Time for school

It became apparent that to live in France then a command of the language was going to be essential.

I like many others had spent a small fortune on various courses, video, books, CD and in the early days cassette tapes. End result limited ability. These courses do do not prepare you for the Doctors, Vets and everyday life events like signing up for a contract.

We found a local cafe which was run by an English couple, who eventually returned to the UK, and a local Primary School teacher who came along and tried to teach us French. The problem with this for me was the fact that some people there, were far superior and didn't actually need to be there. But they hijacked the class. Despite the coffee and polite chat the atmosphere was one of intolerance.

I found a teacher through our Gardeners family she was in her 80's a former interpreter and willing to teach us.

Off we went, and her house was massive inside and full of models of Ducks of every shape and size. The floorboards creaked where the untreated woodworm had got a grip.
To be good at a language one has to understand the basics of language, adjectives, verbs, past and future tenses.

We struggled through and she was very patient looking with desperation on occasions and allocating homework. Which by the time I returned had not been completed and she had forgotten what we had been set! So we spent a good proportion of the time revising.
As time went on the price went down but she found other little tasks for me to complete.
Fixing lights and mending computers.

What surprised me in France is their relationships.

One would think, or at least I did, that by the time you reached 80 then one's relationships would be pretty stable and uncomplicated. This was not true, my teacher still received telephone calls from her ex who rang to complain about the way he was being treated by his new wife of 20 yrs his junior.

When we moved house I found out that our neighbour wasn't married to the pleasant Charentese man but had moved to the house in fit of rage. She had followed her ex following the divorce and moved only a few doors down from him! Then she discovered that the road was noisy because of the 40 tonne lorries that bounced down it every morning at 5am. She became even more depressed when she discovered that we had sold for a price considerably less than what she had paid for hers. But she couldn't understand my explanation about the exchange rate and house prices in the UK.

Well back to the lessons, it was approaching and Monique was about to start her pilgrimage to her family in Bordeaux and afterwards she reported to a health farm for treatment. Her neighbour an English couple normally took her but on this occasion they were elsewhere. I agreed to take her.

She assured me that all her luggage would have preceded her by courier. However when we arrived she had several bags which were bulging and only secured by silk scarfs because the zips had given way under the strain.

Off we went and she tried to extend her teaching to driving wanting to know why i was driving so slowly for on the motorway, she had failed to see the ongoing mobile roadworks which had reduced the carriageway to one lane.The French provide their citizens with a driving licence for life ! Monique once took 2 days to drive 76 kilometers and then she crashed on the way back.

We arrived at Angouleme railway station and the car park which was a severe test of driving ability. We juggled the bags to a row of rusting chariots and after much effort managed to release one and balanced the bags which were now beginning to discharge their load. I found the platform which meant a long walk to the end of the platform. Given that her walking speed was something under several feet a minute, her announcement at the last minute that she had to go to the toilet was a bit distressing.

Because of her speed and the stairs then not forgetting the several layers of clothing she would have to peel off to perform the function and then re cover this was going to take some time. And it did. She arrived on the platform just in time for the train whizzing by and sucking all the air off the platform making my ears pop!

I located the correct carriage at the front of the train and the doors slid open and people pushed on and off the train, with good cause because these things don't wait. My hobbling teacher arrived breathless and mounted the train with a great deal of assistance from everyone because she was struggling under the pressure of her disability and too many clothes. I pushed the baggage on and followed her into another carriage controlled by another set of doors. I had an impending sense of doom and panic as I bundled her into place. My wife who could not drive was on the platform and I had instructed her to stay on the platform because I knew I was going to have to move fast to get off the train. However, it was too late the hiss of the doors sealing and the engagement of the clutch I knew that a trip to Bordeaux was imminent.

No money and no cards how was I going to get back?


The doors failed to open despite my best efforts, my teacher was still being assisted by other passengers who were looking me over with some suspicion, who was this person who had thrown this old lady into the train? The train started to move and that's when I struck, the desperate look on my wife's reddened face, apparently she had just run to the front of the train in an effort to prevent its departure,I pulled the emergency lever and it stopped. After a few moments a very distressed official opened the doors, with difficulty, and the accusing passengers soon identified me as the culprit. However, luckily for me, just as he commenced his tirade Monique had regained her composure and was explaining to everyone what had happened and the accusing faces melted and they allowed me off. The official was not impressed but by this time three more officials each one more rotund that the next arrived and each separately related the story and as they did each one looked in our direction. When the last one wobbled up I took the opportunity to depart and advised my wife that we should leave before they composed themselves which surely must result in a fine or worse! So we melted away into the crowd and Monique departed for her Christmas Adventure.