Wednesday 21 September 2016

Rip Off Taxis in Limoux and The Truck of Shame



Kitty Cate looking out over Aubrac - Happy Days

Like when we’re cruising, there’s always something quite nice about heading somewhere familiar so we were quite excited to leave our old cheese farm in the Aubrac and head southwards for Puylauren.  We’d visited Puylauren in February on a day’s jolly in a hire car from Carcassonne and liked it as a town, and it fitted the bill for a halfway stop between Aubrac and Limoux, south of Carcassonne which was where our next important event was happening.  Another hot day, we had a good drive southwards, although the satnav tried to take us there via farm tracks initially, and we arrived at Cap de Castel, our hotel at Puylaurens in time for an afternoon swim before dinner.  The following morning in blistering heat we set off for Limoux, deciding we would see if we had time to stop at Carcassonne en route.  We did and had a quick walk round the port and into Monoprix for some water and bite cream, though it wasn’t the same without Xenia being moored there with our friends Charles and Pam on board – the port was quite empty, though we saw a couple of boats going through the lock.

We reached our accommodation, La Moneze Basse, just before 1pm, a little earlier than the norm but we had pre-arranged this with Jeremey, our host, as we had booked Sunday lunch at our favourite wine domaine, Domaine Gayda, for 2pm.  As we both wanted to enjoy some of our favourite wine, Chemin de Moscou, with our meal, Jeremy had kindly booked us a taxi to get us there and we planned to arrange for a pick-up once there.  We quickly showered and changed and the taxi turned up at 1.20pm despite being booked for 1.30pm.  When we got into the taxi at 1.30pm on the dot (I know because I checked my phone for the time), there was already 8 euros on the clock!  We headed off, looking forward to our meal but getting increasingly concerned at the rate the meter was clocking up, 10 cents a second!!  Jeremy’s parting words had been, “The taxi should be around 20 euros, maybe a little more because it’s Sunday, so be careful and don’t let the driver rip you off – they can be bad for that in Limoux.”  By the time we reached Gayda, 11 minutes and 10km later, the meter read 40 euros 60!!!!!  I thought the guy would probably then press a button and say, okay 25 euros please but he didn’t.  He pointed at the meter.  I looked aghast and in French exclaimed, “No!!!  It’s too expensive.  Our host at the hotel told us 20 euro, perhaps a little more.”  “No,” he said.  “40 euros.”  “It’s too expensive!!”  I said again.  He gave a gallic shrug, “It’s Sunday.”  “It’s too EXPENSIVE!!”.  “It’s a surprise to you????”, “A big surprise.  We have no money to get back now.”  With a gallic shrug, he took 40 euros out of Mike’s hand, said goodbye and left.  We tried not to let it spoil our gorgeous meal and wine at Gayda, but it had left a bitter taste in our mouths and we were not looking forward to the two-hour walk home in the searing heat.
A favourite view from our table at Domaine Gayda
As the restaurant emptied, I clocked that one table leaving was English ex-pats, so we quickly paid and caught up with them on the stairs. “Sorry to be incredibly rude, but I don’t suppose you’re going back to Limoux?  It’s just we were charged 40 euros for a taxi to get here and don’t have enough to get back.”  They weren’t going to Limoux, going the opposite direction in fact, but said yes, of course they would give us a lift.  My faith in human nature restored, we climbed in the back of their car and had a good chat about living in France on the way.  They dropped us at Limoux and we walked 20 minutes back to the b&B where we told Jeremy what had happened.  He was horrified and embarrassed because he felt responsible as it was him that had booked the taxi.  Mike promptly penned an email off to the Mairie (Mayor) of Limoux and Jeremy suggested we go and report it to the Tourist Office in the morning as he intended to do so himself.  Jeremy wrote a very strongly-worded email to the Tourist Office and we called in the next day where we were told to put it in writing and they’d look into it.  We did, and whilst we never ever got a reply of any kind from the Mairie, the Tourist Office responded that these fares were regulated and the driver had actually charged a slightly lower rate than he should have!!!!  So, does the town of Limoux in France have the world’s most expensive taxi fares?  Or do you know different – I’m thinking of setting up an online survey……..

On leaving the Limoux Tourist Office, still with a sour taste in our mouths sadly, we set the satnav for Moissac, to the west of Limoux where we would meet up with Charles and Pam on Xenia for a couple of days.  We thought about going cross county, avoiding the toll roads but it doubled the journey time, so we settled in for a couple of hours motorway driving.  Cate behaved well until we stopped to get a ticket at one of the tolls.  As Mike approached, she conked out completely and wouldn’t start again.  The benefit of such a light-weight car is that I can push her myself, so as a queue built up behind us and she wasn’t for starting, I quickly pushed her out of the way and to the side.  As I pushed, Mike tried to jump-start her and it worked, so I leapt in and we were off again, albeit nervously wondering what would happen at the next toll.  She behaved fine until we reached Moissac, and as we went up and down the quai looking for Xenia, she conked out, but this time she wouldn’t jump-start and we pushed her into a parking space and went to see Pam and Charles.  We weren’t in the best frame of minds as the stress of not being able to find them initially, then the car conking out was enough to make us fall out – rare, I know, but it’s usually these things that do it!  However, after a lovely lunch, a couple of glasses of wine, we felt more relaxed and headed off to check into our accommodation, which looked over the canal.
Enjoying Xenai, Pam and Charles on the River Tarn

First try of our 8 euro keg of merlot - rather nice it was too!

The port on the canal at Moissac

Stormy clouds gathering over the Moulin de Moissac
In hindsight, we probably should have tried to get the car to a garage at this point as we were here for two nights which would be plenty time to have her looked at, started, but we wanted to forget our troubles, so rested up for a couple of hours then went back to Xenia for a BBQ in the evening.  The next day we were going cruising so we pitched up at Xenia around 11am and headed off upstream to find a mooring for a few hours to enjoy a swim and lunch.  It was lovely being onboard Xenia and made me realise how much Quaintrelle rolls!!
Captain Charles and Cabin Boy Mike
Mike dive-bombing

Me showing Mike how to do it better - and failing......
Three degrees of entering the water
It was a fantastic day and once we were back on land headed back to the B&B to freshen up before coming back to the quai as we’d all been invited on board Blue Gum for apperitifs at 6.30pm.  There we met Sally and Charles (who Mike discovered had lived at Knaresborough round about the same time as him!), and Lynn and Charlie from Acadia.  Charlie is very keen on cars and owns several MGs, so was happy to offer us a helping hand with Cate in the morning.  Mike was convinced it was the battery and would be fine once she was jump-started, but I wasn’t so sure.  Charlie had also spotted that a car shop up the road stocked our make of battery so we would check if they had our one in stock.  After lots of laughs and chats and apperitifs, we headed back to Xenia for some supper and a couple more glasses of wine, then poured ourselves home around 11pm – what a wonderful day we had had.

Next morning we convened around Cate where Charlie jump-started her first time.  Leaving her running, and now convinced it was a battery problem, I ran up to the car shop where they had a battery that looked identical to ours but was one digit out on the part number.  I showed the man our part number and with my limited French and his limited English, but lots of smiles, we learned it was the same battery, but intended for a tractor lawn mower hence the different digit!!  I ran back to Cate, jumped in and drove up to the shop.  Mike went in to the shop to look and I sat in the car, keeping her running.  As another pulled out of a space and we were blocking the garage entrance, I went to move her into the space.  As I put her in gear and went to move off, she conked out.  Dead.  Completely dead, not a cough or splutter.  We pushed her into the space and fitted the new battery just purchased.  By this time it was just gone 12 and the garage and shop had shut for lunch, but we should be off in a few minutes, just tighten those nuts………  “Okay, give her a try.” said Mike.  I did, and she started and I grinned with a “Yipppeeee….” which then faded to dismay as she sputtered out.  I tried again, same thing.  She would start, and then quickly dwindle off.  We couldn’t believe it.  The battery was fine, there was something else, we felt was fuel related as it seemed that fuel wasn’t getting through to keep her going.  We waited til everyone came back from lunch at 2pm and they were most surprised to see us still there, waiting in the rain (had I mentioned it was cold and wet?).  They checked the battery, checked fuses and that was the limit of their knowledge – it was just like a wee local Kwik Fit really, batteries and brakes.  The man at the shop was amazing.  He called another garage and a pick-up company and arranged for us to be taken there – in two or three hours.  So he invited us to wait in the shop where he made us a coffee and gave us an apple from the fridge!  Such kindness.  We waited.  And waited.  And waited.  And at 6pm he came and said they wouldn’t come now as the garage was closed.  The pick-up truck had had a busy day with lots of accidents on the wet roads – 30 we found out later!!  We had tried to get back into our lovely B&B but she was full, so the shop man pointed us to the hotel Le Chapon Fin – a two-star hotel in the town square.  It was clean and the man was very cheerful and the breakfast buffet very good but let’s just say the décor wouldn’t have been out of place in 1981.  It had good wifi though so I was able to watch Bake Off on the internet.  We were absolutely gutted as we should have been near the town of Pau, where our accommodation had wonderful views of the Pyrenees.  We were looking out at the covered market and public conveniences of Moissac – and that was on the good side……..  There was nothing we could do but get up sharp the next morning and head back to the shop and at least by morning the rain was gone and the sun was trying to put in an appearance.

“Une heure.”  Was the shop man’s time estimate for today but an hour later, still no truck.  He then reappeared and said he’d called someone else and they were on their way.  And so Cate ended her final trip with us on the Truck of Shame.
 
She's blushing furiously under that orange
At the specialist garage they tried all the electrical stuff they knew about to no avail.  Finally, in his “zero” English, the mechanic told us it was the engineering management unit.  We suggested something to do with the fuel but he poopoo-ed this.  They went off for lunch at 12 and we phoned our breakdown recovery which Mike had purchased for £34 when he insured the car.  Best £34 spent ever.  By the end of the afternoon they had arranged our repatriation to the UK via Easyjet Flights from Toulouse the next afternoon, and would arrange repatriation of Kitty Cate within the next couple of weeks.  The breakdown people spoke with the garage and made all the arrangements with them and we emptied the car and asked it they could get us a taxi into town.  The owner of the garage said he would be our taxi and took us back to Pam and Charles at the Quai.  I was starting to cry by now as I felt so bad leaving Kitty and so sad that our last time in her had ended in such a way.  Mike was counting the cost of what would now be our cancelled accommodation, losing deposits and the full cost of some we’d prepaid, but we thought we might be able to claim that back on our travel insurance.  By the time we reached Xenia I was sobbing loudly and unashamedly.  They were kind of gutted to see us as they hoped we’d be on our way, but we had a glass of wine and Pam insisted we stay for dinner as she had made a curry and there was enough to go around.  I ran up to our nice B&B to see if we could get in there but we couldn’t, she was full.  But such a lovely lady, when I told her our tale of woe, she invited me in, went online to the Tourist Office which posts available accommodation each night at 5pm and phoned one of the few places showing rooms.  But the rooms had been taken!  There was a festival on at the weekend and the town was filling up.  Even Chapon Fin was full!!!  I went back to relay this to Mike and Pam said we could stay with them, but there had been rooms at the Moulin de Moissac, the number one hotel in Moissac, just at the end of the Quai.  Thing is, they were 105 euros a night and our lovely B&B had just been 53 euros and we knew the hotel wouldn’t be as nice…….  Mike went across to the Moulin and got us a room in there and it was fine.  It was a bit dated in décor (hallway painted bloodred!!) but clean and the room was spacious, air-conditioned and had a bath.  Knowing we were sorted, we were able to relax a bit and enjoyed our extra time with Pam and Charles.

A taxi picked us up the next morning and took us to Toulouse airport, where we somehow managed to miss the Easyjet Baggage Handlers strike and our flight was not one of 70 cancelled elsewhere in France!  It was an hour late getting us into Gatwick where we were picked up by another taxi and taken the two-hour drive back to Quaintrelle at Roydon marina (told you, best £34 ever spent!).  It felt nice to be back on board, but weird staying in a marina and wrong that we were back too soon without Kitty Cate.  The thing is, we should have been taking her to the Caterham Dealer yesterday (Tuesday) to agree a price and hand her over, but instead Mike had to tell them she’d be dropped off by truck on the 4/5th October and will need some work done.  When he told them the mechanic said it was the EMU, they said it was highly unlikely as they never go.  They’ve only ever had to replace them when one’s been bent up in a crash on the racing Caterhams!  When Mike told him what was happening, he immediately said it sounded like something fuel related.  We just KNOW that when she gets back, they’ll tweak something and she’ll start…………

Anyway, back at Roydon, we spent our extra days at home doing lots of laundry whilst on hook up, Mike did all the paperwork for the insurers for the car and for getting our lost holiday costs back (this took him two days!!) and I have been slowly catching up with the blog – imagine if I’d done the last three entries in one go!!!  On Tuesday we washed the boat, filled with water, pumped out and left the marina.  It felt good.  We travelled up two locks, cruised for 5 minutes then moored up on the towpath.  It felt nice to be out on the towpath again and it’s a pretty area of the River Stort, which is more like a canal.  We’re staying put tonight as well as we are awaiting the arrival of additional crew.  James is joining us for the next few days as he grew up in Bishop Stortford and fancied seeing his old stomping grounds from the waterway.  We’re looking forward to having someone to help with the locks……..

Coming up the lock that takes us out of the lake-based marina
Yay - on the move on new waterways for us!
Good timing on the next lock.  They may look like doubles but they're not, they're about one and a half width so you can't lock share and have to open both gates to get in and out :(

Our mooring at Roydon, five minutes from the marina!


Not only did my plants survive while we were away - look at my chillies!!!!

Friday 9 September 2016

France and the Fannies



(More time-manipulation, sorry - getting there......teach me to be a lazy-assed-sh!t...)  
Our next day’s driving was mainly on the motorway, so not much fun and we had to pay for the pleasure.  However, the roads in France are generally in much better condition than the UK and the toll roads usually quiet, and with a speed limit of 130KPH in dry weather Kitty Cate raced along and in a few hours with a brief stop at Le Mans for a look and an ice cream, we were at our next night’s accommodation.
Le Mans tram in the square

Chateau de Chambier - not too shabby at all
 We knew the first couple of days would be pretty boring driving until we reached the Dordogne where we would then only have an hour or two between accommodations and could take our time and explore, as we hadn’t been to this part of France before.  Our next stop was at the very pretty seaside town of La Rochelle, where the only thing to do, having been land-lubbed for a few days, was take a boat trip!!
The very pretty Old Port at La Rochelle

Fort Boyard
Entrance to the Old Port from the sea side
We both really liked La Rochelle, it’s a pretty town with a great waterfront and a nice ambience about it.  We agreed that it would be somewhere we wouldn’t mind living in or around even though it was on the Atlantic coast rather than the Med.  The next day was a shorter drive to the small town of St Jean de Blaignac so we went off the beaten track a bit and stopped off to visit St Emilion.  On arrival at our chateau late afternoon, we made use of the pool before heading off for dinner. Dinner was a first for me as the tiny village hosts a Michelin Starred Restaurant, “Auberg Saint Jean” and as it was only a five minute walk from our chateau, why not?  It was amazing.  I loved it.  I want to live there.  This was one of our favourite stops of the holiday, everything was just lovely; the chateau had one of the most tasteful renovations we’ve ever seen, merging the old with the new beautifully, a lovely pool, a room overlooking the Dordogne River and a great meal and wine a five minute walk away all in a really beautiful area.  Only an hour’s drive from Bordeaux, a little bit more to the coast and a couple of hours to skiing in the mountains, we decided we could also quite happily live there.  Our plans to eliminate areas for living were quickly going down the tube as we were now adding more on!!!
St Emilion - a pilgrimage for wine lovers

The gorgeous Chateau Courtebotte - or Corkbottle as Mike calls it.........
We continued to follow the Dordogne the next day passing through some glorious countryside and stunning little villages with their clifftop castles on our way to our most expensive accommodation of the holiday, thanks to Mike spotting it in the Guardian’s Top Ten Places to Stay in France.  Le Vieux Logis proved to be worth every penny, it’s gorgeous and we were very impressed when the receptionist excitedly told us we would be staying in the Arthur Millar room, named because he had come to stay three nights, once upon a time, and stayed a month!!  Mike was fantasising whether he had Marilyn there with him when we decided to check our receptionist’s facts and discovered that it was in fact the writer HENRY Millar, not Arthur that had stayed there……….
No trip to the Dordogne would be complete without dropping in to see Cyrano at Bergerac
Another lovely village with its Abbey
NOT Arthur Millar's bedroom.....
View down the garden from Henry Millar's room


Unfortunately dinner didn’t quite match up to our accommodation…. They did have a Michelin Starred Restaurant which was incredibly expensive and besides, we’d just had a Michelin Starred meal the night before, so hoped to eat at their Bistro, which was booked up.  We ended up having a burger at the little fast-food place across the street – and a bottle of wine.

We were spoiled for choice the next day where to go and what to do but settled on lunch at and a visit to Chateau des Milandes, once the home of Josephine Baker and now restored and run as a museum of her story.  Some of the rooms are as they were when she lived there, the bathrooms were absolutely amazing, and others house the museum which includes some of her costumes that were found in suitcases in the cellar!!!  The cellar had been flooded a few times over the years, so some of the costumes showed a bit of wear and tear, but amazing that they survived.  Her story is very interesting going from the slums of St Louis, Missouri, to top entertainer, to being active in the Civil Rights Movement, an agent for the French during WWII, creating a rainbow tribe family, to going bankrupt and losing everything.  She passed away in 1975 after a sell-out comeback show.
Unfortunately you're not allowed to take any photos at all inside the house.
But they have a great bird of prey team and display.
We spent that night in Sarlat le Caneda, a reasonably sized town which we wouldn’t mind having as our ‘bigger town nearby’ should we move to this area.

The next day, the sun beat down again and we were keen to get on the river.  We failed to find canoes at the first town we came to but headed on and soon crossed the river and saw a canoe sign.  We managed to canoe probably the prettiest stretch of the Dordogne, stopping off for a swim under the gaze of clifftop castles and dwellings.  The river was really clear and cool and quite fast-flowing in bits which made for a bit of fun.
Rapids!!!!

This could be Beynac, but I think it's the other village en route that I can't remember the name of and the maps are in the car, which is still in France - more about that later.....
THIS is definitely Beynac - can you spot me swimming??
Then it was back into the car for a couple of hours on the road to our next stop.  This seemed to be the longest two hours of the week as the tiny windy road climbed mountains and went down gorges.  All very nice, but we were getting quite tired and ready for a rest, so we were pleased when we finally reached our accommodation and its pool, near the historic village of Rocamadour.  We swam and read and then drove the 10 minutes to the nearest restaurant, La Troubadour, which was lovely.  Mike felt very French ordering just a half bottle of wine, as I was driving.  After breakfast the next day we made use of the internet and booked up the last of our hotels for our journey back up north to the Chunnel in a week’s time.  We were spending another night here so could take our time heading out to sightsee.  As we left at the hottest part of the day we decided to visit one of the caves the area is famous for, Gouffre de Padirac.  It was a good move as it was quiet cos it was lunchtime and it was deliciously cold!!
More horrible accommodation

Getting cooler the deeper you go

And then a boat takes you right into the caves - where you're not allowed to take any photos so we bought the tacky souvenir one!
Rocamadour clinging to the cliff side
We then headed into Rocamadour for a wander before heading back for a swim and a short drive out to another restaurant for dinner.  It was another hot night, but a different story in the morning, as I looked out at the drizzle remembering last night’s conversation as we came back from dinner, “Should we put the hood on the car?”, “No.  I mean, it’s not going to rain, is it???”  (My part of the conversation was the latter……).  Not only was it very wet, it was quite cool, so I put a jumper on and we dried the wet seats and put the hood on the car.  It’s not a great car in wet weather but at least we had the hood and the heating to keep us warm.  We were heading into real rural France today, so filled up with petrol and checked our emergency stash of wine in the car was intact – you never know.  We cheered ourselves up with a visit to a laundrette and finished off the bag of M&S toffees I found in my handbag.  I can’t remember the town we did the laundry in, but it was quite nice, though wet, but one thing was the same as most towns in France.  When you park in a car park where you have to pay, the hours to pay are 8-12 and 14-19.  Yep, even the carparks in France have a lunch hour!!!  We arrived at 11.45, and you got 30 minutes free anyway, so we were able to stay until 14.15 free!!!  Love France.  By 14.15 the sky was beginning to clear and we were able to take the hood down for the afternoon’s drive.  Our checking in time was 17.00 so we stopped off at Maurs for a wander and then headed on past our accommodation to Le Rouget, the biggest town near our Chateau.  We found the local Cave there and bought a bottle of white before seeing their little kegs which you could fill with Merlot, Rose or Muscat.  We took the Merlot, a keg for 8 euros – our cheapest wine yet!!  Gregoire greeted us at his lovely chateau, showed us around and although he hadn’t received our email asking if we could have dinner at the chateau (sometimes when they are very rural you can book an evening meal), he was delighted to provide a spread for us.  His mother bought the chateau fifteen years ago, and when they opened it up, it was the first time it had been opened in 65 years, when it was locked up after WWII.  French resistance had been housed there as the area was used to drop English agents in as it was so remote, and there was still a picture of Hitler pinned to one of the mirrors with little marks on it where they’d thrown things at him.  The restoration they had done was amazing, having to remove much of the floor, treat it, then re-lay it, and re-build some of the walls.  He and his wife were lovely, inviting us to join them for some amazing pizza before dinner that he had made in the outdoor oven.  Another bonus was the lovely bathroom with a large bath – perfect to chase away the chills of the earlier day.
War time secrets went on in this chateau - fascinating.
We were up and away sharp the next morning, well, as sharp as we get, as we had arranged to be at our next accommodation by lunchtime.  Mike had discovered a while back that Teenage Fanclub were playing at a Festival in France, so we had planned our route so we could take this in.  We knew it would be a late night so felt it only fair to check in a bit earlier so they wouldn’t have to wait up for us.  Benjamin was incredibly accommodating and showed us round the transformed cheese farm that he now runs as a B&B, then handed us the keys and left us to head off to the Heart of Gold, Heart of Glass Festival at St Amans des Cot – yes, we’d never heard of it either.  The festival was being held at a holiday camp, on a lakeside, so a beautiful setting, and with hindsight, we should really just have booked one of the bungalows for the night.  We arrived too early for non-stayers, who wouldn’t be admitted until 5pm, but it wasn’t a problem for the French.  We were told to take a seat for 15/20 minutes and they’d sort it out.  They did.  The girl came back with our wristbands and said we could make use of the pool, bars, food stations etc.  And we did!!  The festival was a completely different experience from those in the UK.  No one started drinking til about 7pm, no one was drunk, no one was being sick, weeing against trees, pushing to the front of the venue – it was all incredibly civilised and we really enjoyed it.  The weirdest thing was, like all festivals in France apparently, it was a cash-free zone.  You buy Jetons (little plastic discs, 1 jeton = 1.36euros) and you then buy anything you want with them.  This does make it very expensive as a large beer was 4 jetons!!!  Mike was getting very excited as the time for the Fannies to come on got closer as having inspected the venue, realised how close and personal this gig would be.  Then we spotted Norman Blake.  Then he was suddenly walking behind us and Mike turned and said, “All right??”  Norman chatted with us as if we were old friends – what a lovely, lovely man and Mike managed to have a conversation without crying or getting tongue tied.  They came on at 9pm and were brilliant.  What a great gig.  Mike started crying round about the second song and I think Norman clocked him as he kind of smirked at one point………  Afterwards we hung around but as they had a flight back to the UK the next morning I think they must have decided on a quiet night.  We had a really good time; the people were nice, the pool was great, music fantastic, just a really nice experience and I’d highly recommend taking in a French festival if you get the chance.  I then drove us back to the B&B along pitchblack winding lanes and slept like a log once there.  The following day would take us back on to familiar territory as we headed South towards Carcassone.

It's Festival time!!!!
Mike dreaming about being in the mosh pit

Personally I prefer Quaintrelle
The Fannies!!!