Paris Bound

After our short stay in Vendée we headed towards Paris, but we weren't staying in the city. In 2006/07 two French guys had visited our farm and we wanted to catch up with them and visit their farms in France. Olivier lives only 40 kilometres from Paris, so we found a "chambres d'hôtes" (B&B) not too far away from his farm.
When we arrived at the place we were to stay my heart sank. It was in the main street of a village and looked quite bland from outside. But as they say, you can't judge a book by it's cover.

La Kasine at Fleurines

Once inside the automatic gate we found a lovely group of buildings and beautifully decorated rooms. The room upstairs where the girls stayed was particularly cute with its small door which was just the right size for kids (they didn't have to stoop to go through) and low sloping ceiling built under the pitch of the roof. We discovered that the hosts had three girls about the same age as our girls and so they soon found all manner of toys to play with. There was also a dog which reminded me very much of my old dog (Raffin) and Hugh enjoyed playing with her.

Hugh enjoying the toys.

Austuce, the pet dog.

Not only was the accommodation charming but the hosts were very friendly too. Even down to giving me the nit treatment left over from their girls when I discovered nits in Sophie's and Bonnie's hair (first time ever, so it is pretty traumatic!!)

Odette and Sophie in the common room where we could cook our own dinner.

We stayed five nights at La Kasine in Fleurines, and then the girls didn't want to leave. While there we went to a few tourist attractions, as well as visiting Olivier's family farm.

A Dead Camera

Sophie with my Canon G9... before it stopped working.

Unfortunately this is the day that my small camera died. It just stopped working. Click. One photo... point, frame, no click... nothing. It was just dead, a poor lifeless little black box in my hand. It is a Canon G9, a fantastic camera which I carry with me - in my bag or my pocket - at all times. (Well I did when it was working...). Since my little camera has stopped working I have been limited to my SLR camera (a Canon EOS 5D) which I love dearly, but which is too large to be inconspicuous and which has a nasty habit of bashing my children on the head when I bend down to them. It is more suited to a serious photo shoot or a solitary session in the town or country than as an everyday camera.
I rang the Canon service centre in Chambéry as soon as I returned from holidays and was told that my Australian warranty is not valid in Europe. Then I rang the Australian suppliers who said that Canon in France could honour the warranty if they wanted to. This week I will need to do some more telephone work to see if I can get my camera fixed, or decide if I need to buy a new one. Because whatever happens, I don't want to be left without it.

Visiting the Browns

Family portrait with Alan and Shirley Brown.

We hadn't done much planning for our summer holiday trip. We knew that we wanted to go to Paris, and to catch up with the "French Boys" whom we had contacted beforehand. But as for dates and other destinations, I preferred to leave it until we were on the road. So it wasn't until the day before that I had rung Mr Brown, my old French teacher, to see if he was home and if we could call in and visit. All we had to do was veer a little to the left on our way to Paris, and we arrived in Sainte Cecile, and found his house out of the village in a nice rural setting.

A beautiful rural setting for the Browns.

Alan and Shirley Brown were only in their twenties (with a 12-month-old baby) when they escorted a group of teenage girls to France in 1982. I was part of the group, as were my two younger sisters. We had stayed in La Roche-sur-Yonne, which is not far from where the Browns live today. Alan had a DVD of the video we had taken on that trip, which was very interesting to watch, especially for my kids. It's hard for them to imagine that their mother was once seventeen!
The Browns live in a small stone house which they have completely renovated. Now they also have a little studio where friends can stay. When we rolled up the kids thought we would be staying in this tiny caravan!

Shirley's caravan.

But no. Next door the cottage is owned by some English people who are friends of the Browns, and they let us stay there. It was a lovely little holiday cottage, which I have portrayed in this collage of images below.

Cottage collage...

Walking in the countryside. Roger is talking to Dave, our sharefarmer
on the mobile phone through Skype.

In the afternoon we took a walk in the countryside and wow, what a field of ryegrass we walked past. For a hayfever sufferer it was not a nice discovery, and the kids and I felt very unpleasant and itchy after that.

The offending field.

La Rentrée

School went back this week. The girls started on Tuesday morning, and Hugh started on Thursday.
Yes, you heard me right - Hugh started school! He doesn't turn three until December, but he has started in the "petite section" of la maternelle at La Flachere (the same school as Odette). The worry is that he is not sufficiently toilet trained to stay at school, but I rejoiced when he returned home from a whole day at school today wearing the same pants as he wore when he left home this morning.
The children will have lunch at school (la cantine) two days a week, and lunch at home two days a week. How good are you at sums? Two days at cantine, two days at home, and that makes four days altogether. And that is the school week. Four days! No school on Wednesdays for pre-school or primary aged children in France.
We have some transport logistics to work out again, now that there is no school transport at lunch time. Last year Bonnie was able to come home for lunch on the bus, but this year we have to pick her up. With her school in one direction and Odette and Hugh in the other it makes it difficult (nay, impossible) to pick them up at the same time. So we are going to try sharing with another family with the same problem - we'll go to one school, they'll go to the other, and we'll meet back in our village to swap children. Otherwise we could just let the kids eat at school every day. We'll see how it works out...

The Robot

I have seen cows being milked before. I have even milked a cow when I was younger. But I have NEVER seen it done this way before. Usually the farmer milks the cows in the morning and the evening, and you see all the cows file past with udders at bursting point. The highest tech milking I had seen before was a dairy where the cups were automatically removed from the teats when the milking was finished. But the robotic milking machine was something else.

The robotic milking machine.

Laser technology for positioning the cups on the teats.

A group watching the entertaining miking robot.

The office, overlooking the barn and the cows.
The computer shows in red which cows are past their due milking time.

More high technology behind the scenes.

The first thing I noticed was that it was so small. Instead of a rotary dairy or the herringbone style where a number of cows (maybe up to 100) are milked at one time, the robot milks just one cow at a time. It looked a bit like a space-age cattle crush. And the cows wander in at any time of the night or day to relieve their udders of milk. They wear electronic collars which identify them, and the robot supplies a measured amount of food for them to eat while they are being milked. We saw one greedy cow come in to try to get something to eat while we were there, but she was turned away because she had only recently been milked.
The cows end up being milked on average more than twice a day, and the increase in milk produced is about ten percent. The machine keeps detailed records on every cow, and measures the milk from not just each cow but each quarter (teat). I'm not sure if it is individually tested too, but why not? What a marvellous machine! The farmer only needs to carry out regular cleaning and maintenance, and if the machine has a problem it automatically sends a message to his mobile phone.
Now the farmer and his wife have lots of spare time, no more early morning milking, and plenty of time to show visitors around their new-fangled dairy.
You would have to think that this machine was the best thing ever for a dairy farmer. Apart from the 150,000 euro cheque he had to sign it probably is. I thought it would be a good thing for the cows too, being able to be milked when the udder if full instead of walking in from the field with milk streaming from a bursting udder (believe me I know the feeling!) But Bonnie noticed that the cows live in the yard and the shed permanently, and never go out into the field to eat green grass or sit under the shade of a tree chewing their cud. So that is the downside.
Now I am more interested than ever in an automatic shearing robot. It has been in the pipeline for years, but never successfully perfected.

The Old Farm

The view from the barn at Annie and Thierry's farm.

Our neighbours Thierry and Annie had invited us to visit their inherited family farm in the Aveyron region, in a little village called Galgan. The original house is 300 years old, and the newer house, built for a farm worker, is 100 years old. There are no 300-year-old houses in Western Autralia. We had a look in the attic and the cellar, and there were old things everywhere. I picked up a book out of a box, and it was printed in 1789. When I leafed through the pages I found some old receipts from 1906 which turned out to be from Thierry's great uncle. My mother would have been in her element looking at all the old stuff.

The date is M DCC LXXXIX. (1789)

The first time Roger had driven a tractor in five months.

Unlike the farms we are used to, many farmyards are actually located in the villages, and the fields may or may not be adjoined to the farmyard. In this case the farmyard is adjacent to the village church, so you can see the church in many of the photos. This place was very different from the village of Sainte Marie d'Alloix where we live, because it is basically a village that revolves around agriculture. There was no route nationale running through it, or freeway within coo-ee, so it was very peaceful.

The old house, which will be magnificent when it is renovated!

The old house is pretty basic - it hasn't been renovated over the years because ever since Thierry's grandfather's time it has been a second home. It has no ablution facilities (that's my way of saying "bathroom!) so the family uses it for extra beds when there are lots of visitors. However Annie and Thierry moved out of the more functional house so that we could sleep there while we stayed. That was pretty nice of them, and I felt a bit guilty sleeping in their big comfy bed, but it was certainly more convenient with the children.

Odette sitting on the windowsill of the house where we stayed.

During our stay we met many of Annie's family. We met her parents and three of her brothers (she has six!) and their families and we went to a barbecue at her youngest brother's house one evening. I loved the family feeling.

Thierry with Annie's brother Didier sitting on the huge fireplace,
where the sausage was cooked for lunch.

Annie preparing the table (with Hugh and Odette blurred).

At the farm there were hens and a vegetable garden, which in Annies's absence is tended by her mother and an old man who lives in the retirement home in the village. Next door, old Jean has a huge garden and hutches of rabbits. The kids had fun collecting the eggs and feeding the rabbits with scraps from the garden.

Feeding the rabbits.

Le vieux Jean.

I hope Annie and Thierry can renovate the farm and create a gîte or a chambre d'hôtes (B&B or guest house) there so that more people can experience this beautiful place.

Les Pompiers

Today I had to call the "Pompiers", which is the French equivalent of the fire brigade. But they do a lot more than just fight fires. I called them because we had found a wasps' nest in the garage (the second garage which we don't use - it is where Stef has stuff stored). I had asked Stef what we should do about it and he suggested buying a product to spray the wasps. But when I sent the photo showing how huge the nest was he got back straight away and said I should dial "18" for the pompiers. The wasps are called "frelon" and can be dangerous if anyone gets several stings, especially children. With such a big nest it was too risky to tackle ourselves.

The huge "nid de guêpe" in situ in the garage.

The nest was large and very beautiful. It seems a pity to destroy all the work of the wasps - they must have been busy while we were away - but we were advised to destroy it to remove the risk of stings.

The pompier was completely covered with protective overalls, helmet and gloves.

The children were inside trying to get a view of the proceedings.

The pompiers were very friendly, and it is just as well because I took heaps of photos. They have asked for one of the photos that they might be able to use in their annual calendar for 2010.

A close up of a dying wasp.

The spray was a neurotoxin which kills the wasps in ten seconds
After the wasps had been sprayed our neighbour Eric turned up - he said that dead wasps had been raining in his backyard. He brought his little boys to have a look at the fire truck, and they ended up staying for a drink.

The kids posing with a friendly pompier

Eric said I needed to watch my French because I had "tutoyé" one of the pompiers. In French there are two forms of the word "you". "Tu" is used for family, children, friends and close acquaintances, while "vous" is used for strangers, those in authority or as the plural from. Anne said she would never say "tu" to the pompiers, and they joked that I was making a pass at him because I had asked him "As-tu an adresse mail?". I was asking for an email address so that I could email a photo.

Foire Artisanale

We were lucky that our visit to Champs-sur-Tarentaine coincided with the local Craft Fair and Book Festival. That is why we stayed an extra night and enjoyed a day at the Fair.
Hugh and Odette had pony rides, we bought a little book directly from the author, and he painted a picture and signed it for us in the book. I enjoyed browsing the books and talking to the authors. And we all had a look around the village from a carriage pulled by two beautiful horses.

Odette, Sophie, Bonnie and Hugh watching Daniel Bruges decorate our book.

The detail...

Odette riding on a pony.

Hugh, not so confidant on the pony...

The two horses that pulled the carriage.

The view from the carriage...

Odette dressed up at the lace stand

Sophie with handmade lace in the background.

Bonnie with Solange, the talented lace-maker.

Making bobbin lace looks complicated!

In the evening we went to the community centre for a meal of local fare and entertainment. The centre was packed, and we couldn't even find room at a table outside, so we had to eat on the edge of the road. It was hard to order as we had never heard of any of the names of the dishes. Except we knew we would not order the one that included the word "tripes" (surely that must be the same as in English?)

Roger queuing for dinner

The menu

Tourte de pomme de terre...

Coufidis...

Dancing the night away.

Now the only thing I don't have photos of are the delicious artisanale icecreams!

Camping

Roger, locating us on the map.

Champs-sur-Tarentaine was where we headed for our first night of holiday. Roger had searched the internet for somewhere that looked interesting between home and our destination of Galgan in the Aveyron region. We set our trusty TomTom GPS to Champs-sur-Tarentaine and headed off. We were somewhat surprised when we found ourselves entering the village of Marcilloles, which is where Sophie's penfriend Mathilde lives. We couldn't go by without stopping to say hello (could we?) - so we made another unannounced visit. We had a drink with Pascale and the girls, and it was just when the opening ceremony for the Olympic Games was starting on the TV.
After the unscheduled stop and the slow start we were pushed for time so we followed the autoroutes as much as possible for the rest of the way.
Arriving at the Municipal camping ground at Champs-sur-Tarentaine after closing time for the shops could have been a problem, but the lovely lady at reception just rang the friendly local butcher and asked if he had anything ready to eat. He had some lasagne, which Roger went and fetched while the kids and I explored the camp a bit. We didn't have any cooking implements, so the manager lady heated it for us in her microwave, and we were set for dinner.

Sophie and Bonnie sharing the chores.

The camping ground was lovely, with hedges separating individual campsites. During the night we were lulled to sleep by the sound of running water because we were camped beside a river. There was a community room where the kids liked to watch a bit of the Olympics in the morning, and where at night there was organised entertainment. The first night was line dancing and the second karaoke I believe, but we were too tired to participate. Opposite our tent there was an expanse of mowed grass big enough for Hugh to kick the football. We could walk into the village, and on the way go past a heated swimming pool, mini-golf, and a playground.
The Marcoux's tent we were using is large enough for the whole family, but next time we won't need such a big tent. During the night everyone seems to move closer to Mum, so that by the morning half the tent is unoccupied!

Bonnie getting the air out of a blow-up pillow.

Sophie demonstrating her more inventive way...

Ready, Set, ... Battery.

The day of our departure was, as usual, a little chaotic. We had intended to pack the rooftop box the night before, but due to a thunderstorm and rain it didn't happen. Bonnie took her fish Rosie down the road for her friend Salome to look after her during the holidays. Roger packed the rooftop box (you wouldn't see me balancing up there!) and we stuffed everything into the car as best we could.

Roger ready to shut the box.

We kept three seats across the middle and took out one rear seat of the "people mover" so that we could fit as much in as possible. Hugh ended up sitting in the back nearly obscured by a doona.

The kids were in the car early.

The kids had been excited about going on our trip so they were in the car more than an hour before we were ready to go. We had all the doors and the back open, so the interior lights automatically went on.

Waiting for the battery to charge...

I guess that is why, when we were finally ready to leave, the car was not. The battery had gone flat! Luckily Stef is well equipped with a battery charger in the garage, so we didn't have to wait too long before we were finally... On The Road!!