19 - 30 juillet. Le coiffeur, des amis et des ennuis

Mardi, 19 juillet
Je vais chez le coiffeur

It is now twelve weeks since I had my hair cut. I’ve been hesitating about where to get it done as it’s difficult to keep even reasonably tidy without a decent cut but a week ago I saw a woman whose hair I liked and asked here when she got it done. I went along to that salon and booked with her hairdresser, who, when I went, was off sick. He was still off sick a week later by which time the situation was getting desperate so I took pot luck and kept my fingers crossed. The techniques were certainly different but it feels better for being a bit shorter in this heat (high twenties centigrade). Let’s see how it lasts. This is the real test.

Mercredi - vendredi, 20-22 juillet
Nos amis arrivent

It was lovely to see Sue and Roger, our first guests, albeit several hours later than expected after two accidents had closed motorways near Lille. We celebrated the event (their arrival, not the traffic jams) with bubbly, plus a few more stress-relieving drinks.

The following day, Thursday, we spent strolling round town and managed to see almost all the sights, as well as celebrating the Belgian National Day appropriately in one of my favourite squares.

 On Friday Sue and Roger went to look at Vimy Ridge, one of the significant places of the First World War. I stayed at home and it wasn’t until late morning, when I went out shopping, that I realised I had no voice. This was fine when trying on a dress but slightly more problematic when I wanted to book a restaurant table for this evening. The waiter is standing in the doorway. He asks if I need help. I do my best but there’s traffic going past, people talking and he can’t hear anything at all. This comes as no surprise to me, battling womanfully on the production side of things. Sign language comes in useful at times and we ascertain that I want a table for four. “In what name?” he asks. People have enough trouble with my name when they can hear me but he’s very patient so we manage and will see each other again at 8pm.

Sue, Roger and I set off at the appointed time, Wilf following later due to a communication breakdown (I didn’t tell him but thought he knew). We arrive at the restaurant and the waiter rushes out to meet us, clutching his throat melodramatically and rasping hoarsely as he shows us to a table. He miraculously recovers his voice and we dither over menu options until Wilf joins us. It’s a good meal, we’re all satisfied and it seems to have helped my voice a little bit.

Samedi, 23 juillet
Nous cherchons des choses indispensables

A day for life’s necessities: a slow late breakfast, a trip to the market, a slow late lunch, watching the Tour de France on tv and a trip to the wine shop. Roger's been vrey good at croissant-shopping and knows his way to one of our favourite baker's so we test his fruit tart shopping. He does well.

Dimanche, 24 juillet
Nous allons au lac

We stroll across town for a walk around the Etang du Vignoble. There used to be a vineyard which went out of use but has recently been re-established. There’s a lake, home to many birds though Sue, a keen bird-watcher, tells me that they’re mostly grebes. I think I’ve never seen so many and while we wait for the men to catch up, we sit and watch a mother grebe teaching toddler grebe to dive for its own fish. She dives, catches the fish, flaunts it in front of the youngster then lets it drop. Titch will get the message when he’s hungry enough.

Lundi, 25 juillet
Les sîtes de la Première Guerre Mondiale

Our friends go to visit the First World War memorial at Thiepval, while Wilf works and I stay at home. We’ve not started to look into visiting the war sites of the area yet: we’ve been busy with other things and, being in the middle of the region affected by both wars in various ways (occupation, ground combat and aerial bombardment) it seems a bit too much to take in and will come gradually and later, though we must make sure we don’t miss it completely.

Mardi, 26 juillet
Au revoir, fromage

Roger is infamous in both families (and possibly further afield) for his love of cheese and his purchasing skills thereof so he and I go down to our local cheese shop and ensure that the owner will have a comfortable retirement. As we buy, we are given a virtual tour of France, different milk used, serving suggestions and, quite possibly, the name of each cow/sheep/goat on the farm. Fortunately it all squeezes into the car and they set off for Dunkirk, following my directions to get out of town. It was good to have a second chance to wave as they went.

Mercredi, 27 à samedi 30 juillet
La carte grise, pas d’assurance auto mais tout fini bien

I have to go to the sous-prefecture for something today. I’m not sure what, but I have a piece of paper with today’s date which tells me to go to Window 6, so I do. I can jump the queue, which is again outside the door and down the street when I get there ten minutes after opening.  I have to wait a few minutes, hand over some money, am given a temporary registration document and our car is now known as EE-937-EN. Just need the plates to match now.

Our UK insurance expires on 28^th (see heading above) so we start looking for French cover. This is tricky to do online, if not impossible: car models have different names here, we can’t say which département we were born in, as it doesn’t have Manchester as an option, etc. I try three local offices and get slightly further along the process, then go back on Friday and take a couple more steps. We can do no more today so walk across town to see a band playing in Place St Nicholas. The square is busy but it's very quiet, with a fire-eater for entertainment so we go home, pour a couple of drinks and sit on the balcony while the sun goes down.

Two of the insurance offices are closed on Saturdays at the moment and the other is closed in the afternoon. We try online and still can’t do it. A phone call is helpful but the phone service closes at 4pm, which means we can't insure the car until Monday.

This would not normally be any sort of problem: Wilf’s been to work on his bike the last couple of days and the weather’s good, his holidays start on Monday but he’ll still need to go in to finish off a few things. We have, though, have booked tickets for a local music festival on Sunday. It’s about fifteen miles away and we can get there easily by train but the only way of getting home is a very late special service train. I check the festival site, follow the link to BlaBlaCar and find one offer of transport back to town so jump in quick and we have a lift sorted for 2€ each. Perfect!