Saint-Clément

I left CentoAnidra on Monday afternoon after 4 weeks work. They wanted me to stay longer but an unrelenting diet of faggiolini (green beans) overcooked even though fresh; occasional offcuts of pig and wine doled out a mouthful at a time was beginning to get to me.

Whilst heading West to my next gig by Beziers, I found a wonderful camping / picnic spot at the back of a motorway service centre near Aix-en-Provence and settled in to watch a film with a glass of wine. 20 minutes later blue lights were illuminating the interior and a loud knocking on the door announced the arrival of the Gendarmerie.
Two polite officers regretted to inform me that the centre was subject to regular sweeps by people breaking into cars and that I should move to the main carpark under the lights. Directly in front of the boutique. So as soon as the film was finished I moved in front of McDonalds and went to sleep. At 02:30 a noise made me waken and sit in the drivers seat as 3 men tried the doors of each vehicle in turn, the boutique having closed for the night. Seeing me sitting there ensured I was not one of them and they soon left in a small white hatchback. I got back in my sleeping bag and lay comfortably half-awake - like doing stag. Sure enough, at 03:00 hours another figure appeared making the rounds and was similarly dissuaded by my appearance. By 04:00 it was getting a bit cold so I swung back onto my bunk above the driver and into my warm sleeping bag. By leaning over I could see through the door windows the rear view mirrors covering my flanks. At 04:30 just when I had decided that there probably would be no more interruptions another pair of men appeared shining torches into the cab. The first time I let it pass, but when one of them pressed his nose against the window it was too much for me and the flat of my hand swung down in an elegant parabola onto the glass straight into his nose. The expression on their faces as they leapt away compensated for the disturbance although the East European glare as they scurried away caused cars to flash their lights at the apparent non-dipping motorist. After that the McD kitchens opened for the day and there was no more trouble.

Before showing up for work I dropped in on Tim and Maria at St Clements, near Montpellier. On arrival I found people much as I had left them over a year ago. My first port of call was to Ivan the 76 year old ex-mechanic who showed me his newly planted vegetable patch and his beautifully maintained racing Renault Alpine, and whose goodwill I solicited in order to park my van outside the back of his house. Nobody seems to like or trust this fellow and he has been rude to Maria's guests but I never had a problem with him. Sucking up really does work with some folk.

The house is much the same as before althought the painting and decorating of the school has progressed and the kitchen is almost ready for students. I spent my short time there with Tim, hauling boxes and beds out of one room, upstairs into another so that painting downstairs could continue. Along the way we moved several old matteresses and the like into the yard for the decheterie, for we had discovered two small shrivelled cats lying in a pool on one of them. I envied Tim his inability to smell them for I certainly could, even after spraying industrial strength vinegar onto the wet patches.

The village sculpter invited us to witness the pouring of his latest piece - a cat looking remarkably similar to the ones we found - in bronze. Afterwards, as T&M prepared for their last guest this year after more than four months of constant hospitality, I moved on to Sommieres and the coast.Weiterlesen