Most of the time at work, I got on well with my customers, but sometimes frustration would build to the point where I was concerned that it would not be long before I would hit one of them.
Rather than risk that, I would call my boss and tell him that I needed to take a half day of my annual leave at short notice. If he objected, I only had to mention the possible devastating effect that not agreeing, might have on his business for him to willingly comply.
I had a couple of close friends who could be relied on, to also take a break and join me. On these occasions I would almost skip out of the customer’s offices at lunch time and make my way across London, to a pub where I would meet Mark and Pete.
We would consume large quantities of beer, go for a slap up meal with wine and then visit more pubs for more beer. We would get to our respective homes late in the evening in a pretty sorry state. Luckily most of these occasions fell on a Friday, so Saturday could be spent recovering, with no negative impact on the customer’s project.
It was on one of these occasions in February 1990, that I persuaded Mark and Pete to accompany me to Frasquenet to help me decorate and to enjoy eating and drinking French style. Obviously I emphasised the latter activities rather than the former, so it was agreed subject to the approval of our respective spouses, that April would be the target month.
I devoted considerable time looking into flights and car hire. It didn’t take long to discover that at that time, a Fly/Drive deal to Toulouse offered much better value for money, than the ordinary flight to Montpellier with separate car hire, which I had used in December.
The tickets were purchased, the car was booked and April was soon upon us. We met at Seven pm one Wednesday evening at Heathrow Airport for the eight o’clock flight to Toulouse.
I volunteered to drive from Toulouse to Frasquenet that night, so while the others downed their pints of beer, in one of the airport bars, I restricted myself to lemonade, Coca Cola and mineral water.
The Air France flight was delayed by a little over an hour. This gave Mark and Pete more time to continue drinking. Once we were on the aeroplane that activity continued.
The delay when combined with the one hour time difference, caused us to arrive at Toulouse just before midnight. We were relieved that we made it to the car hire desk just before it closed.
After a short while in the car park, exploring the controls of the white Renault 5, and crunching a few of the gears, we were on the Route des Deux Meres following the signs to Montpellier and Barcelone.
Although it was not actually raining, the road was very wet, not a good omen for nice weather. Despite the large quantity of alcohol they had consumed at Heathrow and on the plane, both Mark and Pete managed to stay awake for most of the nearly two hour drive to Frasquenet.
We were all gobsmacked by the sight of Carcassonne, which was clearly visible from the toll road. Even in the early hours of an April morning the floodlights were on, illuminating the old fortified city against the pitch black sky. We agreed that a visit to this magnificent citadel must be added to our schedule.
We left the peage just after Carcassonne and followed the Route National towards Narbonne. Shortly before Narbonne we turned off to the left and made our way on narrow country roads through a couple of villages, and then through the vineyards to Frasquenet.
This approach to Frasquenet at night is the eeriest, culminating in a plane tree lined road, which passes the cemetery at the edge of the village. The cemetery itself contains an impressive selection of moonlight reflecting Cyprus trees, which add to the spooky atmosphere.
As I unlocked and opened the massive doors to the barn and stared into the darkness beyond, I was glad to have the company of my two inebriated friends. Having reversed the car inside and locked up, we then made our way up the steps to the courtyard and the house.
I opened the back door and waited to be knocked out by the smell. There was no smell except for a slight mustiness, which I was not surprised by.
The electricity was soon switched on followed by the lights. Bedrooms were allocated and sleeping bags were unrolled on plastic covered beds. The house was soon silent again except for the sound of snoring.
I awoke and threw open the shutters of the front bedroom which I was occupying. Rather the than the glorious hot Mediterranean sunshine I had been hoping for, the sky was overcast and it was cool.
Frasquenet Barn/Garage – Before & After
I consoled myself that it wasn’t actually raining. I washed, got dressed and having checked that Mark and Pete were still snoring comfortably, made my way first to inspect the repair work to the barn / garage wall and then on to the village shops.
The first shop I visited was the general food store next to the post office. The owner Michael, who I had only tried to speak to once before, in December, greeted me as though I was a long lost friend.
I could not understand a lot of what was being said, but his body language was very positive and many “ca vas” and “aurevoirs” later, I exited loaded up with coffee, sugar, milk, butter, marmalade and a bottle of Vin de Frasquenet.
Next door was a boulangerie, where I bought a baguette and three croissants, making a mental note to try some of the other interesting looking offerings, on a future occasion.
By the time I got back to the house Mark and Pete had got up and the kettle was boiling. Over breakfast we discussed the agenda for the day. We agreed that we would try to get the work done as soon as possible, so we could set about enjoying ourselves.
We drove to the route de Perpignan in Narbonne and bought a small television from an electrical store. Next we returned to a decorators shop I had found in December. I loaded up the trolley with several tins of white matt emulsion paint and various large brushes. On arrival at the check out however, there appeared to be some problem.
The lady behind the till spoke to me in a very local French accent, though I doubt if I would have understood, even had it been perfect Parisien. Soon everyone in the queue which had been forming behind me, were all talking excitedly with the cashier and gesticulating at my chosen paint brushes. I have to say that the gesticulations appeared to be friendly.
The check-out lady held up the largest paint brush, pointed to the emulsion and made painting motions, while shaking her head.
Ten minutes later we were back in the car, purchases successfully made. The two largest brushes had been swapped under intense advice, to paint rollers with trays. This had been slightly more expensive than the brushes, but I appreciated the concern for our effort and the quality of finish.
Back at the house Mark and Pete set about applying the white emulsion to the living room walls which I had painted with the lead paint back in December. While they did this I gave the shower-room ceiling a coat from what was left of the lead paint, before installing new wall light fittings to replace those taken by the previous owner. I also replaced the shower-room light switch, which used to produce a large blue spark each time it was operated, with a cord operated one, hoping to reduce the chance of electrocution.
Living Room After Decorating
At about five o’clock we stopped work for the day, had showers and put some slightly smarter clothes on for the evening.
We consulted Mark’s Michelin guide and opted to try the two star restaurant Alsace in Narbonne. Pete had drawn the short straw and became our driver for the evening.
On the way we stopped once more at the decorators shop to pick up a tin of light grey acrylic paint to finish off the shower-room ceiling. There was much gesturing, smiling and laughing when we approached the till for the second time that day, but there was no disagreement with the purchase I was making.
We also stopped at the Monoprix in the centre of Narbonne, to pick up pillows and blankets for the house. Jane had already laden me down with stocked up linen, which she had purchased during the January sales in London.
The Restaurant Alsace was easily found, since it is directly opposite Narbonne’s railway station. We decided to treat ourselves to the 240 franc menu. The decor was smart, the service efficient and the food superb.
All three of us were particularly impressed with the duck liver pate, which had the consistency of chilled butter and which, like butter simply melted in the mouth. The waiter recommended a bottle of Corbieres des Demoisselles, which turned out to be an excellent recommendation. The meal was completed with coffee served with homemade chocolate truffles.
After the meal we made our way to a ‘piano bar’ in one of Narbonne’s shopping streets, near the main square. Nobody was playing the piano, but we enjoyed a couple of beers while taking in our surroundings, which had a Dutch bar type of atmosphere.
Pete got us home safely, where we drank some more beer and watched French television, before going to bed.
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