Monday, 6 July 2009
27. now we are three
After a 'few' drinks after work I got up at 4.30am in a 'slight' alcoholic sweat, with a liquid memory of Paul urging me to have 'just one more' and packed my last items. I didn't want a huge leaving drinks at work or with friends, I wasn't dying after all, and I hope to see them again soon. It was a Thursday, therefore a school night, so not the best time to get people together, which suited me in any event because all I wanted to do was get on that train to Sebastien anyway. I had the best luck as a friend of mine was working on the same Eurostar train and was able to get me upgraded, which meant free hot breakfast, my saviour! I arrived at Lille and had to change to the local station and drag my bags over the bridge to the other station. It was hot, humid and sweaty. You might as well have told me to drag six dead horses with me it felt so endless.
On the train to Poitiers I was dreaming of roast pork for some reason, maybe something to do with the farewell burrito I had at Exmouth Market with my friend Leeloo. It was a small parcel of sheer heaven and the memory of its deliciousness still haunts me now.
I arrived at Poitiers and searched for Seb and there he was. We had one giant hug and I felt at home. We had been too long away from each other and the last few days seemed endless and determined to keep us apart. It was a joy to get in the car and aim for the life we had both been planning for quite a while.
I have been here a week now and I never want to leave. The caravan was far too small for two and so we were determined to move into the house. I cleaned the very basic kitchen area, we moved a large oak table that had been left behind into it and with a microwave, et voila, a kitchen. It has been oppressively hot and without a fridge it has been nigh on impossible to live properly without a cold glass of wine or unwilted salad. But thanks to our new neighbours and publicans we have had the use of a coolbox which has been a boon. Annie and Alistair run the Galopin, the village bar and social hub of the village, and have been incredibly welcoming and looked after Seb while I was in London. It's a great place, where Ringo the Labrador greets you with wag tail and Annie and Alistair with a deliciously cold beer! French and Brits mingle happily. I love this. Language is no barrier, and I'm hoping mine will improve because of this, you only need to be friendly. Sebastien has the double edged sword of being the lucky one to speak both languages fluently, but because of this he has been a conduit between people and helped to explain lunguistic differences, my husband is very clever. In fact, the day I arrived he had reserved a table at Le Galopin and had pre-ordered our dinner, roast pork! That's how clever he is and why I married him, he can even read my pickled mind on a hot train through France.
So we are sleeping on an inflatable bed in a shabby house and I couldn't be happier. I have swapped a flat in London with a view of three tower blocks, with lazy taxi drivers hooting their arrival, boom boom music in open cars and stroppy girls rowing with each other at four in the morning for a view out of the kitchen door of a growing field of sunflowers that will blaze into life in the coming weeks, the tolling of the church bell announcing the hours, the chittering dive bombing swallows and a big blue sky. Why would I want to leave?
Seb and I knew that having a dog in London would have been impossible. Having seen an ad on French internet page I saw some labrador pointer crosses that were being given away. Having discussed breeds and their pros and cons, do we want a jack russell, a boxer or a labrador? A small one or a bigger one, a girl or a boy? There are lots of dogs in the area so we wanted one that would be sociable. We arranged to see the puppies that are left and it turns out that from a litter of 14, poor mum, there were two left. We arrived and saw two gorgeous bouncy little pups. The dad was a huge show labrador and the mother was a liver and white patched pointer and both were very friendly. How to choose? We agreed on the slighter darker and sleeker coated one and put her in the car. She seemed a little worried so I had her on my lap all the way home and we didn't a whine or a whimper out of her. So now we are three and the proud fathers of a little puppy called Mooh, and we are totally soppy about her. Real little house on the prairie stuff.
So last night we sat on the kitchen step, with a glass of wine as the sun went down watching little Mooh sleeping, who needs TV?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment