Carte Postale de
France
By Kent Barker
I have a theory that
Facebook has killed the holiday postcard.
I mean, who sends them anymore? These days all you see are people
wandering around with their pads and phones desperately looking for available
Wi-Fi - or as they call it here in France Wee-Fee - in order to update their social
media sites with holiday snaps.
So I decided
to break this modern habit and send some post cards. Poor Aunt Agatha, she’s not been well
recently, and I thought she’d appreciate hearing from us. The trouble is I have just come across the
pile at the bottom of my suitcase having failed to post them. However Agatha’s loss is your gain for here is
what I meant to send:
Tuesday, somewhere south of Le Mans.
Dear AA, just a quick PC to let you know we’ve arrived safely
and are overnighting at a wonderful old chateau in a little village around the
Loire. It has ivy covering all the walls
and most of the windows. Madame greeted
us in bare feet and took us down some dusty corridors to a room in the East
Wing which looked like a store for all their redundant furniture. The bathroom was magnificent though, covered
from floor to ceiling with marble tiles. In fact I think it was the only room
that had been updated in this, or probably the last, century. Trip Advisor described it as quirky. We loved it.
Thursday, a little village South of Carcassonne.
Dearest Aunt, we’ve now arrived at the house we are renting
in this hill-top village with wonderful views to the Pyrenees. I’m not sure Les Anglais are very popular
round here. In the 13th
Century the 5th Earl Of Leicester, Simon de Montfort, came for a
visit and started slaughtering the locals.
In the nearby town of Bram he rounded up every Cathar, put out their
eyes and cut off their noses! It’s sad
to think that religious tolerance hasn’t advanced much in 800 years. The house is nice even if the plumbing is a
bit suspect. Every time you empty the bath it floods the bedroom. Sorry to hear
about your fall. Yr affectionate nephew, K.
Sunday, on the Canal du Midi.
Went for a drive and stopped at a
café on the canal. It was blistering hot
with no shade as nearly all the 42,000 magnificent Plane Trees that used to
line the banks have died and been cut down.
It’s a terrible tragedy and makes our Ash dieback pale in comparison.
(By the way whatever happened to Ash dieback you hardly ever hear of it any
more?). The canal though remains a stunning achievement – built in just 15
years it’s 240 kilometers long, linking the Atlantic with the Mediterranean. In
Beziers it flows up 9 locks in a row and across an aqueduct over the river Orb.
Poor old Pierre-Paul Riquet who engineered
it died eight months before it was completed in 1681. Some people just don’t have any luck. Hope your leg is getting better. Love K
Tuesday
on the Aude
Hello
Auntie. Us again. In Limoux this time. A
town that has seen better days. Like
quite a few round here! Apparently they invented bubbly but then the nasty
vignerones in Champagne stole the idea and named it after their region. The dog was funny. I tied her to a sign outside a shop while I
went in to buy bread and she dragged it down the street! The baguette lady said
to bring her in next time. They’re odd
about dogs here. They’re allowed into
restaurants and food shops but no one ever picks up their mess. In fact you don’t seem to be able to buy poo
bags at all. And they cut off their
tails. Myrtle’s been having a wonderful time swimming in the rivers. People think she’s an otter. Bad news about the operation on your leg.
Still the sawbones are awfully good these days. Yr affct nphew. K.
Thursday
on the Mediterranean.
Hello
again. We’re at the seaside now and watching the water jousting. Funny sort of sport. Two men with shields and
lances stand on raised platforms on the backs of boats and they have to knock
each other into the water as they pass.
The games go on for hours and sometimes they get quite badly hurt. S says it’s a bit like cricket to which I replied,
yes but without the offside rule! You
know I’m not sure she got the joke. We’ll be home in a few days and will come
and visit you in hospital. Rotten luck
about the amputation. Still I hear
prosthetics are remarkably good these days.
France has been … well, rather French.
Lv fm yr nphw. K.
Now to
find some Wee-Fee to deliver this column!
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