Jeudi, 15 au mardi 20 septembre

Encore une visite et la Fete de la Patrimoine 

Judy managed to get to Valenciennes without major incident on Thursday and was happy to

take it fairly easy so we spent Friday seeing the sights, which left us plenty of time for coffee and cake though that’s surprisingly difficult over here. We managed to find a place which had cakes we fancied but were careful to eat early as I’d booked in at La Cantine de Josephine, which provides training for people who might find it difficult to get employment.. Wilf and I had enjoyed it when we went in June and the food was as good this time round.

For me, though, the best part was that we were served by the same young woman as on our first visit. Then she had been just an observer, very much a trainee, having everything explained and demonstrated. Josephine had done most of the work and, with thirty-five clients, must have gone home exhausted. This time the young woman was working independently: pleasant, confident and so much more self-assured. I’m sorry I didn’t have a picture of our dessert, café gourmand, coffee served with apple tart, chocolate mousse, crème caramel and strawberries and cream. There is an answer to that, of course. It’s not for nothing that some people know me as Jan “Two Puds” Burke.

Saturday was, of course, market day. Off to buy veg before breakfast when my estimated (but very accurate) time for hitting the front of the queue was fifty minutes. The few of us queuing round the corner were quite sociable and discussed the produce, weather, the UK, learning foreign languages at school and how easy it is to forget them, while various members of our respective families went to other stalls to buy other necessities. It seems quite a good plan and two of the women gave us a very cheery greeting a couple of days later.

It was also the weekend of the Fête de la Patrimoine, Doors Open Day. We set off to have a look at one place but got side-tracked in the Place d’Armes by a cycling event. There were

“odd” bikes to try: a three-seater, and off-set bike, a “kangaroo” bike, among many others. I tried out a scooter with big wheels and it felt quite fast, though I noticed in time that there was only a front brake.

We went from there to look at a maison scaldienne, (a house from the area of the river Scheldt). There are only seven left, three in Valenciennes, and one is being restored so we could visit the ground floor and cellar. Their scarcity is due to them being made mostly of wood so fires in the towns easily put an end to them. It had been home to a linen weaver, the dampness in the cellar being good for keeping the fibre pliable and a bonus as the cloth was sold by weight.

We went next door on Sunday. It turns out it’s the oldest building in Valenciennes built as living accommodation. Again, it’s being restored but it was interesting to see and add a little more to our local knowledge. The guide was very upset about the "monstrosity" next door and I felt quite guilty that we were living there.

We’d had enough of buildings so went for a more open-air event in the afternoon: a walk across town to Le Vignoble, so called because there used to be a vineyard here. It fell into disuse but has recently been restarted and is now tended by adults who might find it difficult to find employment. We were shown the vines, felt sad that rabbits only seemed to like the grapes for white wine, then went to the “cave” where we could have a talk, given by one of the trainees and a glass each of red and white to try. Five of the trainees have now got a diploma in wine-making and were very enthusiastic. Unfortunately, because the north or France is not recognised as a wine-growing area, they are not allowed to sell the wine. You can, though, become a sponsor and as a thank you they will give you some wine. Luckily, it comes in 50cl bottles or Wilf might not have managed to carry it all home. We might have been forced to drink some on the way. Sponsors are invited to help with the harvest and pruning, so we’ll be looking forward to that.

Monday was another meander around town, with the aim of getting to Le Camel à Leon by lunchtime. It had been recommended by a friend but only serves food at lunchtime in the week. The food was lovely: a real “home-made” feel to it and the Petit-beurre aux prunes (a plum tart with a biscuit base) was great. I remarked to the woman (cook, waitress, barista) that my husband would like the tart and that he couldn’t join us because he was at work (after working all night – long story!). She offered a piece for me to bring back for him. He was here when we got back and the tart didn’t last long.

Judy got the train back the next day and I spent the next two days recovering. We now have a non-visitor gap in the diary until Christmas. It will feel very quiet.

Vendredi, 9 a lundi, 12 septembre

Le weekend de la braderie

The “Braderie” started on 9^th. As far as we could make out, it’s a sort of glorified tidy jumble sale when the stores sell off things at even cheaper prices than they were in the sale that finished five weeks earlier. This year, because of security issues, the event wasn’t held in the Place d’Armes but around the town.

I nipped out to get some milk from the supermarket and it started immediately: rails of clothing out on the pavements, boxes of other stock, shoes, small items of furniture. I did a few slight detours but didn’t have time for much browsing as Wilf’s brother Mike and his wife Helen, were coming for a few days. 

Samedi, 10 septembre was spent looking round the market and town, followed by a meal at La Maison in the evening. That’s the name of the restaurant not what we call our dining room. It’s just round the corner and out of the way enough for it to be promising. The food was lovely but we waited a long time for the dessert, so Wilf and I will be trying it again sometime to check that. At least they were apologetic and gave us a discount.

Dimanche, 11 septembre we all went to Arras, famous to most Brits for being a town where tapestries were made for hiding behind in Shakespeare plays and whose name gave rise to a certain amount of sniggering to teenagers.  It’s a lovely town, the main attraction being two large arcaded squares, though unfortunately one is now home to a very large car park. The other,

Place des Héros, was the place to relax, enjoy a drink in the sun and admire the buildings. There was an art exhibition, with a DIY painting where everyone could add as much or as little paint at they wished. 

After a drink and a cake to refuel, we set off back, stopping at a war cemetery on the way. There was no planning: we just stopped at the first one we noticed. It contained 1103 graves, soldiers from Britain, India, Canada, beautifully maintained. A few miles further on, I remarked that I’d seen another three cemeteries. Wilf said there had been more, but I’d not seen the signs. All a sobering thought. We haven’t yet “done” the First or Second World War places but I suspect that even with a gentle introduction like this we will still be shocked.

Mike and Helen left on the Monday, leaving a couple of days for us to get ready for Judy, our next visitor, due on Thursday 15^th.

28 août au 7 septembre

Dimanche, 28 août
Les Folies de Binbin

This day that had been advertised far and wide: Les Folies de Bibin. Binbin is a giant and it appeared that there’d be a carnival procession with all the bands going on a fairly long route around town. Because of recent terrorist attacks, security issues had meant that the route shortened to about half a mile. This worked in our favour as the start was a couple of hundred yards away and they all went past the flat, though we did go down to the square and watch them in action. The bands lined up at the bottom of the street,

marched into the square, did their turn and were replaced by another group. I was struck by the range of bands: traditional military-type ones, one who managed to do a precision shuffle which made them look like clockwork toys (and who also danced to Cell Block Tango), a samba band, traditional dancers and one with bizarre headgear and/or false (I hope!) paunches who threw oranges into the crowd.

The Rats Bougris were there: five guys on springy stilts terrorising anyone who came within reach. One small boy pulled a rat's tail, was chased, grabbed and turned upside down.

He was probably traumatised for life but nobody seemed too worried.  

  

Keeping the flat cool with the blinds down

Binbin appeared, preceded by a large caterpillar and a confetti canon and with his entourage of Walt Disney characters, no doubt all extremely hot. It had all been very stop-start but it became even more stop at this point. All the children liked him, and the eight burly men carrying him were glad of the rest: they swapped places every few yards. 

 And then, after all the procession had gone, all that was left was the confetti.

Mercredi, 7 septembre
Je pense que je suis bien dans mes baskets*
Yesterday evening I walked across town to the Maison des Associations for their “volunteering Tuesday,” hoping to find something to make me feel more included in local life and help me practise my French. There were a couple of things on offer which could be good but after a couple of fruitless phone calls today I went across the square to the Maison du Quartier and had a chat to see what they had on offer. Let’s just say I’ll be back: various fitness and craft groups every week, plus occasional meetings, talks, etc. I’ll keep you posted on that one.

*This translates literally as “I think I’m ok in my basketball shoes” but means “I think I’m a happy bunny.”