lost helmet, hill forts, more homes

Wed 30/10/2013

It has been very windy again today, and quite cold. We had an hour of central heating on in the van, and I got up early and made a hot cup of tea. That helped.

Then I made my way into town to use the internet, and collect the parcel from Sarah. Many thanks for that. Connecting to the net brought good news.

Congratulations to Rachel for getting a distinction in her MFA, and to David on getting a BBC scholarship for his fees for the coming year. My results are out in two weeks’ time I think. I checked and nothing is posted yet from LSE.

I found the nearest motorcycle equipment stockist in Perpignan, about 45 minutes from here and downloaded directions from google. Then went to the post office – thanks Sarah, the parcel arrived and I spent the next two hours struggling to set up mobile internet. No luck, something to do with contacting the service provider to remove some kind of block. I return with some flowers from the market for Carol. To celebrate Rachel’s results, or David’s scholarship, or to say sorry for losing her bike helmet. Maybe all three. Maybe one shouldn’t need a reason to buy flowers.

Then despite the cold gusty winds, we set off for a walk from the van over the top of the hill. There are great views over the vineyards to Argeles. There is a hill fort in the distance we shall try and find a route for. We continued our walk almost into town, and then back with the sun setting. Lots of new vans in our site on our return.

Tomorrow to Perpignan to buy a new crash helmet for Carol.

Thursday 31/10/2013

I have to go into Perpignan alone, since we only have one crash helmet, and I manage to find my way in with the help of the Chinese American satnav lady speaking into one ear via a set of ear phones. Why does the sound only come through one side? Why does the sat nav instructions get punctuated with strange electronic pings and whooshes? Why do I have to take the fifth exit from the roundabout when there are only four exits? No answer to these conundrums, but it helps to sometimes ignore obvious problems and head for the commercial sector of a town.

The lady in the shop shows me about four helmets and says these are the only ones in size 55cm, so I buy an open face helmet of good quality on their sale with the promise that it can be exchanged after trying it on.

When I get back to Collioure, Carol has walked into town and has been taking photos at the harbour and of small sailing boats, and we meet at the children’s playground. 

After lunch we both head back to the motorcycle accessories shop, and Carol complains that the helmet is hurting her head; obviously not the right shape for her. We spend about a decade in the shop and Carol has tried on every helmet on the shelves, some about 14 times. The grey one fits best, but lacks butterflies and a slide down sun visor. Eventually we settle for the matt grey, which is a great full-face helmet, and a good jacket to match. 

I buy the small windscreen that I was eyeing out in the morning. The man in the shop tells us it is illegal to ride a motorcycle at night without 4 reflective stickers, placed front and back and to each side of the helmet.

When we get home it is starting to get dark, and there is no light to mount the windscreen, so I fix some stickers instead.

Friday 1/11/2013

I phone the estate agents early but no reply, so I leave a message, in the hope of arranging some more viewings.

I then spend an hour or so mounting the screen, fiddling with various combinations of the fixing plates until I get a good fit. 

Then we decide that we should really do our weekly wash, and head off to the laundrette at Collioure. It is shut, for a whole month for some reason. 

We try Port Vendre, and Carol has loaded a machine in their strange ‘plein-aire lavarie’ before I decipher a sign saying it is not in use and being serviced. So third time lucky as we head for Argeles sur mer. The police station is manned and the tourist office closed, but the gendarme gives me a map and sets me off in the right direction.

We use the 40 minute wash cycle to treat ourselves to lunch out, since I am now hungry, and a local restaurant gives us a fine country salad with all sorts of bits in it, and a pizza with ham and chorizo. The beers put us in a good mood, and we end up not quite drying anything in the laundrette. Beer affects your judgment, did you know? Back home to hang everything up in the sun.

We then set off and explore the town’s heights as Carol is sure we can get to the fort overlooking the town, by walking up from the windmill. I think we can drive up. We are both right, and I find the little track with a steep gradient and the bike dutifully pulls us up. 

There is a small tourist land train that goes up the same route. Stunning views over Collioure and Port Vendre reward us.

Coming down we see the track connects with the next village, Port Vendre, so we go down this way. 

None of the shops are open but we pop into Lidl which is bucking the trend and get milk and bread. We resist the pointed Halloween witch’s hat. No pumpkins either.

Saturday 2/11/2013

We head back to Lidl to do the weekly shop. When we get there we take a trolley since there are no baskets – bad mistake. Despite the presence of two motorcycle helmets in the trolley we are affected by the size of the trolley and forget that we have to carry everything home. The trolley somehow gets completely filled; we simply have to have some fur lined wellington boots, obviously. And whisky, and 10 year old port, and a few large bottles of water, oh yes and lemonade 6 pack, and a coke six pack. What were we thinking? The Renault Scenic is in Reading, and it is not very convenient to stagger out of the shops with 80kg of groceries and only two rucksacks and a very small motorbike.

We try out various combinations, but there is no getting away from the fact that it is probably impossible, and possibly illegal to attempt to carry it all home in one go. Carol now needs the loo; she is adamant she is not riding the bike back alone with half the groceries. She stays behind, and I set off home with the first load; a rucksack that weighs, oh, the equivalent of what the SAS carry when out on exercise. I drop this lot off, and return with a cargo net and two other rucksacks, and we eventually get home (Carol has still got dry knickers, phew) I have to take a photo of all our shopping. 

We spent over €100. We filled 4 rucksacks. Coming home I am trying to find the rear brake pedal with my right foot, and the bag on the petrol tank means I have no way of reaching it. Fortunately we are going at the speed of the fastest moped at this stage.

The lady from the estate agency calls me to say we can look at two houses this afternoon, so we rapidly unpack, have lunch and set off for Céret, which is 30 minutes away. She is surprised we had forgotten that 1^st November – all saints day, is a holiday in France too.

We love the setting of the village house in Céret, which is opposite the rugby stadium and next to the sixth form college, the Lysée. Both are closed today, so we have no appreciation of the noise factor, and the house scores hugely on convenience. 

Town centre with bars and restaurants is 5 minutes walk, and there is a garden with fruit trees. We help ourselves to a few grapefruit. The house is lovely, although the décor is about 40 years out of date. Charming though.

The next house is in Amélie les bains Pallalda. Les Bains means ‘the baths’, a thermal spa town, where one can still get sent for ‘the cure’ in the spa on the French health service. A little like Bath in England where the famous rheumatology centre is located.

The house is being sold because of a divorce, and is huge. There is plenty of living space downstairs, and the whole upstairs section has its own entrance and stairway and is let out to people coming to take the waters. It generates income – handy too. I like it, but Carol was not so sure. It had been extensively refurbished, with double-glazing, a climate control system, central heating, a mix of limestone tiled floors, and wooden floors, and modern bathroom and kitchen. 

Quite a Catalan influence with orange and yellow tiles and cupboards in the kitchen, the regional colours. A fenced-off swimming pool, and mountain water coming down past the side of the garden for plant irrigation. A lovely terrace outside the kitchen, and a formal dining area off towards the lounge. Large parking area, and a sort of studio which could be a painting room, and a sewing room to boot. 

40 minutes from the sea. Perhaps a bit far into the mountains.

On the ride home, a lovely orange and then pink sunset, and the wind has died down. The wind screen helps riding back on the larger autoroute, where the speed limit is 110 or 66mph. Amazingly the little bike just hits 110 with two up, but the wind does catch the rider’s helmet.

I am definitely of the opinion that I could live here for 10 years or more.

By the by here are 10 uses for duct tape

11   winding around bicycle handlebars before mounting a basket for better grip

22   taping on a broken lock, to prevent the lock from falling out

33   taping an allen key to a bike basket to use to release or tighten the basket

44   fastening a satnav to motorcycle handlebars, in a plastic zip up wallet

55   fixing a broken bumper on a campervan

66   fixing a roller blind

77   making a thumb splint for a sprain or acute arthritis

88   taping a thermometer to an interior wall on van

99   fixing a broken watchstrap

110  making an inner lining for a beach bag