Chamberet is often like many French villages around here - as you walk around or drive through there are probably no signs of life - not a soul about. Visitors and other English residents we know here often remark on this. Lots of villages are like English villages and have lost all their services - post office, shops, even the bar or café. So, unlike a busy town or city, there's no reason to be aout and about, other than on a stroll or walkabout. Also, if you happen to pass through after midday, lots of villages still have the holy hour, or rather two hours, when shops close for a long lunch break and the only signs of life might be at the boulangerie (open all day) or the café or restaurant which provides lunches, particularly 'formule' lunches - three courses, usually at a reasonable price and aimed at workers of whatever description.
We live about a three minute walk from the centre of Chamberet, on the official lorry route through the village. When traffic comes in on the back road from Limoges (60 kms away), arriving at the little mini roundabout, heavy vehicles are directed down our street, rather than straight ahead on a shorter route to the village centre where the street narrows considerably. So on most weekdays, we have all manner of cars, lorries with huge quantities of large tree trunks, tankers delivering oil for domestic and farm use, mobile shop vans, and all manner of agricultural machinery of all sorts of weird and wonderful ages, shapes and sizes. Depending on the time of year, there are pedestrians. At the moment, with typical winter January weather with grey, lowering skies and maybe rain, there are occasional pedestrians - a little old lady who goes past every day with her shopping trolley after her visit to the village supermarket, neighbours off to visit other friends and neighbours, residents out for their daily stroll, and kids from the village school on their way to do some activity up at the Salle de Fetes (community centre). And particularly on better weather days cyclists of course - this is the country of the Tour de France after all - usually small groups of men, chattering away in all their helmet and lycra glory.
This afternoon Harry remarked to me that there hadn't been any traffic since the siren and the Angelus bells went at 12 noon. I realised this was right - not one car, not one pedestrian. I ventured out a little while ago to take the rubbish and recycling up to the communal bins and listened to the silence! There were actually maybe five cars passing through and a lone cyclist and me - the only pedestrian.
Such a change from our former life with cars racing up and down a narrow back lane not intended for the purpose in a Durham pit village, then constant traffic ignoring the 30 mph speed limit, with the traffic noise from a busy bypass always in the background. And now, at 8 o'clock on a Saturday night, the occasional car until the occasional Sunday morning traffic from around 9 am.
© Marie Tyler, 2014
Saturday 25 January 2014
Friday 10 January 2014
Temperature's rising . . .
Today, 10 January 2014, in Chamberet, Corrèze, France, it was 20 degrees centigrade in the shelter of the canopy over our front door, and 15 in the shade! Luvverly! You imagined yourself in a warm spring or summer's day.
We made the most - doing some weeding, but couldn't dig too far as the ground is still cold, or maybe just beginning to be cold - and having coffee in the warm sun, and taking the opportunity to do some washing which hopefully would actually dry before the old evening sun went down. Our neighbours have a big garden (here called 'un parc' a park) with some wonderful tall pine trees on sloping higher ground and the sun goes behind them at this time of year at about 15.30, 3.30 in English-speak. Wit the shortest day now gone, it's light until about 18.00.
Sitting in the warm sun and feeling the heat refreshes the spirit, warms the soul and the cockles of heart, but in case you think we're smug or complacent, we know that it's too soon to last, with rain and snow on the radar in the next few days.
© Marie Tyler, 2014
We made the most - doing some weeding, but couldn't dig too far as the ground is still cold, or maybe just beginning to be cold - and having coffee in the warm sun, and taking the opportunity to do some washing which hopefully would actually dry before the old evening sun went down. Our neighbours have a big garden (here called 'un parc' a park) with some wonderful tall pine trees on sloping higher ground and the sun goes behind them at this time of year at about 15.30, 3.30 in English-speak. Wit the shortest day now gone, it's light until about 18.00.
Sitting in the warm sun and feeling the heat refreshes the spirit, warms the soul and the cockles of heart, but in case you think we're smug or complacent, we know that it's too soon to last, with rain and snow on the radar in the next few days.
© Marie Tyler, 2014
Happy New Year 2014! New Years past and present
And a belated Happy New Year to all my readers!
Or, as we say here - "Meilleurs Voeux" - 'Best Wishes', sometimes "Bonne Année" and added to that everyone seems to add "Bonne Santé - surtout Bonne Santé, parce que ça c'est la plus importante" - 'Good Health, especially Good Health, because that's the most important.'
The first person who wished me that, I thought that was their particular good year wishes, but I soon realised that everyone added the good health above all, stressing it with absolute sincerity and seriousness. Maybe there's something I haven't discovered yet about keeping good health locally. Mind you - having suffered from a cold which lasted about five weeks without relenting - also passing it on to Harry who never suffers colds - maybe there's something in the Chambertois air that we haven't yet discovered.
When I was growing up in the North East, there were various New Year customs. Apart from celebrating the New Year with friends, family, song, dance (everyone doing their bit to contribute to the entertainment), food and drink, there was 'first footing'. The first person into the house after midnight had to be possessed of a lump of coal which was to bring you good fortune in the sense that you would always be able to keep warm - the 'Long may your lum reek' idea imported from over the border. If there was a celebration in the house and people were impatient for the first foot, some unlucky person - preferably a dark-headed male I seem to think as they brought better fortune - would be sent out, maybe just before midnight, to lurk about in the cold back yard, and knock at the door with a lump of coal just after midnight. On New Year's Day, called 'Newres Day' by my dad and still now by a lot of people in the North East - you would be asked 'Who was your first foot?'.
The other tradition that persisted where we lived until a few years ago, was that where you saw a light on in someone's house on New Year's Eve or after midnight, you could knock on the door, or maybe just go in, and join in their celebrations with a New Year drink, whether or not you knew them. I suspect that particular tradition has now gone in most places.
Another tradition in our family and community, maybe now gone was to offer a New Year's drink with a slice of Christmas cake to anyone who made their first visit to your house in the New Year. Children were included and their drink would be a small glass of home-made ginger wine. The toast was 'All the best! Here's wishing you all you would wish yourselves .' Sometimes with the addition of ' . . . health, wealth and happiness.' A tradition I love and we still keep up the tradition, asking New Year callers what they would like for their New Year drink.
And so to other New Year wishes in Chamberet - last year in early January we noticed there was to be some sort of event at the Salle de Fêtes (Community Centre) which we knew we had missed out on our first January here. (We live about 100 metres from the Salle de Fêtes so often notice if there's a happenning there.) This was and is a celebration where the Mayor and councillors of our commune (a sort of equivalent of the Parish Council) present their good wishes for the New Year to the local community. It was a lovely event - everybody and their granny seemed to be there, wishing each other 'Happy New Year!' or maybe "Meilleurs Voeux!" with the usual kissing on both cheeks and shaking of hands. The Mayor then spoke for a good 45 minutes on the past year's events and forthcoming events and projects. Everyone listened attentively to him, then another speaker from the Conseil Général (like the County Council), and then there were drinks and snacks, and more kissing and shaking of hands with people you might have missed before the speeches.
We live now in very much a widespread rural community, where most events are well attended and supported. We are also now members of two community groups ('associations') in our village, so now will be greeting more people than last year and looking forward to the forthcoming New Year wishes community celebration.
© Marie Tyler 2014
Or, as we say here - "Meilleurs Voeux" - 'Best Wishes', sometimes "Bonne Année" and added to that everyone seems to add "Bonne Santé - surtout Bonne Santé, parce que ça c'est la plus importante" - 'Good Health, especially Good Health, because that's the most important.'
The first person who wished me that, I thought that was their particular good year wishes, but I soon realised that everyone added the good health above all, stressing it with absolute sincerity and seriousness. Maybe there's something I haven't discovered yet about keeping good health locally. Mind you - having suffered from a cold which lasted about five weeks without relenting - also passing it on to Harry who never suffers colds - maybe there's something in the Chambertois air that we haven't yet discovered.
When I was growing up in the North East, there were various New Year customs. Apart from celebrating the New Year with friends, family, song, dance (everyone doing their bit to contribute to the entertainment), food and drink, there was 'first footing'. The first person into the house after midnight had to be possessed of a lump of coal which was to bring you good fortune in the sense that you would always be able to keep warm - the 'Long may your lum reek' idea imported from over the border. If there was a celebration in the house and people were impatient for the first foot, some unlucky person - preferably a dark-headed male I seem to think as they brought better fortune - would be sent out, maybe just before midnight, to lurk about in the cold back yard, and knock at the door with a lump of coal just after midnight. On New Year's Day, called 'Newres Day' by my dad and still now by a lot of people in the North East - you would be asked 'Who was your first foot?'.
The other tradition that persisted where we lived until a few years ago, was that where you saw a light on in someone's house on New Year's Eve or after midnight, you could knock on the door, or maybe just go in, and join in their celebrations with a New Year drink, whether or not you knew them. I suspect that particular tradition has now gone in most places.
Another tradition in our family and community, maybe now gone was to offer a New Year's drink with a slice of Christmas cake to anyone who made their first visit to your house in the New Year. Children were included and their drink would be a small glass of home-made ginger wine. The toast was 'All the best! Here's wishing you all you would wish yourselves .' Sometimes with the addition of ' . . . health, wealth and happiness.' A tradition I love and we still keep up the tradition, asking New Year callers what they would like for their New Year drink.
And so to other New Year wishes in Chamberet - last year in early January we noticed there was to be some sort of event at the Salle de Fêtes (Community Centre) which we knew we had missed out on our first January here. (We live about 100 metres from the Salle de Fêtes so often notice if there's a happenning there.) This was and is a celebration where the Mayor and councillors of our commune (a sort of equivalent of the Parish Council) present their good wishes for the New Year to the local community. It was a lovely event - everybody and their granny seemed to be there, wishing each other 'Happy New Year!' or maybe "Meilleurs Voeux!" with the usual kissing on both cheeks and shaking of hands. The Mayor then spoke for a good 45 minutes on the past year's events and forthcoming events and projects. Everyone listened attentively to him, then another speaker from the Conseil Général (like the County Council), and then there were drinks and snacks, and more kissing and shaking of hands with people you might have missed before the speeches.
We live now in very much a widespread rural community, where most events are well attended and supported. We are also now members of two community groups ('associations') in our village, so now will be greeting more people than last year and looking forward to the forthcoming New Year wishes community celebration.
© Marie Tyler 2014
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