I'm just watching my boyfriend search for his remote control plane (I know, what is he, 6?) across the field. It's crashlanded in a small wooded area that borders the estate where we're staying. Boys and their toys. I'm sat in an old pashmina sipping red wine in the middle of the French countryside. The place is fabulous; I can't believe how beautiful the house we've rented for the next two weeks is. It's stunning. Our bedroom has stable doors (appropriate :P) At night, I fall asleep listening to the hum of crickets (Sometimes, they break into the room though. They're fricking huge!)
NB: My boyfriend has managed to lose his plane in nettles as tall as he is. He's run in the house to put some trainers on so he can retrieve it. His plan is to wade in up to his neck.
So, while boyf's occupied, I just thought I'd update you quickly on the past few days. After a monster car journey or two and a ride on the ferry that dragged like no other, we reached the vicinity of Toulouse. Saturday was so hot, the inside of the cars were nightmarish. But I, in my role of Chief Navigator, got us here without a hitch. It was really easy because Orleans and then Toulouse are signposted for miles. It was a bit of a bittersweet moment to see the first Toulouse sign, 500 odd km away though!
For anybody who may be wondering, the exact distance from Liverpool to Toulouse is a fucking long way.NB: My boyfriend has trotted across the field in tracksuit bottoms, carrying what appears to be the broom for the kitchen floor. In a minute, I'm going to have a chocolate eclair! :)
So, the owners (who unwittingly provided us with much entertainment during our stay) showed us around when we arrived and went over the safety rules and stuff for the pool. Mr. Owner is rather strict and has lots of rules to impress upon us. I don't think he was expecting 20-something scousers to turn up. The pool by the way, is lush. There are views of the surrounding hills and valleys, and some village with a church spire in the distance. It's a heated salt water pool (so nice!) framed by a wooden deck and olive trees. The only drawback is a deceptively sweet looking pool house and shaded seating area with citrus fruit growing all around it. This area just happens to be infested with wasps. I have never seen so many wasps IN MY LIFE! And yes Mr. Owner, I have been to the country before. Wasps are one thing, wasp nests are another. Anyway, the owners seem nice but are unbelievably posh. Mr. Owner is so like James Hewitt it's unnerving. A chorus of 'ding dong' is all you can get out of one of my travelling companions after an encounter with him. They have a girlfriend over to stay at the moment, and their 'chums' in a nearby village can offer us wine tasting :P But Ding Dong did bring a set of French boules over tonight for us to play. Bizarrely, we already have some. And Mrs. Owner, Felicity (actual name!!) greeted us in her dressing gown, which somehow made her immediately likeable?
So, Sunday. We're calling it Day One, since it's our first full day here. Day One, I go around to the pool with boyfy and am almost immediately stung by an angry wasp. I've never been stung before. It fucking hurts. How powerful are those little suckers? Why, I never knew! As I said to Guillermo upon my return to England, wasp sting is such a bad way to describe it. It's more like having a needle thumped into your arm with a baseball bat. Not that I'm dramatic or anything. Anyway, boyf goes and fetches some venom extracting contraption from Ding Dong and Flick, which they'd told us about upon our arrival. It sucks your skin up inside a tube and then this horrible yellow venom stuff comes out after you've pumped it for a bit. The boys experimented on me a bit with it as they weren't really sure how to use it and insisted the instructions were in French, which I could see was a blatant lie as I could read them from where I was sitting. Afterwards, I had a quick read myself. It advised that it wasn't for use on eyelids or genitals, so my plans for the rest of the day were straight out of the window. As if anyone would! For the rest of the day, and ever since to be honest, I am terrified of all buzzy things with wings, and can't relax for a moment by the pool. I spend most of the day in the middle of the pool flailing my arms wildly about when I think anything either creepy or crawly could be near me. Sorry boyf. But it still managed to be gorgeous, apart from the fact that I have a red stripe of sunburn across my hairline where I missed it with the sunscreen. Dang.
NB: Boyfriend is heading back, plane in hand, mission accomplished. I wonder if it's broken?
Today, Monday. We are up and out later and slower than expected because of boyf's screaming Stella Artois hangover. We also sat dangling our legs in the pool last night drinking champagne with strawberries, after a little stroll to the local church and beyond. Bliss! Off to Bessieres to the French market today, where we wandered around like tourists and bought some fruit and veg, including some Bugs Bunny-esque carrots and two enormous lettuces. Then we had to go and get our shopping in, so we hit E.Leclerc (only place we can find our fave champagne) and had a quick look at Villemur sur Tarn. We bought some more champagne, shedloads of grub and afore-mentioned eclairs. Then we hit the pool again and I faffed about a bit with my newly purchased Finding Nemo float! No, really! I can't swim :P Ah, flashbacks to childhood! Since then we've stuffed our faces, been for a stroll and spotted a hare, a deer and a lone sunflower, and I made our beds. They're gorgeous!
NB: My boyfriend is just topping up my glass. Au revoir for now!
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