France at last

Well the weather in the UK was just as wet as Pretoria but it seemed to be a million degrees colder.  We had a lovely but hectic 48 hours but we didn't get to see as many people as we wanted.  Wer spent lots of time with Beth and could see lots of little bits of progress.  It's not going to be a sudden leap but just a series of little steps [literally and figuratively].   Sunday was Mothering Sunday and I was thrilled to receive a bouquet from Kate in France, as well as a lovely present from Kerry and even a cuddly toy from Beth.

Two of my lovely girls

We caught up with some of our friends in Seaford but just didn't have time to see all the people we wanted.   There's never enough time...........

So this morning we had to leave Kerry's well before 5am to get the plane to Bordeaux.  The plane was jampacked full of testosterone!  It appears that it is a popular thing for young, presumably single, French men to pop over to England to celebrate St Patrick's Day.  So the plane stank largely of stale Guinness, unwashed male bodies and stale cigarette smoke, with just a whiff of last night's kebab to enhance it all.  Quite a relief to disembark.

By the time we got to Ste Foy [our nearest town] we were definitely suffering from a slump so we thought we'd go and get some lunch.  Of course we had forgotten it's Monday.  In most countries that wouldn't really matter too much but here nearly everything's shut.  We eventually found a restaurant which served very mediocre food, which we wolfed down.  We visited our new Centre Commercial which is quite swish but not a patch on a South African mall to get some food for later and then headed to the house.

The sun was shining and the cherry blossom was glorious - such a shame that we are going to have to cut those trees down when the extension is built.

Cherry blossom hiding the worst of the house

The caravan was fine, although a bit cold but it soon warmed through once I put the radiator on. 
It has a major advantage over the house - it's waterright!

Home Sweet Home for the foreseeable future

Everything seemed to be going fine with one small exception - there's no water in the pipes [plenty on some of the floors though, where it had cascaded through the roof].  It was going to be difficult to clean up the caravan or make a cup of tea with no water.  Our neighbour popped along to see us and told us that in October the water company had dug a trench down our road and given everyone a new meter, except us because we weren't there and couldn't pay for the new meter, so they had just cut off our water.  We were pretty despondent but a phone call ensured that they promised to come tomorrow and reconnect us.  They explained that the quote for the new meter had gone to our UK address, which is odd because we don't have one.  I don't feel quite so homesick now, it's a bureaucratic muddle just like South Africa but with a funny accent.

Thank goodness our friends Kevin and Judith have offered us the use of one of their gites for a few days, with a wood burning stove and hot water in the shower.  Bliss!  It's 5pm now, I'm counting down the hours til bedtime.