Running a Chambres d'hotes can be hard work - all that changing of beds and ironing. Made especially bad when your guests arrive at almost 10 p.m. on a Friday night having booked the Green Room (double bed, shower & toilet ensuiste) to say they wanted twin beds! John swears Stephen never mentioned that, but as they went out to try and find somewhere to eat (fat chance around here at that time of night!) we quickly swap the beds around. But that made us nervous for Saturday night, because we received a phone booking just before for the one night, and I'd said we only had the twin room left. What if they wanted a twin, and now found themselves with a double? Hah, John spend the afternoon (after watching the qualifying for the Hungarian Grand Prix of course) tidying up the Rose room which he'd used as a depository for all his tools etc whilst rebuilding the bathroom, and we had a solution. If they needed separate beds, they could have separate rooms!
Phew, it's not an easy way to earn €100!
Still, it has its compensations...
It turned out that the new people were Aussies, as was the girl who had arrived with her Nigerian boyfriend (but with twin-beds, so I think the 'friend' part was literal) and we all had aperos in the garden. The fact that I got through almost a whole bottle of wine to myself may have clouded my judgement, but sitting there in the sun, with 4 strangers and exchanging views on everything from how crap Vodaphone mobiles are, through the political situation to whether or not the Aussies should still cling to the Queen's Birthday bank holiday when they want to be a republic, it all seemed worthwhile. Mike & Georgie (the two Aussies) were on motorbike driving a meanering route from Portugal, via Spain and Andorra, to Folkestone. They actually shipped their motorbikes from Brisbane out to the UK and will be shipping them back next week, when their 3 month holiday is over! I wish we had long-service leave.
An interesting factoid that came out of our discussions on Australia was that they too are increasing their retirement age. This can have nothing to do with saving money as we are all tempted to think is the root of the UK (and French) moves, because the Oz economy is absolutely booming. It really must just be a result of us all living longer.
I tell you something, if this life is what's in front of us for another 20-odd years, you won't hear me complaining - not until we get back to the UK and I have to start commuting into Picadilly again, anyway!
Showing posts with label chambres d'hotes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chambres d'hotes. Show all posts
Saturday, 30 July 2011
Monday, 2 August 2010
Where do they get all the jambons from?
They love their festivals here in France, or any other reason for a get together - but where do they get all the jambons from? Back in June we had the 'mechoui' at a local farm. According to the dictionary, it is 'North Africal style barbecue, lamb roast or spit roast' and about 100+ of us ate a set meal (including copious amounts of wine, of course) in an open barn on the farm. There was also a tombola, 1st prize a 5.6kg smoked ham - and we won it! Then there was another for the orange tickets, and another for the red tickets. . .
The same happened last Sunday - Le Bourg Dun has a Repas Champetre, a rustic meal under tents on the green just behind the bar. It was here last year that I realised I really DIDN'T like andouillettes. It's a barbecue - sausage frites, ham frites, frites frites - and again they had a tombola, with jambon as first prize for the yellow tickets, another for the organge tickets, another for the blue! They just seemed to keep coming out of the refrigerated van - I wonder if the inside of the van was like the Tardis?
Anyway, a good time was had by all, and John and I returned to watch the grand prix (actually, doze through most of it - wine at lunchtime is a killer), decide not to do any work in the garden and basically laze the Sunday away.
Until, that is, I had the absolutely brilliant idea to go for a walk. There is a little path that runs from the back of the Mesnil campsite (where Carole & Martial have their restaurant) down to the sea, and we've been meaning to walk it for years now. So we did it. Very pleasant little constitutional of about 1/2 mile walk each way that took us about 30 mins and we felt very pleased with ourselves for the exercise, until that is we were watching the European Championship Athletics later that evening, in particular the women's 1500m (about 1 mile) which they did in 4 minutes! Still, they didn't stop to pick pea pods, or talk to the cows en route. Why is it that the flies absolutely adore cows? These were Cherolets, the big white cows raised for their meat and very prevalent around here. But on each one you could see the massive black stripe down (I suppose) their warmer stomach, which was the flies. It's understandable that we should get an influx of flies each night when the cows come back to the farm opposite.
Ah well, that's enough blue sky thinking for now.
They love their festivals here in France, or any other reason for a get together - but where do they get all the jambons from? Back in June we had the 'mechoui' at a local farm. According to the dictionary, it is 'North Africal style barbecue, lamb roast or spit roast' and about 100+ of us ate a set meal (including copious amounts of wine, of course) in an open barn on the farm. There was also a tombola, 1st prize a 5.6kg smoked ham - and we won it! Then there was another for the orange tickets, and another for the red tickets. . .
The same happened last Sunday - Le Bourg Dun has a Repas Champetre, a rustic meal under tents on the green just behind the bar. It was here last year that I realised I really DIDN'T like andouillettes. It's a barbecue - sausage frites, ham frites, frites frites - and again they had a tombola, with jambon as first prize for the yellow tickets, another for the organge tickets, another for the blue! They just seemed to keep coming out of the refrigerated van - I wonder if the inside of the van was like the Tardis?
Anyway, a good time was had by all, and John and I returned to watch the grand prix (actually, doze through most of it - wine at lunchtime is a killer), decide not to do any work in the garden and basically laze the Sunday away.
Until, that is, I had the absolutely brilliant idea to go for a walk. There is a little path that runs from the back of the Mesnil campsite (where Carole & Martial have their restaurant) down to the sea, and we've been meaning to walk it for years now. So we did it. Very pleasant little constitutional of about 1/2 mile walk each way that took us about 30 mins and we felt very pleased with ourselves for the exercise, until that is we were watching the European Championship Athletics later that evening, in particular the women's 1500m (about 1 mile) which they did in 4 minutes! Still, they didn't stop to pick pea pods, or talk to the cows en route. Why is it that the flies absolutely adore cows? These were Cherolets, the big white cows raised for their meat and very prevalent around here. But on each one you could see the massive black stripe down (I suppose) their warmer stomach, which was the flies. It's understandable that we should get an influx of flies each night when the cows come back to the farm opposite.
Ah well, that's enough blue sky thinking for now.
Sunday, 25 July 2010
So, it is tomorrow now and what's happened is it's raining. Just when I've got all the bedding from Ian, Yvonne, Jack & Sally's visit washed and waiting to be dried. Oh well, that's life. I hope it's raining at Hockenheim (the Grand Prix) because that will make the race this afternoon more interesting than it may otherwise be. But I don't want it to be raining in Paris for the end of the Tour de France, it would ruin the spectacle.
Still, we can't complain, the weather here in Normandy has been fantastic for about 90% of the time since we came over at the end of June. Apart from one day (when John was showing Yvonne et al around one of the local harbours and I was tied to the computer at home here - forgetting that I had washing out on the line) it has only rained at night, and by mid afternoon the sun has re-appeared.
I think it will put off any walk-ins for the Chambres d'hotes though. It's sod's law, the only potential walk-ins we had were when Ian & Yvonne were here and when we hadn't got the rooms re-made after they left. Now we are all ready to take money off the hordes, no-one's knocking on the door.
So, given the weather, it looks like a day of armchair sports, and then I've got more work/work to do to get the changes to the e-learning course on the Bribery Act 2010 done and over to India so they can start on the coding SOB their time. It's a shame you don't get overtime when you're freelance! Still, can't complain, working from the kitchen table here in France isn't a bad life. The only trouble is I worry so much that they think I'm not working, that I end up doing twice as much as if I was in the office. I must get a hold of myself and give myself a good shaking and talking to.
I'll try to see if I can upload some pictures in due course.
Bisous
Still, we can't complain, the weather here in Normandy has been fantastic for about 90% of the time since we came over at the end of June. Apart from one day (when John was showing Yvonne et al around one of the local harbours and I was tied to the computer at home here - forgetting that I had washing out on the line) it has only rained at night, and by mid afternoon the sun has re-appeared.
I think it will put off any walk-ins for the Chambres d'hotes though. It's sod's law, the only potential walk-ins we had were when Ian & Yvonne were here and when we hadn't got the rooms re-made after they left. Now we are all ready to take money off the hordes, no-one's knocking on the door.
So, given the weather, it looks like a day of armchair sports, and then I've got more work/work to do to get the changes to the e-learning course on the Bribery Act 2010 done and over to India so they can start on the coding SOB their time. It's a shame you don't get overtime when you're freelance! Still, can't complain, working from the kitchen table here in France isn't a bad life. The only trouble is I worry so much that they think I'm not working, that I end up doing twice as much as if I was in the office. I must get a hold of myself and give myself a good shaking and talking to.
I'll try to see if I can upload some pictures in due course.
Bisous
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