Le Couvent Diary

Whoops - I've kept you waiting. Sorry. Glad you're back though. So four days ago the Tour de France chose to gallop through Roujan again after a 50 year break. And what fun we had.

Two of our poor guests had to leave early on the day of the tour to avoid closed roads and traffic jams. This was particularly rotten luck since one of them had broken her foot whilst here and had the 24 hour journey back to Western Australia to do encased in plaster. Hope you got home safely John & Julia - sorry you missed Le Tour. Maybe the whole of Roujan should be protected thus:

The fun starts some two hours before the actual cyclists show up, when a cavalcade of advertising vehicles rattle past lobbing freebies at leaping spectators. Grown adults diving like Grobelaar to rob tiny children of the fourth peaked cap or a triangle of cheese. Some of the vehicles are spectacular, like this one on top of a car.

Some aren't quite what they claim to be - for instance - what's eco about driving the whole of France in a big square box on wheels?

 

This poor women spent her entire time trying to avoid being decapitated by overhanging trees.

Whilst this chap looked none too enamoured to be spending half of July sitting in a cup of coffee. A career in PR anyone?

Mme Mas came out onto her balcony to wave, sporting a very appropriate and fetching Nike cap.

 Ali made sure we got our own bit of marketing in.

Our lovely French neighbour brought us out a plate of delicious stuff to stave off hunger (we were none too successful at catching the cheese triangles).

 Nicola & Ali bought silly hats.

And eventually the cyclists came in a sweep and a whoosh. All very exciting. We shouted for them to thow us drugs, but they seemed to have kept them all for themselves. Hey ho, you can only ask.

  

 So we all had a silly, noisy, friendly and lovely time. Wish you'd been here.

 Thanks Tour de France - see you in 2058.

 So what are you doing on July 18th? We're going to be watching the whole Tour de France carnival pass by the end of our road. That's right, just 20m from the Le Couvent gates at 12.45 the Tour 2008 caravane will roar past. Described on the Le Tour website as:

* A 20 km-long procession
* 200 brightly decorated vehicles
* 43 brands represented on average each year
* 15 million gifts distributed
* 45 minutes of rolling entertainment

and that's before the cyclists come. I've seen the Tour three times before, and despite all the brouhaha about drugs, I am reduced to tears by the sheer power and determination of the cyclists as they hurtle past like a blast of wind. I hate the drugs thing, but I love to see athletes reaching their zenith.

So if you're free we have a couple of rooms still available. How about it?

I haven't blogged for ages. Normalement (Norman Lamont for the initiated) I cycle the dogs before breakfast, get breakfast ready, then do the blog. However, for the last month there have been horrible little seeds from puncture vines littering the vineyards. Seven new inner tubes and two teflon tyre liners later I have given up. Now I have to walk. It takes much longer. Hence no blog. I'm praying for rain so mud swallows up the seeds. They're horrid and their latin name is Tribulus terrestris. The Latin name tribulus originally meant the caltrop (a spiky weapon), but in Classical times already meant this plant as well. They are formed so that wherever they sit there is always a spike facing upwards. Poor Kit the dog gets them in her paws all the time and we have to stop every few metres over some patches to remove them from her foot. I blame it on the fact that she's so fat. Flynn the husky moves so lightly they rarely lodge in his paws.

I've also read that the pesky Tribulus terrestris is sold as nature's viagra. Kit the labrador has several little pricks of this every morning and she's showing no odder behavioural traits than usual. Should I just be shovelling the seeds up and flogging them as the first sex aid ever to be sold from a convent? More later.