Buying a sofa

April 4, 2019

We have been telling ourselves for some time that we really ought to invest in a good sofa-bed, to put up extra visitors or Walksweeks guests.  And endlessly putting it off. It’s not easy to motivate yourself for this kind of purchase when you live in the middle of nowhere. There are no huge furniture warehouse chains in France, no frenetic TV advertising in the run up to Christmas (why?) and in any case we haven’t got a television.  Add to that the fact that French furniture makers have for some years followed an unfortunate trend, set by the up-market Roche Bobois, for sofas with such deep seats that your guests are obliged to sprawl almost flat to reach the back, and so tend to perch uneasily on the edge of the seat, whilst you pass them cushions in an attempt to make them look and feel more comfortable. No, we didn’t want to get caught out like that again!

Of course there is always the trusty Ikea, and indeed we have turned to them many times and always been pleased with the results, but it’s a trek to our nearest store, too much hassle for now, so we kept putting it off.  In any case the questions just mounted up: could we get it delivered? would it go up the stairs? what colour? what to do with the old one? (a rash purchase at the first auction we ever attended, almost immediately regretted) . . .  and so on.

And then I was passing La Maison Richard in Lamastre, a family run establishment which sells everything from sewing cotton to furniture, and spotted what looked like a very possible sofa in the window, reduced by 100 €. A few days later Markus came to have a look and realised that it was indeed a canapé convertible. We went inside to investigate.  It turned out to be perfect, made in France, reasonably priced, comfortable, with a human-dimensioned seat and a high back, and amazingly easy to transform into a full sized bed with just one flick of the wrist.  No cushions to store and a very comfy mattress: c‘est un Dunlopillo confirmed Monsieur.  Deal done.

Could they deliver?  Mais certainement!  Would that evening be convenient? (it was about half past three) Perfect. Would we mind if they came after they had closed the shop as Madame likes to go out for a spin after spending the day indoors?  Yes they would take away the old one for recycling, no we didn’t need to pay, we could write a cheque later.  What address?  We started to explain that we are les Sarziers not Sarzier but Madame stopped us.  Of course I know she said, I was born in the house!

Yes, it’s another of these stories, but each one adds a little to the history of our life at les Sarziers.

They rolled up at about seven and made very short work of getting the new sofa upstairs, re-assembling it, showing us how it works and stowing away the old one in their van.  Then we settled down in the kitchen and Markus opened a bottle of Brice’s wine from the La Mouna vineyard in Empurany.  They took one sip, looked at each other and exclaimed c’est exactement comme le Gamay du grand-père!”  They explained that Madame was only eight months old when her father died and the family left the farm.  Her mother needed to complete her nursing training and so the baby was looked after by her maternal grandparents, who lived above the village of Empurany.  Grandpa must have been quite a character, to judge by the stories they told us.

In the 1920s he travelled with with his ox cart to the Beaujolais, north of Lyon, to buy Gamay plants for his vineyard.   Arlebosc and Empurany were well known at the time as winegrowing villages and Gamay was, and still is, the favoured varietal.  Goodness, we said, how long did it take to get there?  Oh about a week, they replied, adding that it was just as well that the oxen knew their way on the final stretch of the return journey, since there had been a lengthy pause at the village café to celebrate the event, and le Davidou had to rely on them to get him safely home with his precious load.

Later on he had a 2CV which he was liable to drive off the road because he was always interested to check on his neighbour’s crops and animals and was inclined to “turn the steering wheel the same way as his gaze”. He once famously “harvested” a neighbour’s wheat with his Deudeuche, by driving through a patch without noticing!

He drank only his own wine, which he also supplied to all the neighbouring restaurants and cafés, not forgetting his own family. When his older sister had to go into a nursing home he kept up the supply until she died at a ripe old age. He himself died about 15 years ago, accidentally as they said, at the age of 94!

Madame’s husband also lost his parents at a relatively young age and he too was brought up by his grandparents. They both remarked that they were fortunate to have known their grandfathers, since so many of that generation did not return from the Great War and frequently their contemporaries never knew theirs. This particular young man had lied about his age in 1914 – he was 16 – and joined up so as not to be separated from his older brother.  They both only expected to be away for a few months (“over by Christmas”) and instead spent four years at the front.  Both brothers survived the battle of Verdun, which lasted from February to December of 1916, claiming 360,000 French lives, and is remembered by French people as the defining battle of WW1.

The family business will celebrate its centenary next year, having been founded by the grandfather in Lamastre in 1920.  They started out as matelassiers and Monsieur told us how he and his boss would travel each year to distant farms to remake some of the family mattresses.  As he said, with families of fourteen or so, there was always the need.  These were wool mattresses which the family would have unstitched, before taking out the wool and washing it – some people better than others, he added dryly.  Then the wool was re carded and the mattress remade, with 3 or 4 kilos of new wool added to each.  He certainly knows all about mattress making, and his approving comment of le Dunlopillo took on new significance for us.

I have always found Madame to be a trifle intimidating, although she has an unbeatable eye for matching colours when it comes to zips and thread, but on this occasion I discovered her softer side and passed her the tissues as she looked around the kitchen and tried to picture the father and the family life she had never known.  They stayed for a couple of hours and as they rose to leave, the carefully prepared, hand written invoice was produced and we made out the cheque (everyone uses cheques for everything here, even in the market).

After they had gone we reflected on the enormous difference there is between this sort of transaction and the “couple of clicks”, totally automated kind.  La Maison Richard will not continue after this generation as both their daughters are trained district nurses and love their jobs – so crucial to rural areas like ours.  But as long as local businesses like this exist it is a real pleasure to have an opportunity to support them.  We are delighted with our new sofa, and just as delighted with the experience of purchasing it.


PS. A while back we noticed this rather saucy description on a double mattress, displayed outside the shop.  So French!




It’s almost Spring, so . . . .

March 8, 2019

Finally, the answers!  Apologies for the delay, but here they are at last.  Many thanks to all of you who submitted entries, we were impressed by the clarity and detail of many replies – a lot of research had clearly been done and the level of entries was impressively high!


1      The stone is used to clean the mud off your boots before going inside. It can also be useful to help remove said boots if they get stuck.


2      Oxen were led into this structure, strapped in and raised a little off the ground so that the blacksmith could shoe them in safety and comfort. This one is in the village of Grozon near us.



They are used on our little railway line to attach sleepers to the rails.


4 This is a winnowing machine, manufactured in Tarare, a small town north west of Lyon. We had an ancient one in our stable for years, but at the time of the Great Clear Out we broke it up and burned it. This is one of the parts that we kept and still use for sieving stones out of earth etc.


5 They are wedges to support a wine barrel.


6 This is a high tech “canon à grêle”, (which Brice describes as un oeuvre d’art contemporain), designed to shoot shock waves into the atmosphere and disperse hail-bearing clouds which are a threat to ripening tree fruit, in this case apricots.

It replaces the former practises of shooting into the clouds with a rifle, or laboriously lighting little fires in tin cans placed foot of each tree. Apart from being hideous and intrusive they are causing a great deal of controversy on account of the noise they produce. (Fortunately none too close to us)


7 A is used to lift potatoes,

B several uses, including tracing lines for sowing seed.

C is a dibber for planting onions, shallots and bulbs of all kinds.


8 It is called a chevalet (or little horse), hence saw-horse in English, and is used to balance logs when sawing them. (Obviously not the ones stacked behind it!)

The same word is used for a painter’s easel and there’s an amusing moment in Welcome to the Free Zone (p 69) where a flustered Delphine confuses chevalet and chèvre (goat), which Bill cleverly translated as easel and weasel:

‘Excuse me, Madame,’ said the newcomer, whose voice was that of a woman despite the man’s trousers, ‘I’m looking for someone who’s supposed to be round here. Maybe you’ve seen her go past! A young blonde woman, quite tall, with an easel.’

‘A woman? With a weasel?’ repeated Delphine, stunned. ‘No, I haven’t seen anyone, I’m sure. Especially with a weasel… anyway, there aren’t any weasels round here…


This wire basket is for collecting and transporting eggs.


10   This door protects the access to a “source captée” or capped spring.

These are very common around here and serve as a reliable water supply for more isolated properties. The door opens to a stone lined passage, which can be up to 20m in length, leading to a chamber, beautifully constructed of stone, occasionally quite elaborate, on two levels, which constitutes a small reservoir.


11      5 nails =14 black caps (you do the maths!)



Every farm once had their range of clapiers à lapins and rabbits were bred and fattened up as a manageable source of meat. Our neighbour Mme Banchet used to show us her rabbits with pride, announcing that “à deux kilos cinq on les fait à la barbecue!” * However she was much too soft-hearted to kill them herself and one of her neighbours had to come down from the side valley on his Solex to dispatch them for her! 

*Telle grand’mère, tel petit fils!



And now . . . . Drum roll . . . . the winners are . . . . .

In Honourable Third Place and Highly Commended:  The Swiss Team – Vreni and Jürg

In a Very Strong Second Place, (making good use of their local knowledge, despite the handicap of The Wrong Language and with a special commendation for facetiousness): The Local team – Brice and Lisa

In an Unassailable First Place, the winners of our Mid Winter Quiz are:  The Welsh Team – Jane and John.


Congratulations to our winners and thank you all for playing our Mid Winter Quiz!



Winter walks

February 9, 2019

Entries to our Mid Winter quiz are beginning to arrive, do keep them coming!  Don’t forget that you have until February 22nd to submit your efforts (no, it’s really NOT that hard!) by email to

In the meantime here are some wintry pictures from the past couple of weeks.

A walk above Empurany.

Burning up the prunings.

A walk at Nozières.

More cold birds.

A walk at Monteil.

And a final cold bird!

Mid-winter quiz

January 22, 2019

The temperature is dropping and snow is forecast but we are snug indoors with the wood-burners crackling and a pot-au-feu on the stove – it’s time for our mid winter quiz!  And this time there’s a prize to be won!  We are offering a thrilling ride on the Vélorail down the Doux Gorge for the lucky winner plus one!!  So, thinking caps on and here we go.

1  Apart from cracking your head open when you fall over it, what is this stone used for?

2  It looks like a medieval instrument of torture, but what was the function of this contraption?

3  On the advice of a friend I use these to weight bottling jars in the sterilizer. Where did they come from and what was their original function?

4  What links these three pictures?

5  What should be placed between these four objects?

6  What on earth is this and what is its purpose?

7  Planting, sowing , harvesting …. which tool is used for which?

8  Can you name this useful piece of kit in French and what is it used for? For our French readers, do you know what it is called in English?

9  This wire basket has a specific use, what is it?

10  What is behind this little door?

11  Our bird feeder is proving popular with black caps. Based on the RSPB weight of one bird (21g), how many black caps would weigh the equivalent of these hand made nails?

12  Who once lived here?

We hope you have fun with our conundrums!  We love getting comments so please keep them coming, but answers please only by email to:  (You don’t want anyone copying your intelligent responses!)

Closing date for entries is February 22nd!


A timely intervention

January 15, 2019

Bonne Année, bonne santé – everyone is wishing their friends, colleagues, the postman … the cat, a happy and healthy new year.

2019 kicked off for us with a burst water pipe. At 2 am, on a nocturnal trip to the bathroom, it was clear that the cistern wasn’t filling, the taps were dribbling and in short we had no water. Fitful attempts to sleep until it was light enough to investigate resulted in vivid dreams, for both of us involving exactly the same point on the lane up to the house, so as soon as it was light, Markus knew precisely where to look! And sure enough at the very spot where in his dream he had been discussing the problem with a neighbour, water was gushing merrily out of a hole in the ground and flowing briskly down the lane to the main road.

We called the water company at 8.30 and they promised to send out their team so Markus popped round to see Roger and, since he too had no water, to drink a glass of rosé – eh oui!

Mid-morning a chap in a van turned up, who proved to be vastly entertaining. He told us he had been able to verify that the pipe had burst at 2 am because water consumption at les Sarziers had hit a noticeable spike on his débitmetre, and he added that he was most grateful that we had refrained from calling the emergency hotline until the morning since he had been on the night shift.

He shook his head at the stream and regretted that he would be obliged to cut off our water supply until such time as the repair team showed up. Markus pointed out that we didn’t have water in any case, and he replied pensively “Ah oui, c’est bien vrai!” Once he had stemmed the flow at the stop tap on the crossroads and the river began to abate, he drew two blue arrows on the road to show the repair team where to look and Markus complimented him on his artistry. “Well”, he said, “I have lots of practice”, adding rather daringly, “and at the week ends I paint them in yellow!”

The next task was to indicate to the repair gang the exact location of les Sarziers. Yes, I know, faithful readers will recall the great naming and numbering operation of a few years ago, which, we were promised, despite the huge waste of time and natural resources, would enable the emergency services and tutti quanti to pinpoint each house in France with unerring accuracy. Abolutely useless of course! We were back to the same old confusion between us and the tiny, almost inaccessible hamlet of Sarzier, where many a lorry has found itself hopelessly stuck. Back to the wrong name for our lane, our crossroads and no knowledge whatsoever of 140 Chemin des Granges. Which is all as it should be.

Once all that had been sorted out, he prepared to leave. Markus asked when the SWAT team might be expected to arrive and the chap said “Ah!” and looked wise. “Well”, he said, “they are at present attending an emergency in St Victor,” a small village about 10 miles away, with a restaurant. It was now 11.30 and he thought they would probably arrive before 12, unload the digger and then go and have lunch. “The thing is though,” he said, “they are very choosy about where they have lunch”. They might of course eat in St Victor, then again they might feel like a change and have a look at Chez Nath in Boucieu, or perhaps check out Empurany, although the cuisine there might not be quite to their taste in which case they would go on to find somewhere in Lamastre of an acceptable standard. “They’ll probably be here by two” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he got into his van and sped off.

Sadly, we had an appointment in the valley and had to set off at 2.30 before there was any sign of these epicures. We were sorry to miss them, although we did spot their lorry, loaded with a cheery turquoise digger, coming towards us on the road from St Victor.

When we returned, it was all over. A neat patch of turned earth and water back on tap. A hugely satisfactory outcome, combining French efficiency, wit and gastronomy. Happy New Year to you all!

Culture in the Sticks

November 21, 2018

I was born in the hospital of a small Swiss village called Männedorf, a place on the northern shore of the Lake of Zurich. It was one of the coldest years of the century and I have been told that my father came to see me in the maternity hospital on skates from our home in Uerikon, a sleepy place which is known for its pretty wedding chapel and its two imposing knights’ dwellings.

During my childhood, my mother went weekly to take organ lessons in the protestant church of Männedorf. It was partly because of her teacher that I started the trumpet, as she knew an excentric trumpet player who came especially from Germany on a motorbike to teach me at home.

The old organ in the protestant church of Männedorf was known in musical circles, because it was constructed in situ by one Johann Nepomuk Kuhn, who at that time worked for a Swabian organ builder. After the job was finished in 1863, Johann Nepomuk, charmed by the beautiful lake, decided to stay in Männedorf, where he set himself up on his own. The factory boomed in the late 19th century, and was awarded the organ contract for St. Gallen cathedral and the Grossmünster in Zürich. The firm is still going strong, now mainly specializing in organ restoration.

In 1963 the chapel next to my childhood home in Uerikon was equipped with an organ and my mother became the chapel’s organist. Not surprisingly this instrument was manufactured by Kuhn of Männedorf. I have a vivid memory of my mother, who was a small lady, perched dangerously on the edge of the organ bench struggling to reach the pedals with her feet.

Kuhn organ in Uerikon

She played mainly for weddings, and I clearly remember her taking a trowel and a bucket into chapel, so she could scoot out after the ceremony to collect the horse dung left by the animals who were employed to pull the bridal carriage. Apart from music, she loved gardening, and in her opinion there was nothing better for roses than fresh horse manure.

Markus with his mother some years ago

Now this does not seem to have much to do with the Ardèche. But wait!

Kate and I are part of a cultural association, based in Désaignes, a pretty medieval village close to Lamastre. The ACD is an independent organisation which co ordinates diverse activities from chess and scrabble to hiking, circus arts, yoga and bee keeping. The logo on our membership cards is a stylized drawing of a church with three organ pipes.

A few weeks ago the Cultural Association of Désaignes celebrated its 50th birthday and marked the occasion with a  concert performed by the local choir, conducted by Laurent, choir master and director of the ACD, who had been rehearsing the choir for over a year in preparation for the event. The concert took place in the Temple, the protestant church, which was packed.

Organ05 (1280x855)

Concert 2018 Ars Nova choir Desaignes

In the same venue 50 years earlier a memorable concert had attracted a television crew and hundreds of people to mark the launch of the Cultural Association, an idea which was considered rather unusual in the 60’s, when villages and small towns all over France were suffering from an inexorable drain of their population towards the cities and the traditional cultural events and meeting places were in decline. Désaignes could not reverse the trend, but could give the people the opportunity to meet, to improve their skills and to share their interests. So this concert would be the symbolic start of cultural events to come.

1968 outside the church

1968 filming the concert

The driving force behind this idea was the young vicar of the protestant parish. The church had been rebuilt after a recent fire and he expressed the wish to install an organ. Shortage of money meant that a new instrument was out of question, so the vicar, who originally came from Switzerland, looked for an alternative and found a bargain in Lausanne. But how to get it to Désaignes? The parishioners readily took up the challenge and despatched eight of their number in a blue lorry to Lausanne. There they stayed for a week, dismantling the organ, numbering the pipes, and packing everything into crates, after which they returned in triumph to Désaignes. They were later heard to observe that the Swiss eat too much cheese and that the wine glasses are too small, but the operation was an undoubted success. The organ was re-assembled, not without difficulty, as the ceiling of the church was too low for the big pipes, and had to be cut out – no problem for our eight heroes.


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But finally there it was, ready for the big concert. A recital performed by the organist of Lausanne cathedral in front of 1000 people.  A spectacular launch of an institution that is still going strong and includes the whole community.

And of course ……. the organ was manufactured by Kuhn of Männedorf, thus linking my childhood place, a tiny little dot on the map with my region of choice, another tiny dot on the map.


Kuhn organ in Désaignes

Just before this year’s celebrations in Désaignes I wrote to the director of Kuhn and told him the story. I received a polite letter in reply, thanking me and telling me that Kuhn had been interested to update its archives, as they had no record of the removal of the organ from Lausanne. I haven’t yet told him that the organ is kaputt, and it would be very nice of him to restore it. But unless sacks of Swiss Francs are forthcoming, it is probably wiser to rely on eight guys with a blue lorry to sort things out!

Ardèche Bridges

October 28, 2018


The Bridge across the Duzon on the way to Tournon

Due to an operation on my hand, Kate is doing all the driving for a month, which gives me the opportunity to admire our beautiful landscape and to appreciate the marvellous engineering of our roads. Just for fun I started to count the bridges that we cross on our different runs to Lamastre, St.Félicien, Tournon and Valence. For example on the short trip to Lamastre, which is just 6 miles, we cross 9 brooks or rivers. Intrigued, I checked the Internet about the number of bridges in the whole of the Ardèche and it transpires that there are 2345 bridges included in the departmental road system. That excludes all minor roads, village streets and hiking paths.

There are in fact more bridges here than in the Alps. The reason – expressed in the language of a kindergarten-geologist – is that the glaciers scooped out motorways in the Alps, whereas erosion in the Ardèche had to fight against hard crystalline rock, thus creating a topography resembling the teeth of a comb.

As the Romans were keen to get from Marseilles up North, there are several Roman bridges in the Ardèche – or at least several which are called Roman. Traditionally, old looking bridges are very soon qualified as Roman, but in fact there are only two still in use. The language of course does not help: roman in French is Romanesque – romain is Roman.

Bridge at Boucieu-le-Roi

Then there are a great number of medieval bridges, including the one closest to us crossing the Doux to Boucieu-le-Roi. Once a Roman bridge, the present construction dates from 1492 – that is not counting the bits that fall off when big lorries get stuck on it (last patched up in 2017).

Setting up a Picnic for Walksweeks by the Boucieu bridge

Very often while hiking one comes across an old bridge in a remote places.

Bridge on path from St. Félicien to Nozières

The picture above is of a bridge near St. Félicien and is at the moment our favourite one. It is on the old path between St.Félicien and Nozières and only about 6 miles from Les Sarziers. We discovered it only last year, when we were asked to mark a path for the Tourist Office.

We have walked across some extraordinary bridges in the South Ardèche, many of them spectacular and often built in impossible places. Some we are told have had the generous assistance of the devil. (As a Swiss I do feel obliged to inform you that there is only one genuine Devil’s bridge in the world, which crosses the Reuss on the St.Gotthard pass road. The others are all fake and the guy they thought was Satan was a farmer with a strange hair style and a pitch fork).

The Devil’s Bridge near Thuyets across the Ardèche river

The Ardèche boasts two famous inventors. In the 18th century, Monsieur Mongolfier from Annonay invented the hot air balloon. It is not clear whether his invention was prompted by the winding roads, and whether he thought that if everyone had a hot air balloon you could stop building bridges. Anyhow we are very proud of him and so was the king of France.

Suspension bridge across the Rhone from Tournon to Tain

Some 30 years later Marc Seguin, his somewhat more down-to-earth great-nephew, turned his attention to bridges and came up with the suspension bridge. Admittedly the concept was not completely original, as there were already chain bridges in the States and in Great Britain. What was new was the use of steel cables instead of chains. His first big bridge was built across the Rhône between Tournon and Tain in 1825, and his design became the prototype for the whole of France.

Spanning the Rhone is quite a feat and worthy of another post.  But tucked away in our side valleys, small ones like this will do.

Hiking up the River

October 19, 2018

In this blog we sometimes touch on our “other lives” in which we escort tourist groups around various parts of Europe as professional Tour Managers. It is this experience which motivated us to set up Walksweeks, but generally the two worlds – touring and sightseeing versus walking and staying at les Sarziers, do not cross over. That was until Road Scholar, an organisation for which we have occasionally worked since 2013, asked us to create a hiking itinerary to complement their excellent Provence and River Cruise programme which we have led many times.

This was an exciting project and we really enjoyed the research and planning that went into devising the itinerary. The challenge was to find interesting and varied walks which would fit around the progress of the boat as we cruised from Martigues, where the Rhône meets the Mediterranean, up-river to Lyon and then along the Saône as far as Chalon.

I have recently completed the first of these programmes with a delightful and enthusiastic group of Americans and Canadians. We started with three nights in St Rémy de Provence, discovering the Roman sites, following the footsteps of Vincent van Gogh, hiking around les Baux, tasting olive oil and enjoying the hospitality and delicious cuisine of this lovely area.

Then we headed off towards one of the most famous wonders of the Ancient World – the Pont du Gard. I have known this monument since I was a very little girl but have never approached it as we did on the hike Markus cleverly found. We discovered many more traces of the acqueduct than we had realised were still visible, and exploring the terrain really brought into focus the incredible engineering feat involved in supplying Nîmes with over eight million gallons of water daily.

And then suddenly there was the bridge itself, stunning and silent, its golden arches striding over the valley as they have for almost exactly 2000 years. Breathtaking!

After lunch and the afternoon in the bustle of lovely Uzès, the group boarded the welcoming MS Van Gogh and settled in for our delightful five night cruise.

A well deserved sit down in Uzès

Markus and I love this journey up the Rhône, stopping in Arles, Avignon, Viviers and even on our doorstep in Tain l’Hermitage, where the group hiked through the vineyards, before visiting Vienne and Lyon.

In the vineyards of the Hermitage at Tain

The two days cruising up the romantic and peaceful Saône are even more enchanting as the ship drifts past small villages, grazing cattle and fishermen seated on the banks or bobbing about in tiny little rowing boats.

What made this trip special was the opportunity to visit the various monuments, villages and sites in a rather different and more intimate manner. Walking helps one to understand the natural features of each landscape, the way that the climate influences vegetation, agriculture and the situation of settlements, giving a deeper appreciation of a “sight” than when you just roll up in a tour bus.  A good example was our hike to the village and castle of Brancion in Burgundy, which dominates the fertile wooded territory which its owners controlled for centuries.

The boat is beautiful and all the staff are so charming and helpful that it was a wrench to leave them in Chalon sur Saône and head back to the real world of traffic and hotel check-ins.

Dawn breaks over the Saône in Chalon

But the hike from tiny Avenas on the forested northern slopes to a stupendous lunch overlooking the sunny vineyards of the Beaujolais was enjoyed by everyone and the next day we had a great time visiting the Croix Rousse area of Lyon, learning about the heritage of silk weaving and exploring the long traboules.

On mange bien en France!

We always enjoy our assignments with Road Scholar, not least because of the wonderful people we meet. The participants on this programme were no exception, curious, open minded, well-informed, adventurous people who were up for the challenge, even, in some cases at a pretty advanced age (encore mes félicitations Diane!)

For me, it was a special pleasure to have had the privilege of leading a new itinerary which I had devised myself (with Markus of course, who was unfortunately unable to join us as he was valiantly leading a band of forty people All Over Italy at the time). With this project we have been able to combine our love of walking and knowledge of France with insights from our very own region and explorations of our particular interests: the silk saga, the wine saga, the Occupation, French food, traditions and customs – so many subjects that we have touched on in this blog.

The weather was glorious, the group was delightful, the MS Van Gogh and all her staff are fabulous … we can’t wait for the next one!



Turning Water into Wine

September 8, 2018

Tomorrow will be the start of the 2018 grape harvest at Morlanche. Our neighbours Brice and Lisa have been busy all year to make this the best vintage ever! And yes, the grapes look pretty promising!



A few days ago, last year’s wine was finally bottled – a necessity, as the vats need to be filled with the new grapes. This is the reward for all the work done in 2017 and for the constant checking up on the quality over the last 12 months. We think that they can be proud of themselves – the wine is extremely good – so sales can begin and feasts can continue!

Bottling at Morlanche

Lisa sealig the corks


But the big event for Brice and Lisa this year was the creation of a new vineyard on the hill opposite Les Sarziers on the way to Arlebosc. 5,300 plants were to be planted – approximately half red (Gamay), and half white (Marsanne and Roussanne) on roughly two acres of land.


Throughout the coldest and windiest period of the winter Brice measured out the terrain and planned the geometry of his new plantation.

Then in January and February the planting started.

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Everything seem to go according to plan …

… until the sighting of some rabbits (which for some reason seem to hold no interest for the chasseurs). So bamboo sticks and nets for each of the plants had to be purchased and put into place.

Then in the early spring the first leaves made an appearance and things looked promising. The wettest spring of the decade encouraged the plants to grow fast and steadily. Of course the weeds knew the same trick and were slightly better at it! This cohabitation, which is just about tolerable when it is raining, became a nuisance and later a problem as the summer drought and the high temperatures turned the soil of the vineyard into the equivalent of an airport runway. The vines started to wilt and gasp for water – even the weeds were ready to give up the ghost. We prayed for rain, but there was none in sight.

So Brice called for a desperate rescue plan. With no spring and no mains water nearby he had to find another way of getting the water to the plants.

And this was when the solidarity of the neighbouring farmers kicked in. One of them provided a water tank on wheels and offered the water from his pond that could be pumped into the container twice daily, another lent a tractor, which Brice learned to drive after a one minute driving lesson, and a third gave us access to his well above the vineyard, which could provide water by gravity. Still others (ourselves included) helped with the chore of manually watering the vineyard, using miles and miles of garden hose.


Brice and Lisa set up an app on a phone which beeped every 17 seconds, alerting us to move on the next plant. Each one got 2 litres of water and then another two on the return up the rows – a job that took two people seven hours, three days a week and needed to be repeated week. Fortunately, after about 20 days there was some rain – not much, but enough to relax for a bit.

In the last few weeks the temperature has dropped and we had some rain on Thursday – so the panic is over. What looked like a loss of 30% has turned out to be around 5%.

Oui, on a eu chaud!

So let’s cheer ourselves up and look to the vendange …. Santé!


Charlie meets Roger

August 21, 2018

After the massive success of Swing aux Sarziers last August, we had considered taking a break from our annual summer concert. But then our friend François told us that some of the tour dates for his group Latin Bird had been cancelled. Would we be up for a concert, in which Markus would be playing all of the second set? You don’t refuse an offer like that!

François is an amazing musician, who plays double bass and heads up several jazz groups, exploring different styles. For Latin Bird, his idea was to re-work Charlie Parker tunes in Latin and Cuban rythms, with Linda, his wife on keyboards, Pierre on a specially adapted and pretty amazing percussion set and a brass solo instrument (usually Selim on saxophone in homage to the legendary “Bird”).

The result is intoxicating and unpredictable, and they kicked up a veritable storm at les Sarziers last Saturday night. Everyone, including Markus, was on top form and around a hundred people enjoyed a memorable evening of music, followed by the traditional buffet dinner under the chestnut tree.

Our neighbour Claude did a one-man animation du parking with his bass clarinet and cymbal contraption and Julien, a guitarist newly arrived from Belgium, performed a couple of solo numbers to start the evening off.

People often comment on how beautiful the setting is for these concerts. The musicians love their perfomance space in the calabert and the great accoustics, whilst the audience enjoys settling down in the lovely summer courtyard as the moon rises, the bats flit about, the stone walls glow gently in the fading light and the music takes over everything.

Guests also tell us how much they enjoy mingling and chatting to old friends and new in the interval and during dinner. It is true that the atmosphere is quite unique and, as we were mulling things over later we were struck by the hugely diverse range of people who gather for such events round here.

As you can see there are always quite a few children, either with their parents or brought by the grandparents with whom they are staying for the summer. Ages range from under two (hello Boris!) to well over eighty and our guests included a vet, a mason, two poets, a psychiatrist, an electrician, a winegrower, a painter, a translator, cheese makers, teachers, social workers, blacksmiths, photographers, philosophers …..
and ….
in an absolute first ….
our neighbour Roger!

Yes, there he is, accompanied by two neighbouring ladies, sitting on three of his four kitchen chairs, up on his field above the courtyard wall. Roger is extremely shy and has never accepted our invitation to join us for a concert but this time Anne-Marie managed to persuade him out, and even to come down and sit in the courtyard for the second half. We haven’t seen him since, but we are delighted that he came and from the big smile on his face and enthusiastic applause, we are pretty sure that he had a good time.

PS The following morning we had a gig with a different group to kick off a Swing Dance Festival in Vernoux. I don’t know how we managed it but Markus swung that trumpet, I sang and we all had a great morning in an enchanting little square, playing for the local café crowd and and a bunch of talented and enthusiastic dancers.

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PPS we’ve just received a some great photos of the concert (merci Margote!) here they are.

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