Not quite there yet

Just when you think you are getting the hang of things, something goes awry to let you know you've still haven't cracked this foreign communication malarkey. A few days ago I was congratulating myself on arranging a delivery of building materials from the DIY store to the apartment, situated in the narrow streets of the bastide town.

"Je suis en centre ville", I said. "Oui", she replied.
"Pas de problem", I probed. "Non", she replied, implaccably.
"Bon", said I, unknowingly

So, naturally, when the delivery driver phoned me on Tuesday afternoon to say he was on his way, he casually mentioned that his lorry was too big, 'un grand camion", and that the best he could do was drop the stuff at the top of the hill in the car park some 200 metres from the apartment. When he arrived at the car park, where I had gone to meet him, I tried in my best French to ask why, when he knew I was in 'centre ville' he had not come in a smaller van, under the allowed weight limit for the bastide, as arranged and agreed. That one expressive shrug of his French shoulders and downturned pout of his French mouth said, without saying a word, 'This is the lorry it's on, I can't go down that road, I can put it down here or I can take it back to the depot, It's your problem and I don't really give a rat's ass either way, take it or leave it'.

So take it we did. Twelve 3m and six 4m lengths of wood and twenty-eight, yes 28, 3m x 1.2m sheets of plasterboard. If you've ever tried to lift a 3m sheet of plasterboard you will know that it is very heavy and you need two people to carry it or it will bend and break. Help was needed.

Help arrived in the form of my trusty Audi, into which, in roof down mode, we piled the wood for the short journey down the hill - two trips and it was done - relatively painless apart from the continuing damage to the leather seats. We briefly toyed with the idea of balancing the plasterboard on the back of the car and rolling down the hill at walking pace but the length of the board ruled this out. There was only one option, it had to be carried.

My other help arrived in the form of a little and large team from Ireland. Not that they are a comedy duo or a team, just that one is a big bear of a man, an artist and fellow resident of the town, and the other is a slight, gentle man from Dublin who had arrived the day before for a quiet week in his holiday apartment situated on the second floor above my own. I felt very guilty in imposing on them both and would not have been surprised if all manner of pressing engagements had suddenly occured to them, but they are both kindness personified and leapt to the task unhesitatingly with, well, not quite enthusiasm but certainly determination.

So it was, in two teams of two, that the plasterboard was ferried down the hill in relays, under a hot afternoon sun and to the amusement of many passers by who were no doubt sniggering about stupid foreigners who thought they could get material delivered in town. The verbose, constantly chattering Irish team must have used as much energy talking as they did carrying and the stoic anglo-saxon team whose only word was "ready" at the start of each trip. Fourteen journeys of 200m carrying board is 2.8km plus another 2.8km walking back up the hill meant 5.6km each in total. Now that is a good workout, and we had only got it as far as the arch so far; We still had to carry it up to the first floor. Time for a tea break.

By 6.30pm, three hours after delivery, the job was done and four bottles of cold lager were consumed in 10 seconds flat. My enormous thanks goes to my generous Irish friends - without them the genius and I would still have been out there at 9.00pm for sure.

It was a day that appeared destined for trouble from the beginning. What should have been a relatively straighforward trip to Tridome for plumbing parts for me and paint for my Irish neighbour turned into a two and a half hour tour of four DIY stores and one plumbing wholesaler. There appears to be a national shortage of 12mm copper pipe, all other sizes available but not the one we wanted. At the last location, we couldn't even find where the copper pipe was being kept because they were in the middle of a major re-organisation of both the gardening and DIY stores which resulted in hosepipes on the same shelf as paint and plumbing parts in 3 locations. It's hard enough to find what you want at the best of times but when the store staff don't know where everything is and they are not sure what you have just asked for, in less than perfect French, you don't really have a chance. This is the store we once walked round for half an hour looking for radiators and towel rails, only to be told, quite bluntly, that they were in the gardening section. How stupid could we have been. Of course they are. Eventually I found someone who understood what I wanted and knew where it was - it was in the storeroom at the back and not on display at all - I just had to ask!

At last. They had a 3m length of 12mm copper pipe - mission accomplished. And so the intrepid band made it's way home. Me and my irish neighbour in the front, a 1.2m square showerbase wedged in behind the front seats forming an impenetrable barrier to the genius, equally wedged in, on the back seat. My Irish neighbour clutched the copper pipe like a flagpole out of the top of the car. It really should have been flying a pennant with my colours fluttering in the breeze - it felt like I had won a battle, although the afternoon's events proved I had not won the war. The showerbase allowed me no direct rearward vision and the genius no forward vision and was a very effective sound insulator, which made reversing the car into the arch an act of pure blind faith and total reliance on having done it a hundred times before. Practice makes perfect and perfect it was - despite the muffled concern from the other side of the showerbase.

And so it was we all breathed a great sigh of relief and wondered what aches and pains would materialise over the days to come.

The following day, before my flight home, I was back at Tridome buying steel for ceiling frames. I needed four 5.3m rails, which were a bit long, even for our lavish open top Audi escapades. So, having bought said steels I laid them on the floor just outside the pick-up point, produced a tape measure and a pair of cutters (or snips as I think they are known in the trade) and proceeded to cut said steels into 3.5m and 1.8m pieces, under the gaze of the disbelieving but, I think, begrudgingly respectful, Tridome employees, before loading them once more into my poor maligned car. I just know they will be thinking 'what are they going to ask for next and how are they going to get it in that car'. I like to think we may have a few surprises for them yet.