Rural Secrets And Living Our Best Lives (Word, Baby)

September 4, 2022 by libertatemamo 19 Comments

It’s a beautiful morning in the countryside. There’s a breeze blowing through the trees, the sound of birds chatting about the meaning of life and everything in-between, the occasional “plonk” as walnuts fall from our backyard tree, a clear view to the Pyrénées and….dare I say it….a hint of coolness in the air.

It’s not fall yet (lets not get ahead ourselves now), but darn it, I sense we are so, so close to getting there.

Even Polly feels the change and is keen to take part.

She got me up at 6:30am this morning, huffing and puffing and shaking her head until I pulled out of my deep and rather pleasant slumber. One minute I was floating on a field of clouds with a banjo playing next to me (this will make sense in a minute) while the next I had a long, wet tongue licking my face. I can’t say it’s the most pleasant way to wake up, but it is effective and cute enough that you just can’t get annoyed. Besides Polly always considers it a major victory when she manages to (finally) get me up and will roll on her side for a belly rub with a content {{hrmph}}. Time to get the schedule started, mom!

Breakfast, walk, barking at the neighbor’s cat, sniff, sleep, food, walk and repeat. In other words, this is going to be the best day ever!

While Polly lives her very best doggie life, Groundhog-day style, we’re doing our very best to eek out the last of the local French summer events. Warm, outdoor evening concerts, the final village fests (although there will be a few more coming, including for our own village) and the last days in our pool before we take it down for its winter hibernation (which you’ll know is necessary if you’ve read all the latest hubbub on pools in France).

These are things on my mind this week in the deepest depths of rural SW France, and what I’ll share on the blog today. Allez!

Google, Not Always Your Friend

Those of you who’ve followed my blog for a while are already very hip to the joys of French bureaucracy. By this I don’t just mean foreigners such as moi faced with the prospect of 54-pages of documents to build a simple carport (honestly I gave up), but also local French who, it turns out, become just as frustrated with the procedural minefield as the rest of us.

So, it’ll come as no surprise to you that some folks just don’t bother. 

In fact the longer we live in France, the more we’ve come to realize that there’s a kind of laissez faire or shall-we-say things that are not spoken about. And if you ever buy a house in France you’ll very quickly come to realize this too. Interior alterations, terraces, extensions, septic tanks (we can attest to that hellish experience…) and many other bits and bobs may be present on your new-home-to-be, but perhaps eeermmm not exactly, completely, officially, declared.

Ah well {{insert Gallic shrug here}}…c’est comme ça…

Alas the French government is not as relaxed about this lack of respect for the paperasse as their constituents, and given the recent heat waves they decided to tackle a very specific affront with the help of a little tech from Google Satellite. The cost of this new partnership was a clean EUR 24 million (for 3 years of use), no small amount. But the French knowing the French as they do, expected a very solid return.

And they were not wrong…

Since the start of this year 20,000 undeclared pools have already been reconnoitered which should bring in ~EUR 40 million (!!) of additional tax revenue to the state (pools are not cheap). It’s been all the hubbub of news on my Facebook living-in-France forums, and it’s not expected to end there. Next up they’ve said they will hunt down undeclared terraces, undeclared extensions and goodness knows what else. A veritable fountain of potential additional tax income….(and paperwork).

It only goes to show, as all RVers already know, that Google is not always your friend.

Note/ For those curious above-ground pools have different rules (of course) than in-ground pools. The exact legislation says that above-ground pools do not need any consent unless they are greater than 10m² in size, or higher than 1.80m, and they are installed for a period in excess of three months. And thus why…ours will be put away soon.

Word Of Mouth, Definitely Your Friend 

A positive French certainty no matter where you live, is that word of mouth is everything.

When we first arrived here this little particularity actually used to drive me crazy, specifically the fact that I couldn’t just Google things. What, no Google search for the nearest electrician? Huh, a restaurant that’s not even on the map? Where do I find how to buy things, for the love of all the internet Gods?? How do I find out what’s going on, Mon Dieu! Gooooooogle????

It was beyond frustrating and took us months to get used to, plus it meant progress on just about everything was slooow. Ask around to get a recommendation, find someone who actually has their number or an address, wait for said person to get back to you etc. etc.

That said, over time I’ve come to appreciate this archaic process, and have even become rather French in the matter. I mean, why trust a random person on Google (who could just as likely be a bot) when your local neighbors are a much better judge of the local scene?

Somehow it all makes sense (especially since, as we already know, Google is not always your friend). My latest word-of-mouth success came from a neighbor down the way who recommended a new café-bar in the nearby “artists town” of Carla Bayle.

“It has live music every Saturday” she gushed “different band every week, great vibe”.

In my former-US-state-of-mind it would have shocked me that something as cool as this would not have been advertised everywhere, but with my newly-marinated-French-brain it only surprised me that my neighbors hadn’t told me about it sooner.

All that was rectified yesterday when a next-door girlfriend and I drove over to check it out, and we were gifted with a superb (of all things) Bluegrass band (The Beavers) that rocked their banjo-bass-guitar trio late into the night. All local French guys playing authentic Southern music singing with the loveliest Southern twang, in the very midst of profoundest, deepest rural France.

Dang, I could have been in Kentucky for all I knew….

I have to admit I love these kind of secret discoveries, and they make living here all the sweeter. Thanks for the tip, my friend (you know who you are).

Local Village Fêtes, Always A Good Friend

One thing I thoroughly appreciate about rural SW France is that traditional village life is still very much alive and kicking.

Historically village gatherings occurred around either religious dates or harvest time, and were an occasion for locals to share the bounties of their work (which they traditionally all participated in). These days the gatherings are mostly just a fun summer event, but they retain their old-time village vibes and there are literally hundreds of them that occur all over the countryside.

The smaller fêtes are just a meal, but the larger ones can go on for days and often include events (e.g. petanque contests, kids activities etc.), amusement rides, exhibitions (e.g. traditional artisan crafts) and so much more. Our local village of Lézat-sur-Lèze is of the latter kind and started their 3-day celebration on Saturday with a massive “vide grenier” (flea market) animated by line dancers, food stalls and artisan barbers (my fav part). I knew about it thanks to banners that had been hung all over town  and a local flier I picked up at the grocery store.

Old-school advertising, baby…

Dad and I went down in the AM and had a blast walking the streets and rummaging through hundreds of stalls with all kinds of knick-knacks from the mundane through to the delightfully weird. I bought a new-to-me sweater for a clean EUR 1, we visited the old school in the Mairie which dates back to 1900 (and was opened and hosted by the local historical society), we had coffee and cake, and we generally just enjoyed the festive atmosphere.

Seriously one of my fav parts of summer…

Word Has It…

Word has it that fall is almost here. Wait, didn’t I say that last week?? Ah well…one can dream, I guess.

The weather still hasn’t made up its mind and runs from stormy days to wild evening lightning storms, cool mornings to baking hot afternoons. It’s a see-saw that may well take us through all of Sept before it tips to one side for good. Only time will tell.

Still the plans that we’ve made continue.

We’re still working through our massive inventory of figs, and I’m rather chuffed to say I’ve created a new recipe, a Nina-original fig tart with frangipane (almond-based pastry filling) and a dark chocolate layer on a sweet homemade pate sablée base. It was pretty darn delicious. I’d make it every night if I could, but alas my waistline can only take so much before it doth protest too much (and I do still have to fit into that reunion outfit a few weeks from now).

We’re also still working through Paul’s beer keg inventory, which is an active and important process as TWO dark beers are now happily chugging away in the fermenters in our garage and they’ll need space in the Kegerator fairly soon. Twill be a porter and a stout on tap my friends….{{yum}}

Oh and Polly just informed me, by popping her head around the door and staring at me rather directly, that evening feed and walk must now commence. Like all locals she communicates by word of mouth (word of dog eyes?) and believes that the best days are when we do all the best local things right here.

She’s not wrong on that one…

OK let’s talk MUSIC and FESTIVALS my friends! What are your favs? Do you travel to them? Are you flea market folk? I’d love to know. DO share and comment below.