Monthly Archives: September 2013

20130919 – Christmas Party and Home

Thursday – grey and warm.

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Meanwhile Wendy’s still “pussyfooting” around, but foot does seem to be getting better slowly. For some excitement cleaned and waxed the right hand side of the caravan. Saving the left hand side to savour on another day.

Risked another bottle of Chinon wine. Confirms my long held belief on French wines. If it’s in a Burgundy bottle then forget it – with the exception of Pinot Noire. Stick to Bordeaux’s they’re so much smoother and don’t wake you up in the middle of the night. 

Friday – hot and sunny. Weather seems to have turned for the better.

Drive up to the market at Thouars. Wander around and admire all those lovely foods but as usual buy nothing. Coffee in a street cafe, people watching, in the sun.

SLK with top down; queen blasting out; wind blowing through my hair – just can’t do a thing with it. This is the life.

Leisurely afternoon in the sun. After 3 years our 6Kg of Butane is empty, time to invest in a refill.

Saturday – hot and sunny.

Stap me vitals. More excitement as I clean the left hand side of caravan. Have to get some tablets to clam me down at this rate.

Lazy day. Donned me best shorts and tatty thongs ready for the Christmas party.

Actually really depressing to think we’re going to a Christmas party in September. The one saving grace is there was no turkey or tinsel. But this is the start of the slippery slope to one foot in the grave. Next stop Wallace Arnold coach tours. Arghhh! Whats a 16 year old mind doing in a 63 year old body, sat at a Christmas party surrounded by coffin dodgers singing jingle bells. Get me out of here. As a token gesture to Christmas spirit I manage a grimace on a photo.

Overall it was a nice gesture. Jacobs join with mulled wine and Christmas pud provided by Jo and Allister. Double helping of Christmas pud. Can we call it that or is it non PC (I hope), perhaps it should be Winter pud.

As for the rat in a handbag – see picture – I’ve reported them to the RSPCA for mental cruelty to animals. How can people be so cruel. The poor thing will need years in therapy to get over it.

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Sunday – hot and sunny.

Wax the caravan. Is there no end to the excitement.

Never let it be said that this retirement life is easy. Difficult and momentous decision needed as we leave France. Do I fill the only passenger seat in the car with another 36 bottles of wine or Wendy? Hard choice. But then thoughts of starvation and malnutrition enter into my deliberations. So Wendy it is.

Monday – hot and sunny.

More excitement, clean the car. Car looks stunning when clean, but whose idea was white?

Nearly finished my Climate Change course from Chicago University. Also reading a frightening book on Islam ” The Politically Incorrect Guide to Islam”. Really makes you realise that Islam just seeks World domination. Dress it up however you like and the Dhimmi politicians can pander to them all they want, but there’s only one end game. Wake up, smell the coffee.

Why are designers so incompetent? Do they never bother testing their creations? Have they no common sense? Just a little thought could make life so much easier. Spare tyre hardly fits, a nightmare to get in or out. Yet just 1/2″ shaved off a fancy piece of plastic would solve it. Why is tyre valve underneath? I know so that you have to take the tyre out to check the pressure rather than doing it in situ! Caravans are the absolute pits for common senseless design. I could go on all day.

Tuesday – hot and sunny.

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Hate packing up. Wendy’s in full swing spring cleaning mode. I really do think she enjoys it. Best keep out the way. All this cleaning etc makes you wonder whether it’s really worth it.

Despatched to supermarket to buy my wine. Can they be bothered to get me some boxes. What do you think? Show floozie on checkout 1 bottle and explain both in French and with my fingers how many I have. She can see them. Oh no she wants me to take them all out and put them on the conveyor.
“No if you don’t trust me, come around here and check them.” Lengthy phone call to higher authority, ensues.
I’ll be dammed if I’m being treat like a potential thief. I keep thinking I’m a customer customer. Oh well they can put their wine back.
I wouldn’t mind, but apparently they even insist on examining any bags you have. Bear in mind there’s no plastic bags in France so you have to take quite a few bags with you.

Wednesday – hot and sunny.

Up at the crack of sparrows and after the usual faffing around we finally get on the road. 

Breakfast was going to be an egg Macmuffin but being France MacD’s can’t be bothered opening until 09:30 – now there’s a surprise.

As we leave France we get a confirmation of how right my Francophobian rants are. Women cover your eyes. The picture says most of it. Taken in the petrol forecourt / car park of a very busy hypermarket, young kids and women all around. What a lazy pissartist. There’s some excellent clean and free toilets just 25 yards away – perhaps he was afraid they wouldn’t have seats. To add insult to injury his car was parked at the petrol pump whilst he drained the one eyed bed python, doesn’t give a dam about all those queuing. I’m not saying anything about the ethnicity / religion, that was pure chance.

Well it’s goodbye France yet again. 5 very relaxing weeks and good weather.

Now only yesterday I wrote to the Times defending our Border Agency. Today I encounter it.

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Drive up to the french border control at Calais, flash our passports. Don’t want to see them. Obviously glad to see the back of us whinging RoastBeefs. Then it’s the UK Border. Oh yes they want to see our passports; spend 3 minutes reading them – you’ll understand why they’re slow readers in a moment; ask to see my face, without my sunglasses – violation of my religious freedom there. But then we get the award winning question.

Now bear in mind my little SLK is clearly a 2 seater. No room behind the seats even for an ounce of heroin or a bottle of wine. So what does Einstein say to Wendy (the passenger)? “How many are there in the car?”. I felt like shouting out us two plus a family of 4 from Sangat down the road – fortunately I managed to exercise restraint. Obviously common sense and intelligence is not one of the key criteria for this job – worrying!

Check in to the Hilton at Folkestone. Lovely hotel and free breakfast. They also get the accolade of the fastest hotel wifi I’ve ever encountered. But, yes there’s always a but. They also get the VICTOR MELDREW 2013 AWARD FOR THE MOST DIABOLICAL WIFI LOGON. Yes’ I know that it’s only September but rest assured no one could beat this for stupidity.

Bear in mind that this place is in the middle of nowhere, so who’s going to pinch their bandwidth anyway. To logon you need to enter the longest password ever – gauzeballjellysandy – you’re welcome to it. You then have to enter an email address (twice to be on the safe side); full name; telephone number; user name which has to be unique, so it takes you ages to get one you’re happy with; the ubiquitous marketing box, untick a “send me crap for evermore”. Fortunately I could flush the toilet, turn on the lights and TV without having to enter a 19 character password. When will these numpties get a life.

Of course I couldn’t resist asking why it was so stupid. Oh it’s the law. What law? He didn’t really know. “The law is the law.” Probably the Digital Economy Act 2010, no doubt another piece of useless legislations, similar to the Data Protection Act, that our clowns in the big house fiddled and debated with whilst the economy went down the tubes. Well hopefully the law can email me “Mr Idont believe” at, or phone me on 12345678. If they were serious why didn’t they use the room number, at least they could then trace me.

Thursday – sunny.

Up for an early breakfast then do battle with the UK traffic. Again no major hold ups but so stressful. No chance of putting cruise control on and letting the butterflies float around my  head as I hog the middle lane.

What have I learnt during this little break:

1 Climate change is a real threat and caused by us homo sapiens – thanks to Chicago University course.

2 My French is as bad as ever.

3 Never to forget that “France is a lovely country spoilt by the French” – that’s what 5 weeks in France does for you.

4 Islam has only one end game, World Domination. The grand Caliph. They have no intention of integrating or co-existing with other religions / atheists. They offer only three choices; conversion to Islam; dhimmitude and pay jizya, there tax on infidels; or death. The politicians, loony left, liberal do gooders, PC brigade who are foaming at the mouth to have us all converted really need to understand that they are at war with us.

Blog signing off now until 1st of November – yes home for that long. How will I cope and manage my stored up rants.

20130914 – More Lazy Days

Saturday – rain, rain but at least its warm.

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Must be the first day since we’ve been here when it has seriously rained and kept us hunkered down.

Never mind a great opportunity to poke fun and tweak the censor on the Times who get quite uppity about my comments on the Burka. Well the college in Birmingham who had the guts to ban it and then dimmed out and withdrew their ban. My comments that they objected to were:

Wake up, smell the coffee before it’s too dam late. This religion of peace has only one end game and no wish to integrate. The dhimmi PC and multiculturalists are selling this country and this culture down the drain

I personally find it objectionable that anyone who wants to live and share the benefits of our society should want to wander around like an inverted black bin bag. Have they never heard of “when in Rome”? Do they not realise the antagonism it breads? However in the streets and open places I think it should be allowed, but in doors, just like smoking, it should be banned. As for being allowed to drive whilst looking through a post box slit, well that beggars belief.

Perhaps one day the NatWest and other banks might grow some balls and ban them, just like crash helmets. People should boycott any building or institution that does not have a policy that enforces being able to see a persons face. Or perhaps we should all invest in a bin bag and a pair of scissors and have a National Bin Bag day in protest.

I really have had enough of this multicultural pandering it’s almost enough to make you join the EDL!

Quite reasonable in my opinion. 

More French Arrogance Survival Techniques (FAST) 

HEALTH SERVICE – is rated the best in the world by the WHO. However, during a 2003 heat wave, the French health services failed to prevent the deaths of 16,300 elderly people. But can they really afford it? Employers have to pay social security taxes equal to 48 per cent of each employee’s salary, so they take on fewer people, and France’s unemployment rate has hovered around 10 per cent for a decade. Their country doesn’t work, milks the EU for all it can get and is another Greece in the making. Despite their excessive social infra-structure it’s taken them a thousand years to admit we’re better than them. “The standard of life of the British is higher than that of the French,” said M. le President Nicolas Sarkozy, in his 2006 autobiography.

SMOKING – yes it may well be banned inside but the French just see any ban as an open invitation to flagrantly abuse it. Getting into any building needs a grade 3 biological suite and breathing apparatus to avoid the smog issuing from those white satanic chimneys, hanging from their gobs and billowing enough smoke to hide a battle ship. The women are worse with their hairy armpits and fags hanging from under their moustaches.

LOSERS – They’re aggressive but when it comes to wars fought against France since 1066: 35. We’ve won 23; they’ve won 11. Mutual defeats: 1 (American War of Independence). Rugby 2013 09 18 14 03 49matches played by England against France since 1906: 89. We’ve won 47; they’ve won 35. Draws: 7. All useful statistics if in an argument.

Sunday – sun and cloud.

After a day of rain it’s back to normal.

Now I’ve been mocking the Burka and the PC brigade but whilst sat pondering the meaning of life and the meaning of the French sign on the back of the toilet door I had a sudden blinding flash of inspiration. You’re probably aware by now that the majority of caravanners are a sociable lot but there is always a few miserable clods who want to avoid any form of eye contact; can’t say hello; can’t smile; can’t give a friendly acknowledgement. Well the Burka would be ideal for them. Give them a black bin bag with a small slit in for the eyes and they could easily avoid any form of social contact and what’s more the rest of us could instantly recognise them as miserable clods and not waste time on them. Simples.

Dinner is Boeuf Burgenone down in Sangat and a smattering of wine (3 bottles I think) to help wash it all down. A pleasant evening had by all.

More French Arrogance Survival Techniques (FAST) 

NAPOLEON COMPLEX – While Napoleon was actually 5ft 6.5in tall, his aggression may have stemmed from “strikingly small, infantile and undersized genitals”, as revealed in his autopsy. The organ in question measured 1.25in. 

LOVE MAKING –  Another area they brag about. Everyone believes they’re great lovers. But when asked about Napoleon’s love-making, French good-time girl Marguerite Josephine Weimer remarked that the Duke of Wellington was “beaucoup le plus fort”.  Their legendary “Va Va Voom” is a lie. They only spend an average 19.2 minutes on foreplay. The British take 22.5 minutes. Today, just 23 per cent of French people are happy with their sex lives compared to 25 per cent of Brits. 23 per cent say they would be “relieved” not to have sex for several months. They make love on average 137 times a year; we only manage 119 times. So next time you indulge just think you’re dong your bit to redress the balance and stuff one to them.

DOGS – they love yappy dogs. More than nine per cent of French dog owners have a poodle. But they won’t clean up after them. French dog owners refuse to pick up the 5,840 tonnes of dog-doo dropped on their streets each year. Visit Thouars, dog shit capital of the Western World, but make sure you have some good climbing boots and crampons on to climb the mountains of dog shit on the streets.

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In Egypt Two Coptic Christian government employees have been shot dead for refusing to pay Jizya, the Muslim tax on Christians. Rev. Youannas Shawky, pastor of the Monastery of Our Lady and Saint Ebram in Delga, which was completely destroyed on July 3 by pro-Morsi supporters said the practice of collecting Jizya from Copts started after Morsi’s departure.

He said it continues to be levied on all Copts in the village without exception, pointing out that the value of the tribute and methods of payment vary from one place to another within the village.

The amount varies from 200-500 Egyptian pounds daily, which are exorbitant amounts to many villagers. Shawky estimated 50 families have left the village so far.

Yet another tax that could be coming to a town near you in the UK anytime soon.

Monday – sun and cloud.

The burka lunacy still trundles on back home. Just drives me to despair to read it. What lunacy has befall our green and pleasant land. Thankfully we’re not there most of the time so perhaps I should just stop reading the Times and definitely not read the Daily Mail. Perhaps theres a market for an innocuous newspaper, with no news likely to make blood boil.

More excitement in the afternoon as we drive up to Thouars for the weekly Lidl / Eleclerc jamboree. For me it’s a coffee allonge, some French word tests and a few Sudoku’s.

Fray Bentos Steak & Kidney pie for dinner. Mind you they’re not a patch on what they used to be, all gravy.

More French Arrogance Survival Techniques (FAST) 

CUSTOMER SERVICE – that’s two words they just don’t comprehend. They’re allergic to it. In London eateries, it takes an average 3.4 minutes to get a glass of water once a waiter has been alerted; in Paris it takes 17.9 minutes. The “Paris Syndrome” is a medically recognised type of depression which afflicts foreign visitors, caused by the sustained rudeness of French people to outsiders.

TOILETS – where to begin. Well thinking you’re in a 3rd World country is usually a good start. These range from a basic hole in the ground, even in posh Parisian restaurants. To automated loos. Toilet seat theft is endemic across the whole country, don’t expect one. Most toilets smell and are dirty. Many French men still prefer the convenience of a trotter (pavement) to the public WC, I suppose at least they smell better. Don’t expect any privacy. As you splash your clogs, some even allow you to look out the window and any roaming perverts to ogle your crown jewels.

FRENCH WOMEN – there’s a belief that French women don’t get fat. Current diet books claim that French women are thin because they eat only fresh produce, and slowly. However, French obesity rates are exploding and one in four French women is on some kind of mood-altering medication. Of course they’re not hungry – they’re stoned.

After my sarcastic EDL comments to The Times I thought it may be appropriate to investigate said EDL further. Started off listening to one of Pat Condells rants in favour of the EDL. One of my 2013 09 18 13 38 28 eroes and a superb ranter, puts old Victor to shame. Had a read of their Mission Statement and nothing there that seemed offensive, in fact all seemed very reasonable. Sadly no mention of the word “peaceful” nor “non-violent”. So lets get a balance view and here the other side of the argument, so watch the results of a Guardian inside investigation of the EDL. They are vile. Just pure vitriol and hatred, fowl language and violence, scrots and mindless football hooligans. Sad that our education system can produce that. Enough to make me join a Muslim march or make a donation to the Taliban preservation society. I want nothing to do with them we can defeat the Islamisation of this country without resorting to that.

Tuesday – cloudy.

Start to clean the caravan for a bit of excitement. Pussy foot is much better but still not up to walks or bike rides. Although I do think the antibiotics are addling her brain as she described me as “capable of using a French washing machine”.

Sorry no pictures again unless I start doing macro shots of pussy foot – disgusting – or soap suds, or before and after caravan cleaning, or perhaps them dam leafs that keep falling on my car and leaving a drown deposit that’s tougher than teflon. Whose idea was it to choose a white car? I don’t notice them cleaning the teflon off.

Looks like the gates are open at Sangat again, as them from there escape for a good bye drink, or two. Another good night and thanks for the can opener, perhaps now we can have a Fray Bentos Steak & Kidney pie without severing arteries trying to open it. Slow cooker is great, her indoors has been mythering about one for years.

More French Arrogance Survival Techniques (FAST) 

COOKING – better call it cuisine. They think their cooking is the best in the world. They boasted 26 three-starred restaurants in the 2005 Michelin Guide. However, the guide is a French institution. Could that be why the UK had only three? Coincidence, non?

 HYGEINE – they get up our noses in more ways than one. Forty per cent of French men, and 25 per cent of women, do not change their underwear daily – and only 47 per cent bathe every day (compared to 70 per cent of the British).zebra crossings.

GRATITUDE – the French word for gratitude is gratitude. Don’t ever expect to hear it used, you more chance of hearing a Taliban thanking the Americans for invading. They were bailed out in two World wars and yet you’ve more chance of seeing them smile than seeing a Union Jack or Stars and Stripes flying. German flags, no problem; EU flag no problem; skull and crossbones who knows. 

WHAT’S TO LIKE – a lot, a lovely country and a lot of historic old buildings. But sadly spoilt by the French.


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Well I’m always the first to take a pop at the lunacy of any religion, It offers such fertile opportunities and is an easy target, but I have to say how impressed this new Pope seems. It’s almost a breath of fresh air. Could almost make you believe perhaps there is a god and religion isn’t all bad. Here’s his latest antics 


Francis, in what has become his signature phrase, has declared that he wants a “poor church for the poor”. The first Jesuit Pope has said that it makes him feel bad when he sees clerics driving the latest model car. He recently arrived at a service in Rome in a Ford Fiesta, carrying his ceremonial Mitre head-dress in a canvas bag. This week he was given a 20-year-old Renault 4 with 300,000km on the clock as a new “Popemobile” by a priest who had been moved by his words.


Wednesday – warmish and cloudy.

The excitement mounts. All the silver surfers will be out in their droves pacing up and down their caravan pitches waiting for the down load to complete. Hmmm perhaps not, I think they’re all still in bed or munching on their low cholesterol croissants. Yes, it’s iOS7 release day. Well we are in France, not an inverted black bin liner to be seen, so apart from driving around with Rule Brittania blasting from the stereo, this is about as exciting as it gets.

Say final goodbyes to Dot and Barry as they depart for home.

More excitement as we decide to pop up to Chinon to try and get some caravan polish. Fat chance. The only caravan shop for miles around and they’ve got less on the shelves than you’d expect in a Taliban Christian bookstore. Enterprise. Forget it.

Call in at Richelieu on the way. Pleasant little town with picturesque square an old moated town. Coffee in the local pub. Town takes its name after Cardinal Richelieu famous French geezer and also in the 3 Muskateers. At least we get some pictures to brighten up the blog.

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France seems to be excelling these days at “Route Barre”. Road closed. Wherever you go you come across these and quite often seal off the whole of a town.

Fire off an email to the Mayor of Thouars asking why they are so ungrateful:

“We visit Thouars quite frequently and last year visited the excellent museum commemorating the resistance movement during World War 2. It was interesting to see the co-operation between our two countries during those dark days and the risks, bravery and sacrifices of both your and our countrymen took to defeat the common enemy and help free France. That’s why I was surprised and disappointed, both last year and this year, to note that on the roundabout approaching Thouars there was most European flags flying, including the German one (nothing wrong with the Germans, a lovely people, and thats all behind us), but alas the British Union Jack was conspicuous by it’s absence.

To me it seems very ungrateful and I can only wonder why the Union Jack was not present? It is flown in most towns around here. Perhaps I’m missing something, and there is something that has caused Thouars to have ill feeling towards the British?

I would be interested in your comments on this matter.”

Starting to get into the “Root Into Europe” spirit.