The French Renovation

Ten reasons to be grossed out and miserable in Cousein Bas: 1) It is 8.45pm, and the temperature in the shade, without any exaggeration, which, I admit, I am prone to do, is 42 degrees Celsius. I'm exhausted, sweaty and smelly.* 2) The flies don't give up. I'm surrounded. I'm easy meat. 3) The water pressure that bursts the hose does not transfer to the caravan shower. 4) Cottage No. 1 is absolutely filthy.** Kevin is still in there now, bless him, knocking down two hundred year old ceilings that have acted as a massive dish for the attic poo of a million mice. 5) The barns smell foul. I can smell them from quite a way away. They weren't heated up when we bought the place. There's a wasps' nest on the back of the door of the one I have to keep going in with rubble. 6) Polly spends all day collapsed in a sleepy heap. She starts to feel a bit more lively late at night and wants to stay out with the naughty cats. We can't allow that. She must instead

Two bedrooms cleared (nearly) and knocked into one sitting room. Bit telling that the wall to the left, which was the old man's bedroom, was 'insulated' with a layer of polystyrene. We're up a mountain. I guess it must get very cold in the winter.   Clearing the kitchen makes me gag; it's disgusting! Priceless French nick-knacks in the decheterie pile. A decheterie is a waste tip, but you would NOT believe how organised they are: painted wood, unpainted wood, woodwormed wood, stiff plastic, wobbly plastic, coloured plastic...   French bits perhaps to keep? Woodworm Hill.

Proper hot chillies are not ordinarily stocked by French supermarkets. These ones are large and long, but pack no punch at all! Luckily, we brought some of our own.  This rather attractive feather decorates my photo of these terrifyingly large woodworm holes, which, unfortunately, riddle everything in Cottage No.1... so much for restoring all of this gorgeous French oak furniture! Some pieces might survive after a spray of chemicals. If I told you the feather was 20cm long, would you believe me? Today, the clouds have mostly been baguettes!

Beautiful butterfly, one of many different types I've never seen before...

Thank goodness for Mr Technical!

Polly ventures a little further from the caravan each day, but she is ever vigilant! She's not impressed by the nightly visits to our camp by some local stray cats, who either break into and eat her food, or caterwaul for her to come out to play. Last night, she was reluctant to retire to the safety of the caravan at bedtime; we think she wanted to confront the strays. We eventually persuaded her that that was probably not very wise. The furthest she's ventured from the caravan so far is about twenty feet, but that was only because we were standing there calling her, and even then, she succumbed to an attack of the jitters after a minute and raced back to camp.

Setting up camp...

Well, all of that travel planning for Polly seems pretty useless now. Nobody wanted to look at her passport, or her, for that matter. It seems that we are free to bring anything into France! We did travel through Dover and Calais in our mini-convoy the day before the 'problems' at the ports, so we feel very lucky. It rained and rained during our journey to Poitiers to collect the caravan, but, that evening, the skies cleared, and France started to heat up. Theresa at Le Serpolin campsite was charming and very helpful. We stayed our first night there in our caravan. It had been sitting a while, so the marvellous features such as shower and toilet were not yet ready to go. Polly was happy to stay in the caravan after spending twelve hours in her cage. Poor Polly! She wouldn't venture outside anyway, as there was a goat tethered nearby. Driving from Poitiers to Cousein Bas was very slow due to numerous roadworks, unusual in France. Towing the caravan meant that our top speed

Polly is getting excited about her move to France.* She spent a painful hour and a half at the vets applying for a passport and receiving her Rabies jab. These things don't normally take longer than an hour, but there was an emergency with a diabetic dog, and there is only one vet at the practice who is qualified to issue passports. I don't think he does it very often- he was quite nervous about committing to paper, and made two errors, (TWO! Argh!) requiring scribbling out and initialing. I tried not to mind, but please...  Something unspeakable happened during the wait... A very big rottweiler did a very big poop on the waiting room floor! Yes! I had to stand at the door and hold it open to the fresh air, with Polly in her basket in my arms. One of the veterinary nurses, the smallest one, had to scoop it all up and mop around with disinfectant. I don't know why she chose to do this at a snail's pace. Polly was not impressed by the fact that all of the other customer