The Rabbi's Daughter

Vieux Boucau:

Drove 4 hours down the coast to our new location. A self-catering apartment in a small town called Vieux Boucau. Tonight we will be watching a game of pelote and shepherds on stilts.

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The Rabbi's Daughter by Reva Mann

Almost finished this gripping autobiography about a teenage wild child in London who repeatedly disgraces her Rabbi father and her mother in swinging London. Then goes to the other extreme and marries a strictly orthodox Jew and brings up a family in Jerusalem - the latter course of action also disapproved of by her liberal Jewish parents.

It is written with the no holds barred style of Tracey Emin. I can't believe that anyone should be this confessional.

I have almost finished it but have stopped to report this example of  what I consider to be honest and accurate reporting of the human condition.

She flies back to London (on her own) to be with her father who is dying in a London hospital. When he dies, she as the only rational child has lots of decisions to take. Suddenly, and for the first time in her life, and after leading a suppressed female life in the Jerusalem orthodox community, she feels entirely confident in herself. She feels like a strong Jewish woman and takes charge of the funeral arrangements bossing about all the Rabbis that have appeared out of the woodwork.

Is this the end of the journey of self-growth that she has been on for the last 35 years???

The book immediately rolls forwards 3 months and she is back living with her Orthodox husband and bringing up the three children in pretty straitened circumstances. (He studies the Torah all day and she earns the money as a mid-wife.)

The answer is a resounding No.

Despite being convinced when in London that she has turned some kind of developmental corner, she cannot transfer the feeling back into her Jerusalem circumstances. She is as downtrodden and unconfident as ever.

Such is life ....... and I, for one, appreciate the honesty with which she reports the ephemeralness of her growth experience.

Cycling on Ile d'Oleron

Cycled from Cheray to Le Douhet. If you are a novice on a bike then Oleron is perfect - flat and smooth cycle tracks all over the place connecting all the towns and villages and in today's case traversing the salt marshes and ending up at a little bistro in Le Douhet.

Passing little cottages.

Salt marshes



Wild white horses

And stopping at a bistrot for lunch.

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Lunch at the bistro:

Smoked salmon galette ie rectangular crepe made from buckwheat;  salad and Vichy bottled water.

A





And ordered a cafe au lait which came with highly foamed milk already mixed in - like a cappuccino and thus not my favourite mode.

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Last night's dinner:

Skate with fried potatoes on the hotel room veranda.

Preceded by the local aperitif, Pineau and then the local vin de pays.

Mass in Dolus d'Oleron

Travelled about 5 miles to attend Mass in Dolus this morning - one of only 2 Masses held on the entire island. This shortage of priests is deeply depressing. There can now be only two priests left to serve Oleron. Next year perhaps there wil be none - then what?

Anyway, pretty well a full church with very strong singing led by the ubiquitous middle-aged female 'cantor' - I think that's what you would call her.

French sermons are very long by British standards and are real acts of oratory.

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Today's lunch on our hotel room's verandah:

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Last night's dinner:

Foie Gras

Dorade

Cafe creme

In fact, I asked for cafe au lait but the bill described it as cafe creme - the milk was already stirred into it - I'm sure it was milk rather than cream.

Log on a blog.

Last night's dinner:

In a small bistro in St Pierre, L'ile D'Oleron.

L'andouillette: ostensibly, a large pork sausage. On the inside seems to be every part of a pig's innards. Excellent.

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The search for cafe au lait:

You never know what you are going to get when you order cafe au lait. This is true in the UK as well as in France.

So, on Thursday in Bordeaux I was given a cup of espresso and an accompanying tiny jug of hot milk.

Last night in St Pierre it was a cup of  espresso with cream already added and stirred in.

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Quirky pictures of France:

This morning went to an outdoor bric-a-brac sale in Dolus - small town on the island - hoping to find some railway paraphernalia.

Didn't, but there was some fantastic old garden furniture.

And the usual selection of firearms.

La Cotiniere, I'Ile d'Oleron

Last night's dinner:

Consumed in Bordeaux:

Large prawns, squid stuffed with aubergine on lettuce.

Today we arrived in Oleron and our usual hotel.

Off to France

Not sure what is going to happen to this blog whilst we are in France.

If it is possible to write one whilst there then I'll include a couple of photos of the quirky side of French life. Hope to bring back some railway paraphernalia.

In the mean time:

And,

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Last night's dinner:

AGA still out of commission so to Pizza Express with Scott and Jacqui: forgot to take photograph of meal.

Dry and Heavy in concert

When I return from France in July, I intend to get cracking on raising the height of the baseboard. Turned my mind to that issue last night and came across an interesting and important decision that needs to be taken:

How high should the board be?

Certainly, it has to be high enough to clear the central heating radiator.  But if it's too high then I won't be able to sit comfortably at it unless I use a high breakfast bar type stool/chair. Also, if it is too high then young children will not be able to see it. On the other hand, the higher it is the more can be stored beneath it and the easier will access be to the underneath if a wiring adjustment has to be made. Mmmmmhhhh!

At the moment it is 70cm high. The radiator is 81cm and a further clearance of 15cm will be required, I would think. That would take it to 96cm. But sitting  in an ordinary chair, the edge of the board would cut across my chest.

Will have to consider the high stool/chair option.

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Dry and Heavy:

Wondered if there was any youTube footage available of the Japanese reggae group, Dry and Heavy.

Indeed there was, from an outdoor festival somewhere in Japan.

What impressed me was the demeanour of fans and musicians. One of the long-term members of Dry and Heavy chose this moment to announce his retirement from the band after many years.

He made an emotional and what appeared to be eloquent speech, full of gravitas. The crowd listened respectfully and sympathetically. The whole set up was very civilised.

I would never even consider going to an European festival. The conditions are filthy; toilet facilities vile; fan behaviour bound to reflect the criminal pattern of the society from which the fans have come; and probably a lot of unnecessary jostling.

The Japanese festival looked more like an outdoor opera at Glyndebourne.

Here is the youTube link.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8qo_NELjfo

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Last night's dinner:

Not worth photographing - an utterly dismal bacon sandwich.