Hot & floral

We've been working our socks off (right down to vest & shorts too) in the garden and it's looking pretty good. The irises have been spectacular but are almost over, only to be replaced by roses, ceanothus, arum lilies, and bignonia campsis. The Banksia rose tree which is over 4 metres high looks magnificent too. And the 100 year old rose outside the office is as extraordinary as ever with huge creamy pink edged blooms. There are ample for us to put them in the guests' rooms.

Picnic in the vineyards

Each summer we try to encourage guests to leave their cars outside and take to the Le Couvent bikes. There are seven like this for you to borrow. There's really nothing more lovely than buying a baguette and some cheese, picking fresh tomatoes in the Le Couvent garden, packing a bottle of wine, corkscrew & glasses and peddling off into the vineyards with a good book and some factor 30.

It's officially summer

I know this because two things have happened. The cover came off the pool yesterday - it was 26 degrees, after all. And Hoxton the hen has taken up her summer sleeping position on the window-sill of the convent gallery.

The birds are singing their socks off too, and I've seen our resident hoopoe and Billy the bat several times already. Yesterday a kind person gave me four agaves. I'm delighted because, apparently, they are bats' great favourite. I hope Billy many-mates enjoys them. Ali's not to sure - she thinks agaves grow too big and look cactus-y.

Almost there

After a short, warm winter we are about to re-open for the summer - in two days' time. This is almost the busiest time of the year for us, preparing the house to look lovely for guests. Here's Poppy, my niece, re-oiling pool sunbeds. The pool isn't open for another month or so, but the sun's out and there are tans to be had.

Our forward bookings are fantastic, and it seems that many more people from Australia, Canada and the USA are preparing to travel this year. I assume our whopping increase in pre-bookings is down the the (blush) jolly nice ratings and comments previous guests have given us on TripAdvisor. To each and every one of you, a huge thank you and an even bigger hug. Come back soon eh? You've made Le Couvent, Roujan the most highly rated B&B in the Languedoc. Thank you. Of course, we now live in fear and dread of a rotten review from someone who'd like to knock us off our perch, but it's just making us work even more thoughtfully to ensure people have a good time.

The sun's out, the chimneys have been swept, the boiler's been serviced, the garden's full of irises in bloom, the bedrooms look lovely, the kitchen and hall have been redecorated, the bikes have been serviced, the new hen-chicks have arrived, the older hens are in full production. Now all we need is for the first-of-the-season guests to arrive. Roll on the summer!

Blue skies and bad forecasts

I've just finished preparing the hanging baskets and pots for the balconies, so naturally Meteo France tells us we're going to have arctic conditions next week. I so hope not. Here's how it looks today.

Green paint and shingle

As if painting the blue bedroom, the whole of the kitchen and starting in on the hall wasn't enough, Ali decided the dresser in the kitchen could do with a new look. So gone is the yellowing paint of fifteen years. Now it looks like it should be in the shed. I paid £10 for it in 1978 from a school where I worked. It'll look great when it's filled with home-made jams and preserves.


Meanwhile, yesterday, I hired a huge tipper truck, made several runs to the aggregate yard, then struggled to get the truck up our drive. The truck was enormous, much larger than any I'd hired before. So we now have huge scores in the road where the truck gouged out chunks whilst mounting the drive. Still, 5 tonnes is in and almost spread. The courtyard's looking a thousand times better.


Our lovely friend, Erzsi, who lives in the village, came to help shovel and rake. I'll bet she didn't sleep a wink from aching arms and back. It's extremely hard work. Thanks Erzsi!




This morning I'm off to Pezenas market to buy more plants. It was 27 degrees here yesterday. It can't last, but it feels incredibly summery. It's great for starting off the plants early so we'll just pray there's no frost.

We re-open for the summer at Easter - book now while the flights are sooo cheap. 00 33 467 24 64 37

RyanAir - yukky but cheap airline. Travels from Stansted, Luton and many other airports to Montpellier, Perpignan, Carcassonne & Nime - all within 1.5 hours from Le Couvent

Eurostar/TGV - lovely superfast train, loads of hand luggage and not much use of fossil fuels, but probably more expensive - catch it via Eurostar in London, one platform change in Lille, then the TGV all the way here to either Montpellier, Agde or Beziers - all less than 45 minutes from Le Couvent.

Independent reviews of Le Couvent with Tripadvisor, just so you know what others think.

And a bit of inspiration for an insignificant Wednesday in February.

'Tis the season to be busy, tra la la la la, la la la la

Having said the blue bedroom was no longer going to be blue, we've changed our minds. It looks lovely in the summer light. So here are Freddie (aka Justin) and Ali up ladders a-plastering and a-painting.

Last night nephew Josh & I went to a talk about Mediterranean gardening in Beziers. Josh is 14 so I wasn't hopeful that he'd bear up to someone droning on about plants, but it was clear enough and short enough at just over an hour. Then we bought a fantastic book - Kitchen Gardens of France - which led him to proclaim divinely beautiful vegetable plots totally cool. His summer veg box scheme looks a go-er if he keeps up this enthusiasm.

Meanwhile the hens are coming back into lay. One of them had a bit of a lie-in the other morning. I wonder if she was the one that laid the odd-one-out in the photo. It's a tear-jerker, and enough for an omelet.

The Six Nations Cup Rugby's happening at the moment, and we're able to see all the matches on ordinary french telly (unlike Ali's family in Oz where it's on the pay-for channels only). I'm dying for the Rugby World Cup to arrive here in France at the end of the summer. We have tickets to see matches in Montpellier, and B&B guests who are coming from Australia to go to various games. It'll be a great way to end our season. If you're planning to come to this area in September, you'd better be quick, places are getting booked up.

Changes to the landscape - inside & out

What is it about blogging that one should feel guilty when one hasn't posted for a while. Anyway, it's because we've be doing major amounts of gardening and re-decorating. The warmer weather and longer days are here and we've just realised we re-open in six weeks' time. So, how to make Le Couvent even more beautiful?

For the past five years I've struggled to keep a section of grass in front of the 17th century part of the house. I've always thought it relaxed the eye and made it all look cooler in the blisteringly hot months of the summer. But it's been a huge struggle to keep it looking good. I've had the heat, lack of water and dogs against me. So, in the process of reflection to see what we can do to reduce our effect on climate change, I've decided to let the grass go. It's been seen off. The shingle comes in next week. It's meant moving the roses that used to be in the middle, so now they're here, where the table and hammock used to be. Josh had a little help from Kit.

Meanwhile Ali passes her days modelling a particularly fetching pair of white overalls whilst redecorating the blue bedroom. It's not going to be blue any longer, although I'm sure we'll still call it that, just to confuse guests. This is a huge disappointment to Poppy and Yvonne and John and all those people who've enjoyed the soft and faded blue. But Ali and I never really thought the room worked as well as it promised when we saw it as a wreck all those years ago. So this is the last you'll see of it like this:

Today I'm off to a wine tasting in Marseillan. It's the wine of the son of Christiane, one of our wonderful women who comes to the English class. There's a lot of good rugby on the box this afternoon, so this will be a labour of love. I'm not really given to chinking glasses at 3 in the afternoon. It's difficult not to get a bit drunk on the fumes, a fact corroborated by our friend the wine expert Rosemary George who spends her life spitting out wine.

But Christiane is a good and kind woman who, each summer, invites us to the most amazing meals in a little mazet in the middle of her vineyards. There, by the light of the moon and hurricane lamps, we have a feast. Christiane prepares it all at her home then transports it lock, stock amd barrel into the mazet which is just one room with no water, drainage or electricity. So who am I to be churlish about missing a rugby match?

Hands up those who like winter

Ali's on the fabulous TGV, the high speed train that whistles through France from top to bottom in very few hours. She shouldn't have been, of course, but she went to dinner in London last night and woke to find snow so deep the airports had all been closed. So, unable to bear the thought of a second night away from the lovely Languedoc, she abandoned her flight and hit the train. The photo is of Blackheath Church in London this morning. It's from the BBC website and was taken by Maurice Tunney - thanks.

I spent the morning working on the Deux-Pieds website. This is where you can buy your last minute St Valentine's present (for your lover or yourself) - the adoption of a dozen vines. It includes a complete package of details about your vine, a soil sample, a dozen wines each labelled with your name or to whomever you wish. There are lessons in blending wines and invitations to the harvest. Take a look eh?

France goes no-smoking

Unbelievably, it is now illegal to smoke in public places here in France, and in a year's time that will extend to cafes and restaurants too.

"A world is collapsing," writer Philippe Delerm wrote in a front-page ode to the cigarette in Le Monde newspaper, referring to the alluring image of the chain-smoking intellectual. "Those were good times. But nobody thought about the collateral damage."

One of the things I just loved about coming to France was the instant recognition of where I was in the world, defined by the infusion of Gauloises everywhere. I shall miss it.

Of course, giving up smoking the year before last has left me with a huge body as I swiftly went from 20 cigarettes to 20 meals a day. I no longer want to smoke, but the food thing - ah, now that's much more difficult.

Ali, in an (very successful thus far) attempt to reduce smoking moved on to roll-ups. She's an elegant woman, but rolling one's own in public is not so chic so they can be rolled in the privacy of one's home in advance. This is the tin in which they are kept.

Deux-Pieds - adopting vines in the Languedoc

I realise I haven't told you about our most recent project. With three friends we are creating a vine adoption scheme which is called Deux-Pieds giving people the chance to bury their own two feet into the soil of the Languedoc.

For a 190 Euros you can adopt 12 vines which will be labelled with your name. You will receive a certificate of adoption, an information leaflet about the parcel of land that contains your vines and a sample of soil from the vineyard. Over one year you can follow the progress of your vines via the Deux-Pieds blog to which each member of our team contributes. You'll learn a great deal about the raising of vines and the creation of wine. Ali & I have learnt more in the past four meetings of the team than we have in almost five years of living here.

During the year you will be invited to come to take part in the harvest and the blending of the wines. At the end of the year you will receive 12 bottles of wine from Domaine Bourdic where your vines are planted.

We can think of lots of people who'd like this as a gift (us included) - perhaps you do too.

Trams, Valmagne and St Pons de Mauchiens

You know, we never go outandabout during the summer. Our house is a B&B so we're here to look after the every whim of our guests. But in winter, when we're closed, we can go exploring. Last weekend we went to Perpignan, primarily to go to the flea market, but for a for a bit of a look around. No-one was about, the weather was glorious and I had the best paella ever in a wonderful old bistro called Casa Sansa which has been knocking out scrummy food since 1846.

Yesterday we toddled off to L'Abbaye de Valmagne with the lovely Alex, Ali and my belle-soeur, Michelle. On the way we passed through Montagnac and spotted a new tram for Montpellier being hauled on a magnificent truck with at least 48 wheels. It dwarfed everything around it and we could only wonder why they hadn't chosen to use the motorway.

On we bobbled in Alex's Noddy-Kangoo to the magnificent Abbaye de Valmagne - an extraordinarily beautiful Gothic and Romanesque wonder in very good repair. Well worth the visit if one reckons that a good part of the rather steep entrance fee (6.70 euros per person even in the depths of winter) goes to its upkeep. I was touched by the presence of an IKEA uplighter in the picture below.

Continuing our jolly jaunt, St Pons de Mauchiens was our next stop. It's not a very inviting name for a very beautiful ancient village. Legend has it that one of the lords of the castle owned a pack of ferocious dogs ("chien" in French) that he let loose at night. One day he arrived home late and the doors to the castle were locked. The dogs did not recognise their master, so savagely attacked his throat and tore him to pieces.

Despite the dodgy story I thought St Pons rather a kind place. Needing to top up on red wine, but being low on funds, we called in at the cave co-operative. A friendly chap filled the foil liner of a BIB (bag-in-box - yes, it's that in French) with 10 litres of perfectly quaffable wine - straight from a petrol-station type nozzle in the wall. He apologised for having to charge us 2 euros for the bag and box on top of the mere 9 euros for the ten litres of wine. Mmm, about 85 pence a litre in UK terms - including the box. Not bad methinks.

Today I'm waiting for the log man. One of two log men. Last week I ordered 3 steres of logs from one of them - a new supplier recommended by our lovely plump butcher, Frank. I'll deliver at the beginning of the week, he promised. That was ten days ago. Meanwhile, after such a long no-show, yesterday I ordered 4 steres (cubic metres) from my usual log man. He rang this morning to say he'd be here in five minutes. That was eight hours ago. The other log man's due tomorrow morning, according to his wife who pleaded with me not to cancel the order. So by the end of the weekend we could have 7 cubic metres or none. We'll see.

Ali's gone off to walk the dogs in the vineyards and find inspiration for her new blog.

Wow! You can read precious manuscripts online

I've just spent an hour or so looking through the wonderful manuscripts of William Blake and Leonardo Da Vinci at the British Library. Of course I wasn't there in person – I'm actually sitting here in my dressing gown, on my computer, with the aid of the Internet. The truly amazing bit about it is that the software (which only works with Windows Vista) allows you to turn the pages, rotate the book, magnify parts, and follow notes. It's spectacular. And can be found here: http://ttpdownload.bl.uk/browserapp.xbap - If you have Vista (it's only been released for a day, but you might have been quick off the mark)

Chillin' out with the pups

Thought you might like to know about essential dog-walking kit in January in the south of France. From the top down. Bright orange woolly hat to protect ears and signal to zealous hunters that you're not a grizzly bear. Lavender fleecy scarf to stop nose dropping off. One shirt and two woolly jumpers (unseen) beneath black sheepskin coat (bought really for smart outings but keeps bottom warm so what the hell.) Walking boots and cords. Thermal underwear still in cupboard waiting for REALLY cold day. Dog harnesses for easy catching. Colour co-ordination - not a hope.
Yes, winter has finally come, thank God. It's been gorgeous and balmy til now but weird in a scary global-warming sort of a way, so it's a great relief that we've moved on from autumn and are racing through the logs in the wood-pile. To misplace winter would be careless indeed. Up in the vineyard the wind is bob-sleighing off the Pyrenees. Flynn the husky is in his Siberian element and the slightly less aerodynamic Kit the labra-dish barrels on in blissful sniff-dom. It's freezing in the wind but wonderful.
Oh yes, the sunglasses. Essential. There's still not a cloud in the bright blue sky.
(Walk statistics. Poos: 2 Pees: 473 Hunters: 1 Running away: 0)

I can't keep on about the weather..

..but it really is the hot topic here. It has to be about 18 degrees - on January 6th. We had lunch on the balcony in our shirtsleeves. Seems most odd that I'm about to take the Christmas tree down. What happened to slipping on ice when the tree goes out of the front door? Ali never takes her sunglasses off, but this winter she's needed them.


I tried to take a photo of the sun on the balcony, but a dog called Kit (the piglete) got in the way. Now you know what a flea sees.


Just about every day, after lunch, our very bored Portuguese neighbour, Maria, comes to ask why we rarely go to visit her. The answer is always the same - we're busy - and she comes every day, so when would we go? But she is huge fun and has an excellent, if rude, sense of humour. I call her my French aunt. She took citizenship here donkey's years ago. As she's our main reason for daily French, we probably speak it with a Portuguese accent.


I told her I would put her photo on the internet. She said 'then your Mum will say "that's the little old woman from over the road"'. She's 80 and a real treat. Life here would be a lot less without her.

Happy New Year !

Well, I'm a bit late, as usual. It's now three days into 2007, so forgive me. It's suddenly the time for updating websites so I've been working on a new one for Kilnwood Alpacas in deepest Oxfordshire. I can't give it a link yet as it isn't finished and it's all Top Secret until then.

Of course Microsoft, in it's panic to nail everything down after years of criticism for producing vulnerable software, has released Internet Explorer 7 which has broken millions of websites. Any site you go to now which asks you to click loads of confirmation boxes before you can move an inch is probably a victim. For me it has meant a complete re-write of the alpaca site since the menus were shot to pieces. Never mind, I prefer the look of the new one.

A short blog today as I have to go to install a lovely new Dell laptop and ADSL for some people in Puissalicon. Will I be able to pass La Croix Belle, makers of the luscious-est wine in the region, without popping in for a bottle or two?

Last day of 2006

Up early again and fiddling on my computer. Sun pouring in through Mother Superior's window beside me. This is the time of year that I do the major updates to the Le Couvent website This morning I've been creating one of those tiny icons that comes up next to the site name - called favicons. It takes ages and is completely pointless, but there you go.

Josh just phoned to say he wants the key to the top-top garden to do some hoeing and tidying up. He's fourteen. Why isn't he molesting girls and pushing drugs? The price of living in a small french village I guess.

Typing can get so dull

Wow! Where did all that time go?

Here we are on the 29th December, a whole month since I lasted wrote anything here. Well, I hope everyone has had as good a Christmas as us. We stayed here at the lovely convent and did a hundred practical things and read brilliant books. (I have just finished We Need to Talk About Kevin which is just too good not to read.) Ali had a wonderful time prancing round the new ancient floor with a huge tin of wax and an old electric polisher. Now her floor looks like this:


To really appreciate these tiles you have to know that every one (over a thousand) was taken up, the floor beneath them removed (it's one floor up), the beams beneath replaced, a new concrete floor poured, all the tiles soaked for weeks then an inch of hard mud was chipped by hand from the back of each one by Ali, then cleaned and stored. 60 square metres was relaid by my brother, Justin, then sealed and polished by Ali. A labour of passion. And don't they look magnificent?

OK - so that's it for the tiles for another 400 years. END.

While Ali was doing that Josh and I made solitaire puzzles out of a bit of old french door - the one to Jean de Pouzolle's grenier, in fact. (The rest had been used to make the blue shed in my garden last spring) Josh was suitably pround of his, and this is the one I made and gave to Poppy for Christmas. Needless to say she learnt how to solve it flawlessly in a matter of minutes.


Whilst on the subject of making things, Justin (AKA Freddie) and I had a go at making a Christmas decoration out of some lights and a couple of wire coat-hangers. Of course it looked like coat-hangers and lights when we'd finished but it used up an hour very pleasurably.


Come Christmas Day the dogs and I woke early, as usual, and Kit was insistent on getting Ali up early too. Though not as early as nephew Josh, who, despite being nearly 15, took his parents tea at 3.30am, coffee at 4.30am, did the spuds and made a yorkshire pudding, then fell asleep on the sofa until 9.30am when the rest of the house got up.


Niece Poppy took a shine to a Ralph Lauren brown pinstripe suit of Ali's so spent Christmas looking rather too smartly dressed for a 12 year old in a tiny french town.



Gouttiere, the cat, however, took a shine to the geese which we shoved in the oven before she could haul them off.


Somewhat worryingly, since she's not a very affable cat, she's also taken a shine to Flynn the husky's bed. As you can see he's none too keen on chucking her out. He values his eyes too much.