What the Scrap Thieves Do

I went into my garage last night and gazed at in despair. I suppose I should have taken a photo to show before and after but I didn't. I won't share my shame with you. I can't even blame it on the boys either, much though I'd like to.

I went in again this morning and challenged it to a dual. Off I went to Castorama to buy shelves and boxes. They were having a promotion of boxes so I bought nine, with lids, and a set of sturdy shelves. Not being one to hang about, I started immediately I got home, set up the shelves and found, to my dismay that the boxes didn't really fit on them. They were exactly the same height. Bugger.

Then I went through my stuff and sorted out what I wanted to take to the dump, loaded up the car, put in 6 of the 9 boxes and went off. At the dump, I saw the guy in charge and asked him about the thieving that was going on. He said it was rife everywhere, up and down the country. Travellers and gypsies are the main culprits surprise surprise...

They are utterly determined to get in and steal primarily metal which they then sell to scrap dealers. In an attempt to clamp down somewhat, they can no longer be paid in cash apparently, but have to accept a cheque, which means they need a bank account, and, I suppose, exposes them potentially to the fisc... Dump man also said that there were still scrap dealers who just ignored the rule, and continued to pay in cash.

Not only do they steal metal, but they also now break into the office and nick the coffee machine and anything else they can get their hands on. If they can't get in through the door, they break a window, or go round the back. This annoys the dump man more than anything as he has to replace the coffee machine.

The most extraordinary act of thieving though, has to be the kids sent into the clothing containers. France doesn't have such a proliferation of charity shops in towns as there is in the UK. Basically you can take stuff to a Croix Rouge office or put in one of the clothing containers that lurk in dumps and a number of supermarket carparks. They also accept toys, material and shoes. I put a lot of the boys' old clothes and toys in there.

The clothes bin looks a bit like this

The containers are owned by a company in Beaucaire, between Avignon and Nimes which recycles the clothes, sells them on and thus employs a number of people. What the thieving gypsies do is send a child into the container to post out the items. Sometimes, the child gets stuck inside. When this happens, the gypsies ring the company who have to come out all the way from Beaucaire 90 mins away to open up the container and let the child out. I don't know if they manage to recover the clothes at the same time though...

I was going to put two bags of toys and clothes into the container today, but it had been vandalised and forced open with everything nicked. Dump man said that the company is less and less keen to keep coming to repair the containers because every time they do, the containers are vandalised again and everything is stolen. As it costs money to provide, repair and collect from the containers, if there is nothing in them when you get there, it's rather pointless going to all the trouble. It'll come to the point where the company goes bust, and removes all the containers.

It would be much more enterprising of the gypsies if they set up their own recycling business. They obviously have contacts and a network. All it needs is a little organisation and a legitimate business and they wouldn't have to lurk about parasitically stealing from people trying to earn an honest wage. Maybe being part of a parasitic parallel economy is what they enjoy doing best though...

I went back to Casto this afternoon to swap the big boxes for slightly smaller ones. They aren't as high so will fit on my shelves perfectly. All I have to do now is fill them. This morning I found a couple of blouses that belonged to my granny (vintage!) and a long linen petticoat with little blue bows. I suppose I should put stuff like that on EBay. I'm definitely not risking putting them in the gypsy skip. There's all my teddies too, my university scarf, primary school scarf and a shirt from the last day of my sixth form. My granny had knitted some little tank tops and trousers for my teddies - how can you get rid of stuff like that?!

Thieving Rubbish

What do you like doing on a Sunday morning? Lying in? Having a late brunch? Getting up early and dashing off to do something sporty and healthy? I like lying in and I also like a nice little visit to the local dump. I have collected an awful lot of crap over the years and bit by bits 'n' bobs I'm chucking it out, gripped by the 'if I haven't used this for 10 years it must be rubbish' bug.

I suppose I could take it all and try to sell it at the flea market, but I loathe doing that, having people poring over my stuff looking at it with disdain or trying to steal it (very prevalent at our local big puce). It takes up a full Sunday morning that I'll never get back. No, rather send it off to be recycled even if it means I miss out on earning a tawdry €5 for it all.

Every day on my way to work I pass a dump (déchetterie, in French). It's not my dump because I do not live in the agglomeration - I take my rubbish elsewhere, not far away, but not on my way to work. So I just have an academic interest in the one I pass, especially as you need a card from the mairie to be able to use it (theoretically).Well, don't tell anyone but once I dumped an old bike outside the gates on a Sunday and within half an hour it had vanished...

Sturdy new fence

This déchetterie attracts a lot of attention. It closes between noon and 2pm but it's by no means left alone. Not long after it first opened, the fencing around it was damaged next to the main gate so that grotty white van man could sneak in and search for treasure. I'd go past and see chunks of metal being hurled around, or ominous noises of thumps and bangs, and the occasional head pop out of a container.

Then the fencing was repaired with some much sturdier protection. This did not go down well with the free-loaders, not one little bit.

Bent bars plus 2 new thick ones next to chain

Not long after, I went passed and I noticed that some of the gate bars had been prised back, as though superman had used his mega strength to escape from prison. Someone must have taken a piece of machinery to it because the gates are made of strong metal bars. Such determination and dedication! If only they could apply such traits to legitimate work.

I'm beginning to wonder what treasures can be found there that these people go to such trouble to break their way in. I must ask my own déchetterie guy next time I go.

This week the gates were repaired, the metal bars bent back into place plus two new thicker ones to replace the ones irrevocably vandalised, but there's no stopping these guys.

New hole in fence

Another panel of fencing has been removed and access is as free and easy as it was before. I should think the maintenance guys of the agglomeration are getting a wee bit fed up with all this wanton destruction and thieving, and we'll be seeing cctv cameras go up next to catch the ones taking the choicest scraps.

I suppose it goes on at all déchetteries - the one I go to normally has a beaten down bit of fence - but this one is on a busy main road so it attracts attention.

This month my mission is to really clear out the garage and put everything away in nice tidy boxes. I will be making many visits to the déchetterie, I'm sure although I'll never be able to get my car in the garage. It's such a small space really - too small to house an expensive car, but perfect for bikes and accumulated rubbish. No wonder some people give up and just turn it into another room. Where do they put their rubbish though?

Fait Divers

This is an odds and sods post rounding up bits and bobs that aren't worth a post on their own.

**New neighbours**
We have some unwanted new neighbours down the road at work. A bunch of travellers with their state-of-the-art caravans, brand new cars and vans pulled into a field opposite a lycée and have been camped there ever since. They arrived on Monday during the night. On Wednesday morning, a girl at work who lives locally came in with the news that all the Peugeots in her block of flats, in the garage, had been broken into and parts removed, including from hers. What an amazing coincidence...

I've taken to checking locks and windows and parking my non-Peugeot right up against the garage so no one can get in that way. The gendarmes were surveying the camp in a helicopter the other day, but for the moment, the group is still there. Hopefully they won't stay for long... I was thinking they had no water supply but I saw one today hosing down his car... they could be there for weeks *sigh*.

**LittleSod neighbour**
On Sunday we were due to go for a picnic to the Pont d'Issensac where the boys can jump into the river from the river bank rock cliffs. Then I had to postpone it to Monday because my eldest had something more interesting to do hanging out with some friends he only sees every day at school...

On Sunday morning he gets a call from LittleSod who thinks we are all going out on the picnic still, asking him to leave a key under the mat so he can come in during the day and play on the XBox. Now, I don't know what you think, but what sort of child (and a child who is banned from my house) believes it's legitimate to ask such a thing? Not only did he ask, but when my son said no, he harangued and harassed him until he lied and said yes.

In the end he didn't come round, but I was shocked that he thought it was a) an acceptable thing to do; b) acceptable to ask and then harass when refused. His parents never punish him and refuse him nothing, which could have a lot to do with his warped view on how the world works. 

**Phew!**
I participated in my eldest's Conseil de Classe on Wednesday where the head, teachers, representatives of the 2 parent's associations and 2 class delegates decided on the fate of the pupils - will they be approved to go on to lycée (or wherever) or be condemned to redouble? I was able to participate not because I'm a member of a parent's association but because I was standing in for an absent one.

This was lucky because I was keen to plead my eldest's cause should it come to it... He has been a lazy bugger this year and I was somewhat nervous as to the verdict. Luckily, the fact that he is bright but lazy has not passed un-noticed, and he was given an approval to proceed. What also helped was that I put him in for the classe européenne next year and had to provide mark sheets for last year where he did much better in maths. His maths teacher saw these and realised even more that this year's results were not due to a lack of brain but a lack of work. She came up to me afterwards and asked me what the English is for 'un feignant' - lazy bugger, said I (although it's not terribly polite...).

The history teacher came up to me and said that my son had duped her into believing that he understood nothing and was totally uninterested all year. Then just last week he produced a brilliant piece of work that showed understanding by bringing in information studied over a number of lessons, a clear grasp of the facts and an excellent analysis.

All he has to do now is pass the Brevet...

**Rubbish!**
In a spectacular own goal, the big recycling bins of the lotissement where I live have been screwed down leaving a couple of brush-covered letter-size holes through which one is supposed to post plastic and paper. This would be fine if you had one in the house and could post stuff as it came, but they are at the top of the road. Inside the house next to the kitchen, we have two smaller bins. When they are filled to overflowing and there's a risk the house will be submerged in a flood of yoghurt pots and cereal packets the boys take them (reluctantly) up the road to the big bin.

What they used to do was open the lid and pour everything in. Now they have to take everything out bit by bit and post it through the brushes. Result? Of course, they open up the normal bin next to it and pour everything into that. How do I know? I've taken up a normal bin bag and found all my recycling items chucked in the wrong bin. Can I blame them? No I can't. Recycling should be easy to encourage people to make the effort. If you're going to oblige them to stand there fishing in a mucky bin to bring out tatty smelly old bits of paper and plastic one by one you can be sure they'll rapidly find an alternative solution...

Catto Plouc

I had an altercation with a plouc at the Secours Catholique yesterday.

During The Big Clean of my youngest's bedroom, a fair amount of stuff had been set aside to go to the Secours Catholique. Other stuff was destined for the dump. Little by little I am ridding my life of previous crap. It's very therapeutic.

Last weekend, my TWDB and I cleaned the garage. That resulted in another trip to the dump, a swept garage floor, room for 3 bikes (not the 7 there previously were) and a BMW GS1200 - its summer quarters.

I still have a number of 205 GTI wheels that I need to get rid of that came with the 406 in the boot and I have never got round to either selling or taking to the breaker's, and a dismantled wardrobe whose bits I've probably lost and would never put back together anyway...

So yesterday's task was dumping a boot-full at the Secours Catho. It included a box of Nintendo stuff. The shop is at the top of some stone stairs, so I carried the box up and saw what I can only describe as a plouc loitering on the terrasse looking dodgy. He was quite small, very skinny, half naked (top half) and had dreadful pock-marked skin. There was a boy of about 9 with him who looked much more presentable.

I put down the box and went back to the car to get more stuff. When I was going up the stairs for the second time, the kid was walking down with my box. Oi, said I, where are you going with that? He replied that the lady had said that all stuff in the corner (where I had put my box) was to be thrown away. A bit disingenuous there and now obviously from the same plouc stock.

I told him I'd only just brought it, it was not for throwing away and he had to turn round and put it back. He did, and I removed the box to a safer spot. The dad muttered something incomprehensible which I ignored.

The next time I came up the stairs I saw the plouc walking down with the box. Did you pay for that? I asked. He said he had, and I could check if I wanted. I said I would do just that, and went into the shop. There, I found some batty old dear who looked like she was in a flap. I asked, loudly if she had sold a box of stuff to some guy. She looked confused, so I repeated my question fixing her with a 'for god's sake, please concentrate' look. Light dawned and she said he had, so that was okay.

I didn't ask how much, that wasn't my problem but it was probably ridiculously cheap.

So I came out again and saw the plouc. So? he said, I did pay, didn't I? Yes, I replied not giving a shit as long as he didn't steal the damned box. I'm not thief, he replied. Good, said I, and he started muttering insults and said he would 'get me'. Ooh, I said, I'm scared...! mocking his empty threats.

I took up the last of my stuff, ignored him and his kid and drove off wondering if I would take stuff back to the Secours Catholique again or just chuck it all in the dump as it seemed to amount to the same thing.

Authenticrap

You'll never believe me, but... my table arrived today... AND... was set up. WITH the chairs! I know, I was shocked too after all this time.

Don't worry though, there was cock-up n°3. The tele table was not in the van for some unknown reason. I was supposed to give the delivery guys a cheque for the final amount, but there was no way I was going to do that.

I called Authentica - the local branch where I bought the items. No answer. I tried again. No answer. Shut on a Monday? Could be, but they could have a message saying so. How tricky is that? It might prevent prospective customers from giving up and going to Bois et Chiffon instead...

So I tried to call Authentica HQ in Paris. A recorded voice told me that maybe I should call an 0800 number for customer services. I hung on to the direct number hoping to catch an actual person, but there was, wait for it... no answer. One of the delivery guys suggested they might all be on a coffee break. So I tried the 0800 number instead. I then pressed '2' as instructed, about an order in progress. Guess wot. Yep, no answer. I tried several times and each time got no answer.

A frustrating company to deal with as you can see!

The delivery guys suggested I write two cheques for half the amount each, but that they would check that this was okay with their supervisor. We hung about outside waiting for the call back and they regaled me with horror stories of delivering furniture. Authentica has problems with one customer out of two according to their experience. No hearsay, not rumour, just good old-fashioned 'been there, done it, got the tee-shirt' experience. My advice? Don't shop at Authentica.

Eventually, having not been called back, the delivery guy tries again. It transpires that the person who makes cheque-like decisions is... wait for it... not there. The guys are getting a little frustrated by now because it seems like there are an awful lot of people not working who should be who we need to contact. I asked him who he had spoken to, and he told me the guy I had 'incendié' during the first aborted attempt to deliver my stuff. I thought this was quite funny and was maybe why I was treated with a considerable degree of respect by the guys since.

Just goes to show that you try to be nice and accommodating and you get treated like shit. Be a bugger and the world trembles and behaves properly. Trouble is, I have to get really riled to be a bugger which is why, I suppose I've been treated a lot like shit.

Finally, the guys decided to take the executive decision of accepting two cheques one of which they would hold until Authentica got off its backside and delivered the tele table. Off they trotted with promises of coming back some time.

This evening I get a phone call from their office saying that Authentica had been in contact with them (not me) and said my tele table would be delivered at the end of May. They were having problems themselves with deliveries...

My advice? Shop anywhere you like, but if it's peace of mind and a smooth transaction you're worried about, avoid Authentica. They are totally crappy once the selling bit is finished. And don't expect an apology either.

The table does look lovely, you'll be relieved to hear!