot milk from the machine it wouldn’t fit under the dispenser so most of the milk went all over the place. Huh.

Cassis this morning. It is a forty nine minute drive. An hour if we go the long way around. Will be nice to get there and be able to chill for a bit. I’ve booked a parking space at the back of the hotel. Hopefully will be ok. They don’t have many spots and I’m not that confident in the hotel booking system. When I booked, sometime last winter, the hotel was closed and the response times weren’t world class. The English version of the booking system didn’t seem to have what I needed to book the parking slot.

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This is a pretty basic room but the hotel is in position A in Cassis. The balcony is just big enough for one person. There seem to be fewer people out than earlier when they all poured into the port for lunch. Probably all home sleeping off lunch before starting again this evening. Makes sense to wait for the heat of the day to subside before a night out.

9 am Wednesday. Sat in the big field in the locality of Bodeuan. It genuinely is called Big Field. Well actually Cae Mawr. Same thing. I’m surrounded by caravans. Not totes my thing. I am in a tent. I do have an electric hookup which is powering the coolbox, and now my phone. 

It will in time power the teppanyaki grill when it comes to breakfast. However I am in no hurry for this. I am slightly annoyed that I forgot to bring matches so will have to pop up to the pop-up shop to source some. Either that or rely on the generosity of nearby caravaners, some of who have already started cooking.

I only need the gas ring to boil the kettle and in reality could do without if it comes to the crunch. I have plenty of cold milk which is my breakfast tipple of choice when cooking a fry up.

I sense that three nights in the tent will be enough. It’s a three man tent but really just right for one person. The toilet facilities are pretty basic. Portaloos you find at festivals. Not surprising really. The Eisteddfod is a festival.

Yesterday afternoon I sat in the Babell Len for a while. They have poetry competitions running all week. Englynion. Pretty amazing fair play. I sat there with a big smile on my face.I don’t often get to immerse myself in the Welsh language and mine could do with a lot of improvement having lived outside Wales for most of my life. I mentioned to Nest that I struggled to follow some of it and was to some extent relieved when she said she did too.

This afternoon is the Bangor University reunion session. When I say session I really mean session. Whilst the official timing is 2pm to 3.30 the drinking carries on until close of play apaz. Suspect I won’t stay the pace. We shall see.

More anon. Breakfast to cook.

Sunday morning and the rain has stopped. Looking out into the garden it feels as if the new grass has shot up significantly over the last couple of days. I’ll pop out to inspect the onions in a bit and feel confident of similar progress. Today should be dry but back to normal British summer weather tomorrow.

Had a surprise birthday party for the Head Gardener yesterday round the corner at Eve and Steve’s. THG thought it was a coronation party but that was just the front. Was a wet old afternoon but Steve’s double sized gazebo came in very handy. A good time was had – thanks to our excellent hosts.

It being the sabbath the morning will be spent avoiding work of any kind. I don’t think I could stand being excommunicated if I was found to have broken the law. The shame of it. I sense that time spent in quiet contemplation and introspection would be appropriate. Some focus on my own spirituality. Maybs.

The blackbirds are out hunter-gathering. Plenty of worms in that lawn. Mostly males so I imagine the ladies are sitting on their nests. Were I to take the lid off the compost bin the blackbirds would have a feast. Lots of worm and insect activity turning the waste into fine compost. I prefer to leave this worms to their excellent work.

Strawberries are fruiting, or at least in full flower. The grape vine is coming into leaf. All is well.

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Sunday Sunday, feels good to me.

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Stan Getz, Girl from Ipanema. Went to Brazil decades ago. I’d visit the Amazon but otherwise feel no compulsion to return.

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Halfway through the weekend. Interesting to observe how the BBC toes the royalist line. All wine and roses in the kingdom. The succession reassured.

Alternative guide to coronation day. How to make the most out of Coronation Day. Have a good breakfast then go and play golf. Do not under any circumstances turn on the telly or the wireless set. If you end up in a pub after golf try to make it one that doesn’t have a TV (I realise this will be a hard one to get your brain around if you are from Amurica). Get home around tea time and fire up the barbie.

Up and at an early start to the day, largely occasioned by the arrival of three electricians at eight am. Avin some work done, largely to finish off the cabling to the shed. Calming classics courtesy of Spotify soothing my furrowed brow.

The brow isn’t particularly furrowed mind you although yesterday’s trip to Clearview opticians has made me ever conscious of the size of the onscreen text. I’ve zoomed in on the page this morning to artificially increase the font size.

Although I only have one call in my diary I do appear to have quite a bit of stuff to do. Once I get going I’ll be able to rattle it off quite quickly. It’s just the getting going bit that sometimes takes an effort.

Got the onions and shallots in yesterday. Still a few onion sets left but most are down. My onion crops have been moderately successful although once harvested they are quickly consumed, or pickled. Amazing how many onions you get through. An essential part of most recipes one way or another. Not desserts obvs. I made four batches of pickled onions last year. Will take me years to get through them all. After the first lot I used shop bought onions and shallots. Home pickled onions are miles better than the mass produced branded stuff, if for nothing else than I add chillies to the vinegar in mine.

Great night out at the Funky Biscuit last night. Marcia Ball gig. Marcia is 73 years old. The average age of her audience also looked about 73. In consequence they were a fairly inanimate bunch although there was plenty of clapping after each song.

The FB was an hour’s Uber away. Seems a normal kind of journey in the USA where distances are so large and people think nothing of hopping on a plane for 5 hours. In Lincoln I rarely make it as far as Nottingham because it’s an hour’s journey.

Quite fancy strolling out somewhere for brunch. Question is where. Ordinarily I have breakfast in the hotel but the Hilton deal these days in the USA is not as good as it used to be. Nowadays you get a “food and beverage allowance” of $15 a day per room. Doesn’t go far when you consider yesterday’s breakfast for two was knocking on $80 inc tip and it isn’t as if we went over the top. An expensive place to visit is the US.

As a result it doesn’t really matter where you  eat, assuming time is on your side. The question then is where? I am travelling with our US Sales Director Charles but there is no sign of him yet this morning! Might just head down as I’m now quite hungry. Didn’t have dinner last night!

Ciao.

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Now chillin poolside. Only three others here. Could be something to do with the unusually cold weather I suppose although the skies are clear blue. An azure sea is visible in the gap between the Ritz Plaza and the Delano hotels. Ocean really not sea.

It’s one of those days for total relaxation. Would help to be a few degrees warmer but it doesn’t really matter. The pool itself is warm albeit quite shallow. It’s an infiniti pool and as such designed for wallowing as opposed to exercise.

I find that life continues to be surreal. Yesterday we had lunch in a supercool joint called Ship Wreck down a Key Largo side street. Couldn’t really call it a street. It was a road that took you to one of many inlets in the area. We actually looked for downtown Key Largo only to find there wasn’t one. Bit disappointing. Gave up after a while, when every road we turned down was a dead end. Got a couple of t shirts. 

The pool is attracting some rather large people. Four beer toting bearded  ‘good old boys’ wandered in, sat awhile and wandered out again. One of them had a baseball cap with a gun emblazoned on the front.

Aircraft pass by overhead. No sign of British Airways as yet but it is twirly man. A midday arrival here would mean a 7am takeoff from London. Our return flight is not until 21.30 on Wednesday. Figured we would get some dinner and a few sherberts before flying out and that time departure means I will hopefully get a decent kip on the plane.

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Ordered chips at a bar. Waitress asked if I meant fries.

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I daresay most of you will only devote a contemptuous millisecond to my anguish at 5am this morning when I glanced at my bedside alarm clock and noted the time. Anguish doesn’t really properly reflect today’s early morning emotions. All I did was clock the time and conduct a very short lived debate with myself regarding whether I should get up and head downstairs to do something useful or sit it out (lie it out) and assume that I would get back to sleep until the display showed a more sensible time for a Saturday morning.

The debate didn’t really involve me presenting two arguments and weighing one up against the other. I was simply thinking that it was early, it was bloody cold out and the heating wasn’t due to come on for ages yet and I was very cosy in bed. Although each incident in the debate was very short lived I know it went on, and off, for a good thirty minutes because the last time I remember seeing was five thirty.

The next time I looked the clock said six thirty and I knew that staying in bed had been the right decision. At six forty five I got up, went downstairs to make the tea and was safely back in bed by five to seven.

Now up I have breakfasted well on ham, eggs, tomaytoes and mushrooms washed down with a couple of mugs of char. Mixing my vernacular there but this is allowed. Good phrase that: to mix the vernacular. Truth is to call bacon ham is only borderline vernacular and entirely dependent on your viewpoint. Also tomaytoes is merely adding an accent to tomahtoes that suggests the author is either well travelled or watches too much junk TV. I’ll leave that to you to decide. Both could apply.