It is incredibly hot here – pushing 40 degrees, and the sea water is about 27 degrees – it wets you but doesn’t cool you, although I found a patch in the sea today that I swear has a fresh water spring coming up under it. It takes patience to stay still over the one spot though, and I guess it looks a bit odd from the shore.
So. How to catch up on the last fortnight and not bore you with too much detail…
1. Paris - I swear that they have moved some of the more famous stuff since I was there last year (you know, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame) and the signs in the streets are singularly unhelpful. We decided that the signs are to help those driving cars around the myriad of one way streets in the general direction of the famous things, or else they are just there to amuse those Parisians who are annoyed that they are still in town with the American Tourists when the rest of Paris is elsewhere.
2. Toulouse – lovely as always. We were met at the airport by friends of mine who delivered us to the hotel, and then met us again in the evening to include us in a meal at another friend’s house. It was just like a French Home and Garden magazine – so French! We sat outside in the garden for aperitifs, and then moved to the garden furniture for a gorgeous meal. I tell you, the furniture was all that curved metal furniture sold as ‘French’ in the shops at home! There is a huge Spanish influence in Toulouse, reflected in the number of people who speak that language - check out the street signs.
3. The rally – for those who don’t know about this crazy annual thing that we do- is a 206 km race (rowing) from Toulouse to Bezier. Normally I row – this year I was a ‘green shirt’ person, and organizator (Nz readers, this is a Croatian and French word, not a mistake), wearer of the bright green shirt which I have coveted for years.. particularly half way through the race when every part of my body seriously wants to die.
This meant that we had to attend the meetings in the evenings to discuss anything relevant from that day, make any suggestions and drink a bit of wine. It meant that instead of rowing the 206 kms, I was on a velo, a bike. We were Guitou’s Angels!
We were back and forth along the canal – directing boats and bikes across the roads, back to chase the last boats, up to the lead again – we covered more than the daily mileage, pumping our legs along the tow path.
I have to say that the canal path has a lot of stones and roots and that the velo seat was not designed with comfort in mind. There are parts of me that will never be the same. Enough said.
There is an environmental catastrophe happening on the banks of the canal du midi – the plane trees are dying. Scientists have discovered that a fungus of some sort that was present in the wood of boxes of ammunition brought into the area by the Americans in WW2 has now spread and is killing the trees one by one. In some parts of the canal which were beautifully shaded by these magnificent trees, all of the trees have been removed. They have tried drilling the trees and injecting pesticides, but to no avail. They are now sterilizing the soil where trees have been removed and are researching more vigorous strains of trees. I can’t imagine the canal without the shade of these wonderful trees.
The people involved in this event are wonderful – every year I come away with new friends and people who want to keep in touch. This year was no different.
The cup for ‘Fair Play’ which our team one about three years ago (brilliant crew that year – Ann, Marie, Yana and I, ably assisted by Sally and Rian, and Phil – just brilliant) was won this year by a team of deaf rowers from Paris. The cox was able hear but the rest of the team lip read and signed to each other. Difficult when I distracted one of them during a speech – he of course couldn’t hear that the mayor was still speaking and burst out in shrieks of laughter, only to be told off soundly by the cox. Ooops. My fault. All signals on the boat were conveyed by tapping the side of the boat.
The food was great, the wine was great, the company was great. There was no water in the Auberge du Jeunesse in Carcassonne for the evening shower – a bit of a dribble in the showers on the 1st floor but nothing on the second floor (try explaining the gravity thing to the deaf team when they can only lipread French) but realized that with a bucket pilfered from the kitchen, and water from the handbasin…. Good old kiwi ingenuity had us all washed and clean smelling in time for the meeting and the wine before dinner!
The language was more of a problem for me this year. Normally I can make do with my French – converse at a basic level - but this year, I was trying to find the French verbs but it all came out in Croatian! No help at all! Even in cafes, ‘hvala vam’ slipped out before ‘merci beaucoup’ did. I felt so useless as I had been told that this year Andre (the chief) was expecting me to be speaking French! And worse still, now that I am back in Croatia, I am completely tongue-tied again, only able to think of the French for things that I want to say!
Now there lies the huge task of organizing a similar event in New Zealand – being the guests of the organization, there is a payback. The word is out – there is a randonee in New Zealand in late March 2013. Hands up who wants to help organize this extravaganza!! I’m taking volunteers now….skill base required is a sense of humour and a sense of adventure. We are not going to limit the fun to rowing (payback time on the velos!) and may even include some extreme adventure stuff. We can’t make it the same as the French one, so lets go completely different!
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