les Davey de France

This week in Bordeaux saw the 1000th lifting of the Chaban-Delmas Bridge. The Chaban-Delmas Bridge is named after one of Bordeaux' former mayors, a resistant during the Second World War and a man already honoured by an enormous statue in the town hall square. The bridge is the largest lifting bridge in Europe and raises and lowers to admit ocean liners and tall ships into the heart of the city. Ocean liners have been a matter of debate in the city for a while. They are very big indeed, towering over the already imposing buildings on the quays. They come into the heart of the city and moor at the bottom of the Place des Quinconces, the huge ceremonial square where two main tram lines cross. Tourists gain immediate access to the shops, cafés, restaurants, parks and museums of the city without having to take transport to and from their ship. However their presence causes congestion on the quays. Pat and I ride along the quays to the cafe most days, and when ships are in, sometimes two

Alongside our block of flats runs a one-way road, and alongside that, the tramlines - Tram C, to Villenave. After that is a rendered wall, embellished with art by some school children some years ago. The wall borders what I always thought was a drainage channel, set there to channel any possible flood waters.  I was wrong. Between those walls, channeled alongside the tram rails, within view of our balcony and far better seen from the roof garden, beloved of ducks (we see them fly over and hear their stand-up comedy sessions) - runs the River Ars.  

 We belong to a book group 'for busy people', which means we meet only three or four times a year. Next week we should have read Wuthering Heights. I haven't. It's a thoroughly nasty book. I found some Spark notes and a family tree, and I've read selected lowlights, and that's quite enough for me.

Some months ago I called in at some of Bordeaux' bike shops to ask about getting my bike serviced. It's never had a good seeing to, though I do clean, oil and adjust it as I can. One smart place said, "Sixty quid, mate, and there's a five months waiting list. You book your place and we call you when we can do it." Another place, smaller and less classy, but stuffed with elegant bikes said, "There's not much to do on them. Twenty quid. Drop it in any time. To be honest with you, if you keep it clean it'll be fine. But have you thought of trading it in?" I hadn't. But now I did. Well, long story short, as they say, after much reflection, discussion, a little research and not a little thought, I called in. "The boss is at lunch." I chatted with his apprentice. "If I change my bike it has to be the perfect one. It needs this, this, this and this. Does that bike even exist?" He assured me that it did. The things I wanted were s

Well yesterday was one of those crawling up hill on your hands and knees sort of days. It was raining, so we decided to go to the cafe by tram. There was a tram accident so we had to go by bus and foot. (this did take us right by one of the best bakers in Bordeaux, so we bought delicious rolls and fid tarts for lunch) The coffee machine would not be reassembled - it will probably have to be sent off to be fixed. We had one client all day. One.  Pat had a hospital appointment, but had left her documents at home, so she had to go home to get them. Our GP has been encouraging her to have a minor op, but she accepted instead to have a steroid injection under ultrasound direction. The GP won't be impressed. (Our client said that they'd had one of those, and it was no use at all "ça ne sert à rien") Returning home from the café, the tram had an electrical fault, so we had to walk half way home to take the section that was working. Monday's batch of chutney, however, pro

In one of the university buildings in Bordeaux is a hidden chapel, generally disused but kept in good repair. We went there once for a lunchtime concert, and it was a very fine experience. Recently I saw that the chapel was to be open for a show of son et lumière. This is a combination of projected images, typically on the walls and ceiling of the building but sometimes also on the floor, combined with music, either recorded or live. We have a permanent show at the old Nazi submarine base, and a wonderful show was recently put on at the Cathedral with a live orchestra. I can't remember why we didn't go - timing, perhaps - but we heard good reports of it. So I pre-registered to be able to buy tickets for this new show in the chapel. Then came the day to book, and the title was announced. Genesis - origins. I was torn. Doubtless the show would be impressive - I imagined the darkness, the stars, the coalition of the cosmic dust, the primeval soup, the lights, the music. But what w