Anglo Forum

Anyone thinking of coming to live in France, especially in Languedoc-Roussillon, would do a lot worse than consult one of a number of online websites aimed at helping anglophones move and live here.

One of those is Languedoc Sun, a regional magazine to help existing residents get the most out of the area. Yesterday, they had organised a Forum at the Domaine de Verchant, gathering together a number of English-speaking associations, services advice, networks and book signings. Both the British and American Consul Generals were there and that is why I was sent along.

It would have been pleasant anyway to bunk off and trot over, but, for once, I was sent on a professional mission to meet the new US CG. I work for a US government lab and as the director was absent, he wanted me to go and meet her and let her know we exist. It all went well, and I was able to return with my mission accomplished.

I couldn't just rush in and rush out though, there were far too many stands to linger over, and people to chat to. People like Peter from The Languedoc Page, who introduced me to Kate, blogging author of 'Diary of a French Housewife'. I also met Greca and Jamie Sandford of French Entree who have very kindly just written an article about me. I'm in there with some very enterprising folk who've set up all kinds of businesses which sound very exhausting to run. I'm so staid in comparison with my regular job and salary. Ah well.

I also met Peggy Tolleson, author of a delicious book called Wild Garlic, and her daughter. Born in Switzerland, once she married, Peggy moved quite a bit around the world with her husband. Her book recounts some of the stories from along the way, people she met, and especially, recipes which she particularly enjoyed. She now lives near Ganges, up the road so to speak, in a house with a big garden which provides produce for all sorts of scrummy jams and preserves. She also sells dried wild mushrooms which smelt so divine through the bag that I just had to buy a packet. I believe there's also a guest house to rent - an old silkworm farm - and you can buy some of the organic produce from the garden.

I tasted wine, and bought two boxes of Yorkshire Tea from a tea stand, an English goods shop from Pezenas. I was delighted, especially as the price wasn't too inflated. From a retail price of £1.99, it was on sale at 3.30Eur. That's acceptable. So my goodie bag was quite stuffed by the end what with the cookery book, mushrooms, tea and pamphlets from various organisations.

I got one from Barclays where you can apparently open a sterling account here, and one from the Anglo-American library situated in the new university building in the Richter quarter. Unfortunately, as with most university libraries, it's only open during business hours which means not at the weekend. I've never understood this. Students need to work in the library way beyond standard hours. In Exeter, when I was there, the library was open until 10pm and all weekend. I spent many many hours in there, out of hours.

Anyway, well done Languedoc Sun for organising a forum full of interesting stands. It makes you realise how many cool people there are in the region.

Back to Earth

I collected my mother from the Hotel Verchant in the pouring rain today. The weather might have been miserable, but she was perkiness personified.

She has spent a marvellous couple of days there, relaxing in the wonderful welcome of the staff and soaking up the revitalising ambiance of the place. This morning she enjoyed a face massage, emerging détendu de chez détendu. Big hugs to NG for setting that up!

Yesterday the weather was much better so she spent it outside walking amongst the vines, in the listed park and the rose garden. A quiet time was had reading in the pool house which overlooks the pool towards the hotel.

After the massage today, she explored the rest of the spa, including the luscious pool, jacuzzi, and sauna.

On Sunday evening my TWDB and I took her to the Chichoumeille restaurant for a jolly dinner (without dotty dad who was being dotty-dad-sat by saintly NG). There aren't many places open on Sunday night, but this one is, and it is a fabulous address. We started with oysters grilled with foie gras and truffle juice. They were very lightly grilled and the combination was wickedly decadent. This was followed by a lasagne of home-smoked salmon with lobster and a langoustine sauce. We washed it all down with a light but full-bodied red wine from Domaine Henry (at St Georges d'Orques). I'm not a great one for dessert, but my mother had a samoussa of raspberry and cognac cream which was warm, light and absolutely divine (I tried some!).

We stayed very very late, and had a blast.

A well-deserved rest then, for my mother who is now en pleine forme and able to tackle dotty dad with equanimity. For a totally relaxing, revitalizing break, there really is nothing like staying in a heavenly place, and Hotel Verchant really is the tops. I hope I'll be able to send her there again.

Happy Birthday Mother!!

On a Brighter Note...

... the cleaning was worth it, my parents have arrived and my tea stocks have been revived. Not only tea (Yorkshire Blend) but cheese, snossages, peanut butter, jelly, home made marmalade and a huge bucket of mini choccies.

Woohooo!! Thank you mum!

Today I decided to treat my parents to the full. We mooched down, dodging rain showers, to the market this morning. It was sadly depleted which was hardly surprising. I don't think I would have bothered to get out of bed either if I'd been a stallholder. As it was, I noted with pleasure the presence of parsnips, but as I'd just bought some in Auchan last week I didn't feel the need to get any more. They go marvellously well in pumpkin soup, as well as making their own divine soup.

I did buy bread - two Festive baguettes, which are my favourite at the moment, and then as it was starting to rain again, we walked briskly back up the hill.

The next exciting port of call was the dump! Yes, I know how to show my parents a good time! I had to take the famous cat-poohed duvet, and was desperate to get it out of the garage ASAP. Even though I'd thrown bleach all over it, it was still a tad smelly. So, I got it into the boot along with a few other bags of rubbish from clearing out my youngest's room and shameful boxes of empty wine bottles...

Again, dodging the deluge, I drove up to the dump and we unceremoniously chucked it all, satisfyingly, down into the huge containers. I was damned glad to see the back of that duvet, I'm tellin' you! My new one is as snug as a bug although I'm going to have to buy new covers for it as it seems to be bigger than average. I should have checked the size I suppose. There's inefficiency for you! Ah well.

After lunch I took my mother to the Hotel Verchant for two pa-free nights. He's now quite dotty and a handful to deal with so, as they owed me time there for having done some stuff for them, I decided it would be a fab 75th birthday pressie for my hard-pressed mother. She is having 48 hours without my dad which, for anyone caring for someone with Alzheimer's, is a rare gift indeed.

We left her decidedly perky and looking forward to lounging about in the spa. This evening, my TWDB and I are taking her out to dinner, and NG, that star, is coming to pa-sit.

As though to really throw me into the deep end with his total dottiness, my dad got convinced that an accident on Eastenders was for real and started worrying about it as though he knew the person. Then, for good measure he started worrying about my mother. She, naturally, is the last person to be worrying about right now. I hope she is steaming quietly in the sauna, doing whatever you do in the hamman, or swimming against the current of the pool.

YES!

Verchant Spa - the Opening

I already thought the Hotel Verchant was practically perfect, but last night I discovered it was even more practically perfect because it now has a brandy new sparkling Spa. The word 'spa' conjures up delicious associations of pampering, well-being, luxury, and bodily ecstasy. I was therefore seriously committed to the idea of attending the opening of the Verchant Spa and was delighted when my invitation plopped into my letterbox.

I went with my TWDB and a small group of pals; the boys were safely home creating mayhem in the kitchen with the babysitter. We were welcomed into the hotel's function room with a freshly squeezed fruit juice and the programme. A healthy start. They were keeping the champagne for later, obviously...

We went on a tour of the Spa which had been specially decorated with loads of candles and rose petals everywhere to enhance the smoochy atmosphere. My initial impression upon leaving the lift down was very positive - a good sign. You move into an ambiance of soft colours, noble materials such as pale marble, and that unmistakable feel of luxury.

We were invited to poke our noses into all the treatment rooms, kitted out as they are with the latest in high-tec spa equipment, and were introduced to the coach in the gym who also has all the trendiest gym machines of torture including the vibrating one.

The most impressive feature for me, was the pool. It was decorated on that day with candles sitting on huge lily leaves floating in strategic spots. When turned on however, the water apparently rises a little to flow over the stones which line the edge all the way round. On the wall at the far end is a mosaic which covers the entire surface depicting a local scene, the quality of which is representative of the overall quality of the Spa.

There is a VIP room which you can hire à deux where you can enjoy your treatments in the privacy of your own area. Ng was commissioned to do a painting for this room and it greets you as you walk in - a lovely soft-coloured painting depicting a deserted beach and a gentle sea. Verchant's owner, Pierre Mestre was delighted with it.

The Spa lures you, makes you want to stay and be pampered, to be swathed in essential oils and delicious-smelling creams and potions, massaged, de-stressed and de-toxed. It's an exclusive club, open to hotel patrons and a limited number of Spa members which of course makes it even more desirable.

It was only the prospect of a buffet by Didier Germain that made me leave that haven of peace and tranquility, and the arrival of the next set of visitors. We went back up the greeny glass steps to reality and non-requited muscle strain into the welcome embrace of skewered scallops and fresh oysters. Oh, and gallons of Veuve Cliquot.

The party was fabulous, the buffet divine, as ever, and the champagne copious. There were even fireworks.

My TWDB is now contemplating becoming a member of the Spa. I'm encouraging him, like mad.

Best Birthday Ever

Birthdays come and go; some you remember, some you don't, and there are some that stick out forever like a beacon.

My 45th birthday is one of those. It started on Friday evening, in great style. NG had organised dinner for me, my TWDB, C&A, and herself at the Hotel Verchant. My TWDB and I were to stay the night, as a gift from the hotel's directrice.

The hotel is such a friendly, cosy place, going there is not really like going to a hotel, but to a friend's house. Dinner was delicious. After champagne and nibbles, we sat down to a seafood bisque with fried spinach ravioli, then, to my delight, a main course of venison. I don't know the last time I had venison but it must be at least 30 years. I love the stuff - it's one of my favourite meats, but of course, not easy to get hold of, and pricey if you do! It was cooked to perfection, was lovely and tender and a real treat. I then had a cake with fizzing candles, made by the Pourcel brothers (or from the kitchen of, I suppose). It was fruity and yummy; not a sickly mousse in sight.

After dinner me mates had to drag themselves home while TWDB and I just had to totter up a spiral stone staircase and into a massive bedroom set in the stone 'dependences' of the manor house. King-sized bed, tip top quality trendy fittings, and a super shower. It's the first time I've stayed in such luxury, and I must say, it doesn't take long to get used to!

Breakfast was funny because I'm a bit of a stickler about how to make tea. Being British, an'all, I do like it made with boiling water, the tea already in the pot. In France, they are completely averse to making it like this, preferring to give you a pot of warmish water, the tea bag still in its little bag sitting coyly in a little bowl. When I tried to press home the importance of tea in pot first, I was told that for hygienic reasons, the staff didn't touch the tea bag. When you're going to frazzle the thing in 100°C water, I don't quite know what bugs they think could survive, and frankly, I'd rather have a decent pot of tea plus bugs than a pristine undrinkable pot of gnat's pee. The staff were so perplexed by my tea issue that they even called the directrice! I can only assume that I'm the first Brit who's passed that way and asked for a proper morning cuppa. They hadn't heard of English Breakfast either, just offering ever-lighter brews of the type Darjeeling, Ceylan, Earl Grey etc.

Still it was all lovely although I did wonder about the twisted nature of hotel designers who create beautiful bathroom/loos with trendy glass doors which fit so badly that the whole room can be entertained to the 'total loo experience'. Very intimidating it is.

We tore ourselves reluctantly away at noon, and went to have a light lunch because we were due for another culinary delight that evening - my actual birthday. My TWDB actually managed to book a table at the Jardin des Sens for that evening - something of a miracle, but he's that type of guy... so we were able to dress up again and head out for a second mega dinner in two days.

It's an amazing place, and if you ever get the chance to go there, jump at it. In some restaurants I taste the food and think to myself I could try to make it at home, but at the Jardin des Sens, it's all so exquisitely put together, with a myriad of tastes and senses that it's impossible to even guess at how it's done. We chose a menu 'des saveurs' which meant that we got several courses each based around a saveur - lobster, fish, duck. Each plate was a work of art, and we were speechless as the flavours revealed themselves as we ate. The service was superb - not overbearing or snooty, but efficient and friendly. The cheese trolley was of such quality it was hard not to run off with the whole thing, and the wine which was recommended (Mas Laval) was absolutely perfect.

I've never enjoyed such a luxurious decadent birthday, ever. It will go down in the annals of my history as the birthday that lasted two days, was marked by the kindness and generosity of my fab friends, and the knowledge that I do enjoy very much living it up in the lap of luxury.

Yep, I do!

Not a Translation

Having spent a glorious afternoon with half of Montpellier and NG on the beach at le Petit Travers, I came back to examine an English translation of the Verchant (hotel & domaine) website. Considering that this was done by a reputable, professional, probably highly expensive company I was frankly appalled.

Have you ever described any building as a 'venerable residence' (demeure antique)? If you read that rooms had 'safe and heated flooring and mirrors' would you realise that the word 'safe' had nothing to do with the flooring and everything to do with a locked box you put valuables in to keep them 'safe'? Just two examples and those alone should cancel any hope the translation office have of receiving full payment for their efforts.

It reads reasonably well for the most part but is just clumsy if you know what I mean. A bit sloppy too with commas missed or inappropriately placed. Considering that the text describes a 5-star hotel, you would expect impeccable English and an elegant turn of phrase. Not some translation taken from a dictionary without a passing glance at nuance or poetry.

Talking of nuance and poetry, I've joined a writer's website, WriteWords, a site which was recommended to me by Keris who was in turn recommended by Craig McGinty of This French Life. I have joined the Chick Lit group and am keen to see what I can add, and any advice the members may be able to dish out. I suppose I need to get hold of an agent first and foremost - one who can bang publishers over nose and get stuff published (as it were)!

If I can get some sort of feeling that things are moving, I may be able to get to grips with book number 2, or at least feel inspired to do the research for it. I'll be investigating five gripping events in history across the continents. Battles, uprisings, revolutions. Just five - should be quite exciting to do!

... a space to watch...

La Soirée de l'Année

'Tenue de soirée' it was written on the matt black invitation. How unusual, and how exciting to be expected to dress up... I had the very thing - long, slightly shimmery, dusky pink snakeskin design, close-fitting with a look d'enfer!

Slipping the dress over my head, I wondered whether it would still fit. Oh ye of little faith, thought I as it slid effortlessly down and sat snugly on my not so surreptitiously expanding afterall hips. It was long, longer than I remembered, but drop dead snazzy. I slipped on my strappy sandals and whisked myself and NG off to the soirée de l'année Montpellieraine.

Turning into the gates of the Hotel Verchant, we showed our invitation, were greeted by the bouncers and waved up the drive at the end of which was another check-point. To my joy (and it'll have to fall off before I take it off) a VIP sticker was stuck to my windscreen by Valérie, the hotel's director, and we drove round to the VIP car-park next to the hotel entrance. This enabled us to walk a short distance, clean-shoe'd, to the entrance, as opposed to non-VIPs who had to trip their way through the dust and muck from the outer car-parks.

Check-point n° 3 - more recognition, more friendly welcomes, more instructions. We climbed the steps, passed through the events hall and went in search of a more liquid welcome. It came in the guise of rosé wine - the house rosé, and slipped agreeably down.

Looking around us, we had le tout Montpellier as our fellow invités. Le tout were dressed in various interpretations of 'tenue de soirée' extending from, for men, jeans under a crappy shirt, to smart suit (no dinner jackets except on the musicians); and for women, one in what looked like my nightdress in beige satin with black leather boots, no bra, buxom (look pétasse), through grey trousers and everyday blouse (look mémé), shiny black tight-fitting trouser suit with killer-heeled boots (look pute), perfect bourgeois dress, perfect blonde hair coupe carré, perfect low heels, smug expression (look bourgeoise parfaite de chez bourgeoise parfaite), and a few in evening dress who looked lovely although one was so skinny I thought she might pass out with malnutrition before the evening was finished.

It was the official opening of the Hotel Verchant. NG and I were invited because we work with them through our association Promo'Arts, and just recently, on a last minute rewrite of the English translation of their brochure. I'd had 20 minutes to render into evocative English a literal translation of the original French texts. I did it, and heard last night that my version was considered better written than the original French (ha!). It's nice to hear things like that.

As the evening progressed, coloured lights lit up the grounds and images from its history were projected onto the cream-coloured stone of the hotel. We wandered around admiring the overall beauty, but wondering at some of the glaring points faibles. Inside the décor has been done to perfection. Outside, on the other hand, the park designer seems to have had little idea beyond a number of derived ideas about what is suitable for a 5* hotel. One example was putting next to gorgeously coloured sandstone walls some dead white pebbles out of which poked some long thin cactii. It just didn't look right. The rose garden was infested with something, and would have looked better full of lavender; and the flower beds were a mess of unsuitable, untidy plants. Amazing really.

The buffet, on the other hand, was perfect. It was provided by Didier Germain's team, the best in Montpellier, and who provided the buffet for Promo'Arts back in May (for free!). Everyone in Montpellier knows that if you are invited to a soirée with a Germain Traiteur buffet, you will eat like a king, and there's no polite holding back when it comes to making a beeline for the food.

Last night, however, NG and I were approached by M Germain and invited to partake of the buffet with a few select others (VIPs?) BEFORE the general call to food. It was one of those gestures that seem small, but offer in fact infinitely more to the receiver than the giver could ever imagine. The buffet was set up beneath the age old pin parasols, coloured lights providing atmospheric touches and une ambiance de fête. Various stands had been place around a large semi-circle allowing plenty of room to move and eat. Each one had a chef who was whisking up something cooked to accompany the cold nibbles. We stopped at the nems counter where NG nearly died of joy they were so good. The buffet was sheer gastronomic bliss, as ever!

We retired to sit once the general call to food was made and let the crowd rush down to pounce on everything they could lay their paws on. I went back down to mingle a bit later and a nice guy fed (handed...) me oysters with foie gras, while on another stand I sneaked in and snapped up warm barely cooked to die for morsels of scallops on a stick in sauce before a little crowd of distracted le touts.

Pierre Mestre, the owner of Verchant, gave a speech (which maybe I should have written and had translated...) which was unfortunately just a dry recounting of the history of la maison Verchant, devoid of humour. His lovely youngest daughter who must be about 13 recognised NG and I from a previous event which impressed us no end. She had a nice little chat with us dressed as she was, nattily, in white jeans and a pretty (modest) black top.

Finally, just before NG passed out, we took vintage champagne and dessert on the terrasse overlooking the vineyards, where we could also observe at closer hand the talent the evening offered. It was not very impressive, I was sorry to see. Some obvious good looks with ego to match, lots of normality, and some 'interesting but not classically handsome' faces. Ah well, there was the chocolate fountain instead...

On our way out, we took our goodie bag which contained a bottle of wine (natch!) and the brochure of the hotel with my translation (which I must say did read very well!). It had been fun if a trifle nippy - we had chatted to some of our friends and acquaintances and eaten divinely and drunk well (but not excessively).

When I got home the babysitter congratulated me on the beautiful manners of the boys.
A perfect evening!

Wanna see a piccie?

This afternoon I was busy working on the Promo' Arts website. I had to transfer all the photos taken on my camera onto the computer and then try and upload them to the web. From experience, I've found that creating a Powerpoint presentation and transforming that into a jpg image file works well for making a page of photos that can be viewed better when clicked.

For some reason, the four pages I did of the evening's events flatly refused to upload properly. I could not insert each photo individually into the website as it would take too much room, so eventually I came to the conclusion it would be better to start a Promo' Arts Yahoo photo album.

This I did, and of course it took a mere 10 minutes from beginning to end and I wish I'd thought of it sooner, but one lives by trial and error, so now I know...

For those interested in seeing a little snippet of the Domaine de Verchant's events facilities, or the Promo' Arts team, or people having a jolly time, you can get to it via the Promo' Arts website, and click on the link in the text.

Since the 22nd, we have received several emails thanking and congratulating us on a wonderful evening, three requests to become members by the post, cheque included, and a continuous flow of phone calls. Despite the fact that 5 of the paintings did not sell, and that others were sold way under their value, perhaps we have managed to get ourselves talked about sufficiently to enable us to make a bigger impact next time.

The people of Montpellier are notorious for not participating fully at charity evenings. We did, in fact, do very well although we could have done better if most people had given more than the 10euro minimum for a glass, if all the paintings had been sold, and if those sold had gone for a higher price 'for charity'.

Still, considering the forces against us, we managed to impress the president of the Ligue Contre le Cancer, Pr Henri Pujol, not only with our evening, but also that we will be handing over a cheque of over 9000 euros in the very near future. This was essentially made possible by the extreme generosity of those who let us have the location, wine, food, music and auctioneering for free. There seem to be two extremes working here. What we need to achieve is a general movement upwards so that the efforts of the few extremely generous are not put to shame by the laxity of most of the rest.

Our motto should become : Onwards and upwards!

The Day, Day After

Yesterday was one helluva day! It was the day of Promo' Arts gala event in aid of the Ligue Contre le Cancer.

The printer finally decided to behave and industrial quantities of programmes and receipts poured out (to be folded/cut). We had things to sort out at the Domaine de Verchant (glasses, chairs, tables) and were hard at it until mid-afternoon.

Having changed into something a little less casual, we headed back to find the caterers (best in Montpellier) doing their thing and a sense of eager anticipation. It has to be said we had the absolute best of everything: location, wine, aperitif, buffet, music, weather, teams, auctioneer.

Around 150 people came, paid for their glass, admired the surroundings and went to enjoy the Vignoble Guitard white wine. I don't think there was a single politician. Everyone had to pay to get in, you see, and we hadn't asked for any grants or other money to help us out. All our donations were made privately.

We were honoured by the presence of the president of the Ligue Contre le Cancer, Professor Henri Pujol who was very pleased with the evening. I was delighted to meet the people who made it all happen: Pierre Mestre of Domaine de Verchant (and red wine), Guy Cholet of Groupe Cholet (invitations), Charles Guitard, Antoine Peskine (logistics), Mr & Mrs Germain (buffet) and of course, Franck Fontcouberte who conducted the chamber orchestra and Maïtre Françoise Kusel the auctionner. It was fabulous.

The concert was perfect with some Bach, Mozart, Telemann, Elgar and Britten. I loved the English touch. I had played with the orchestra when it had been an amateur affair ten years ago. Franck has moved on since then and put together a wonderful team who play with warmth and enthusiasm. Funnily enough, my eldest's violin teacher is part of it. It was a surprise seeing her up there!

We had positive feedback upon positive feedback. The auction went well, the auctioneer was a riot, and I was called upon to note who bought what and at what price. The artist who had given us the most trouble had tried to offload one of her old paintings from way back in 1994 onto the auction. It didn't sell (hehe). Our guests didn't want it either, not even for a good cause!

Still we made over 10,000Eur and will give 90% to the Ligue Contre le Cancer, keeping 10% to enable us to start preparing for the next event.

Definitely an evening to remember!

Day Before...

I'm getting ready for the big day (evening) tomorrow. The Promo' Arts charity gala in aid of the Ligue Contre le Cancer is all set for demain soir. Needless to say, everything has been going wrong today. Is this a good sign? In the theatre, a terrible dress rehearsal is indicative of a fabulous first night. Let's hope the same applies to gala events.

I've plucked my eyebrows, de-haired my legs (shaved, not waxed - my legs are immune to wax), and am applying nail polish as I type. It may well come out a bit bitty... I'm typing with one hand as the other one dries. How's that for blog dedication? Actually, the last time I had my finger nails polished was just before I gave birth to my youngest which happened at the same time as a big conference my ex-h was organising. I had all my bits done for the big dinner on the Saturday, and all was still looking great after the conference two days later when I had to go to the maternité. That was six years ago. Shows how often I get out...

Tomorrow we have to print the programmes on the printer that has decided to have a nervous breakdown and stop feeding paper, photocopy the lists of guests seven times for the eight welcome tables (one already done!), take the white wine to the Domaine de Verchant, and stick the glass stickers onto the glasses (instead of having them engraved - too pricey and too long to do).

I'm wishing I had persevered with the over-winter sun cream that I should have been applying through the cooler months in order to have glowing legs all ready for summer. But I got bored. Unfortunately now, though, my legs are pretty un-brown, so I'll just have to pretend I'm going for the 'pale and interesting' look.

I'll be wearing a pretty zappy dress rom my flea market lady and some shoes I bought around 15 years ago which I recently found again when we cleared out the garage. I did buy new bangles though, from Inno (Monoprix). The dress is labeled 'Serge Dana by Arfal'. Sounds good, but I've never heard of either of them.

I'll let you know how it goes. Fingers crossed it doesn't rain!

Contrepointal Coincidence

It's well-known that Montpellier is a very small place; you keep bumping into people you know in town and everyone knows what everyone is doing.

I had not been overly aware of this phenomenon, not making particularly frequent visits into town, and working outside the city. Still, this week I was hit full force.

After returning from doing my Masters during my ex-h's military service, and having played in an orchestra during my uni days in Bristol, I decided to seek out an amateur orchestra in Montpellier. I found one: the Ensemble Instrumental Contrepoint. It was made up of young people; many formerly of the Conservatoire who were pretty good, and then ones like me who were okay. I was lucky, I played the viola so was always in demand.

The conductor and director was one Franck Fontcouberte who was a passionate guy in more ways than one (and ended up marrying her), and dragged us all kicking and screaming to get the best out of us. We even made a mini disk. It was good fun. I missed the tour to Eastern Europe because I had got pregnant and would have to give up the orchestra as there would be no one to help me look after the baby (certainly not my ex-h).

That was in 1996. This week, the Ensemble Instrumental Contrepoint, directed by Franck Fontcouberte told us that it is going to participate in Promo'Arts' art auction to provide a chamber orchestra half-hour concert just before, and a quartet during the buffet. It seems that they practice at the Domaine de Verchant where we are holding our auction, and have agreed to offer us some delightful music.

Talk about a coincidence. I am delighted at the prospect of seeing the orchestra again and hearing how they have moved on from agreeably amateur to professional. Apparently Franck remembers who I am (there aren't that many viola players floating about) and I'm looking forward to catching up on what he's been doing.

It's a real blast from the past. My son is now 10!

A glass in the hand...

Last week the Telegraph and The Times both ran articles on the health benefits of drinking wine from the Gers in France, and Nuoro province in Sardinia. Apparently these wines contain high levels of tannat grapes which are themselves especially rich in procyanidins. These

offer the greatest degree of protection to human blood-vessel cells. Pro-cyanadins suppress production of endothelin-1, a protein that constricts blood vessels.

Happily, the Telegraph wine correspondant gives us a list of wines from the Gers region available in the UK so there is no excuse for Brits not to live happily, healthily and inebriated. Drunkenness is a state that large numbers seek to find on a regular basis. Now they can find it and know they'll live to be 90 in the process...

Having recovered from the blind Bordeaux tastings of last week, I was looking forward to the annual piss-up put on by the Montpellier Agglomeration to promote Agglo wine: the Fête des Vignes. This event has been going on now for three years and I'm proud to be able to tell you I have been to every one. At the first, I discovered the wines of Domaine Henry at St Georges d'Orques. From the dazzling array of choice presented to me that first year, I selected a domaine to taste based on the photo in the publicity pamphlet of M Henry and his wife. It showed them looking at each other and smiling fondly, even lovingly, and this is what cinched it. With such a loving atmosphere, the wine could only be good. And it was.

Yesterday, time was running short by the time we got to the Place de la Comedie and we were not able to spend ages lazily working our way through the tokens presented to us together with the dégustation glass which we bought for 2€.

I did not have a lot of time to go into town to enjoy myself, but we had to go and the prospect of the wine tasting was extremely attractive, so we took the tram, bought our tokens and glasses and headed east. Our first stop was at the Domaine Verchant. I had received excellent reports of this place from NG who had been there for the launch of a beer made of wine, as one of the artists invited to compete to provide the producers with art for the labels. She had brought back a bottle of the rosé which was simply scrumptious. We tried the other reds which, despite being vin de pays, were excellent. When I made this observation, I was told that the vineyard had been taken on by the present owners only recently, and they wanted to experiment with their production which would not be possible if they had the AOC constraints right from the start.

From what they had produced to date, it is obvious they are on the right path to succulent excellence.

Next stop was Domaine Henry to say hello and indulge in a little taster of their totally gorgeous wines. This is the producer of the Renaissance wine I wrote about last year; the Mailhol. M Henry was offering the 2003 with a bottle of the Passerille for a special Fête des Vignes price. This is how the Passerille is described:

Très grand vin rare, il est le premier rouge moelleux français non muté. Elaboré à la manière d’un Sauternes, c’est un vin de folie, à commencer par les rendements, de l’ordre d’un unique verre par souche !

The stuff is very pricey, but we will be in France for Christmas this year, and I decided it would be a terribly good idea to drink de tels merveilles as part of the celebrations.

We did not stay long but we did make excellent use of the time we had available!