Le Comte and I have been out and about. Despite
the searing 35C heat we ventured unarmed into the Ardeche. In fact, we were doing
reconnaissance on a small castle known as the Chateau d’Aujac. After all, who knows when we might need to move on to pastures,
salons and chambres new?
This castle is practically intact –
though le Comte envisages embarking
on several urgent works once settled in, including the installation of running
water. The well (= hole in the ground) idea is très charmante
but doesn’t really hack it in the 21st century.
Another urgent task should we take up residence, would be to get rid of the girl that goes round every hour
followed by hordes of people. I’m not sure I want everyone to know that the
only emergency exit when the enemy breaches the walls is…well, there isn’t one. Happily, though, I think the Chateau d’Aujac
has been lulled into a false sense of security. Despite perching on its hilltop for over eight centuries it has apparently never been attacked. Which means, as le Comte pointed out, the element of surprise is pretty much
guaranteed.
So the only question really, is how
to raise the army. We already know all the Chateau's vulnerable points (not many) because we
followed the girl round too and she told us. But I’ve insisted that should the need arise and le Comte decides that taking over the Chateau d’Aujac
is the way forward, then we need drones. No question. I’m not going in there
with the inhabitants pointing their guns through those purpose-built slits. So I’m planning
to have a word with Barack asap. As soon as he answers the phone, in fact.
On
the way home we took a little known back road that winds its way across
the mountains. Only unfortunately it seems the
back road is less unknown than previously and, on a particularly narrow
stretch, we met a little old lady driving a Toyota Yaris. What
the marketing people don’t tell you about the Yaris is that it's essentially a Dinky
car, except that instead of being made from metal (like Dinky) it’s made of reinforced plastic. On the front
seat next to the little old lady was a fluffy cat in a basket.
The reversing space was just behind her to the right – really very close – but she
turned the wheel the wrong way and went to the left, where there was
unfortunately a ditch and then a wall. Le Comte gesticulated
wildly (which meant STOP), but she misunderstood and did it again, digging the
plastic Yaris deeper into the ditch. We stopped and got out, then removed the
cat from the front seat so she could do the same. She was very upset and
prodded her phone hopefully but there was almost no signal.
Luckily we
were next to a house and in no time an assortment people had materialised – grandpa, father, daughter-in-law, grandson and later, grandma too. I was hoping the grandma might provide sandwiches, but no such luck. Together they pushed and pulled and got bits
of rope and planks and tree trunks which they placed under Yaris's wheels and bumpers.
A cyclist appeared and immediately dismounted so he could join in the pushing – or
pulling – as necessary. A man in an Audi zoomed round the bend and screeched to
a halt inches from the Yaris. But instead of waving his fist as Audi drivers often
do, he leapt out and instantly offered to help.
In almost no time Audi-man was taking the initiative. First he disappeared under the car and then
suddenly folded himself up inside it next to the cat. A rope was then attached to the front
bumper and the other end to a truck, which, fortunately, the house-people had
to hand. Then the Yaris, guided by Audi-man and encouraged by the family,
the cyclist, le Comte et moi-meme,
and the little old lady, rose out of the ditch and on to the road. The little
old lady was very concerned about her bodywork, but this turned out to be fine,
though there seemed to be a small leak underneath.
So it all goes to show that le Comte and I should venture beyond the
confines of Coldspot more often, as it really is very interesting out there.
Fine wines from Domaine de Saumarez |
Other news from Chateau
Coldspot is that le Comte and I have purchased
fine wines for our cellar to enhance our guests’ holiday experience (incase the
pool and the donkeys didn’t do it!) and make the Happy Holidaymakers even more
jolly. These are bio-wines from a small independent vineyard near Montpellier –
the Domaine de Saumarez – so, free from pesticides and really excellent. We can
even ship them to dear old Angleterre
and they will still be cheaper than you can buy them in Waitrose. I advise
everyone to put their orders in quickly, however, because if the Happy Holidaymakers don’t
drink them then le Comte and I certainly
will!