The same but different, familiar but strange ......... pick your own saying, what I am blogging today is a close encounter with the French personality.
Lets begin at the beginning. I had decided that it was time for a short trip to France to replenish my wine cellar, OK cupboard and fridge....as I was quite depleted and it was Beaujolais Noveau time. Yes I know that there is not the same fuss regarding this as in the past but it is a quite pleasant wine, I never have pretended to be an expert. On learning about this my daughter decided she would come too, as she was responsible for my shortness of supplies, I live in the hope that having got her own she might not raid mine so frequently.
We booked the Ferry, £58 return for car plus two, a good deal and a small, what in this country we would call a B&B, but Auberge sounds so much classier. This was situated in the hinterland behind Calais and Dunquerke towards St Omer, for those who know the area, in a small village.
The adventure started here, the fog had settled at Dover, we set off hoping the Captain had his radar and satnav in good order and arrived to quite thick gloom which increased as the sun set.
The more we got into the country and travelled along narrow roads with canals and big ditches, either side, crash barriers being obviously optional extras, the slower we went. However we made it albeit slowly and reached the right village only to be greeted by a deviation sign on the road we wanted to enter...... we deviated as requested and after some even narrower lanes, one of which was unpaved, no matter we were in the Jeep which is designed and modified for such terrain, and reached the correct ‘rue’. Expecting a sign of some kind we drove slowly up and back down this road, resorting eventually to calling into a house and seeking directions which put us back in the right direction. It seemed to be sometime after we discovered what we thought might be the Auberge. A rustic style building at the end of a farmyard.
My French isn’t great but I managed to ensure we were in the right place and the lady did indeed expect us.
There was a big room, part of which was lit and seated round the kitchen table were four people having their tea. We were shown our rooms, twice or more the space of a Campanile or similar and invited to join them for a drink. The party consisted of Madame the owner, what turned out to be a Belgium couple and another man who we never discovered who he was, he might have been Madame’s husband but not sure.
Only one spoke English and from the appearance and the name I jumped to the conclusion that she was a man, possibly a transvestite and with the other Belgium...........I was so wrong, she turned out to a’ lady and he her husband ! I blame the name, she said she was Michelle which sounds the same in French as Michel. The dog was, well a big friendly dog, he was a Belgium dog called “Edelweiss” or “edy” who seemed to like us and shedding hair everywhere.
We were offered some wine, well in fact we had unknowingly purchased a bottle, ‘pas de problem ‘ as the French say and thus started the first night of a sometimes surreal conversation.
They were all interested in us, more of which later, and we explained our mission and what we were going to buy. It was I admit a strange list. Wine of course, Cidre, Cheeses, but also a washing up liquid called Paic Citron XL, I had discovered this many years ago and have bought it on every trip to France since. This caused great amusement, why would anyone come to France to buy a common washing up liquid ?
At some pause we were asked if we wanted something to eat, given the fog etc we were not inclined to venture out again and agreed. Madame asked what would we like and pointing the the dish that they had been eating indicated that it was this or nothing. She took it away to reheat. It was very nice and accompanied by fresh French bread. We talked for a little time, explaining that we came from Nottingham, “where Robin Hood comes from,” seems to be the best description to use.
It was about nine o’clock when Madame suddenly decided to go to each of our rooms and switch the lights on and as far as I could tell, we were effectively sent to bed !after having fixed breakfast time !
We slept well, might have been the wine or just tired from the journey, and so dawned the second day.
Things always look better in the daylight and we saw the gardens where there were chickens, ducks, and peacocks. Madame brought fresh bread straight from the baker to us and what I think was yesterday’s bread for the fowl.
The unknown older gentleman appeared for coffee and brought us a photocopied map on which he identified the hypermarches in all directions, a most kindly thought.
We went forth and covered the Belgium chocolate shop near the border, two Auchun and a Carrefour as well as the CIte d’Europe. We had lunch at the Flunch, a chain of restaurants everywhere, tip - if you want a good but inexpensive meal the supermarket cafes are unbeatable.
We returned, I had bought some Belgium chocolates for them all which seemed to go down well and at seven o’clock joined the two Belgiums and Madame for dinner. Again simple fare you have what was presented but quite agreeable and some very nice cheese
The dinner and apres dinner conversations carried on, Madame was in her stride, she asked about my daughter’s marital status and when she was having babies, she asked me why I was fat, what I did etc etc. Michelle who had to translate some of this, I got bits but somethings were beyond my vocabulary, and she apologized, in English, for the French habit of asking what might be considered impolite questions.
Despite everything we did find things to talk about, Madame was great fan of Winston Churchill and General de Gaulle, and then somehow we got into the differences in language, especially of animal noises ie ducks go ‘quack’ in UK, canards go ‘coin coin’ in French. There are apparently country specific ways of saying ‘cock a doodle doo’ and the same for others, I think we did sheep, lambs, cows, horses, dogs and chickens
The rest was equally surreal and whilst I could not see it personally, it seems that everytime Madame got up and went into the kitchen the others could see her opening the fridge and swigging from a bottle. This may have explained her style of conversation. Jean-Claude the Belgium husband, who was evidently someone important as he got calls on his mobile every 15 minutes throughout the evening, we made a joke regarding when the next one would arrive.
That night we were not sent to bed but about 11:00pm we sent ourselves, in all an enjoyable and quite new experience we shall remember, anyway the moral if there is in fact one is try and fit in with your hosts and those of other countries, don’t expect France to be England with better wine, be able to speak on history, politics, philosophy etc not just whats happening in Coronation Street.
And come away with a good feeling............. onwards to Auchun for fresh stuff, before boarding the ferry and with two rooms, two nights, wine and drinks and dinners and breakfasts for only €180 !
Viv La France, Vive la difference
