les Davey de France

Alan and Pat live and work in Bordeaux. Alan is a pastor and Pat was a nurse. Now we work with UFM worldwide. Read on! (If you'd like to know what took us to Bordeaux, then start with the archives from September 2004)

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Le "centre de recyclage" - la déchetterie...

La déchetterie is the dump. And it's one of those words that we say differently from Parisians and the poor benighted folk from the North. They'll say déchett'rie, but we say déchetterie, to the rhythm of the opening notes of Beethoven's Fifth. In fact the words "Beethoven's Fifth" have the rhythm of the opening notes of Beethoven's Fifth. Well, perhaps it's more to the rhythm of a good rat-a-tat-tat. Déchetterie. Rat-a-tat-tat.

But I digress.

In Bordeaux the déchetteries are managed by the Métropole - 28 towns who all work together to coordinate the public transport, the refuse collection and various other services that cover the whole of Bordeaux. And our déchetteries are great places.

Today I reserved the Peugeot Bipper Teepee and loaded it up with broken, worthless treasures and drove off to exit 14 of the rocade, to the Avenue Gutenberg déchetterie. See, even the name is cool.

When you arrive you have a kind of circuit to do with the car that takes you behind the dump to where there's a big, steep, metal ramp that goes up to an elevated platform. There you park your car by the top of your chosen skip, or dumpster, depending on whether you have brought garden waste (déchets verts), stuff to burn (combustibles), word or wood derivatives (bois), metals (métaux) or cardboard boxes folded flat (cartons à plat) . I had combustibles, wood and metals, plus a couple of cardboard boxes.

The cardboard boxes skip has a lid that is opened just a slit so that you can only get a box in if it's folded flat. Neat! Launching an old, decrepit, chipboard bookcase into a skip from above is a rare pleasure.

Once you have cast your waste into the depths of the abyss you drive your car down a really steep metal ramp to get back down to road level.

All in all it was a fine experience.

Except for the screens.
The lady said "We don't take them."
I looked at her.
"You have to take them two doors down".

I knew the place. Off I went with the screens.
Two fine loads to the dump, take Pat to her osteopath, then sweep out the car and return it to Pessac Centre.

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