As you will have observed from the date of this submission, we are past the longest day of the year and the Cicadas are out in force with their high pitched hissing, which is in direct competition with my normal tinnitus. In fact it is almost impossible to detect which is which! The forecast says it is hot today and even hotter tomorrow when temperatures are expected to rise to 90°F. (32°C) It is also humid (well over 50%) and there is a threat of a tropical storm.
A sea of red fruits at Marmande Market
Poor Teddy (The Norwich Terrier) finds it far too hot to walk very far, even in the early morning. He is genetically impaired with a very narrow trachea (Wind pipe) which makes him gasp for breath as soon as hot weather comes - It sounds horrible and his tongue goes blue . He needs lots of water and he takes great delight in wallowing in the shallow waters of the Garonne just near to us, to cool himself down. This does the trick immediately.
Port de Meilhan - sur- Garonne having a make-over
We are now into the first of two main French holiday months and the weather kicks off obligingly with a tropical storm which lasts all morning on the 1st July. It is such a big storm that we fear for the power supply to our boat. I unhook our shore line connection in case we are struck by lightning. The Meilhan campsite is practically full of holiday makers. There is much jollity and noise but somehow all good well intentioned fun.
A jolly crew, but all English speaking, just a few feet from our doors at Meilhan.
Whilst Lucie is away I am determined to take this opportunity to make good use of the additional time I have to myself so I decide to play session nine of Michel Thomas's "Talking French". I am resolved this year to get stuck-in to the "lingo". My progress to date, in this respect, has been rather slower than I would have liked which, in truth, is probably because I have a French speaking wife and most people on the canals seem to be English speaking too. In short, I have been encouraged, so far, to be lazy.
Each Wednesday, during the summer, Meilhan sports her evening market, "Marché Des Producteurs", where one buys one's own raw food, has it cooked at the grill and sits down to "live" music and the wine one has bought or has brought oneself.
Both ends of Body and Soul are open wide to allow a cooling draft through the boat so that I can listen in comfort, on our new sofa-bed, to our Hi Fi. Our electric fan is droning soporifically, streaming cool air in my direction and helpfully keeping the naughty flies off me. I apply my full attention to the programme. Unknown to me however, the tables outside the Capitainerie are filling up with holiday makers and some regulars who are ordering beers, other cool drinks and ice-creams - just a few yards from our wide open doors. My concentration, in this heat, fails me in less than five minutes and I nod off with the ninth lesson broad-casted so that all the world except me can hear.
After about half an hour or so I am woken by a raucous noise of hysterical laughter coming from the punters at the bar outside who are shouting the answers to all the test questions from Mr. Thomas that I should have been answering on lesson eleven - having a good laugh at the same time. I turn off the lesson and join the crowd and start speaking French as best I can - with the highly amused French. That is of course, how it has to be done!
- but, as I have 'oft said, it really isn't all plain sailing, y'know.