Last day in France

 One more day to go I thought as I walked downstairs into the kitchen. I heard Jolyon coughing and wheezing outside, a cigarette in one hand and his ventilator in another. He announced he was not very well, that he felt ‘broken’ and needed to walk it off around the lakes. He grabbed his cigarettes and ventilator and proceeded to march through the village like Captain Mannering on a mission. I was also feeling pretty horrid and after a strong coffee and some croissant I lay down on Mum’s bed to rest. Because of her broken leg & ankle (another story) she had made up a small bed downstairs. Her kindly neighbours also gave her a pulley to lift herself in and out of bed and a Zimmer frame!! Her sitting room and dining room resembled a hospital ward.

An hour or so into my rest I heard Jolyon march into the kitchen announcing he was feeling much better and could he now order scrambled eggs on toast and coffee. Clearly he had forgotten Mum was practically crippled, and I made it known to him by screaming from my sick bed what a lazy git he was and he should cook it himself!! I then fell back to sleep until I was rudely awoken by the girls who decided it was rather fun to stick their little fingers up my nose. At this point I realised I would never get any rest and got up. Somebody had to ring Avis to arrange for a taxi to collect us and take us back to Bordeaux airport tomorrow. The number on the Avis contract was dead and I had to call their Paris office. After 20 minutes of holding and listening to various recorded messages I was beginning to get very annoyed. At last I was put through to Shona who assured me a taxi would arrive at our house at 08.30am, it would be big enough for 3 adults and 2 children, and also have child seats.

Our flight was 6pm, but we just wanted to get to the airport and Avis were not willing to send a taxi any later in the day. Relieved that we were all sorted Carolyn and me took the girls for a walk around the one small supermarket in the village – Maxi! It was closed. So we walked back to Mum’s and watched Dickinsons Deal with Jolyon.

That evening we all decided to hit the hay early in order to be ready for the taxi. It had been a nice day, at least Carolyn and the twins were feeling better. As I closed the shutters I could hear Jolyon coughing and wheezing below. He was sitting in his little plastic chair outside the kitchen having his final fag and snifter. Mum’s pulley was slowly placing her head on her pillow and the girls were grunting like a couple of piglets. One more sleep to go and then off home.

Goodbye Cransac. It’s been fun!?

Tuesday 7th August – Goodbye Cransac  

Jolyon ordered a coffee and croissant and ate hastily in front of me. I watched my little brother as he was patted on the back by the locals – all of them quite clearly amazed that he was still alive after the Pastis drinking competition (Fred the alcoholic had still not been seen). Jolyon consumed the adoration with glee and his head became a medicine ball of proudness. I called him a dick and asked if he was ready to leave. He was, apart from something of importance he needed to collect from Jesse. I did not question this. For the first time since our arrival we all felt reasonably OK. Our heads were quite clear and I had no reason to vomit or retch. Jesse came and sat down with us. Our flight was late afternoon so Jesse would pick us up from the apartment at 2pm – he would also give Jolyon the ‘package’. Coco came over to our table and started chatting to me. I nodded and grinned.

We moved outside as the sun was out and took a last look at our surroundings. We agreed that this town was the strangest place we had set foot in. The people, albeit very nice, were clearly missing a brain cell. Most did not work and spent their days in the bar or buying scratch cards. Jolyon sat back and blew out a long cloud of smoke. Then he asked me to ‘trot’ to the newsagent and buy 10 scratch cards – I told him to bugger off and opened up my Ipad. As I wrote some of my thoughts down his grubby ET-like finger suddenly started poking at my screen as he questioned what I was doing and how it worked. In a matter of seconds he had managed to lose everything I had written. I snapped shut my Ipad just missing his finger and announced I was off back to the apartment to check we had packed everything.

The apartment revolted me more than I had ever been revolted before. Jolyon’s dirty smelly sheets adorned the floor. On the table there were piles of loose change, used scratch cards, a line of urine smelling 50 Euro notes and two large cheeses! I wrapped each cheese in a plastic bag and shoved them into his man bag. In the bathroom all his ‘man-stuff’ remained. I.e. his miniature toothpaste, miniature tooth brush, miniature shampoo, conditioner and soap. All stuff he had purchased at the airport. The sink was full of white liquid and whiskers. Without realising it I had stood on the soggy stinking shower towel on the floor. I had no shoes on. I wanted to pinch him.

Jolyon returned as I was just getting into the gymnastics. Jesse arrived on time and gave Jolyon a plastic bag. It contained a clean pair of boxers and trousers which had been washed and beautifully ironed by Coco. He threw them into his man bag on top of the cheese. I smirked.

Jesse got the car and parked outside. I was relieved to see it was his own car. We threw in our belongings and I was kicked to the back seat. We drove 50 yards and then stopped outside the bar so we could wave goodbye to everyone. Fred was there at last and he came out to kiss us goodbye and pat Jolyon on the shoulder. The cough mixture lady waved and then started to cough so violently I thought we may have to call the paramedics. I saw Loola the gypsy swaying from side to side as he walked out of the bar and headed to work in the park. And the man-woman in the oily overalls was managing to smoke and eat her lunch at the same time. Coco rushed over and kissed us all 3 times and said something. I grinned and nodded. And then we set off to the airport.

We arrived and jumped out. The plan was to check in and then have a last snifter with Jesse at the bar. I dragged my heavy bag with all the wine to the check in – Jolyon completely oblivious to the fact I could barely carry it. Jolyon waiting outside the terminal smoking and chatting to Jesse. I prayed my case would go through. It did. The camp French man told me I should hurry up to the departure terminal as the flight was ready to leave. I rushed out to Jolyon and told him we needed to go through now. He was astonished and amazed and utterly distraught that we could not have a final snifter.

We made it through and into the departure lounge. We had to wait 40 minutes for our flight which infuriated Jolyon.

The flight was quick.  We managed to consume two glasses of red and then sleep for the journey.  Before I could say tie me to the side of a pig and roll me in the mud, we had arrived.

As I slowly walked to the baggage reclaim, Jolyon sprinted pasted me like John Cleese on route to a smoking area and to meet Gilal our driver.  Once again I was left to pick up the luggage and carry it back to the car.

I dragged my heavy case along the long corridors and thru passport control, out the door and onto the road where I found Jolyon and Gilal . The sweat was dripping down my cheeks as Jolyon made a menopausal joke. I told him to fuck off and gave my bag to him.

As we drove out of Standsted and headed home I took out a mint and sucked hard. Gilal was still fasting and was so thin I thought he would faint at the wheel. I gently tapped on Jolyon’s shoulder and said that I thought Jesse had really enjoyed our company and that I hoped and prayed his operation would be ok. Jolyon’s response was a grunt and a snore and a wheeze and sneeze so foul I thought he had sprayed the dashboard.

I sat back and fell into sleep until Henley Bridge.  I waved at Midge and Graham as we drove passed the Angel on the Bridge, they did not see me. 

As I walked through the door I could hear the children screaming.  Home Sweet Home.  I love Henley!

Fini

 

Bunting, Piss and Cheese

Monday 6th August – Bunting, Piss and Cheese

We sat outside the bar surveying the interbreds. Jesse made us some pasta which was tasty, and eased my funny tummy for a moment. And then it didn’t. I rushed back to the apartment clutching my Gary glitter and praying I would make it. I did. A huge sigh of relief was followed by utter despair – we had no toilet paper. As I started to rip out pages from Jolyon’s classic car magazine he arrived home. He found some tissues in the kitchen and kicked them into the toilet.

As I walked out Jolyon rushed in and slammed the door. He screamed as he realised I had used the tissues he had given to me. After giggling to myself I rang Jesse. I was watching the synchronized swimming when I heard a French man say something out loud and then ducked as a toilet paper was thrown into the apartment. It reminded me of feeding time at the zoo. I grabbed the roll and threw it into Jolyon. It was too late. Classic Car Magazine had bitten the dust!!

It was time to pack. I carefully wrapped each bottle of wine with a pair of my knickers and other clothes. I then placed each bottle and item of clothing in a bag and then wrapped bubble wrap around it (thankfully Jesse had some in his kitchen). Jolyon threw his three damp items of clothing into his man bag and carried on watching TV. He took down the Euro bunting and tucked it into his wallet.

After a quick shower we headed back to the bar for our last night. Fred the alcoholic had still not been since his drinking competition with Jolyon which worried some of the locals, mostly Jesse as he was a good customer. The cough mixture woman was sitting in the corner coughing up balls of phlegm and loudly spitting them into the street. The man-woman with the oily overalls, short hair and moustache was smoking Gitanes and talking to a red-headed woman with tattoos and hairy nostrils. Sergio drove past and waved.

We dodged the ball of phlegm and took a seat at the bar.

Jesse and Coco joined us as we opened a bottle of Rose. We discussed Jesse’s imminent organ transfer and hoped our little visit had helped in some way take his mind of it. He remained silent. Coco took pictures and sat down to speak to me. I nodded and grinned. I have never understood anything Coco has said to me. We ordered another bottle and asked for the bill. Jesse and Coco disappeared. And then returned with a wad of paper. I was scared.

The bill brought tears to my eyes and a glint in Jesse’s. I could not believe how much we had spent in only 4 days – it worked out to nearly £100 per day. Jesse however thought it was Christmas and grinned like a Cheshire cat. I watched as Jolyon pulled out his damp stinky wallet. He pulled each Euro note out individually and placed it on the table for Jesse. Instead of the crisp texture usually associated with a note, these were flimsy and damp and smelt wretched. Jesse picked up the notes, his nostrils were wide and quivering, and for a moment I thought I saw him retch. Job done. We continued drinking.

Coco was still talking to me and my neck was beginning to ache with all the nodding I was doing. I noticed a rather large ugly man walked in with a midget like woman. He smelt mouldy. Coco jumped up and went to speak to him. After ten minutes she took the large man outside and returned with two bags which she gave to me and Jolyon. In pigeon English she announced that these were presents for us both. We opened the bags and our nostrils were assaulted by the smell of the largest piece of mouldy cheese I have ever set eyes on. It was the size of a Frisbee. I felt a little faint, and thought I might vomit on her. Jolyon had suddenly lost his colour. We thanked Coco and placed the cheese in the bag. Then legged it.

At the apartment I watched as the shutter ascended. Jolyon was swaying his bag of cheese in the moonlight and I was wondering how on earth we would get it home. The cough mixture lady walked past and we witnessed the most grotesque ball of phlegm leave her mouth and hit the wall aside the shutter. She then delved into her cardigan pocket and pulled out a small bottle of cough mixture. I watched her guzzle the liquid greedily and then cough loudly.

I walked with haste through the sitting room trying not to inhale my brother’s fumes and leapt into bed. I read a chapter of my book and took a final suck on my mint which resulted in me coughing so hard I front-bottom dribbled. I rearranged my pillow and resumed sleep. Just as I was nodding off I heard Jolyon sneeze three times and then fart. I had a sudden empathy for Cath his girlfriend. The poor poor woman. I wiped away the lonely tear and fell asleep.

Countdown to hometime.

I awoke to a glorious day. I walked into the sitting room and rushed to open the window and shutter. He lay in his pit, on his back, wheezing. An overflowing ashtray was on the floor alongside a pair of his trousers and one lonesome black sock. All around me was putrid and smelly. We had no milk or water and the fruit I had purchased a few days ago had gone off. The smell from the cheese and Jolyon was too much for me to take. I grabbed my bag and went outside.

I walked over the road and into the park. It was beautiful and just as I sat down to update my blog I heard a loud rumbling noise. It was getting closer and closer and I thought for a moment the sky was falling on my head. But no, it was Loola the gypsy. Apparently he is employed by the Council in Cransac to mow the lawns in the park. He was riding a sit on mower and looked as if he’d had a few pastis already. He saw me and headed my way in a zig zagged way. I jumped up and ran for my life. This was too dangerous. I made it to the bar, slipped on some phlegm, heard the cough mixture lady grunt and found a table at the far end.

His shadow hit me like a slap in the face and he sat down at the table and ordered a coffee.

Good morning Jolyon.

Wine Tasting and Hangovers

Monday 6th August – Wine Tasting & Hangovers

I sat at the bar and swallowed two Nurofen. I felt shocking. My head hurt and my stomach was making strange noises. Jesse & Coco were in the kitchen prepping for lunch, the smell made me queasy. The cough mixture lady was sitting at the bar. Her top was tucked into her leggings and she kept sticking her tongue through the gap in her teeth. I watched her arm fat flapping as she tried to swat a fly. I ordered another coffee and people watched. They were all quite odd. Possibly interbred. I bit into the biscuit and for some reason sucked in the air – the biscuit hit the back of my throat and I coughed so hard my eyes & front bottom watered. A strange looking man with a strawberry nose got me some water.

Our trip to date had been an utter disaster. Our intention was to come and see our Brother before his double transplant. Our plan was to spend some quality time with him, have a bit of family bonding. What actually happened is Jolyon got drunk and fell asleep in his dinner on day one, got drunk on day 2 and last night he got so drunk he pissed himself.

My head was throbbing. Jolyon had still not emerged from the apartment so I assumed he was not coming. My stomach was making funny rumbling noises and I prayed I wouldn’t get caught short. Jesse came out with Sergio who was driving us to the Chateaux above Marcillac for the wine tasting. I was not looking forward to this.

I sat in the back of his car swaying from left to right, trying hard not to vomit. The Black Crows were playing very loudly. He drove like a possessed man through the French countryside, occasionally mounting the verge. Jesse sat in the front rolling his cigarette and speaking French. I tried to converse, but as my only sentence in French was, “another large one please,” I kept quiet. At one point I thought I was going to puke and pass a poo at the same time. Wind was building up but I could not let it go in the car – I had to hold on until we reached the Chateaux. I was in pain.

We took a corner and drove up into the hills. The roads got thinner, I felt sicker, and Sergio drove faster. I prayed we would arrive shortly. I pulled an extra strong mint out of my bag and sucked violently. Right now, I wanted to be anywhere but in the back of this car. It was hot, with no aircon. My head hurt, I had wind, and possibly a runny bottom. This was the kind of recipe that ended in disaster. I wanted to go home.

At last the car slowed as we drove up a bumpy lane and into the grounds of the most exquisite Chateaux. As I surveyed the beauty and lusciousness around me I suddenly had the urge to puke. I leant out of the window and noticed a dead dog on the gravel. I shouted to Serge to stop the car. As we pulled to a sudden halt a ruddy faced man with long furry sideburns rushed out and picked up the dog and placed him in the barn. The dog was not dead. Just old and crusty. And so smelly I retched.

Michael Durand was the proprietor and chief wine maker. He owned the chateaux with his brother and between them made wonderful red wine that the supermarkets had just found out about. I asked for the WC and ran like the wind. As I threw my tanner lady into the bin I surveyed the room. Thankfully it was a toilet, but it was grubby and old fashioned. I walked out and thru an equally old fashioned kitchen. Michael Durand the proprietor was standing outside talking to Jesse and Serge. It was about 33 degrees.  My stomach was making strange noises again and the stinky dog has its nose in my front bottom. I joined the boys and tried to look interested as I carefully kneed the dog away. I had no idea what they were talking about so I laughed when everybody else laughed and this made him talk directly to me.

40 minutes later the wine tasting starts.  We move to a barn and down some stairs. And then we all turn around and walk back up the stairs. I am given a grubby plastic cup. I am poured a thimble full of wine and take a sip. Fucking horrible!! I looked at the boys around me as they swirled it around their mouth and then swallowed. They were all nodding their heads and clearly enjoying it. I could barely swallow the stuff. We were then given another thimble full of wine. This was lovely. I smiled at Mr Blusher and he started talking to me again. I suppressed a yawn and looked at Jesse in despair. I pushed the dog out of my ass again and decided to walk towards the car. I whispered to Jesse I liked the second taster we had and would like to purchase half a dozen bottles. And could we hurry up. I felt sick. I wanted to go home. And that godforsaken dog was pissing me off.

Finally the deal was done and we left. We cruised into Cransac and jumped out at the bar. No sign of Jolyon yet. No sign of Fred the alcoholic.

The cough mixture woman was eating her lunch. It was a disgusting sight to see the food swirling around in her mouth and then flying out onto the table. I decided to head back to the apartment to see if Jolyon was still alive.