Meeting at the Maire

Time for the annual MJC chat with the mayor.

The artists hereabouts will now know that we have been
shifted from our Saturday morning slot to Monday
morning - which disruption is as nothing compared to that of
the other groups.

The mayor, as we know, is anxious to close the MJC. (see
postings passim) It comes out of his budget, there are legal
entailment's and its all about culture, about which he cares not
one jot.

He can't close it while there are numbers of people in the
commune who use it.

But there are things he can do. The first is to compress us.
Accordingly he has closed the Espace Louis Alibert, saying
it was too cold (This was because he had had the heating
switched off) Once that was closed all the activities had to
happen in the Centre Culturel which is why everyone is
double booked.

Everyone wants the space they've always had with the right
equipment, no-one wants change, hes expecting internal
dissent; instead of which the groups are shuffling about trying
to help one another.

So Ha! -to him in round one. But he'll be back.

I was very impressed at his technique last night. Obviously
the question, so why have you shut off the heating at Louis
Alibert was asked; his response was 'I have complete
confidence in J-C O', his adjunct. At this point everyone jumps
up saying of course this is not in question. Then the question
isn't answered.

This happened a few times. Brilliant.

He's clearly had training since last years meeting and, of course,
since his team tried to get rid of him.

lunching ladies

Celebrated the end of winter with a ladies lunch chez moi; Kat
and Yvonne here matching the furniture with Charlotte and
Louise in attendance. Last time it was my turn the food was
hideously, possibly dangerously, undercooked. This time I
steamed a steak pudding for many hours and it was not raw.

Lou has gone off till the end of the month, having holidays.
The rest of us soldier on.

google maps

In an Homeric voyage, the Captain finally escaped me and achieved
merry London. Here are Pete and Andy looking up his house on
Google maps - theres a little bar on the Google page that has the
word Maps and you press that and then an address and they'll
show you a photo and the road and the rest.
They blank out the faces of the people hanging about but in Tillings
region we spotted a couple of friends.

Thanks are due to Vivienne whose persistent telephoning uncovered
the fact that a navette would take the canceled flight to Perpignon;
to Pete, for the two trips to Carcassonne; to Andy and Louise for
being such fun last night when I was about to be miserably lonely.

news from Manilla and Carcassonne airport

Tilling Market - the hub of the aude - didn't really happen this
morning. But aficionados will be pleased to see that Frenchmen
still wear shorts showing the spirit is not quite dead.

Captain has gone to the airport once this morning, turned
around and come home to Tilling.
Just left for the airport again - now it seems that Ryan Air are
busing folk to Perpignan.
The weather is lovely in Tilling, the music of melting snow in
warm bright sunshine tinkles in the scented air... but
Carcassonne airport is closed, lala.


News from Peter R in Manila containing helpful advice;

"... walking around Marhalika, a notoriously seedy part of
Baguio City, I'd been advised earlier by Mariel not to leave my
Philips media player with the, err, seedy-looking lads in the one
of the ramshackle cell-phone repair booths in the covered
market who said they'd download the firmware I needed to
unscrew the fix I'd got my gadget into by trying to eliminate a
virus (but there was something else going on, I know, in my
subconscious). And the story happened almost exactly as I'd
unknowingly written it.
I got mugged.

It was done in an instant. I felt a strange nudge, a spike of alarm
and dashed my hand to the pouch that held my Sony Ericcson
camera phone fastened to my Girbaud leather belt. Don't have a
wrist-strap hanging free and handy for an opportunist snatch
unless you wanted your phone pick-pouchèd. Which I must have
done 'cos I was robbed - "Hey! What the ...bugger! my phone's
gone!"

Pregnant silence.
Immediately, everyone around me in the busy street scene knew
what had happened. You could have heard an angel fart.

I might as well have highlighted "camera phone bought four
years ago with considerable sentimental value and lots of data,
such as contacts and saved messages which I wouldn't want lost"
and hit the delete key. Gone!

I could have laughed. But that would have seemed unseemly.
It was more appropriate to make the right sort of regretful noises
to oneself and kick one's bottom for being a silly billy. But I
couldn't manage that. I tried. I tried to imagine (Huh!) how I
would lament, on my deathbed, not having taken better care of
my Sony Ericcson mobile phone what I bought on Jamie's advice
(teenagers know best) in that enormous Dixons-type store near
Carcassonne airport - what's its name?

Anyway, straightway, I took a taxi to the supermall and bought
myself the new 32GB, Apple iPhone. I was gonna have to replace
the media player (as I said) and was dithering over getting the
iPod Touch but (agonising over this and that) it ain't got no still
or video camera and, of course, it's not a phone ...

So, thank you, thief! You made my mind up for me. And I get my
own back on the slings and arrows of living in such an outrageous
place as the Philippines. Revenge is sweet. And so is the
user-interface, the lovely touchy-feely screen and the glossy heft
of this cool gadget.

Buy one for your inner boy and live a little before you die.
I know that at over 49,000 pesos it was not a steal but that, listen,
is the whole point. If you don't get it, don't matter.

We, who have now more money than time (remember when
we planned for the future and scrimped and saved for all the
loved ones who had calls on our small wealth - when we had
more time than money?). Well, now we have more money than
time and no one we need to leave it to - let them make their
own way like we did.

Please, buy something totally extravagant for just you, just for
fun, for once in your life, in Christ's name. Amen. I've now got
my eye on the new 15 inch MacBook, of course, for when I get
my pension at the end of the month. That should see me out."

In the nick of time

Roy and Jo hosted a dinner of Indian food to a very appreciative
group of Tillingites who were suffering from cabin fever...
a couple walked to the dinner from Rouvenac (said it was a lovely
walk) Limited photos because I was a. ratarsed and b. without my
glasses. Terrific evening - bless you guys!

Boring boring

Dull stuff snow...


























Claudio and Sandra,
(def not dull)
seen here after
breakfast, plus Willa
are expecting to get
the TGV to Zurich;
Bob is expecting a plane
to London.

Bets, anyone?

News from elsewhere

Shuff has written;

"Snowing like the clappers here in Amsterdam.

We moved offices just before xmas – missing the artic weather
by hours.Am now on the 8’th floor in our new ‘designer’ space –
observing complete white-out outside and wondering if, at l
east, the handlebars of my bicycle will still be exposed when
I go to pick it up."

Frank writes from his new place in Bexhill:

"We are with about three inches of snow here but our
central heating is working well
Love to all in Esperaza
Frank and Lizxx"

Peter Tyler writes also but in a different vein:

Vera and I have just about realised that we are in Colombia
after several hitches on the way; the first being on our arrival
at Birmingham airport, the second on reaching our first
night´s hotel and the third on being told that our second hotel
booking had not been received. Oh such are the joys of
careful planning; in Colombia it is evidently the norm and they
do say that by tomorrow today´s problems will be over.
I can´t argue with that!

Today we relaxed knowing that we are settled for at least four
more nights here in Taganga, a glorious little sandy fishing
village nestling in a cove of the Caribbean backed by the jungled
foothills at the end of the Andes massive range."

Doesn't mention the snow there, odd.

The fact I'm doing my post and cutting and pasting other people
letters shows that I'm housebound and at something of a loose
end. Studio is whited out with snow on the skylights.
Bob is threatening to walk to Toulouse and stay in an hotel
until the airport reopens.