Home again

That's it, for now, from our short trip to Angoulême this past October. The drive home, however, was not to be without drama. We packed up the car and did a final walk-through with the owners of the gîte we rented. When I started the car to leave, it made an awful screeching sound. I engaged the clutch and it stuck, the pedal refusing to leave the floor. Uh-oh.

Sign on a garage door in Vindelle. "Beware of Dog."

The screeching got worse and our host said it sounded like the clutch was going. Not to worry, he said, you can still drive the car. After a few tries, the clutch pedal loosened up and I was able to get into gear. I stalled the first time, but it got slowly better. We decided to try to get home. We'd take the autoroute all the way to minimize gear shifts. I stalled again at an intersection on our way, but we got going again and the clutch pedal was feeling better. We got on the autoroute and headed for home. The whole way in fourth gear.

I stalled again at the toll booth outside Poitiers, but that was the last time. I was able to negotiate the remaining toll booths without a problem. We were almost home, just passing the supermarket in Noyers across the river, when WHAM! Some guy rear-ended us. I saw him in the rear-view mirror not looking ahead when he hit us. We were approaching a traffic circle and were rolling slowly, so it was just a "tap," but it still shook us up after the two-and-a-half hour drive from Vindelle with a failing clutch. We didn't even get out of the car. We took a look at the bumper when we got to the house and there was no damage to be seen. I guess that's what bumpers are for, after all.

The following week, Ken made an appointment at the garage and they installed a new clutch. I have no idea why the old clutch failed. Thankfully, it worked well enough for us to make it home safe and sound, albeit a little shaken.

The last shot from Verteuil

Ken and I (and Tasha) walked a big loop after leaving the center of Verteuil-sur-Charente. We made it back to the car and decided to drive up to the church (we were parked just below it) and take a look. While on the grounds, we were rewarded with the best view of the château all morning.

The Château de Verteuil seen from the church yard.

So the temperature has indeed dropped below zero (freezing) this morning. Ours will be an invigorating walk today. We'll be in the low single digits all day. There's even some talk of a little snow over the next twenty-four hours. Fortunately, we're well stocked and don't need to venture out on slippery roads.

Who goes there?

This painting in Verteuil surprised me. At first glance, it looked so real that, for a brief moment, I thought it was. After all, Halloween was right around the corner. But I quickly realized it was a mural. A darned good one.

Medieval man, Verteuil-sur-Charente.

The permanent crown is in. It took about an hour, forty-five minutes longer than I thought it would. Lots of adjusting and grinding and polishing to get the bite just right. I bit down on so many test papers that I think the least they could do is to make them flavored (mango! strawberry!). But it's finally done. And, aside from some very minor soreness in my jaw, it feels like nothing ever happened. That's a good thing.

Better

We made our way up past the castle and toward the main entrance: a gate at the end of a large park. It was shut and locked. We couldn't even see the castle from there. So, we made our way back down the hill to the Verteuil's market square thinking we'd console ourselves with a coffee or a glass of wine.

The château de Verteuil rises above the town's market square.

The main café on the square was closed and wouldn't open until 18h00. Another café was setting up, but the guy said they wouldn't start serving for about twenty minutes. We decided to bag it and head back toward the car. As we left the market square, the views of the castle got a little better.

At the foot of the castle

We got up to the foot of the castle in Verteuil, but there was no way in. This gate, if it even gave access at all, was closed up tight. But we kept on going up, up the street that ran toward the castle's park and main entrance.

Knock, knock. Anybody home?

Below zero temperatures are expected this weekend. Better get the winter squash in before that. Tomorrow I go back to the dentist for my permanent crown. King me!

Table for two

During our walk through Verteuil, we found a street that led to a bridge over the Charente. Looking downstream from the bridge, I noticed this little scene. Directly above it is a restaurant called Jeux de Pots, so I assume that this table belongs to it. Access is through a portal in the retaining wall. What I don't know is whether this little table is actually used by the restaurant or if it's just part of the décor.

Waterfront table for two. That table looks too small to be used for meal service. Maybe apéritifs?

We had quite a strong rain shower over night. I don't remember exactly when it went through; maybe some time around midnight. It pounded the roof for a while (about ten minutes or so) and then stopped as abruptly as it had started. When it was over, the clouds parted and the just-after-full moon shone bright again.

Stronghold

We made our way toward the center of Verteuil, not really knowing where we'd end up or what we would find. Our goal was to get to the château and see what we could see. It's a privately owned castle, be we held out hope that we'd be allowed to at least walk on the grounds and view the building from the outside. No such luck. All doors and gates were shut and locked. Maybe it was the time of day, maybe the time of year, or maybe it's not open to the public at all.

The château rises above central Verteuil.

I harvested another sucrine de Berry (winter squash) yesterday. Ken used a good part of it in a tajine recipe, using up leftover lamb from last Thursday. The rest I opted not to roast. Rather, I peeled and cut it into cubes, par-boiled it, then froze the cubes for another time. Peeling the squash was not easy. I wonder if I should have boiled the cubes before peeling them. That might have made it easier to remove the thick skin. I might try that the next time. There are two more squash in the garden. And they're big ones.

A stroll through Verteuil

We walked from the picnic area on the Charente River (where we parked) toward the center of Verteuil, at first along the river then into the main street. The château, built on a bluff above the river, came into view now and then, but it was difficult to get more than a piece of it in a photo, at least from the places we walked.

A glimpse of the château in Verteuil-sur-Charente.

Our outdoor thermometer read 1ºC when I woke up this morning. I'm sure that it's below freezing out in the vineyard. Tasha and I will bundle up (well, I will) and venture out at first light. Sunrise is at 08h13.

Another day, another church

After our quick stop in St.-Amant-de-Boixe, we made our way to the small town of Verteuil-sur-Charente. The owner of our gîte recommended it as a beautiful place to see. I think he grew up there, or nearby. He said that the town (population just over 600) was home to a number of English people. Probably more so in summer than in October.

The 12th century church of Saint-Médard in Verteuil.

When we arrived, we parked the car in a riverside lot just behind the town's church and headed into town toward the château on foot, Tasha in tow. The town is indeed picturesque, especially along the river, and it was a beautiful morning for a walk.

Once more, with scaffolding

Here's another shot of the abbey church in Saint-Amant-de-Boixe, taken as we headed back to the car and our next destination. I read in Wikipedia that the bell tower has been renovated extensively. By the looks of things, the rest of the church is getting its share as well.

Scaffolding on the abbey.

Our temperatures are getting more seasonable. We're expecting single digits (Celsius) for a couple of days. No frosts in sight, though. I had a fire in the wood stove all day yesterday. I expect I'll do the same for the next two days. I harvested another sucrine squash from the garden yesterday and roasted it. Some of it will go into a pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving, the rest will go into the freezer.

Am I blue?

I peeked inside the door of the abbey church at Saint-Amant-de-Boixe as we walked through the grounds. A woman was working on the stairs that descended from the door to the floor of the nave. I don't know what she was doing to them. Whatever it was, I couldn't use the steps, so I stayed put just long enough to snap a photo of the intensely blue choir and stained glass window.

The blue was so intense. My photo doesn't do it justice.

My visit to the dentist went reasonably well. He had trouble separating the temporary crown from the post in the implant. He pulled so hard that, for a moment, I thought he might rip the implant right out of my jaw. But then I heard him say, "There it is," and all was well. It's all back together now and it feels as though nothing happened. The permanent crown will be ready next week.

Le tympan

In English, it's the tympanum. I should have remembered this word from architecture school, but I've long forgotten and had to look it up. It's the triangular or semi-circular space over a door or window, framed by arches and a lintel, often adorned with sculpture. This is the tympan over the main entrance to the abbey church at Saint-Amant-de-Boixe.

The tympanum over the western entry to the abbey church at Saint-Amant-de-Boixe.

Today I go to the dentist (my regular dentist) to get measured for a permanent crown for the implant I got last summer. The dentist will remove the temporary crown and use a fancy camera to photograph and measure the space. Then he'll put the temporary back on while the permanent crown gets made. I have an appointment in ten days to have that put in.

So, the saga of my broken bicuspid (broken last spring) is coming to a happy end.

The abbey church

This is the bell tower on the abbey church in Saint-Amant-de-Boixe, seen from the street below. We parked the car and took a little walk around the abbey complex. Dogs are allowed on the grounds, but we didn't go into the church or cloister since we were on our way to another place. We did, however, take a short walk around the complex, but not far enough away to get more of it in a photo.

The imposing bell tower on the romanesque church of St.-Amant-de-Boixe.

The abbey was completed in the fifteenth century and has been, according to Wikipedia, extensively restored. In fact, the day we saw it, there was scaffolding over a portion of the church and adjoining buildings. Restoration and maintenance never end.

Saint-Amant-de-Boixe

The town of Saint-Amant-de-Boixe is about ten kilometers north from the house we rented back in October. The attraction there is a rather large benedictine abbey. But more about that later. This building is the town hall. It looks rather grand for a town of just over a thousand inhabitants.

Town hall in St.-Amant-de-Boixe. Adorned with purple umbrellas.

It finally happened. We had a sunny, still, and relatively warm day on Friday. I got my butt in gear and cleaned up the barbecue grill and covered it for the winter. What a greasy mess it was. And, to be honest, it still is, just less so.

Today I'm planning a quick trip to the market in St.-Aignan for some nems (Vietnamese egg rolls) from the Asian vendor. I hope he's there.

Just dying to get in

Just a couple more photos from the cemetery in Jarnac. Then I'll stop. One of the reasons we wanted to see the grave of former French president François Mitterrand is, well, we were there. Another is that he was newly elected the year that Ken and I met.

Graves and tombs in the cemetery at Jarnac.

It was a big change for France to have a left-wing president and government, at least for a while before the right regained control of the parliament. He was a force for change, both politically and culturally. Like many French presidents, he was responsible for significant redevelopment projects in Paris. The "new" national library, built on the banks of the Seine in the thirteenth arrondissment, was built during his term; it now bears his name. He also, perhaps more famously, directed the relocation of the French finance ministry from the Louvre to a new, modern complex at Bercy (twelfth arrondissement) in order to expand and modernize the Louvre museum. The resulting improvements are no less than stunning.

The tomb of François Mitterrand.

Mitterrand was re-elected to a second term in 1988. He served fourteen years (two terms) as president. Since that time, France changed the length of presidential terms from seven years to five years.

I see dead people

Not far from where we were staying in Vindelle is the town of Jarnac. It's the home town of former French president François Mitterrand. It's also where he is buried. Ken and I wanted to go to Cognac, and Jarnac is on the way, so we stopped. We parked the car and took a stroll around the center of town with Tasha, then we headed for the cemetery. Ken got directions from a public utility guy that was working in the street, so we knew which way to go.

A section of the Jarnac cemetery. Mitterrand's grave is off to the right, out of the photo.

The guy's directions were perfect and we pulled up outside the cemetery's entrance with ease. There was a big sign saying that dogs are not allowed inside. We had to go in one at a time while the other stayed outside with Tasha. Ken went in first and looked for the grave. Turns out there are a few signs that direct people to it. After a short while, he was back, and I took my turn.

He was 79 years old when he died. His term as president ended the year before.

We decided after that not to continue on to Cognac (after all, we had just been there in 1989!). It was getting close to noon and we would need to find a restaurant for lunch. After our experience a couple of days prior, we decided not to do the restaurant thing. We stopped at a supermarket outside of town for a few supplies then we headed back to the house to make lunch.

I tawt I taw a bunny wabbit

I did! I did taw a bunny wabbit! While walking with Tasha in Vindelle, I saw this in a small square in town. I didn't have the right lens to take a good photo from this far away and I was afraid the dog would scare the rabbit away. It looks like a domestic rabbit to me. I wonder what it was doing out like this?

As soon as I snapped this, we turned and went the other way. I didn't want Tasha to bark like crazy so early in the morning.

Many people in rural France keep rabbits. And chickens, too. The answer to the question "Pets or meat?" is, well, meat. Just in case you're wondering, the rabbits we eat come from the market. I couldn't kill a cute wittle bunny wabbit.

Vending bread

Vindelle is a small town. So small, in fact, that it doesn't have, and maybe can't support, a single bakery. A French town without a boulangerie? There are likely many more than we think. In Vindelle's center, we saw a vending machine for bread. The bakery (le Fournil d'Anaïs, Anaïs' Oven) that makes the bread and stocks the machine is located six kilometers away in a town called Vars.

The bakery in Vars also sells roasted chickens on Sundays, birthday cakes, wedding cakes, and Italian ice cream.

Of course, it happened that we needed a baguette one day, so Ken walked into town and bought one from the machine. It takes debit cards, so he didn't even need cash. The baguette was perfect, as fresh and good as if he had bought it in a bakery. I'll never chuckle about bread vending machines again.

Monumental

As in many French cities and towns, the people of Vindelle erected a monument to the memory of local men who lost their lives in service to the country. This one commemorates soldiers from the first and second world wars and the war in Southeast Asia. The monument stands near the town hall (I didn't take a photo of that) and it looks like somebody recently hit it with a vehicle.

LA COMMUNE DE VINDELLE

A SES ENFANTS

MORTS POUR LA PATRIE

1914 - 1918

1939 - 1945

INDOCHINE

Today I'm going to see the dental surgeon who did my implant for a final look-see before he gives me the go-ahead for the permanent crown. My regular dentist will have that made and do the installation when it's ready. I'm not expecting any problems; all has gone very well since the beginning.

Downtown

This is central Vindelle, the little town outside of Angoulême where we rented a gîte (vacation rental house) for a week in October. As I mentioned earlier, the tiny bourg of about a thousand people is little more than an intersection. Besides the town hall, there is a café/restaurant that also serves as newsstand and cigarette shop. It also provides postal services.

Dawn in downtown Vindelle.

I took this picture on one of my early morning walks with Tasha, before things opened up for the day. During the day, the sidewalk outside the cafë is set up with a few tables and umbrellas for shade. The times we passed by or through, there were always people sitting outside eating, drinking, and/or reading the news.