Basil: “Cette affaire WiFi est une pagaille.”  Choeur des villageois: “Non Basil! C’est un bordel!” (Basil: “This WiFi business is a shambles.”  Chorus of villagers: “No Basil! It’s a complete cock-up!”  Flashback to my arrival here 15 years ago: “Ici, c’est pas hiver en novembre” (“Here it’s not winter in November”) our delightful septuagenarian neighbour had intoned with his usual genial smile.  I had been waxing ecstatically to him on the warmth and sunshine one day in late November 1991.  Christophe (the neighbour) was delivering our first large canister of butane gas, the only commodity you can actually buy in the village.  To this day, ever lean and active, Christophe still heaves the gas up our steps to the kitchen as though he were carrying nothing heavier than a box of Christmas crackers. A recent Saturday here in late November 06 was like that day 15 years ago.  The brilliant sunshine was hot enough for our fair-skinned visitor from England to have to apply her sun cream.  However, Clare and I had to sacrifice the afternoon sun for an hour.  As the cacophony of guns and howling dogs signified the manic post-prandial pursuit of wild boor on the steep hillside above the village, we trooped inside the Mairie (our Village Council building) to attend a very important meeting. Representing 15 households, we were about thirty altogether in number - including several tiny but generally quiescent occupants of buggies and carrycots.  The mayor was in the chair, but the man in the firing line we had come to see was a man I will call Monsieur Bernard Sirac, styled as “Commercial Engineer” in our region for France Télécom – France’s much loathed and joked-about state-owned telecommunications company, reportedly in debt to the tune of 70 billion euros (= c. 92 billion dollars or 48 billion gbps).  M. Sirac had come here all the way from Montpellier, causing him a round trip of a good 260 miles and more.   Acces “Haut Debit”  (High Speed Access/Broadband) The official intentions to date had been laudable, though they have been pathetically inadequate in realisation.  As part of a local government effort to bring broadband internet access to France’s remotest villages (ours is definitely one of those), the decision had been made by the Conseil Général (the County Council) to subsidise the installation by France Télécom of a wireless system called Pack Surf Wifi into each and every household wishing to get high-speed internet access. We each received contracts specifying the cost of 63.39 euros for the installation - the balance of 201 euros being paid by the Conseil Général.  Other specifications included a monthly rental of 25.90€ for unlimited access and guaranteed connection speeds (“liaison 512/218 kbs/s”).  The contracts had been brokered by our very efficient Mairie. By early October we each had fixed to our houses an aerial within sight of a large satellite dish erected on the highest building in the village.  The aerials were linked by cable to each computer. So far so good.  But since then, chaos and frustration!  In our case, the first signs of impending doom were the time it took for France Télécom’s data engineers to configure my new system with Outlook Express.  One man arrived from Perpignan, scratched his head and went out to get his manual.  No go, alas, so he summoned assistance.  Two more men eventually arrived and busied themselves with endless phone calls to someone at France Télécom’s so-called “technical assistance”.  After about three hours my system was up and running. Running? Well only just. Access, downloading and uploading were infinitely slower than our analogue system already in place by landline (service provider Tiscali/Alice).  Nevertheless we remained upbeat and had a router installed from my computer to Clare’s in her office next to mine.  Though rather than get France Télécom to configure my WiFi connection to her pc we enlisted the kind help of a neighbour who had hers up and running in less than half an hour. Ras Le Bol! (Enough is Enough!) Frustration mounted throughout the village.  Every morning in the bread queue (we have fresh bread delivered 6 days a week) we kept comparing download speeds.  “Last night I was down to 3 kb/s.” “Yesterday afternoon I was cut off for an hour.” “This morning I was listening to the radio and had to give up.”

RESOURCE LINKS FOR FRANCE Moving to France Articles, resources, links, and very unique innovations. Articles about Living & Moving to France Articles about living, moving and working in France. France Country Information Weather, government, maps. Books about France Books on jobs in France, living in France, and what it takes to move to France. France: Economy & Business Banks, Real Estate, Investing, Properties in France. Real Estate In France Real Estate In France - Current real estate listings of properties in France. France - Real Estate A list of links to French real estate. Vacation Rentals In France Vacation Rentals worldwide - including France Vacation & Travel In France EscapeArtist Travel - Our new section providing unique travel to unique locations Embassies and Consulates for France Embassy Resources for France - On our sister site EmbassyWorld. Links, links and more links Links, Search Engines Art & Culture resources for France. Maps of France Maps of France - Our own Embassy maps plus a large number of differing France maps, also including city maps. Hospitals in France Hospitals Around The World by Region - Europe. Jobs in France Links for finding Jobs in France. Newspapers & Media for France World Media from France. Banks in France See Banks of France at our Banks of Europe Section. France: Travel & Tourism Information about Travel and Tourism in France.  Travel Guides, Vacations, Car Rentals, Tours and much more! Previous articles on France: France: Le Bout du Monde If you came to visit us for the first time, you might think that our tiny village of Cansal in the Fenouillèdes, surrounded completely by sloping vineyards, is as dead as a dodo. Let me try to convince you why Cansal (c. 90 inhabitants) is never, ever boring. We'll start with Henri, a nicely pot-bellied octogenarian, strong as an ox, who proudly showed me his graveyard harem one day when I met him by chance in the village cemetery. Le Bout du Monde 2 No matter how remote you are from civilisation people are the same.  Some of these stories from the back of beyond in Le Fenouillèdes could come straight out of hot reality TV shows, or the most popular urban soaps from around the world.  All human life is here in this tiny village of 90 souls, surrounded by vines, sun-scorched garrigue scrubland and maquis.  Not to mention dense woods of murky green kermes oaks full of wild boar, roebuck deer (chevreuil) and so many other wild animals. Le Bout Du Monde 3 - Basil Howitt sends another ragbag of rich and varied snippets from the back of beyond in the Languedoc-Roussillon, taking in loos, lechers, and lunches galore... I adore our Pyrenean village of Cansal so much that I never ever really want to leave it.  Except, of course, for my regular 3½ mile loop walk with its breathtaking views (described last time) of the mountains and the Mediterranean. However, wives have to be satisfied and mine, Clare, being nine years younger than me, sometimes drags me screaming and kicking to accompany her on an outing somewhere.  It’s just that having driven so many thousands of miles during my years as a freelance cellist, I now loathe car journeys, however good the driver. Le Bout du Monde 4 - In this fourth despatch from his tiny village in the Languedoc - Roussillon, Basil Howitt ventures a little further afield in search of the good things of life. Le Bout du Monde 5 - Basil Howitt reports on the hoards of Brits invading the Pyrénées Orientales (and elsewhere), and rails against unwanted visitors who invade his little patch of paradise at Le Bout du Monde. He is also bewitched by a Woman in White at a festival of grilled scallions “grown on steroids and viagra”.

Which all brings us back to the meeting in the Mairie.  There was plenty of very straight talking but no unpleasantness.  (Don’t shoot the messenger.)  M. Sirac accepted on behalf of his paymasters that the system we have is not adequate and that we will not have to pay for either the installation nor the subscription until the problem is sorted.  Those who have already paid will be reimbursed. 

To ram the point home our fine Monsieur le Maire has written to this effect not only to the Regional Director of France Télécom, but also to the President of the Conseil General, the Préfet (Chief of the “Auxiliary” Police), and to the Association des Maires. Voilà!

After the meeting France Télécom did tried to wriggle out of the issue by blaming the “inherent” faultiness of the main satellite in outer space. But the mayor was having none of that. He argued forcefully that whilst there were problems here and in other remote villages (Fosse and St Martin among them) the system worked perfectly well elsewhere.  If the satellite itself was to blame then no village would have good wireless contact.

Watch this space!  And meanwhile three cheers for the French system of Mairies.  There is nothing remotely equivalent in the UK to look after the detailed interests of residents in very small communities.

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Our lovely local vet Yvonne, who has become a dear friend of ours and lives in another nearby village, invited us in one Sunday morning for an impromptu aperitif when we called in on her.

Before pouring us an excellent local Chardonnay, she did explain that she was on call – and sure enough she was very soon called!  A hunting dog had been very badly gored by a wild boor (sanglier) during a hunt over the mountain in the Corbières, a good half-hour’s drive away.  On arrival she sedated the poor animal and tried to sow him up on a makeshift operating table.  As she struggled against time, the hound breathed his last. Animals are Yvonne’s passion as well as her profession, and she was heartbroken. 

She will never countenance any neglected or stray cat or dog being put down.  She tries hard to find a home for them, and if unsuccessful she takes them in.  She is kindness itself.

If only the same could be said for most of the owners of the hunting dogs!  Alas, far too many of these animals are treated abominably.  They are locked up and fed on scraps in tiny outhouses or kennels for the whole of the time they are not hunting.  In Yvonne’s words, “C’est dégoutant!” (“It’s disgusting”.)

“Ail, Ail, Ail” (“Garlic, Garlic, Garlic”)
Just now, on this sunny December morning, I was interrupted by the garlic man arriving at the village.  He comes three times a year and shouts – or rather chants in muezzin or plainsong fashion - his wares in a distinctive high tenor voice, accompanied by rapid pips of his van horn. Fortunately for us, it must be worth his while to come all the way from the Gers region, south east of Bordeaux and north west of Toulouse.  A good 200 miles and more from here.

I am now the deliriously happy possessor of 2 tresses of his magnificent garlic: 24 fist-sized hard bulbs with cloves almost as plump as walnuts.
I can’t wait to do my favourite dish with these cloves, slightly adapted from a recipe in my battered copy of Richard Olney’s “Simple French Food”: several chicken pieces mixed thoroughly by hand with a score or more of the unpeeled cloves, a quarter of a pint of olive oil, and a sprinkling of dried herbs.  Then pack a large tied bouquet garni of fresh herbs plus leek greens and a branch of celery inside this mixture.  Bake well sealed in the oven for a good two hours at about 160c/325F.

Oh dear! Here I am once again, back on the topic of food!

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The reason the obsession continues is because children are hooked at a very tender age: from the time they enter the école maternelle (nursery school) at age 3 or even younger, and during their time at the école primaire (primary or elementary school) from the age of 6 to 11.  This gastronomic indoctrination is almost as fanatical as the religious brainwashing of children by the Jesuits, whose success is legendary.  (“Give me a child until he is seven and I will show you the man.”) 

We read in “legout.com” that each autumn during La Semaine du Goût “a devoted team of some 3500 chefs is sent to French schools to initiate children into delicious and healthy cooking.  Meanwhile, some 400 restaurants offer reduced price menus for students and special childrens’ menus are served at selected restaurants in Paris and the French regions.”

Eat you heart out Jamie Oliver!  You’ve worked your socks off trying to introduce good eating habits into British schools, with backing from the government.  But alas, so far, although the horse has been led to the water, it has mainly  refused to drink.

There has certainly been plenty of proselytising activity this year in villages within striking distance of Perpignan, capital of French Catalonia. Judging from these snippets I’ve gleaned and paraphrased from L’Indépendant during November, it seems that induction into chocolate-based cooking techniques are particularly popular!  The grilling of chestnuts comes a close second. 

At MAUREILLAS-LAS-ILLAS (up in the Vallespir near the Spanish border), having in previous years learned the basics of pastry making, the children this year were shown how to make a mousse au chocolat.  They witnessed the transformation of egg whites from their initial sticky, gooey state to “voluminous, snowy frothiness”.  They also saw hard butter becoming soft and pliable, and crunchy chocolate chips becoming liquidized when heated.  And they even learned such funny cookery terms as “cul de poule” (“chicken’s arse” or a cooking utensil shaped like a salad bowl) and “cornes” (“horns” – a flat flexible utensil used to scrape out the inner surfaces of whatever container).  Well, the children learned a lot – and so have I, just, thanks to google!

Inevitably by the end of the tasting there were many chocolate moustaches!  And, parents be warned, the children will inevitably want to repeat the lesson at home.

At TAUTAVEL – famous for its museum celebrating the discovery of pre-historic man there 450,000 years ago - a class of 24 pupils was taught and served by the kitchen team from the restaurant Bellavista.  Chef Denis Visellach inducted them into the secrets of making – then tasting - “mikado de chocolat” (chocolate biscuits) with feuillantine and coconut (seemingly a multi-layered topping).  Practice had followed theory in the classroom. One child, Robin, went home having taken to heart the fact that chocolate is “good for the health but only in small quantities.”

At CLAIRA, near the coast above Perpignan, “les petits boulangers” (the little bakers) of the primary school visited the bakeries of the giant supermarket Carrefour to study all aspects of bread making from flour production to baking.  Wearing their little bakers’ hats, they kneaded the dough and fashioned baguettes and pain au chocolat with their own hands!  Naturally their efforts were crowned with samplings!

At ARGÈLES-SUR-MER, the olive farm Mas Boutet greeted a group of 55 nursery school children aged 2 to 5 and their 6 teachers from La Bressola in Perpigan.  Mme Isabelle Girodeau welcomed them and extolled all the benefits of olive oil.  The children spent the morning picking olives in the grove of 140 trees, with a lovely backdrop view of the Mediterranean down below.  After Mme Isabelle had answered all the children’s questions there was a picnic in the shade of the pine trees.  As well as the olives, the farm dog and donkey were also both very popular attractions!

Then off they all went in the bus (chance for a little siesta) to another mill at Corneilla-la-Rivière to watch the milling and pressing of the olives, Genaro explaining the whole process.  Finally there was a tasting, and samples were handed round for the children to take home!

At ILLE-SUR-TÊTE (south west of Perpignan) the Ecole maternelle Torcatis laid on a Castanyada (a chestnut fête) to which parents and grandparents were invited. The children and one of their teachers first gave a carefully prepared little performance of songs and dances both French and Catalan.  The adults then busied themselves with selecting, cracking and grilling the nuts over wood fires.  What better way could there be to unite both children, parents and the wider community than round a huge pan of grilling chestnuts? Finally, sachets of chestnuts and drinks were distributed.  The chestnuts were delicious.  Merci à tout!

School Canteen dinners to Die For
The passion for fostering good eating habits and high-quality cuisine is maintained all the year round. I recently asked two completely bi-lingual small daughters of friends of ours in nearby St Marc what their canteen dinners were like in their primary school.  “Very good,” they said immediately, “even though mummy’s cooking is better.”

You will find on the internet, published at least a month ahead, school canteen menus served all over France.  Those for Perpignan schoolchildren are also sometimes published in l’Indépendant on Mondays.  That way, parents can avoid repeating the same meals in the evening.

All these meals are surely models of good balanced dietary practice.  Take these three actual lunch menus for the three Mondays in December 2006 served to the several thousand primary school “subscribers” in Perpignan.  (Translation only where thought necessary):
Enfants 

• salade reinette à la mimolette (Cox’s apple salad with an Edam-type cheese)
• lapin aux pruneaux (rabbit with prunes)
• pâtes au beurre (buttered pasta)
• mirabelles au sirop (cherry plums in syrup)

• tarte au gruyère 
• côtelette de mouton (mutton chops)
• haricots verts au maïs (green beans with sweet corn)
• mandarine (oranges)

• mesclun mimosa (dressed baby lettuces)
• côte de porc (pork chops)
• pommes boulangères (potatoes done in the oven)
• fromage blanc aux pommes (fromage blanc with apples)
• oranges

What a fantastic start in life for children to go to school and be presented with such excellent menus.  The French realise the importance of good eating to a morale-boosting lifestyle – to a sense of well being.  And thank goodness that most French children still eat at the table with their parents every day, in contrast to English children (and Americans also?) where the default is now reportedly a microwaved meal in front of the television.

GOURMET FRENCH FOOD IN SPACE
So crucial is good eating to morale that (you may well have already heard) gourmet food in sterilised containers has been propelled 250 miles up into space for the three astronauts – a Russian, an American and a German - in the International Space Station.  Courtesy the European Space Agency, on Sunday 3rd December these men enjoyed the following choice dishes prepared by the chef Alain Ducasse in his kitchens at Bidarray in the Pays Basques: 

• Sicilian caponata (an exotic sauce, in this version, of red peppers, courgettes, almonds, raisins and tomato purée);
• roast quails au Madiran (a sauce made with red Madiran wine) on a bed of celeriac purée with a grating of nutmeg;
• rice pudding with a fruit conserve.

Bon Appétit, albeit after the event, to the astronauts!  And what a welcome change from such standard astronaut fare as pasta in tubes and freeze dried potatoes! 

Au revoir et à bientôt!
 

Original French Village drawing by Susan Young see www.hungryeyeimages.com