French break

 

Burlington Diary July/August 2007

Weds.01.08.07. We have just returned from our massive French break with many minor adventures to relate.

I returned triumphantly to Tarascon with an exhaust pipe and all the relevant seals and membranes to make good the dripping fuel tap for my damaged motorcycle. I was accompanied by Vinnie and Linda Kirk, who will be staying as house guests for the next fortnight, I looked forward to some necessary R and R after the hectic 10 days juggling the Burlington project whilst securing the parts for the bike.  Jo having remained at the house whilst I was back in the UK had been cleaning and polishing the terracuit on the balcony finally rectifying the last ‘fuck up’ from “the robbing bastard Mikey” so she was also in the mood for some downtime. The first session around the table set the standard for the following two weeks: too much wine, not enough food, too many late nights.After a pleasant stay our friends returned home whilst Jo and I planned our re-visit to South Burgundy.

Coincidently our American friends in Tarascon, Bill and Sandra Payne yearn for pastures new, so we able to approach the adventure sharing common ground feeling even more justification for bailing out. With like minds we felt the town, regrettably but inevitably steeped in ‘demain french’ mentality, was always going to tread the path of ‘3 forward and 2 back’, even though we had both given this crumbling, grubby misfit of Provence a real shot it was time to seriously consider our real future. The kindest opinion that we both shared was Bills suggestion that he didn’t always feel that he was actually in a French town, that to him this was powering the move.

Jo and I travelled to Burgundy with great expectations of finding paradise, after much driving, searching and meetings with a variety of immobilier we settled for one of the very first places we had viewed earlier on our quest. The bid is in; we await conformation of the “Compris de Vente”. We know that with this property we shall be able create a proper family home for our immediate flesh and blood. I apologise, for this apparent diversion from the Burlington project but it does have some significance.

This is the place where the Burlington SS rested on the first Beaujolais Run in 1982, this has been the inspiration for the troubles and toil of the rebuild, it is so fitting that the car should enjoy the remainder of it’s life surrounded by wonderful manicured scenery, very pleasant, proud cultured people, good warm bodied wines and lugubrious, gentle Charolais cows dosing in the lush grass of Sud Bourgoyne. The car will match the colour of this rich landscape finding the curving undulating roads mildly challenging but always pleasurable. This is the true home for the car, not the dusty, arid, hectic impatient shithole Midi.

When the transactions had taken place we were soon travelling the 450 miles north to Calais crossing the Channel to Dover, then onto London to stay with our precious, pregnant daughter. After two peaceful days we were back to pick up the challenge of actually building the car but to also build up on the interest in the Nouveau trip. Whilst in Buxy I had firmed up the details of the run with Katinka, of the Office de tourisme, who promised to contact the co-operative cave to arrange for the 16 guests to have the celebration dinner on the evening of November 15^th and reserve the relevant amount of rooms at the local Logis, Le Relais Montagny. She did reply but it was not good news. The Co-operative is not having a dinner because they are not exactly in the Beaujolais region. What! I have based the entire trip around Buxy and they are NOT having a dinner. Mon bloody dieu, sacre friggin’ bleu! the event is torpedoed before it has started.