Autumn in the Seoune Valley

There's something rather magical and mystical about this time of year in our valley. The two little rivers at the bottom of the hill, coupled with the abudance of lakes, means that the valley is often shrouded in an early morning mist when I take DS and DD to catch the school bus.

On the plateau you can see for miles and miles and the chateaux and fortified villages hang above the mist like little islands.

Down below is a monochrome landscape of greys, blacks and blues and as the sun burns off the mist it's as if an unseen hand is slowly filling in the colours.

I go to the village shop for my morning croissant, often arriving before the boulanger's van, so I catch up the village gossip with Gilles and Sandrine who own the shop until the white van pulls up and we are hit by the glorious smell of fresh baked baguettes.

We're having the most glorious Indian Summer here in France. Day after day of cloudless skies, temperatures in the mid 20s with a gentle breeze, chilly nights drinking hot chocolate on the terrace and watching the stars. You can see the Milky Way here and there's nothing better than lying on your back watching the millions and millions of stars. I'd never seen a shooting star till we came here but now, on a clear night, if you watch carefully you might see half a dozen. I've wished on so many of them but so far that Euromillions win has remained illusive! No seriously, I always wish for world peace!

The trees are all putting on their autumn colours and the woods are a riot of reds, lime greens, brown and oranges. The plane trees that line the road, with their exzemaic trunks, turn the most glorious colours in October.

Our little departement, created by Napoleon himself, is without doubt, the most lovely in France. I've travelled all over and found nothing to rival the beauty of the undulating hills, ancient oak forests and lake filled valleys. Sometimes I stop on the hill down from the village just to take in the view. It's truly uplifting. Many times I've tried to capture it's beauty on film but it's just too big and too wonderful to do justice to it.

It always amazes me that so few people have even heard of it but on the other hand, it means that in the summer we arevnever overrun with tourists like the Dordogne and the Charente. It's known by the discerning few who return year after year and our little village café with a reputation that spans continents, is bursting at the seams with a multitude of different nationalities all chatting away in a maelstrom of languages, sipping chilled rosé or thick, dark coffee.

In the fields, the farmer are busy, working late into the night harvesting the maize while the droopy-headed sunflowers finally give up their seeds. Then it's clearing and ploughing ready for the spring sowing when once again the fields will be filled with yellow rape, golden corn and a multitude of sunflowers.

Wherever we end up, our house and our little valley will have left an indelible mark on my heart and the last time we drive down the hill, past the pond and the gurgling waterfall, past the buzzards who regularly fly down with us, past the deer grazing in the fields, will be bitter-sweet.

The Immobilier's Visit Part II

I feel that, like any decent sequel, this should have some 'kick ass' name like 'The Vendeuse Strikes Back' or something but for the moment I'm not feeling inspired so I'll just stick with Part II.

First things first though. Anyone seen any black holes yet? Well, apart from the one in my purse whenever I open it anyway. Yes, today CERN starts to try and recreate the beginning of the universe with its Large Hadron Collider. Is it just me or don't you think a giant piece of kit like that with all that it's capable of should at least have a name that includes words which actually exists in the English language. I mean, what's a collider when it's at home? And is is a LARGE Hadron Collider or does it collide large Hadrons? I think these scientific chappies are missing the point. Even if it does create anti-matter it should have a decent name that sounds a bit scientific.

For those that don't understand what it's all about, here it is in layman's terms.

Well you have this big ring thingy, only it isn't really circular it's made up from a series of arcs. It's 27kms long, so if the experiment fails the Swiss can always use it as a velodrome and practise for the next Olympics.

At various points it has detectors which are looking for a) the Higgs Bosun or God particle (CMS), anti-matter (LHBc), Dark Matter (Atlas) and the moments after the big bang (Alice). How come the only female name in the whole thing comes after the word 'bang'?

In the tunnel ring thingy, particles of something or other called protons (not to be confused with the car) are pushed round at huge speed and smashed into the detectors. (Sounds like a normal day out driving in Southwest France to me). The Alice detector uses electrically charged lead atoms and scientists hope to re-create a state of matter called quark-gluon plasma which existed just after the Big Bang. Now if that's not a name from Star Trek then I don't know what is!! The whole point of this is slightly lost on me but it cost billions and lots of overgrown boys work on it, so there must be a reason, eh?

So, is this the end of Creationism as we know it? Did all those years I spent at Sunday School really mean nothing? Does anybody except for CERN, a few boffins (and my brother) really care? The Doom Mongers, who can always get jobs on the Daily Mail and the Sun if all else fails, claim that it may mean the end of the world and YouTube is awash with computer simulations of what could happen if it goes horribly wrong.

On the plus side though, the Earth has so far failed to be sucked into the black hole that is my purse and the CERN one will be child's play compared to that, and, even if it did, it would take my credit card bills with it, so perhaps there would be a God after all! So there you are. Clear as mud.

On the minus side, I spent days creating a website for our house sale and I'll be really, really peed off if the world ended before I'd had a chance to publish it!

Which brings me back to Immobiliers. After the cock up on Friday, I did manage to get an estate agent round, the lovely Suzie from Agence Passemard and also my friend Jen from Bacchus and so the fun begins.

Today I had another 'rendez-vous' planned with Stephane from Quercy Blanc Immobilier. Things got off to a bad start when I dropped the children at the bus stop to discover a) no bus, b) no other children and c) the road out of the village blocked because they are laying new water mains. The children haven't been getting the bus as DD still hasn't got her bus pass - no doubt another casualty of the French postal system. This morning though, with the rendez-vous planned I was planning to ask Bastard Bus Driver if he could possibly please, I know she's not on the list yet but her bus pass is in the post, honest, take her too so I could get back and have a final clear up before Stephane arrived. Apparently though, due to the road works, the bus leaves from another part of the village 15 minutes earlier than scheduled. Well thanks for the head-up guys!

I dashed the 23kms to college, slowed down slightly to throw them out of the car, and sped back home. We've been really good about keeping the house tidy so there wasn't too much to do. 5 to 10 and I'm all ready. Quick dash to the loo is all that's required.

I may have mentioned earlier about our bathroom windows. There are 12 of them, all large. Normally it's not a problem as the bathroom is not overlooked. Unless that is, it's by an estate agent who's not familiar with the layout of the property and so finds himself wandering down the path between the house and the cottage looking for the front door.

There I was, relaxing mid-pee, when I hear the crunch of gravel and look up to see Stephane, all suede jacket, Levis and funky specs, sauntering down towards the bathroom and me in full view almost, knickers round my ankles. Fortunately there is a courtesy wall (one of those half walls) that shields the toilet itself but still I can't stand up and zip up without being seen. In fact if he looks now he'll see my head popping up above the wall! Damn, damn and thrice damn! I fling myself on the floor and commando crawl towards the bedroom, jeans still round ankles. Well what's a girl to do? Have you ever tried doing your jeans up while lying on the floor?

I just hope to God that he doesn't decide to peer in the window. Quite what he'd make of a middle aged English women, bare assed, crawling across the bathroom floor is anyone's guess. Actually, he's probably just assume that I'd started early on the wine, such is the reputation of the Brits among our French neigbours! I can't even bear to look up just in case! Please, please tell me this happens to you too. It can't be just me......... can it?

I make it to the bedroom, sort out my clothing, a quick squirt of perfume as I'd broken out in a sweat and I walk casually to the door.

'Bonjour Stephane, enchanté', I say nonchalantly.

Stephane tells me I write French very well. He's also brought a copy of my e-mail to show me the two small mistakes I made! How very French! Actually, he's very charming and I didn't once bristle when he corrected my spoken errors. Never mind, when I'm Presidente, my first job will be to simplify the French language for the benefit not just of foreigners, but of the French as well. It will do wonders for the illiteracy rates in France!

We wander around the house, the cottage and the gardens. He's trying to get the lie of the land. We find ourselves back on the path by the barn.

'Ah yes,' he says, 'the bathroom'.

Do you suppose he did see me?