August Rush
As the long hot summer continues in earnest, work on the terrace similarly continues. Visiting friends play their part with pride, placing stones and helping with the liming.
But more about the terrace later; we recently escaped to watch the Tour de Limousin fly through Masseret. An event like this is never confined to the main act, however! There were entertainers and pop-up restaurants and bars to enjoy too.
We waited with anticipation for over an hour, but, when the bicycles eventually came, they were only around for a fleeting moment. (This echoes my previous Tour de France experience in Tonbridge, Kent. But, at least, on that occasion, there were lots of free gifts being distributed from the leader cars: tee-shirts, caps, sweets, map books, flags...) The cyclists had just completed a gruellingly steep climb to reach us at the Tour de Masseret, so water was being handed out. The only things being distributed this time were high speed water bottles due to the rapid snatching and discarding.
The medieval-looking Tour de Masseret was actually built in 1954 on the site of a former feudal castle. Its other naughty secret is that it houses the town's water tower. There is free public access to the top, where you can see for miles, assisted by one of those beautiful table d'orientations.
We were warned of the approaching bicycles by the presence of this helicopter. Our friend was there to film the event from his drone, but he wasn't permitted to fly it due to the presence of the helicopter. The world of drone-flying is quite a strict little domain.
The bike race attracted a large support team, and local dignitaries. The mayor of Masseret is in one of these photos below- can you tell which one he is? I quite enjoy taking furtive photos of normal people. Maybe a bit too much...
Yes, he was the one in a proper cotton shirt.
The Slightly Sad Story of the Balloon Lady
During the bike race, this quirky woman ignored all of the bicycle business in order to blow up zillions of balloons and fashion them squeakily into this interesting ensemble:
While we were watching another entertainer do unspeakable things*, the balloon lady sneaked up behind us to assess the competition, putting her finger to her lips as I glanced round at her cautious approach. To be honest, she could have done with shushing herself, as she was producing a jungle-worth of squeaking. She was full of beans, as she was due to be the next act on the stage!
Look at her happy face! (Hah! The competition is rubbish!*) Just then, the event manager approached to inform her that her act would have to wait until later. She made a deflated retreat...
I found it particularly sad that she didn't have a friend around to help her do up the back of her outfit.
The woman lighting up a cigarette in the background of the happy balloon lady photo took on a whole new fresh image as a scout for the next entertainment offering! This incomprehensible act went on for over an hour!
But their audience was HUGE! I must have missed something in translation...
Yes, this is just an excuse for a bit more of my furtive photography. I find it rather heart-warming that the bulk of the audience constitutes (highly engaged) adults.
It's time to leave this veritable dib-dobbing paradise to catch up with progress on the terrace.
So, as you can see, the tide of stones continues to make its lumpy way across the seventy square metres. Bearing in mind that I usually spend all day, every day on this, it's a lengthy labour of love.
There was another night time incident this week. A vicious little storm scattered our cast-iron garden table and chairs, ripped the pool cover, wrapped the baby swing around its bar, tore branches off one of the apple trees and displaced the flamingo. Luckily, we'd removed the pergola sail, otherwise that would have been in Switzerland.
The flamingo was lodged in the bushes behind the swings, nearly 500 metres from the pool. This is what she has been reduced to since being returned to her 'lake':
Don't worry, she's not punctured. Just a little abashed.
The upside of the storm damage is that we could reach the apples easily!
While I've been stoning the terrace, Kevin has been working indoors, plumbing in radiators. This means that we might not have to suffer temperatures of minus 12 degrees indoors this winter! Although, we do still have to put in a chimney/flue behind the log burner and plumb the back boiler in so that it connects with the radiators.
*
But more about the terrace later; we recently escaped to watch the Tour de Limousin fly through Masseret. An event like this is never confined to the main act, however! There were entertainers and pop-up restaurants and bars to enjoy too.
We waited with anticipation for over an hour, but, when the bicycles eventually came, they were only around for a fleeting moment. (This echoes my previous Tour de France experience in Tonbridge, Kent. But, at least, on that occasion, there were lots of free gifts being distributed from the leader cars: tee-shirts, caps, sweets, map books, flags...) The cyclists had just completed a gruellingly steep climb to reach us at the Tour de Masseret, so water was being handed out. The only things being distributed this time were high speed water bottles due to the rapid snatching and discarding.
The medieval-looking Tour de Masseret was actually built in 1954 on the site of a former feudal castle. Its other naughty secret is that it houses the town's water tower. There is free public access to the top, where you can see for miles, assisted by one of those beautiful table d'orientations.
We were warned of the approaching bicycles by the presence of this helicopter. Our friend was there to film the event from his drone, but he wasn't permitted to fly it due to the presence of the helicopter. The world of drone-flying is quite a strict little domain.
The bike race attracted a large support team, and local dignitaries. The mayor of Masseret is in one of these photos below- can you tell which one he is? I quite enjoy taking furtive photos of normal people. Maybe a bit too much...
Yes, he was the one in a proper cotton shirt.
The Slightly Sad Story of the Balloon Lady
During the bike race, this quirky woman ignored all of the bicycle business in order to blow up zillions of balloons and fashion them squeakily into this interesting ensemble:
While we were watching another entertainer do unspeakable things*, the balloon lady sneaked up behind us to assess the competition, putting her finger to her lips as I glanced round at her cautious approach. To be honest, she could have done with shushing herself, as she was producing a jungle-worth of squeaking. She was full of beans, as she was due to be the next act on the stage!
Look at her happy face! (Hah! The competition is rubbish!*) Just then, the event manager approached to inform her that her act would have to wait until later. She made a deflated retreat...
I found it particularly sad that she didn't have a friend around to help her do up the back of her outfit.
The woman lighting up a cigarette in the background of the happy balloon lady photo took on a whole new fresh image as a scout for the next entertainment offering! This incomprehensible act went on for over an hour!
But their audience was HUGE! I must have missed something in translation...
Yes, this is just an excuse for a bit more of my furtive photography. I find it rather heart-warming that the bulk of the audience constitutes (highly engaged) adults.
It's time to leave this veritable dib-dobbing paradise to catch up with progress on the terrace.
 |
| No, that's not close enough! |
So, as you can see, the tide of stones continues to make its lumpy way across the seventy square metres. Bearing in mind that I usually spend all day, every day on this, it's a lengthy labour of love.
There was another night time incident this week. A vicious little storm scattered our cast-iron garden table and chairs, ripped the pool cover, wrapped the baby swing around its bar, tore branches off one of the apple trees and displaced the flamingo. Luckily, we'd removed the pergola sail, otherwise that would have been in Switzerland.
Don't worry, she's not punctured. Just a little abashed.
The upside of the storm damage is that we could reach the apples easily!
While I've been stoning the terrace, Kevin has been working indoors, plumbing in radiators. This means that we might not have to suffer temperatures of minus 12 degrees indoors this winter! Although, we do still have to put in a chimney/flue behind the log burner and plumb the back boiler in so that it connects with the radiators.
*
 |
| Un. Speak. Able. |
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