Pizza again, everything is shut!

17th August 2007
Doom & gloom, we got up with high spirits with exploring the city in mind, we took the computer so that we could check for e mails & post my blog at the closed restaurant with wi fi, felt like a vagrant sitting there getting a freebie connection.

Off to the old part of town to see the Cathedral & Chateaux, lets start with thecathedral, some pompous jobs worth was on us like a fly, you can’t bring your dog (Sammy) in here, bearing in mind that Sammy is a regular church goer & active fund raiser। Mary Ann without a E pointed out that we were all Gods creatures, they even had a Nativity display crawling with animals। Anyway we left the sanctimonious assholes arranging ठ flowers & getting into Gods good book।

On to the Chateaux, “no dogs” said another jobs worth with a secret service ear piece, well fuck your shitty castle then. We decided to do a little shopping, forget it, we didn’t see a shop to start with let alone one that was open, not even a SPAR, the only places open were ethnic places which is fine if you want a kebab at 10.39 am, so to sum it up, like CAHORS on the last trip just forget it, only the French could effectively close down a city with a tourist information centre down for Summer during the peak season.

Oh well we’ll have a walk around the botanical gardens, it was really a municipal garden well stocked with interesting bedding plants like pansies, they had the cheek to clearly label them like they would at HM Wisley Gardens, I bent down to read one of the pompous signs, “Oh its a geranium Mary Ann!”, it was all too much।

So we went to the French war memorial, you know where this is going don’t ya? They have a lot of these memorials, for all the wars that they’ve lost or run away from. This is country where Napoleon who was personally responsible for the deaths of millions for no real reason other than an ego trip is a hero. They lost a fair amount during the first world war to be fair but I just had to laugh about 1939 – 1945 section, there were about seven names on the roll of honour & they were no doubt killed in a freak tram accident. Anyway Nantes for Nonce’s, up ya bum,we won’t be back.

We are at the finishing post, we have to clean the boat & will spend the night on board, we have the car back so maybe I can drive somewhere for some tasty food tonight। Tomorrow we’ll be, hopefully, able to have a decent shower & a comfortable poo। As I write this we have a gang of “can break a mans arm” swans floating around outside the door hissing at Sam, MA wants a piccie of her feeding them, better look after my arms।

18th August 2007
Truly happy at last! No I haven’t met a Swedish or Thai live-in help, can’t spell aupair. We arrived in another "godforsakenvillagefromhellwithfuckalltodo", but its not, its wild, like Scotland, not only a real village nicely laid out without a trendy local Mayor with traffic calming systems from the Blair Socialist Daily Post. This is the “mutts nuts”, nicely laid out local stalls full of local produce, a butcher, a baker blah etc. Two 4 star hotels, a Donegals oirish bar with Beamish, count me in lads, restaurants & a tidal river, its pissing with rain but who cares? I love it like I love Scotterlandia, if it’s raining some how it doesn’t seem to piss you off coz of its shear moodiness. This is a trendy “log cabin”, the woman must be an interior designer, its all drift wood & shells, spacious (2) bathrooms, walk in double shower, well equipped kitchen, three gorgeous bedrooms, a Flat screen TV with DVD player, TENNIS F~~~~~~ing court!!! Its clay though & I’m strictly a grass man. A canoe, a boat with an engine, a windsurfer for advanced windsurfers, lucky that, I’d have been well pissed off it had of been for novices, I’d have had to have complained.

I’m on the laptop looking out at a vast tidal river, I’ve seen just one water skier. I can’t see one single house, just a bridge in the distance carrying the sad commuting classes of this world, its about 2 miles away & even though we can’t hear it will be an added attraction when the sun goes down and we are looking at the tail lights through the evening sea mist. It must be a mile wide at this point of the river. Does anyone know how to read tidal charts? I’m going out but I want to come back, answers on a postcard to .....

The gaff is in twelve, yes twelve acres of forest, fruit trees & garden with enough timber decking to keep what’s his name Titmarsh happy.

Tonight MA is having a Dorada, that’s a Guilt headed Bream to you lot unless you’re Spanish or a Frog or live in Spain, I decided to make a hellishly hot Chilli con carne, so hot it’s gonna hurt, we will both be having this with chips tonight. One little thing that has been looked over is that although the fridge is enormous it doesn’t have a freezing top compartment, so no vodka & grapefruit then. Can’t have it all.

MA who was depressed a moment ago has just returned from a walk along the river bank with the dirty shitting dogs, she has just shown me some oyster shells & seaweed that she has collected; does she want me to create something with them? Should I just humour her & say “very well done”. She is now slagging the joint off, dismantling it as I type!

Oh yeah, forgot to say, it scary though, “Blair Witch”,” Hills Have Eyes” territory, I hadn’t thought of it until MA brought it up just then, I’ve just turned the computer on to tell you, if you don’t hear from us you’ll know what happened, if they find the laptop that is. I was reading the info/welcome book & it explained what to do if the power went off, imagine it & then make it double bubble. I tried to follow the instructions that she had kindly left for us, you’ve seen “Friday 13th” right? The scene, all scenes in fact where you are thinking “As if they’d do that!” & “As if they’d go into that scary wood shed where that massive axe is stuck in a baby dolls skull”. Well that’s us I’m afraid. I checked out the trip switch which is further from us than the one in San Jose, Ibiza, its a mountain/orienteering climb through the forest & saplings, with a torch if its dark, which, lets face it, it always is dark in the horror movies, about 1km. Don’t worry we’ve seen the film, I’ll be in the corner of a darkened room with no windows to my side or rear, with the bitches & Sam, just waiting with my Global 18 inch cooks knife until the sun comes up. So don’t worry, its all sorted. Fail to prepare is better than preparing to fail!!! Just knock first if you are planning to drop by.

19th August 2007
It’s no use pretending, it’s been pissing down here, still love it though। We had our meal last night, Slack got tired & went to bed early, I was going to watch Syriana, a video with Matt Damon & Gorgeous George Clooney in. I didn’t, I rolled a spliff & listened to Suzanne Vega, who else loves her? I bet she’s a vegan in real life but I’ve always kind of fantasized her as been a bit of a hot chick in the squat/commune/New York loft mould, probably wrong. Most likely got a mortgage & 2 kids living in suburbia. Anyway Ol Slacky got to bed but not in it, she was on top of it so I went into another bedroom with Blossom & Lucy who I’d had to carry up because of the steep, shiny wooden stairs, they slept in my room. I had a very peaceful night but awoke early & did my usual trick of laying there reading a book on Hugh Fearnley Whittingstalls early articles for Mags & Rags etc. I expected Slack to come in with tea & toast. She didn’t. I made my own. Maybe I should have rolled her over & got into bed with her last night?

Anyway, after Lucy in the sky of diamonds, the mad fucker, had spectacularly thrown herself down the stairs, I thought she was dead, I took the family to town. To be continued... the timer is on & the roast chicken is done, time to throw the spuds in.

Back! We walked around the town, booked dinner for two nights, I just know that they are going to be nice venues, even though its drizzling you can just tell. Just about everything was open, it’s a complete town....... except!!!! After a short walk down the estuary I guided us into the much anticipated “Donegal’s”, the seemingly Irish Pub. I’d imagined it was going to be one of those theme pubs with rakes & jugs & crap festooned everywhere, you know the type? Wrong. Even though it quite clearly states & displays a very prominent sign outside, it didn’t have Beamish, there was fuck all Irish about it except for the bare light bulbs & spit & saw dust, “bog Irish” sprang to mind. Maybe it was too authentic for its own good. They had a can of Guinness, but not one of those with the widget inside that makes it taste like draught Guinness. So rather than back out I ordered it, the biggest glass they had was approx half a pint, gay bastards or what? "And a port & lemon for the missus squire". That’s it for me, if I win the lottery it won’t be here that I’m buying, there’s always something. Never mind I’m about to carve my black footed Bretagne Chicken, it’s a little small, I wonder if it’s going to taste better than a South east of England chicken, of course not.

21st August 2007
It’s gone a little tits up since my last update, it turns out that MA was serious when she started slagging off the joint, she just hates it here where as I could live here quite happily one my own for a week & detox with my colonic gadget, it’s the weather I guess which to be honest has been sensationally shit, I’m still OK with it though as I explained earlier.

We’ve tried a few aborted attempts to check out the local talent & attractions, you’ve been to Wales?

It ends with a screeching fit between us, me buying a kilo of Whelks, MA going to bed for the early part of the afternoon, me bolting my Whelks & also going to bed to read. I’ve just caught up on a load of Telegraph’s, Time & Guardians plus the supplements that I simply didn’t have time to do whilst I was intrepidly navigating the boat. I’m sweet to tell the truth.

Last night Slacky went to bed & left me with two succulent duck breasts & some chips cooked in duck fat, fanfuckingtastic. I polished off a relatively OK bottle of Fleurie, usually FAB & watched a Kevin Spacey film called K-PACK, someone must have spiked my duck breast with an E as it was just great, weird!

Today was supposed to be partly cloudy. It was grey with scattered hurricanes; we/I decided to go out to lunch instead of the planned meal in the hotel this evening.

It’s now a fallacy about not being able to get a bad meal in France, they must have been resting on thier laurels over the last 20 years or so, I’ve yet to be truly happy in a French restaurant this trip, give me the UK any day. We are cosmopolitan & open to outside flavours where as the frogs in this area (they are the same in all regions & the Italians) are so insular), I get the impression that they wouldn’t know a good meal it slapped them around the face. Today’s was the icing on the cake; the place was filled to the gunnels with locals at prices that were criminal. I know I slag off Ibiza, its very expensive compared to the mainland but compared this crumby hole its like eating at the “FAT DUCK”. In Ibiza you can have a “Menu del Dia” with three courses i.e. a bottle of wine & a bottle of lemonade to mask the taste or a beer, water etc. A choice of starters, a choice of main course, a choice of dessert, olives & alioli all for the sum of as little as 9 euros per head.

We sat down & waited for 40 minutes for the starter, in this time the locals who arrived after us had eaten both courses & were actually leaving, true to arsey Steve's form I asked for the bill. Just then the frozen scallops & snails arrived; I’d been to the supermarket earlier in the day for light entertainment & bought a dozen frozen snails in their shells with garlic butter & parsley for 2.50 euros. Well you couldn’t fuck that up could you? although it looked like someone had shit on the plate.

For second course MA had ordered something called Bavette from Ireland, I ordered the trusty Steak with a pepper sauce, very fatty but rare as I’d asked, MA’s must have been a new composition invented for industrial use, tyres for a moon buggy on Mercury perhaps?. MA sent it back & that was it really as nothing came back, not even an apology, of course it was all my fault as I happily chomped through mine insisting that MA should help herself to a few of my chips though not too many!
MA complained & they deducted her meal from the bill, she was more upset that she’d not really eaten...... We got back, I read some more & disappeared upstairs for my daily kip, MA made duck sandwiches’! How very original, like a lobster sandwich. She downed going on a bottle of red wine which brings us back up to speed. Of course she’s not hungry now. I have made an extremely “American hot” pizza.

Tonight we intend the watch “Last king of Scotland”, I watched it on the way to Shanghai, but what hell I have to show some willingness to cheer ol’ slacky up.

Maybe tomorrow will be better, I’m actually looking forward to MA’s finger nail appointment in Brest on Thursday, about 2 hrs away! I got a little too excited today as I thought it was for tomorrow. Ibiza, my little house & pool, salad garden etc are starting to seem very attractive, you just don’t know what you’ve got until you’ve lost it? Well I still have it & I’m going to be pleased getting back into my bed with its orthopaedic mattress, air con or not.

23rd August 2007
One more gripe, MA has just discovered how much I have been paying for the Anglais newspapers, approx 30 percent more but a day older than you get on Ibiza. How can this be with modern day technology? I know why. They hate us! You can buy all the Arab newspapers, I checked. The Terrorist Times, The Al Qaeda Weekly with helpful tips on mustard gas & roadside bombs. Why not the English papers. I needed to know how Becks was doing against the Krauts last night.

PS। Don’t visit Brest for the day, it’s like Portsmouth or worse.