driving on the right: autumnal not so jolly

WHAT WAS PUBLICISED as our usual autumn jolly does not quite pan out that way. You see, 1rueFB has been put up for sale.

Unlikely as it might seem, a Parisian pair who were all for it and signed the compromis even, suddenly got cold feet during the cooling off period and withdrew at the eleventh hour. There are some suspicions as to why they did this: something to do with a parent of one of them not liking something or other . . . possibly the CEO of the bank of mum and dad? Hmmm: we’ll leave it there shall we . . . it was also complicated by these Parisians just having to be away for four months in one of the 'Stans…… as you do when house hunting. Can’t say we were all that fussed about drawing stumps with these '12 year olds’ from France’s capital. The experience lends credence to the general belief around ’84 that Parisians are a bit shit to those in the provinces and are seemingly from another planet, mostly. Sweeping I guess, but I can go with it a bit more readily in the light of the experience.

Our trusty Estate Agent (oxymoron usually I know – but in the case of Andrew we feel well supported in this endeavour and even after blanching at the fee he will charge for seeing us through this process: it costs in France, he is competitive and very much on the ball) … our trusty Est A. quickly finds us new buyers and gets a new compromis fixed for us to be present at, in person this time rather than down the line, as it were. These folk seem much more attuned to Sablet and its environs, are closer to us in age, are realistic, want to actually live in 1rueFB bless them, etc etc. The compromis or whatever they call it rolls through down at the notaire’s slick office space, the cooling off period ticks over and runs out without backword and we know it is now happening.

We begin the painful process of sorting out into five metaphorical piles:
A] stuff we simply have to keep and take back to Bullsmead Towers (limited and conditioned by the practicality of getting such clobber back there in the motor);
B] stuff we might expect friends and neighbours would like, might buy: stuff we can ‘gift’ to such associates that is;
C] stuff no one is likely to want let alone buy, but has value of some sort. We arrange for this stuff to be collected for recycling or take it ourselves to a recycling hub adjacent to the local déchèterie.
D] stuff that has collected over the 14 years (mostly in the garage) but we have not used or found a use for. This last has to go to the déchèterie. You can add in here unwanted clothes and shoes, going off to the clothes depository located for some reason behind the Mairie.

E] The Table. Ah. The Table. Our pride and joy. No one wants a table, everybody already has one. Especially the buyers. But this is a beautiful table. Made to 1st class honours degree standards. No-one (to date) will buy it for more than €100. If you have sat at it you will know of its provenance and quality of finish. It is a crime to even try and place a value on such a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.

We contemplate getting this work of art in oak transported back to Bullsmead… not remotely economic or financially practicable. It weighs at least three Olympic swimming pools and needs two strong men without damaged backs to move it. It only comes into two pieces. It needs a vehicle with at least a load dimension of two plus metres long to get it on board. Doesn’t sound a lot I know. After all it got to 1rueFB, back when, on a trailer behind a small white van. But it did require muscle to bring the thing into the kitchen where it rests where they put it down, just inside the house double doors, to this day. The clock is ticking though. Oh my oh my . . .

This issue is not resolved. When it is I dare say I will say more. Completion may be only a week or four away.

Our former neighbours from up the Montée de la Grand Font, Barbara et Pascal, whose relocation to near St Etienne caused us considerable regret, showed up by chance (they live miles and miles away now) and took refreshment with us at The Table. They sympathised. They also reassured us that Minouchette the local cat of 1rueFb and Sablet, which they adopted, is fit and well and rarely gives us a moment’s thought.

We made time to visit the Three Pines of Durban on a walk up that hill, and on another day a pilgrimage up to St Hilaire . . .

St Hilaire above Puyméras below

We found the time to go buy Bibs at both Puyméras and Bédoin. After the visit to the latter we indulged ourselves with a circuit of Le Géant, yea even unto the summit plateau of said mountain. At the former we noted the neatness of the village, its perfect position, the newly acquired and customised Mairie building, and Mary watched some paint drying.

We managed to squeeze in a saunter to Château Hers on the Rhône, now tastefully renovated and stabilised in its semi-ruinous state.

We inspected La Bori, the garden above Suzette, and drank Kir-Royals at Le Barroux.

We ventured, towards the end of our stay, over the roads of the Toulourenc near Veaux and the gorges thereat. Earlier, we visited the site of the pine on the ridge above St Maurice, now utterly gone without trace. We took away the boulders from our terrace that we borrowed from near Châteauneuf-du-Pape (to keep the doors open when the mistral blew) and repurposed them below the pylon at Rabais Sud . . . and we managed to do several bits of the Rasteau walk on several occasions, punctuated with Sunday lunchtime snifters in the square. We walked to Séguret and back, not done that in recent times.

Violès café

And we lunched. As per.

At Roaix, Villedieu, Violès (see right), Vaison, Séguret and Sablet, even chez nous on occasion…… We ate with friends, John, Louise, Liz*, Keith*, Jen, Dorte*, Søren*… Gerard was indisposed but we took tea with him and Jen on the Grande Rue. More than once.

* sold up in Sablet but unable to keep away

So I suppose we did get out and about a bit, but I note that in all our previous thirty three visits to Sablet, never did we stray less far from the environs of Sablet, there was so much stuff to sort. And yet we scored, don't you think?

As the horror of what we are doing (NB selling out 1rueFB) sank deeper and deeper into our souls we decided the only way to address this distress was by planning to do some more familiarisation with the above, even after we are no longer Fr tax payers and Fr property owners.

In short, book a holiday in 84! Not in Sablet you understand, that would be too too painful, but nearby. Mme Melling went to it – as well as climbing our beloved P-de-D Holm Oak, like she did back in the last century – only not quite so high.

So next year, if the booking holds up (and we have paid a deposit so it better) our autumn vacance will be based in Villedieu, hardly a stone’s throw from the square and the Café du Centre. We’ve taken a look at this rental (exterior only) and it looks OK. Very OK. Not quite the equivalence of our cool understated space at 1rueFB in Sabbers of course… but that has now been dispersed and its character lost as we clear it out. A base we will enjoy I am sure and from whence we can revisit familiar people, places and things. Stitched with some regret though, at our loss of our own footprint, I bet. There's no pleasing some folk, is there?

But before that comes to pass we have to follow through on 1rueFB. Another visit to round it off, in pretty short order. Completion even. Bank the proceeds. Sort The Table issue out. Watch this space (or do something worthy, the choice is yours).

1rueFB was built in 1877 or thereabouts. Since it was converted into a house, no one can have appreciated it more than we. Long may the ugly ducking, with its shortage of right angles in all and every room, give shelter and pleasure to those who choose to live there. We got loads.