Tails From Provence
What happens when a horsemad Ould Wagon moves from Cork to Provence with 2 horses, 2 dogs and a Long Suffering Husband? Why, she gets a third dog, discovers Natural Horsemanship à la Française, starts writing short stories and then discovers a long-buried talent for art, of course…
The Word of the moment – Canicule
France is in the grip of a heatwave right now. The temperature in the shade gets up to 35C (95F) in the afternoons, and it’s over the 50C (120F) mark if you’re out in the sun.
The French press were all talking about the vague de chaleur, which translates literally as ‘wave of heat’, but they also used the word canicule. The meaning was obvious from the context, but I wondered where the word canicule comes from (I’m a nosy curious person). Canis is dog in Latin, so does canicule have something to do with dogs? I wondered.
I looked it up. It’s interesting – well, dammit, I found it interesting.
La Canicule is the French name for Sirius, the dog star. It’s also the name for the period during which Sirius rises and sets with the sun – July 24th to August 24th. Well, that’s the time during which the highest temperatures will normally happen, so the heatwave you’d have at that time was referred to as La Canicule, and now it’s accepted to mean a heatwave at any time. A bit like the English expression ‘dog days,’ actually.
If you want to thank me for clarifying that, you’ll find me in the pool.
Look what I found!
As I drove up to the horses this morning, I spotted something in the middle of the road just outside Reillanne.
Was that a — ? Surely not! They are found wild in this area, but…
I stopped, as did a car which was going in the other direction. The driver reversed back to me, passing the ‘thing’ on the way, and said
“Oui, c’est une tortue!”
Literally in the middle of the road
I said I would move it into the woods and he continued on his way, leaving me to deal with it.
There was a part of me which would have LOVED to bring this guy home, but I don’t think he would live a happy life in our garden with Cookie there to terrierise him.
So I lifted the him (her?) up.
He was very confident being handled, which is what our friends whose garden is regularly visited by tortoises said – they have no predators here, so they are quite unafraid.
I set him down in the woods at the side of the road…
…wished him Bonne Route and carried on up the hill to the horses.
Au revoir, little dude!
A large truck came rattling down the hill as I went up, and I was glad that I had moved him to safety. I am pretty sure he wouldn’t have survived it.
Mr and Mrs Endurance arrived at the farm ten minutes after me.
“Guess what we found on the road?” they said.
Yes, you guessed right.
They, however, had picked him up and put him in their jeep, thinking that he was probably a lost pet. Surprising how many of the locals don’t know that tortoises are native to the region. Hermann’s Tortoise, to be precise.
They put him in a stable with water and some carrots while Mr Endurance shod their horses (he’s a farrier), and they planned to release him in the woods on the other side of the road on their way home. We’re assuming that was where he was heading all along until I picked him up, you see.
So cute!
Hopefully I will not see him squished on the road tomorrow morning.
The Final Anniversary Hooley
Eleven years ago, most of my extended family went up in a hot air balloon to celebrate Granny’s 70th birthday.
Granny eleven years ago
Two people did not fly – my eldest daughter, who has a fear of heights I knew nothing about until then, and the LSH, who was suffering the after-effects of eating chicken that tasted like fish (never a good thing). I had been racking my brains for an idea for a really good anniversary present for him and then, one morning when I was on my way up to the horses, I saw this.
BING! Inspiration!
I visited the France Montgolfière website, checked the prices, whistled through my teeth but booked it anyway. After all, it was a Significant Anniversary that ends with a Zero. It needed to be celebrated well. Last Saturday was the day. We were to meet in the Place de Bourget in Forcalquier at 5.45.
Dawn Sky
We were quite surprised at the number of people present, much more than had been there the other time I did this. There was a large group of deaf people there, but it turned out that not all of them were flying, some of them had just come along to watch.
You can get an idea of the scale of the operation :
At six o clock (ish) we were all rounded up, loaded into the landrovers and driven to the launch site at Ongles.
There was plenty of time for tea and coffee and wandering around as we watched the balloons being unloaded and inflated.
This is the gondola of our balloon. It carries up to twenty people, making it the second biggest balloon in France. Gondola is nacelle in French – how very Star Trek!
The LSH and I even had time to pose for a cheesy photo.
I videoed the whole inflation process :
Our pilot gave us a safety briefing, including demonstrating ‘landing position.’
This is not landing position!
Then we all climbed on board – eighteen of us – and it was up up and away…
But OMG – what happened the top half of our balloon???
Phew! It’s still there!
We flew over the other balloon as it took off.
The other balloon then starred in loads of photographs.
It was very photogenic!
It was lovely flying over an area that I know well and picking out the landmarks.
Mont Ventoux. The village in the lower left is Banon, where I go for yoga every Friday morning.
Limans, where our friend Gabi lives. Gabi has a language school in Forcalquier.
The Grand Luberon in the background and a very familiar hill in the foreground…
Previous photo zoomed in – this is GAEC de Pimayon, where my horses live! The red dot is the big shed and the purple patch is the lavender field that figures in my header image!
Forcalquier, where we started our morning
The viaduct going into Forcalquier. You really don’t notice how striking this bridge is when you drive over it. It was originally a railway bridge but it’s now for cars.
The other balloon posing beautifully over Forcalquier.
The village of Mane, topped by an ancient château.
Mane again. The building in the top right section is the Abbaye de Salagon. The building right in the middle is our friends’ house. But wait – let’s zoom in again…
Sprocket and Doodles were out on the road waving at us, dogs and all!
After just over an hour, we eventually landed in a field near some sheep.
Four people were asked to disembark straight away in order to lighten the load. The LSH was one of them, so he got some lovely landing photos.
The owner of the sheep came zooming over to us on his quad about five minutes after we touched down. Was he annoyed, I wondered. No, the pilot told us he was a friend and that he had flown with them several times. I guess they give the local landowners a lot of freebies to keep them sweet! Anway, the farmer wanted them to move the balloon away from the sheep, so they hitched a rope onto the quad and he towed it away.
You get a good idea of the scale of this thing!
Helping to move the balloon. See the sheep in the background?
When everyone had disembarked, it was all hands on deck to help roll up the balloon.
There was a real feel good factor after the flight; everybody was more than happy to participate.
After that, we had complimentary champagne (well, bau, the local equivalent) and the crew tried to sell us merchandise. We ordered a photo. I’ll share it here when it arrives.
Sprocket and Doodles had invited us for breakfast, so we jumped out of the land rover transport as we drove through Mane and walked to their house. French toast à la Sprocket – most excellent. The perfect end to a morning to remember.
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