Mossley vs France

It feels like a long time since my last blog effort and that’s probably because, at long last, the utter lack of anything like a summer is starting to get me down. The endless grey skies, the way I've had to put the heavy winter doonah back on the bed, managed to feel humid and sweating but chilled at the same time....

Let's get this clear - I knew that I wasn't coming to England for the weather. But still, I kinda expected, you know... seaons? I wouldn't mind that there was never summer if we'd had a decent winter, "oh aye lassie, when I were a lad there'd be 2 feet o' snow on the main street of Mossley.... "

On my personalised google homepage I torment myself in this fashion… I should point at that this was captured at midday at the height of summer in Manchester, which is of course the middle of a winter’s night in Brisbane. sigh

So, what’s the cure for all of this? Go to France again of course!

I’d flown into Paris from Leeds and was flying back to Manchester from Perpignan. I’ve become a world export on arranging flights from England to France and back – there are always lots of choices. Ulrich met me in Paris and we went down to stay with his sister and her partner for a few days. They live in a converted farmhouse building near Bourges, about 2 hours south of Paris.

The house is in the middle of an organic farm, so lots of places to walk the dog, and even the cat!

The dam provided a welcome swim break.

Following are various other photos of the trip that ensued between Bourges and Perpignan. I seemed to have taken an awful lot of photos of blue sky! My apologies for the lack of accompanying text, but if you hover over the image a caption should appear.

Of course, the ostensible reason for this visit was again le Tour de France. This year I only went to one stage – the last time trial which ended up deciding the race. I promise I’ve been very sparse with my photos, considering our superb position just in front of the start ramp (I’ve got photos of just about every cyclist).

It was a fabulous day, very interesting. Just a shame that Cadel couldn’t win.

However, this post is actually entitled Mossley vs France, not just France. That’s because for a long time I’ve been thinking I should do a small exposé on my own little slice of English life. So here are a few random photos of Mossley, where I live. I would have taken photos of inside the house but that would require cleaning… I’ll try and add more occasionally.

This is my backdoor - or at least one of those doors down there is! I still struggle to consider a dwelling that is only one room wide as an actual house...

As you can see, I really don't have to worry about the back neighbours much. Well, they can be a little noisy at times if I'm sitting out on the patio.

Ok, this one deserves a bit more of an explanation! Have you ever seen the movie "Brass Off"? Well, if so then this is what it is all based on. Numerous local bands gather at various villages in the region and compete for the overall prize, which is a significant sum of money plus a trip to play at Albert Hall in London (for John Lennon fans, that would be the same Albert Hole that requires several holes for filling).

Here's the best bit though. After a big fancy march (ok, fancy's maybe pushing it a little bit) they all cluster around a tiny old fashioned caravan with the windows covered by blankets and start playing their hearts out. Within this mysterious focus of musical energy sit the judges - this is truly a blind competition!

Happy Olympics everyone.... go the Aussies! (ok, and this year I have to say allez la France as well)