puzzled? click here . . .

PUZZLED?  CLICK HERE explains the rationale of this blog. Further down, after the waffle on this page there are simple instructions on how to get about the various postings and waste even more of your time . . .

WE'VE BEEN COMING TO FRANCE for more than thirty years, Mary, longer than that. We know some of it very well, a lot of it slightly, and a load more not really as yet. We used to rely on our memories and an archive of transparencies to keep tabs of what we saw, where we went, where we stayed etc. After mostly finishing with the business of earning salaries, wages, and having dispensed with camping en route to and from the holiday houses we rented, we now prefer to have our own base down in the Vaucluse; we have more time out here and can have a bit of fun recording the odd and not-so-odd things we do/see/experience hereabouts. Digitally.

Mary started a blog when we were looking to buy in France, kept it up, has now got me at it: she clearly enjoys making a report on what we get up to, admittedly sometimes spitting tacks over it, and each trip out declaring that this blog would be the last . . . so with her guidance, advice and shoving – here it is; make of it what you will!

Of course, whilst both wife and son-and-heir have a full and comprehensive grasp of the language, not to mention a deep and constantly expanding engagement with all things french, your correspondent remains somewhat puzzled and confused.

So that's my angle really, I mean, where the hell are we, and what the devil is going on? Why are they doing that?  Who built this and when? What is the point of that?
In fact, driving on the right.

The posts are listed on the right, see,  the latest first.
The number by the month indicates how many posts for that month and their titles will show if you click on the name of the month. You will soon get the knack.
Click on images to get them up bigger. Or pass over them and click on the appropiate flickr link if one has been provided.

I like driving on the right. We like it. Seems natural. Like France. It's different. Surprising, pleasing, and sometimes utterly harebrained— all exaggerated, confused, coloured for me by my lack of a grasp of the language. Disgraceful. I lean heavily in all matters negotiable upon my good woman who handles all these issues with consummate ease. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here at all.

And don't tell me I will pick it up in time, damn it. I haven't and it's too late now, it won't happen (I blame my school). Which is why this blog is in English! I voted to remain by the way . . . seems that was the kiss of death!