Rural Life

Nature is in charge

Apologies for being a day late with the update - Easter visitors and fun took over yesterday and I hope you consider the wait worth it, as we are dealing with national news in a bit.

The week started fairly quietly, with a magnificent view of a full moon from the garden when I went to close up the chicken run.  This isn't to keep the wee darlings safe, as they sleep 4 foot off the ground on a suspended perch, but to ensure that they don't roam around the garden from first light, killing my plants more than they have to.

A couple of days later, we were treated to a magnificent sunset, with rich colours.  This is normally an autumn phenomenon, but we enjoy them whenever and aren't going to complain!

Spring has sprung and the cowslips and oxslips are looking fabulous in the Orchard, with the red and orange variants adding vibrancy to the mix.

So given all that mellowness, Storm Nelson was a bit of a downer, with winds whistling around the corners of the house and one of the sheets of metal on the chicken run roof deciding to submit to the forces of nature!  John had to miss a hot cross bun party in order to fix it and shelter the chickens from the worst of the rain.

But the big story is the flooding.  Not so much around us, although people did get caught out in Saumur as they foolishly left cars overnight on the quayside.  Yesterday was spent keeping an eye on a red alert on the River Vienne - a tributary of la Loire - running through Chinon.  Some reports were getting quite scary, and although the worst didn't happen, a few hundred people had to be evacuated from the part of the town to the south of the river.  As we were returning our visitor to Chinon, we had to go and have a look (it would be rude not to!).

The speed of the river and the height (5.3 metres at lunchtime) were dramatic, particularly by the old bridge in the centre of town.

In the direction of the Eifel bridge (yes, that Eifel), there is a "low road" to a village called Cravant.  Walking through the park by the river, it wasn't immediately obvious, but the river had taken the opportunity to sneak through a gap and fill up a road, blocking access to a community centre (not the one taking evacuees) and a driving school.

Back in early March, I wrote about flooding in Chinon here, with a fine photo of a Stop sign up to its waist in water.  Well the Stop sign itself was completely submerged, but the top of the higher sign just by it can be made out sticking out of the water here.

The height of the flood has now passed at Chinon and is heading for la Loire, where the peak is expected at Saumur at about midnight.  The Loire valley is so wide, it shouldn't cause too many problems now, but I saw that two further departments are on red flood alert, for tributaries of the Seine, so no doubt Paris will have a big flap about it all very soon. 

The moon will change in the next week and I hope that brings less rain, a bit of warmth to dry things out, and a chance to get into the garden and get the onions planted and the potato bed rotavated.  Things are starting to get a bit delayed!  Have a good week.

 

St Malo and the spring tides

Ramadan started last Sunday, when the moon was dark and new.  It is the new moon that helps create the great tides, the spring tides, the ones that create a Severn Bore and the ones that make the Mont St Michel an island again.  St Malo is just round a headland from the Bay of Mont St Michel, but in that geographical zone that sees some of the biggest tides in the northern hemisphere. 

I needed to get away for a few days for a change of scene and air, so it seemed only fair to go visit St Malo, one of my favourite places, and to do so when there are some of the highest tides of the 12 year cycle - a coefficient of 116 in fact (and if anyone can explain the calculations of tide coefficients, I would be grateful).  And a very high tide is generally followed by a very low tide (to get that big tide coefficient), which meant a lot of rockpools not normally seen, would be available for inspection.

The Intramuros of St Malo is on a rocky outcrop sticking out into the estuary of the Rance, surrounded by ramparts, with the port entrance guarded by forts, including more than one with a Vaubin influence.  Here is what it looks like when the tide is about half an hour off its height and has a coefficient of 113.

The fort is on the second island out.  Between the seagull and the white pole there is a vague piece of metal - that is the rail for the high diving board on the tidal swimming pool.  What swimming pool?  This one!

The first island (the Grand Bé) is a bit of a wildlife sanctuary and also has the tomb of the French poet Chateaubriand - yes, he is also famous for the steak and has a town named for his family, as he wasn't the first of that name.  The second island is the Petit Bé and has the Vaubin fort, and during periods of normal tides is not always accessible by foot, so wasn't a brilliant posting for soldiers in the past.  But on special days, you can get right out to it with no hint of damp on your feet (the Grand Bé is accessible at most low tides).

The rocks around the back of the Grand Bé, facing the fort are covered with mussels and oysters, as they are generally not 3 meters above the sea.  On that Wednesday, the difference between high and low tide was something around 14 meters.  The view of St Malo from the islands is lovely and shows the fortifications rather well.

St Malo is a working port.  There is a fishing fleet that goes out and when I was hovering around watching them bring in the catch, it was mainly scallops.  This is tightly regulated in terms of number of days, size of shell and size of catch.  Many go straight to the restaurants in the Intramuros (I had delicious scallops on a bed of leeks, with Mediterranean vegetables one night) and along the coast, including the Thermes Marin (a thalassotherapy centre).

I didn't know it at the time, and was lucky to capture it in a photo, but there was a rather novel ship in the main port.  Not the big orange thing, but the one with the tall masts - it is the first of a new fleet of cargo ships that take high end, low weight goods across the Atlantic using only wind power.  There has been one doing the circuit St Malo, the Lesser Antilles and New York for a few years, but only taking about 40 tonnes of goods.  This new one takes nearer 150 tonnes, if I remember the TV report correctly.  It left harbour while I was there.

Leaving St Malo on Friday morning to come home, I took the route along the coast road to Cancale, stopping a couple of times, including once at the Anse de Guesclin to admire the bay and the island.  With a beautiful sunny morning, mild weather and nearly alone, it was hard to tell I was in Brittany.  I could have been anywhere, even the Caribbean! 

So now I am home, with a cold nose and good hair thanks to all the fish I ate, well buffed joints from an afternoon of thalassotherapy, and hopefully a better attitude to life in general.  But the Breton influence isn't totally over - while checking over the Garden this morning, I discovered one of my cauliflower plants had decided it was Time!  So we picked this beauty and tomorrow I'll make a cheese sauce!

Next week there will be wildlife photos and news as one of the trail cameras has come home again.  Have a good week!

 

Merry Christmas and all that jazz

Finally it is Christmas Eve.  The winter solstice passed in murky conditions on Friday, but the day before I found a lovely big clump of mistletoe in one of the apple trees - something just right for the Solstice and for Christmas as a pagan symbol of renewal and mystery, and a thing to be avoided in UK pubs over Christmas due to all the kissing.

On Friday night we had our quiet drink in the pub for the end of the week - actually it was heaving, which is a good sign.  We recognised a couple of people, but not many - also a good thing, as the new landlord will need to bring in customers to make it work, and many of those we know in the area are old or work very hard during the week and don't have much money to splash.  Long may it continue (fingers crossed).

Much of the week has been dull and murky, but Wednesday was nice, as is today.  I took advantage on Wednesday and had a wander around the lanes of Baugé, admiring old cottages, weird walls, a plaque showing where the Huguenot temple had been in the period between 1625 or so and 1685, when being protestant became illegal again.  That was the moment many refugees headed for east London, to set up their silk weaving businesses in the Spitalfields area.  Anyway, the plaque is pretty well illegible, but the Tribunal is clear of scaffolding this Christmas, so there is a photo of that instead.

On Thursday we dug up the first of the frosted parsnips, to give away for Christmas dinner - we will dig ours up tomorrow, so they are as fresh as possible.  The tops have looked very good all year, so we were excited as to what we would find.  The first one was big, but there was a small top near it, which I dug up as well and was pleased that it was also a good looking specimen.  I had to cut the bottoms of the roots off, but they were pleasingly long, given our clay base for the soil.

Before today I have marzipaned the cake, the pudding is made, the foie gras is cooked, the shopping is done, and all that remains for tomorrow is a ritual offering to the Oak Tree, digging up carrots and parsnips for us and cooking the festive bird (a locally raised duck).  That meant that this morning we were entitled to play, particularly as there was a bit of wind.  We dug out the cheap kite we bought four years ago, clipped the crossbar back in and spent a happy half hour flying it in the Meadow, while not falling down the badger's set entrance.  Mr Banks got it right, we reckon!

So, may your kite fly high and not get caught in trees, may your gravy be without lumps and your Christmas pudding ignite with the first match.  Have a wonderful Christmas!

 

I gather the winter solstice is on Friday 22nd and then the days will start to get longer - it can't come too soon this time!  While there is a certain Christmas joy doing the rounds, with the pub reopened and some lovely window displays, plus the Christmas Fayre in Baugé that is just coming to an end, and some lovely lighting decorations around the place, the hours of darkness are getting to me.  Yesterday was beautiful, with clear blue skies, but today we were back to the old grey and dank conditions which weigh on the spirits.

The wise women of the Baugeois tend to say that the weather will change for the better when the moon changes.  Like I say, yesterday was a lovely sunny day, and you could just see the new moon as we went out to the pub, but today dawned (eventually) cold and overcast, and the cloud hasn't really lifted as promised.  Still I did prepare a bed for broad beans (which included digging up a forgotten clump of potatoes) and then sowed a whole packed of Aquadulce Claudia broad beans, to give something to look forward to in about May next year.

During the week we had another dull day (well more than one, if I'm honest), but we also got a gleam of late sunlight, which meant a stunning rainbow appeared above the Christmas decorations in the village.  While the photo doesn't do it justice, it was a lovely thick one, and was spotted from quite a way around.

On Fridays I always go out and about to visit in Chinon and Azay le Rideau.  The other thing about this autumn and early winter is the amount of rain, and therefore the amount of water there is around.  I couldn't get a photo of the Indre at Azay le Rideau, but I could see that many of the lawns at the Chateau d'Islette (former love nest of Rodin) were submerged as I drove by.  It was a different matter at Chinon.  As I arrived at the St Luand end of the town, I was able to stop and photograph badly the width of the river, where it had gone over the far bank and spread into the meadows beyond.

In Chinon itself, once I had parked up, I was able to walk along the riverside and admire the spectacle.  A lone paddleboarder was working his way up against the flow, and having to stay as close into the bank as he could, so as not to be swept away.  There is normally much more daylight between the river and the arches of the bridge.

I tend to park in the Place Jeanne d'Arc in Chinon - it's free and unless there is a funfair camped out there, you can usually find a space.  It is dominated by a massive equestrian statue of Joan of Arc, donated to the town by the sculptor over a hundred years ago.  While there is a rumour that he asked for payment and was refused, I tend to wonder what Chinon did to him to make him offer them this "gift".

Special, isn't it?

Anyway, sadly Christmas cards aren't writing themselves, so I will leave you contemplating this work of art and wish you a good week.

 

The slow road to Christmas

Meteorological autumn was the wettest on record for Maine et Loire, no ifs, no buts.  There were few edible mushrooms as the rain didn't start until mid October, so the mycelium was challenged.  There was a brief flush and since then we have only found inedible specimens around the place, but lots of them!  The One Acre Wood, which we visited this week on a rare fine day, had an outcrop of what I call Slimy Grey Ones, which turn up in clumps and lines, I assume following a tree root or similar.  To me they are always the sign that there is no chance of anything more that is edible, and while they are relatively attractive, they mark a clear phase in the year.

During the year, one of the walnut trees at the Orchard died - the nuts didn't develop and the leaves fell in August.  It is hard to say why it has died, but the mushrooms at its base that started to appear last week may be a very strong hint that it was diseased.  This weekend, the mushrooms have opened up and while last week they looked relatively attractive, this week they don't!

The days are ever shorter, and with bad weather, it is now dark at 5pm.  So we start to look indoors for our amusements.  The village pub has reopened after some 18 months closed, so our regular Friday drink and debrief down the way can restart.  Now as it only reopened last weekend, we were a bit saddened to see that apart from us, there were two single blokes inside with us, and three lads drinking outside on the terrace.  Closer inspection of Facebook showed that another local hostelry had a band in that night, so hopefully next Friday will be rather more lively or the tenure of the new landlord could be quite short!

This weekend is Telethon weekend - very similar in concept to the BBC's Children in Need, except that the funds raised go to support research into medical conditions.  This year the focus was on Duchene's Muscular Dystrophy.  We tend to avoid the events to be honest - games for children are not for us, the convivial evening sharing "poule au pot" is also something we avoid, as we don't much like boiled chicken.  We used to buy the knicknacks sold at the bakery, but that closed three years ago now.  This year the local society for protecting the village heritage put on an exhibition in the church - each year they do a photography competition, and the exhibition was of the 30 best images submitted this year on the topic of The Tree.  It was nice to visit the church, it was interesting to look at the photos, but when we went, it was just us and the organisers - I hope more turned up!

The heritage group also ensure that there is a crèche or nativity scene in the church for Christmas.  An old neighbour of ours, Monsieur André, used to make figures and would set it up each year.  He was a smelly and curmudgeonly old boy, who lived in a tiny hovel tucked back from the main road without mains water or drainage (hence the smell), but lived well into his 90s, the last few months in a Home.  The sad thing was that only a small handful turned up for his funeral, despite the care he took each year making the church ready for Christmas.

I mentioned that autumn had been spectacularly wet, particularly the latter half.  That humidity is carrying on into winter, and the last week has seen some truly awful days weather-wise.  The cold has moved on and now we have very mild (currently 14ºC) and very wet conditions, with some 20mm of raid in the last 48 hours adding to what fell on Thursday, and Wednesday.  Yesterday afternoon we had a short respite and I took the opportunity to see how the ponds at the end of the orchard were doing - the good news being that they are now starting to look much more purposeful.  I startled three deer that were lurking down there - two bounded away, showing me their white bottoms, while one stood still and camouflaged the other side of the fish pond.  My attempt to photograph him was of course laughably bad, but I know he was there.  Somewhere....

Finally, Rebus the Kitten had his second set of jabs this week.  He was also weighed and shown to be putting on weight mainly through size as he isn't fat, so he could grow up to be quite a big boy.  He has a lot of energy and hasn't mastered gravity at all.  He has learned that the best place to be in the evening is where you can see and feel the log fire!

Have a good week!

 

First days of winter

Yes, alarmingly it is now meteorological winter, and the year is really slipping away.  On a happier note, in about 3 weeks, the days will start to get longer, but we have the three cold months to get through now.  The area has got its Christmas decorations out promptly this year - to do with Baugé being a Pettit Cité de Charactère and they are collectively looking to brighten up people's lives.  What has livened up our village rather more is that the pub reopened last night after a closure of nearly 18 months.  New leaseholders, new décor, new name (not sure about that) and hopefully a new attitude towards the establishment from the locals.  The local mayor was pretty blunt when he announced that a taker had been found - use it or lose it!  Let's hope people take that to heart!  I took a photo at the opening night but it was truly awful, so here is the Christmas Tree instead.

On the sunny days this week, I have been determined to go out for a walk and admire the area.  On Wednesday morning, I was up at la Flèche for the market, and le Loir was looking particularly attractive after the recent floods.  Sadly I can't load up the photo of that - not at all sure why!

Later on Wednesday - as it really was so beautiful out - I went for a walk around the village.  I went part way up what is often called the Roman Road, and it may well be.  It is straight, making no apology for the gradient of the hill, and is well buried into the hillside, with tall oaks and chestnuts at ground level.  Half way up, when the water table is high enough, a spring follows the line of the path for some distance, so I only went as far as the mud from that, before turning back to the village.

I made my way down the hill and took the road to the Pont de Godot - yes, really you can go and wait for him there, but he never shows up!  The river splits into two arms upstream towards the town, and the water looks clear and bright and is flowing rapidly at the moment in both arms, apart from where measures are in place to slow the flow.

From the bridge the view up to the church shows the relative height of the hill and the thoroughly twisted nature of the spire.  It can be seen from quite a distance, if you know where to look!

Other days have not been so sunny and crisp, and have also been filled with distractions such as battling customs forms and websites to send a parcel, the French health service and finding an electrician.  Rebus the kitten spends much of his time trying to eat me, and when he isn't doing that, he is asleep and growing.  The slow descent to the "Festive Period" makes me less likely to do anything useful, and more inclined to sit under a rug in front of the TV with a pot of tea and a chewy kitten.  However, I need to give myself a metaphoric kick in the pants and design a Christmas card, write a Christmas letter, and more importantly, undertake the necessary steps to close my business and structure my retirement.

Here's hoping for some motivation sometime next week!

 

 

It's become cold!

Yes, we have finally had our first frosts.  I have a dim memory of this week back in perhaps 1969 or so when it snowed, and I also remember trying to drive through Flers in Normandy and negotiating drifts six inches deep, so it shouldn't be surprising that we have had two white frosts now.  Of course the cold makes everything very clear and crisp as we settle into a winter anticyclone.  That can make taking photographs a bit tricky.  This one of the turret on the back of the chateau in Baugé came out very nicely.

It was rather more difficult to get a decent shot of this hidden piece of the old town wall and turret, not least as I was down a narrow lane, with little room for manoeuvre.  The contrast with the light is really too harsh.

The weather brings out magnificent sunsets but they bring their own challenges when taking photos - this one worked OK.

The crisp clear air and frost makes it much easier to see the nests of the vile pine processionary caterpillar - last year we didn't have many, but this year this poor tree is riddled with them.  I now need to invest in attracting great tits to the garden as they are the only predator that will take the revolting things on.  I am anti pine processionaries as I am sensitive to their spines, while they can do really nasty things to cats and dogs.  They are a non-native invasive species, brought in with lumber in the past and have spread across the country.

The frosts have finally done for the cristophine vine, and it now looks very sad and ugly.  We will have to unpick it from the frame and compost all that vegetable material, and then feed up the area with manure and organic matter, as the frame is too solid to move to a different spot for next year.  John cut out the last large fruit yesterday, which had got itself well integrated into the netting and had started to sprout.  It will likely be the parent of next year's vine, although there is a spare if needed.

With the autumn and the very short days, farmers are more limited in what they can do - although I have seen quite a bit of twilight ploughing going on recently.  But give a French farmer a bit of thinking time, and their thoughts turn to their grievances and how to get their message across effectively.  Sometimes it's calendars with scantily clad peasants, sometimes it is taking large piles of lettuce and setting fire to them (never entirely sure how that works), sometimes it is dumping large piles of manure in supermarket parking areas (and removing every last trace at the end of the day as it is too good to waste), or spraying slurry on things.  This year, protests have taken a new turn, literally.  They are out in the evenings turning village signs upside down.  It is done carefully, and the markers are still there and easy to see (the village name sign is the start of the 50kmph limit for built up areas, so it is important), but they are upside down.

The argument is that French agricultural policy is upside down as the constraints put on local farmers are such that their products are more expensive than cheap imports from countries without limitations on the use of chemicals, fertilisers, a lower minimum wage for seasonal workers, lower husbandry standards, etc and while people say they want farmers to work to these high standards, they are not prepared to pay the extra so that the farmers can live from their work.  So they want a land free of pesticides, but won't pay the necessary premium for organic produce.  They have a point - Solidarity!!

Well, it is jolly cold in the non-heated extremities of the house, so I am going to call it a day and head for the fireside.  Rebus the kitten is doing well, is a bundle of energy and is going through the rather annoying teething stage - my hands are taking the brunt of it at the moment.  It won't last - or that's what I tell myself.

 

Preparing to hunker down - edited

Last week there were the first portents of serious autumn starting to happen - sadly not so much with vivid coloured leaves.  I'm hoping that will yet happen, but fear that leaves will just go brown and fall with none of the flaming yellows and reds of a good brisk autumn.  The trees need frost to trigger the colours, and the first forecast frosts for us are tonight and tomorrow night.  Yesterday was a mad rush of getting the delicate plants under cover, both normal houseplants that have been out enjoying the weather, and those in pots that live outdoors but need to be kept frost free.  Somehow when a shelf or a window sill is left empty over the summer, it acquires a load of other stuff, which then has to be moved. 

The giant cristophine vine also warranted some protection as there are still some 15 viable fruits on it, and after a couple of days, it's going to get warmer again.  We used to buy cheap garden shelters, but they were always getting caught by the wind and shredded, so we invested in a more permanent pergola for which I make covers.  We still have a couple of cheap covers hidden away in the shed in case they came in useful, and one is now protecting the cristophine.

As you can see, there are still viable fruits, and we prefer to leave them on the vine to ripen up fully.  By our reckoning, so far we have picked 18 fruits and there are still at least a dozen that are eating size on the vine, so it makes sense to try to keep it going until they are all ready.

On Thursday evening, as I was putting the chickens to bed, I heard a bit of tap-tap-tapping in the area, and looking across could see one of our neighbours trying to get the new slates onto the roof of the building he is renovating before the rain came.  He was assisted in his task, as it was after 7:30pm so pretty dark, by the fact the building is right by a street light.  Even so, he gave up as I think the shadows were falling unhelpfully, but all was not lost, as the promised rain turned out to be a scant 1 millimetre!  He and his woman are doing a pretty amazing job on the roof.

Today I finally had no more excuses and got round to putting together the Christmas puddings.  The raw mix as in the photo will stand overnight, fermenting, then will be stuffed into bowls and steamed for 10 hours tomorrow during the day, before being laid down until Christmas 2023 and 2024.  It's not technical, it's just finding all the bits required and chopping, peeling, shredding and juicing.  Once all the bits are ready, you just shove them in a bowl and mix a bit, and make wishes.  The magic happens in the 24 hours after, as they rest and then are steamed.  But the steaming is tomorrow's job.

This morning I got the steamer out and the mix into two basins and they are now cooking away, and keeping the kitchen warm.

It's not just us hunkering down - when I took the lid off the water butt to fill watering cans, I found two friends sheltering on the side of the barrel.  Not natural playmates I would have said, but they seemed happy enough and not too cross with me for disturbing them.  I put the lid back on when I had all the water I needed.

So that's it for the Monday update - apart from the fact that England won, France lost, and while today and tomorrow are cold, it will warm up again on Wednesday so the cover will come off the cristophine.

Have a good week!

 

 

Cooking and looking around

September continues it's mellow decent into Autumn and the vegetable plots keep giving, as do the fruit trees.  The quantity of fruit this year is truly breath taking and means a lot of sugar, a lot of peeling and a lot of finding new recipes.  One I was particularly pleased with was for slow poached quince, which could actually be done in the slow cooker, thus keeping surveillance to a minimum while it did its thing.  From solid and unpalatable to meltingly soft, spiced and delicious in 9 hours, while the house was filled with tantalising aromas.  There is a batch in the freezer, another third became the most luxurious crumble we have ever had, and a third we just scoffed as we could with ice cream.

Many more quince were chopped up into small pieces, boiled a long time and strained, to be made into 11 pots of ruby amber quince jelly - quite the prettiest of the jams and jellies I make!

Tomatoes are also having a good year, a very good year.  You can't really give them away at the moment, so have to do something with them.  I've made hot tomato gloop, I've made tomato sauce, now I am making tomato purée which takes up less space in the freezer.  I think there are about 2 kilos of chopped tomatoes of various varieties in this pot, being cooked down.

During the week I also cooked up a delicious cristophine gratin for supper - we have now had 5 individual fruits off the vine and there are another 10 that look like they will make it to edible size before the frosts, which is pretty amazing.

But it's not all cooking and preserving - every September there is a massive brocante or antiques fair at a local down called Durtal.  Obviously it stopped for Covid but before then it was the biggest such event of the year around us, and an absolute "must visit".  The roads and squares of the town would be stuffed with people and stalls with all sorts of tat; as well as the established restaurants and bars, there would be extra drinks and food stalls, including an oyster bar; and in my memory, every year it was hot and sunny.  

Covid has made a difference, as has Brexit.  For a couple of years there were camera crews from the BBC and Channel 4 doing shows, but no longer.  There were no British traders with stalls, and few British voices to be heard around the town.  There were fewer stalls and no oyster bar, and not all the restaurants were open.  The weather was good - sunny and not too hot, but on the other hand I got stung by a hornet, so wasn't too impressed.  There was still a fair amount of tat of course!

Durtal itself is a beautiful but forgotten little town on the River Loir (the small boy version, not la Loire), with a massive chateau in the centre of town, dominating the river crossing.  There are handsome old buildings wherever you look, and also the occasional heron...

Well I had better go and finish making that tomato purée now, but then I need to copy off all the photos from the trail camera, so next week there should be fox, deer, badger and perhaps boar action to entertain you.  Have a good week.

 

Wildlife at home and a look back at The Broads visit

The trail camera moved a while back but the grass around it got so long, we had problems with anything other than camouflage photos of what went through.  I pulled up some bits and bobs but then John strimmed through and now we can see rather better who or what is around.  Moths!  Which don't photograph well.  The deer are back but again not a good picture.  No sign of that wretched coypu again - perhaps it has wandered off?  The hare is around though, and always so beautiful to see!

Next week I will write about orchids - they are slowly coming out.  Of course I may forget...  Yesterday and today have been about getting work done to ensure food later in the summer and autumn.  I saw some small and not dead yet tomato plants in a local supermarket, so succumbed, although I know they will cause me heartache, not least if we have a moist and humid summer.  Anyway, I had the space and we have the 20 litre plastic cloches (well former heating fuel canisters), so yesterday I cleaned up the space a bit and planted the tomatoes next to the chillies and aubergines I bought at the vide grenier last week.  If they do well, there is most of a ratatouille there, I just need to set off the courgette plants.

So now for the travelogue - The Broads are very beautiful but in a rather bleak way.  But as soon as you get up on to a bit of higher land (say 40 feet above sea level), you are into standard East Anglian rolling farmland.  This on the World War II discovery circular path that goes out from Acle and I was standing by a disused and overgrown pill box.

But out in the middle of the Broads, like here down on Halvergate Marshes, you get the feel of the immensity of the sky and the landscape.  This is looking towards Mutton's Mill, but if I looked 90º to the West, there was a clump of another 3 or 4 mills.  There are spots where you can see up to 8 or 9, but some are now surrounded by trees or have fallen down.  Mutton's Mill will be having the scaffolding taken down once the driveway dries out, then the refurbished sails will be put back on and it will be magnificent.  By September all work should be completed.

Suffolk Wildlife Trust's Carlton Marshes reserve is being extended along the River Waveney, and there are accessible hides and landing stages, lots of nesting and migrating birds and some nice cattle keeping the scrub down.  The Trust has been able to rebuild the visitor facilities to create a magnificent café area, for use by visitors and by local community groups (there was a Knit and Natter group there when I visited).  The floor to ceiling window over the Marshes gives a mesmerising view.

RSPB Strumpshaw is another rather splendid reserve and well appreciated by locals and twitchers who come vast distances to see the birds there.  At one end of the Reserve there is Strumpshaw Pump House - a engine house for pumping water, so a different generation to the windmills.  It has a rather impressive chimney that is a navigation point out on the marshes.  The pump house itself has an interesting architecture and has been renovated and a bat box put on the outside although with so much natural habitat close by, it isn't that well used.  A new, wildlife bench has been installed and is wonderfully tactile.

Whitlingham Country Park and Broad is close to Norwich and the most accessible part, and will have Changing Places toilets installed by September too.  As with all the Broads, it is man-made, but more recent than the others, dating back only to the last century.  It is home however to at least 78 confirmed different species including bittern and otters.  I met Egyptian geese there - pretty, but a non-native invasive species.

Well, that's it for this week.  Next week I will be back to purely French subjects.