I’m interrupting my regular blog sequence to relate today’s events. Much in the way that the peace and quiet of Chatillon got interrupted, along with my bloody heart beat by a little excursion on the neighbours Quad!
The day started out pretty relaxed, I spent some time chatting to Tania online and we lazed about the house. Then, a quick drink was suggested as the neighbours were heading off to Paris. So a bottle was opened and we took a table and chairs out the back. Philippe (on the left) then wandered off and retuned with a 10L cask of Rose and we raided fridge for cheese/pate/etc etc. Philippe then commandered our kitchen and cooked up some basic french vegie fare. Add some bread, cold meats and you’ve suddenly got a feast on you hands.
(Our guests don’t speak any english) so it’s up to us to work on our French!
Then the electrician arrives, he was meant to working on the bahroom, but his dog’s died, his wife’s upset, so he sits down, wine is poured, cigarettes are lit and well… this is France!
So next thing I know Philippe is saying something about his Quad and I’m following him into the barn where it is stored. He starts it up and gestures for me to hop on behind. So I think sure, a quick tour around the block. Nevermind the lack of helmet, such things aren’t really taken much notice of here.
But it’s not just around the block! We go screaming through the streets of the village, then out, across the main bridge and down along the river bank. Philippe knows all the spots, so we’re soon plowing through foot deep muddy waters and careening along paths. I’m not shy in saying I was scared shitless!
I managed to get him to stop somewhere along the riverbank on the pretense of needing a cig. Then indicated that I’d like to drive. Anything to be in control! I drove for a bit and started to get the hang of it, but it’s hard work riding one of these things. Another driver swap (I’m sure he was getting frustrated at the lack of speed) and we’re screaming off down more obscure laneways and out into the countryside. I’m trying to say slow down and he just grins and guns it!
All of a sudden we’re in the country, passing farms and cows and fields of corn. I’d pretty much passed my limit and wante dto head back, so I stopped him and asked for another drive, intending to head straight back to the village, bt of course, I’m lost and he just grins and points. Well it was one hell of a roundabout way to get back. Along boggy country lanes, bouncing all over the place, mud spraying everywhere. Flying down little country roads and eventually, yes eventually I recognise where we are and ignore his gestures o explore, “J’returne l’maison’ I say! Fuck knows if it’s correct, but he understands. We drive back into the village, back through the courtyard of L’Ecu and my heart can finally slow down.
I guess I came back in one piece, so it’s a fun adventure. But hell, remind me next time, it really helps if you and your driver have at least a few words in the same language that you can communicate with!
Philippe offers me the keys. he’s away for the week. Take it, drive it he says. But I can only say, “Non, Merci”
If there’s one thing about France, the people are damn hospitable.