Transalp

 Sold the Honda CB1300S recently and downsized to a Honda 650 Transalp (as mentioned in a previous posting) which came with a very useful Givi topbox and a couple of Givi 'Keyless' panniers. As the name implies, the panniers are opened not with a key but by entering a three digit code into the locking mechanism. This system works fine providing you know the code. However, the previous owner didn't know the code and, consequently, had never used the panniers so they look almost new, but new panniers are a fat lot of good if they can't be opened.

Checked the internet for info regarding opening said panniers when the code isn't known. A couple of people had struck lucky when slowly going through some of the ten thousand possible number permutations, while others had given up and contacted Givi to fit new locks. But then I spotted a good tip from someone who may have been a bank robber or a native of Liverpool, or both. His advice was to point torchlight into the tiny space between the three numbered wheels, then gently turn each wheel and, with the aid of a magnifying glass, look for a slight notch in the wheel's spindle. When that notch was spotted, that wheel should be in the right position. Then do the same with the other two wheels and the lock should open. Then write down the code in a safe place.

Tried this devious ploy without success. Probably because I didn't have a magnifying glass. Was about to open the damned panniers with the aid of an axe when I ran out of time and had to whizz off to Limoges airport to pick up Georgie. Arrived back home and explained the problem and possible solution to her. Five minutes later she'd opened both panniers, thus confirming she has microscopic vision as well as nimble fingers and loads of patience. Needless to say, I have none of those things.

Took a photo of the bike yesterday evening after I'd given it a bit of a clean and checked the tyre pressures in readiness for today's run to Guéret to register myself as the new owner. Left the panniers in the garage when I took the shots, which is probably where they'll stay until Georgie and I do a big trip somewhere. Anyways, have just returned from Guéret and the bike went well. It may be a comparative tiddler but it's a perfect tool for whizzing around the local roads. Dead chuffed.

    

The cottage

Georgie flew out just over a week ago and a couple of days later we were in Tulle completing the purchase of  'the cottage'. Paperwork done and keys handed over, we went with the vendor to the insurance office to get the building insured in our names. However, there was a bit of a hitch due to his insurance being held in their Paris office (would take too long to explain) so we then followed him to his local water office to register as the new owners for water billing purposes. Again, another hitch - the office was closed. Vendor very apologetic. No problem. We revisited the insurance office a few days later and arranged house insurance. We still have to arrange water, electricity and telephone in our names but will do so eventually.

On our second Tulle trip (to visit the insurance office) we loaded up the dogwagon with gardening stuff (strimmer etc.), house cleaning stuff (broom, dustpan etc.) and a few provisions (Thermos, water and ham sarnies) so we could spend the afternoon getting a bit of fresh air into the place and generally tidying up and getting acquainted with our latest maison. Made a pleasant change to see the house on a sunny day - we'd seen the place twice before and both times it was grey and dismal. After clearing a few cobwebs and sweeping up indoors, we began working on the garden. Actually, not so much a garden, more a jungle. With high grass and abundant stinging nettles, we faced quite a challenge. And the searing heat didn't help much either. Anyways, by early evening (around 6.30pm) the place was looking a little less junglyfied so we downed tools, packed up and headed for home via the Millevaches route (very pretty on a sunny summer's evening). Arrived home at around eightish in dire need of a shower and eagerly anticipating a cool scotch'n'dry on the terrace before a bit of welcome grub.

But..., phone rang. Isabelle. Come round immediately with Georgie for supper. Rats. Much as I appreciate having extremely friendly neighbours, one of the many reasons for snapping up 'the cottage' is to regain a lost sense of independence and seclusion. Although one couldn't hope for nicer neighbours than Isabelle and Christian, there are times when I just want to be left alone, especially now Georgie's here. Sounds ungrateful, I know, but there you go.

     

Raising dosh

Expensive times coming up. Buying that cottage next week so bang go most of our savings. Mind you, I'd rather have dosh invested in property rather than it feeding greedy bankers in a UK savings account for next to zero interest.

And Georgie's just about to go freelance, which means loads of Apple computery stuff has to be bought. Managed to cover that cost by selling my Greeves motorcycle last week. Chap came over from the UK and whisked it off on the back of his VW camper.

Then we've the added expense of building a car port (keeps the sun off in summer - what summer? - and the snow off in winter) on the side of the house which Christian's brother is threatening to knock up sometime in July. Could be somewhere around two to three thousand euros. Rather than delve into the little that's left of our savings after the cottage purchase, I figured the best way of raising the necessary dosh would be to downsize my road motorcycle. So I advertised the Honda CB1300S for sale and a French chap from Limoges came round last week-end to have a look. Said he'd buy it and he's coming round on Sunday to do the deal.

Spent the last couple of days looking for a cheaper replacement on Leboncoin (French sales site that's much more popular than eBay). Spotted a good 'un yesterday morning (Friday), up for grabs at nearby Crocq. Rang the chap and arranged to see the bike (a 650 Honda Transalp) that afternoon. "Is your house easy to find?" I asked. "Do you know the chateau in the main street?" he responded. "Er, the big long one next door to the boucherie?" "Oui, that one, that's where I live."

I know that boucherie well. It's highly rated by the locals and it's where Isabelle and Christian buy their meats. Visited a few times myself and have always been intrigued by this adjacent chateau which appeared to be unoccupied and beginning to fall into disrepair. Came as a bit of a surprise that someone was actually living there.

Parked up out front and went to what I assumed was the front door. No sign of a bell and it didn't look like the door had been opened in years. Obviously not the entry point. Spotted a big gateway to the right of the chateau. Gates were open so I wandered in. Interestingly, the back of the chateau looked even more impressive (in a dilapidated kinda way) than the main street side, so the back was the front and the front was the back, if you get my drift. Nobody seemed to be about but there was a car parked under a massive tree so I knew someone was in. Heard a welcoming shout from an open upstairs window. Chap came down and apologised for his scruffy appearance. Turned out he'd bought the place a year ago and was now busily renovating.

Followed him to the stables and checked the Transalp over. All seemed fine. Told him that my buyer was coming round on Sunday morning so, providing my sale went through, I'd be able to buy with cash on Sunday afternoon. Fingers crossed that nobody beats me to it today (Saturday) or tomorrow morning.

Bike inspection done, we went inside the chateau so the chap could jot down my details and show me the paperwork. Blimey, thought I, this was one hell of a renovation project but the work done to the kitchen showed that this chap was setting about it the right way. Original features were being retained but tastefully complemented with modern goodies. Following my ooh-ing and aah-ing about his impressive renovation work, he invited me to follow him on a quick guided tour of the chateau. Further oohs and aahs ensued as I wandered gobsmacked from room to room. Apparently the building had stood empty for forty years but, luckily, no great damage had been done. Even the delightfully ornate (and original?) wallpapers were still looking good. Asked the chap if he was intending to strip the paper off and redecorate. "No way", he said. Then he explained that he was an antiques dealer who'd long been looking for a project like this. He'd sold up, moved down here from Normandy and his plan is to live in the west wing and convert a few rooms into holiday lets. Being in antiques he's very keen to retain the originality of this chateau magnifique whilst at the same time providing it with modern amenities like wiring, plumbing and bathrooms etc.

Finally, I asked if the French government was providing financial assistance with this challenging project. Apparently not. Such a shame. Although I guess this chap isn't short of a bob or two, I feel that he deserves a bit of state funding because not only is he saving a fine chateau from ruin but, it could be argued, he's also doing his bit for French tourism. I departed feeling that the current socialist French government hasn't quite yet got its head around the idea of supporting free enterprise and cutting back on irresponsible spending (e.g. I understand rail workers can retire with generous state pensions when they reach the ridiculously young age of 52). Wakey, wakey, Monsieur Hollande, time's running out, time for change.

If my bike sells on Sunday and I have a fistful of euros, and if some other buyer doesn't beat me to this chap's Transalp before Sunday afternoon, I'll go back there cash in hand, snap up the bike and hopefully take a few snaps of the chateau's interior - something I forgot to do yesterday due to too much ooh-ing and aah-ing.

The longest day

The thing I like about the longest day is the sunset. That's when the sun is at its most northerly point on the western horizon. It's sort of become an annual habit to nip up the back lane with Jock and take a few snaps of the sunlight passing through a tree tunnel and hitting the side of the house. Trouble was, the early evening clouds blotted out the sun so I thought I wouldn't get that annual photo this year. But then the sun blasted out from beneath the clouds, so I quickly grabbed the camera and headed up the lane. Just managed to catch the last of the sun's rays hitting the side of the house, plus a couple of other shots from up the lane. Jock was a bit miffed though as it was way past his grub time so he kept hanging back. When I turned back he was overjoyed and quickly trotted back home. Fed the brute and then lit the kitchen stove. I think this is the first year the stove's been lit on the longest day. Almost July and it's still a bit chilly. Ah well, here we go, the evenings are creeping in already. Soon be Christmas.

  

Rain again

Yes, I know I keep blethering on about the weather, but it really is quite extraordinary for the time of year. Take last Thursday for example, dull and chilly all day, but then it sort of brightened up in the evening so I was quite looking forward to sitting outside with a soirée aperitif in the evening sun. But it was not to be. Cathedral clouds (as I call them) gathered in the east and what looked rain headed up from the south. Watched it approach across the valley where the sunlit hills slowly disappeared in a haze of grey, then a rainbow, then the downpour. Shuffled indoors and lit the kitchen stove. Lighting the stove in June is almost unheard of, yet this year it seems almost a daily habit. Will this winter never end?!

Glow

Spotted a glowworm last night. Took a quick snap without flash, then another with. Because it was dark I couldn't see a thing, just a luminous green glow. The flash picture turned out a bit disappointing. I was hoping that it would show the whole of the beetle's body, but it didn't. All it showed was the tail end poking out from behind a nettle leaf. Am now determined to get a better snap. Nicked a good 'un from the internet. Did a quick bit of researching and discovered that the females glow to attract a mate, while the males light up to warn hungry frogs that they taste awful so go hunt elsewhere. So what happens if a randy male cuddles up to a glowing male? Sorry mate, I thought you were a girl. You calling me a girl? Punch up.

Flowery stuff

Georgie's asked how the garden's going. Told her "fine, still seems to be there." Then she asked to see some pics. Rattled off a few yesterday morning before the afternoon's deluge. Clouds rolled in, the sky turned black and the rain bucketed down. Took a few more snaps this morning. The pouring rain battered the few poppies that had opened so they look a bit bruised çe matin. However, others have now opened and are currently enjoying some sunshine. The rain also battered the irises and I've had to prop one back up with a stick. In one of the shots of the blue flowery things, you'll notice they've all flopped outwards in a circle with the central bit open to the elements. This isn't due to the plant getting tired and having a nap, but simply because it got flattened by one of the snowstorms in May that I mentioned in a previous posting. Due to all this recent rain, the weeds and lawn have shot up. Would have attacked the lawn with the lawn mower but the damned thing's being repaired. Popped in there about a week ago and asked when it'd be ready. "Soon," they said. Mind you, they said the same thing about three weeks ago when I dropped the mower off with them. Borrowed Christian's mower last Friday and had a go at slaughtering the triffids. Exhausting work because the stuff was thick and damp. I now have a mammoth pile of damp grass out by the woodshed which, hopefully, will disappear when I get around to starting a bonfire. Need a lot more sunshine before that happens though.