Peugeot - where sometimes an "open day" means "business as usual"

The French often come in for something of a pasting when it comes to business practices and customer service.

Unfair of course - because each country has its own peculiarities, although admittedly France seems to have more than its far share.

Still, no matter how much you might want to defend them, sometimes the French excel themselves in redefining common sense...and their own language.

Take the case of "portes ouvertes" or "open days" as interpreted by some car dealers in the country.

They've just taken place here with manufacturers eager to entice potential customers with the promise of special offers.

Those can include a 'manufacturer's official) dealer offering to take back your current vehicle at its market price (as defined by the "bible" of second-hand car value in France, the magazine and website "Argus")  and at the same time knocking off up to €5,000 on the purchase of some of models.

Others throw in free service for a year or more and monthly leasing rates without the need to put down a deposit.

In fact, there's almost a glut in the range of "special offers" available, limited to a certain period but repeated with such frequency that they've become almost par for the course.

And to give sales that extra boost, there are those "portes ouvertes" when dealers throw open their doors at times when they would normally be closed...or so you would think.

Because outside of the main metropolitan areas, it can sometimes be difficult to find car dealers who have understood that an "open day" is not the same as "business as usual".

Such was the case this past weekend in the southwestern département of Tarn.

The official Peugeot dealers in the towns of Graulhet and Gaillac (both with populations of around 12,000) proudly announced they would be holding "portes ouvertes".

Only you had to pay attention to the times, because in reality they weren't - "portes ouvertes", that is.

Peugeot 2008 (screenshot from video report by Malcolm Flynn on CarsGuide.com.au

The two dealers were open on Friday and Saturday - just as they always are, but closed on Sunday because, as they explained to the bemused potential buyer who turned up then and happened to find someone in the showroom not selling but simply catching up on some paperwork, "portes ouvertes had been on the previous two days."

Huh?

Now let's take a quick look at the Gaillac dealer's regular opening hours.

Um...Monday-Friday from eight o'clock in the morning until half-past seven in the evening. And on Saturday from eight o'clock in the morning until seven o'clock in the evening.

And those "portes ouvertes"? Friday 16 January and Saturday 17 January (even though an Internet search tells you initially that it was in fact on Saturday 17 and Sunday 18).

Oh well.

Never mind.

There was always a 25km drive to Albi or a 50km one to Toulouse.

Or not.

November 11 commemorations - and the lonesome boar

There's a certain ambivalence among the French as to how they honour those who died in World War One.

On Tuesday, there were the very official ceremonies, with the French president, François Hollande, leading the commemorations by unveiling a new WW1 memorial, "l’Anneau de la Mémoire" ("Ring of Remembrance") next to the Notre-Dame-de-Lorette military cemetery in northern France.

François Hollande at Notre-Dame-de-Lorette (screenshot BFM TV report)

L'Anneau de la Mémoire inauguré - Le 11/11/2014 à 07h00

Up and down the country, there were similar services to remember those who had fought and died in WW1.

But that didn't mean the whole of the country came to a standstill.

Far from it.

For many, it was simply yet another public holiday - and a pretty long one at that.

With November 11 falling on a Tuesday, plenty took the opportunity to extend the usual  weekend into a four-day break.

Others, of course, had to work.

The usual services - transport, emergency and local supermarkets (yep, the country's - somewhat erratic - shop opening hours might be at the centre of a debate at the moment, but clearly there were still those who needed to pop out for groceries) for example.

And for international bankers (oh, what a shame) it was business as usual because the markets were open in many other countries.

Meanwhile, if you happened to be in rural France, you could well have been in for a very special treat.

The weather was mild - at least in the southwest of the country - and ideal for a pleasant stroll in, for example, the forest of Sivens (in the news recently for the death of 21-year-old Rémi Fraisse, a protester at the controversial dam project) in the département of Tarn.

Accompanying you on your walk, would have been the blood-curdling howls of hounds as they ripped through the woods and spilled out on to the roads, chasing their prey a dozen or so kilometres across the countryside and into the fields surrounding the picturesque village of Castelnau de Montmiral.

Yes, the hunt was on with some locals seemingly intent on paying tribute in their own special way...letting out the dogs, allowing them to rampage, and saluting the memory of those who had died by opening fire on their quarry - a lonesome boar.

How very appropriate for November 11.

What colour is Rodez cathedral? It can be hard to get a straight answer to a simple question

What colour is the cathedral in the southern town of Rodez?

That's what radio show host Laurent Ruquier wanted to find out on Wednesday.

His "quest" proved to be almost a "mission impossible".

Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Rodez (from Wikipedia, photographer Jean-Paul Cronimus)

For those of you not familiar with Ruquier, he's a well-known journalist, satirical comedian (whether you find him funny is another matter), columnist, author, playwright, impresario - in fact an all-round talent basically.

He also hosts both television and radio shows and among them is the daily chat show (of sorts) on Europe 1 radio  "On va s'gêner" .

Ruquier takes an often irreverent look at some news headlines by having his faithful band of fellow commentators guess "what the story is" after giving them the briefest of clues in the form of a question which doesn't give away too much of the answer and then...well let's things develop from there.

On Tuesday apparently one of the regulars, veteran journalist Pierre Bénichou, had mentioned that the cathedral in the southern town of Rodez in the département of Aveyron was red.

Not so, said Ruquier the following day, relying on information he had been provided by a listener who insisted that Bénichou had confused the cathedral in Rodez with the arguably more famous one in Albi in the neighbouring département of Tarn (which is well-known for its red brick buildings).

When Bénichou stuck to his guns, Ruquier decided he would ring the Town Hall in Rodez to check who was right.

After all, who better to ask than the people responsible for running the place?

This wasn't a prank call or Ruquier trying to mess around. He genuinely wanted an answer to the question as to whether the cathedral in Rodez was red.

But from the very start it was clear he wasn't going to get a quick answer.

What happened over the next 13 minutes (you can hear the exchanges here) almost defies belief...except it doesn't.

At the beginning it was amusing. Several minutes of radio which perfectly reflect how difficult it can sometimes be to get even the simplest of answers to the most innocent of questions.

Gradually though it became both frustrating and embarrassing.

First of all Ruquier was answered by a receptionist who, clearly not wanting (or able) to answer the question herself, put him on hold while she put him through to the "right department".

Once connected Ruquier repeated his question and once again was put on hold until the person in charge could be found at which point...he landed an answerphone.

Another attempt to call the Town Hall had Ruquier once again transferred from person to person, each one unable or unwilling to answer his question until finally he was put through to one woman who replied rather abruptly, "Who are you?" before giggling and putting the the 'phone down.

Ruquier tried another tack and rang the Bishopric where a woman was unable to answer because she had "a window in her office which didn't faced the cathedral!". Appearing to have been cut off, Ruquier called back only to be told by the same woman, "I'm too busy. to answer. Goodbye."

Next Ruquier turned to what he thought was a local café where a woman replied quite convincingly that the cathedral was neither red nor pink. "It's grey," she asserted. "We're in Aveyron here, not in Tarn."

Hallelujah!

Ruquier had his answer. Someone in Rodez, a town with almost 25,000 inhabitants and which boasts the rather splendid Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Rodez (built from 1277 to 1542 - thank you Wikipedia) had been able to answer his question...INCORRECTLY.

Because later in the show Ruquier had the mayor of Rodez Christian Teyssèdre who, while insisting that the staff at the Town Hall were a "cheerful crowd" confirmed (at 68 minutes) that the cathedral was, "Red or rather pink as we say here."

Phew. At least one Ruthénois who knows what colour the building is.

Perhaps Ruquier should have rung the Tourist Office instead. Someone there would have been able to tell him that the cathedral was made from red sandstone - er...you would hope.

A slice of life in France - Lautrec, Tarn

As the website Travel France Online says, the French painter Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec never set foot in the village of Lautrec in the southwest of France even though it was the ancestral home of the artist's family.

Lautrec, Tarn

But plenty of visitors tread its streets each year thanks largely to its status as one of "Les Plus Beaux Villages de France" (The most beautiful villages of France), its proximity to the striking city of Albi, and yes...the garlic.

Rue de Lengouzy, Lautrec,

Now it's not often you can say you've been to one of the garlic capital's of the world - and it's not something you might want to admit to - but l'ail rose de Lautrec (or pink garlic to the rest of us) is apparently "recognised by gourmets as prince of seasonings, with a flavour that is particularly sought after" and its growth and harvesting are strictly certified and confined to the clay-chalky hillsides surrounding the village.

For those Garlicophiles among you (there must be some) try checking out these sites for more information (both in English); the first one is a tourist site for Tarn and the second is dedicated solely to Lautrec's pink garlic.

Oh yes, and if that isn't enough, you might want to give the recipe for pink garlic soup in the photo a bash.

Yum.

Pink garlic soup recipe

Anyway, moving on rapidly from garlic, Lautrec is one of three villages in the département of Tarn (along with Castelnau de Montmiral and Puycelsi) belonging to the independent association of "Les Plus Beaux Villages de France" whose aim is to "protect and promote" French villages (of fewer than 2,000 inhabitants) which it deems to have "outstanding heritage" and which have "not turned into soulless museums or 'theme parks'".

Lautrec fits the bill perfectly.

A 30-kilometre drive from the département's main city of Albi, a Unesco World Heritage site since August 2010, and just 15 kilometres away from the second city of Castres, Lautrec is a gem with bags of historical and architectural interest for a place that boasts barely 1,700 local Lautrécois or Lautrécoises.

17th century restored windmill, Lautrec


Steps to windmill

Make your way up to 17th century mill almost near the peak of la Colline de la Salette and take a moment to catch your breath and admire how well it has been restored before going further for a panoramic view of the village.

Lautrec, Tarn - panoramic view

Lane to windmill

Take the steps down the village lane - mind how you go - and pay a visit to L'église Saint-Rémy (Saint-Rémy church) dating back to the 14th century, listed as an Historic Monument in France since 1999 and one of the village landmarks. You can't miss it.

Throughout the village you can admire the beautifully maintained traditional half-timbered houses, the 15th century market place and visit the underground grain silos all of which, according to the village's official website, "make it a veritable living history book".

Half-timbered houses

Clog maker and nature walk sign

Place des Halles, Lautrec

Place des Halles, Lautrec

For more of a taste as to what Lautrec has to offer, take a look at the accompanying YouTube video which is a diaporama of one visitor's impressions.

La Terrasse de Lautrec

And finally if you do pay the place a visit and are looking for somewhere to stay, then check out the 17th century La Terrasse de Lautrec, a bed and breakfast on rue de l'Eglise in the heart of the village, a member of the French Chambres d'Hôtes de Charme and whose magnificent front door is just asking to be knocked...very loudly.

Bon voyage.

A stage of The Tour de France - close up

When the Tour de France passes by your front door you get a close up view of what all the fuss is about and you can't help but realise that it's something more than "just" a sporting event.

Stage 11 of this year's race was from the village of Blaye-les-Mines to the town of Lavaur, both in the soutwestern département of Tarn.

The route took the riders past the pretty bastide of Castelnau de Montmiral.

Castelnau de Montmiral

To find exactly where that is, grab a map of France, look at the southwest portion of the hexagon-shaped country where you'll find the city of Toulouse.

Trace a path back northeast or at roughly two o'clock on a watch face and you'll come across Gaillac.

It's one of France's oldest wine-producing areas and, it has to be said, also one of the country's best-kept Appellation d’origine contrôlée (AOC) secrets.

Just northwest of the town, and set in the area's typical rolling countryside, surrounded by vineyards and fields of sunflowers is Castelnau de Montmiral, a village well worthy of its rating as a member of France's 155-strong association, Les plus beaux villages de France (France's most beautiful villages).

A wander up the lane would be all it would take to be afforded a view of the riders as they raced past the foot of the village.

The Tour de France is much more than just about the sport of cycling, a glimpse of the riders, the unreasonable endurance or - dare it be said - the seemingly ubiquitous drugs scandals.

It's also a living, breathing postcard of the country - televised live nationally for the whole length of each stage, transmitted internationally and followed throughout the world.

The official website has some pretty impressive stats which drive home just how much of an EVENT it is, and the passion and aura that surrounds it.

It apparently attracts annually between 12 and 15 million spectators, 80 per cent of whom are French and the rest from abroad. That's a lot of mouths to feed along the route and plenty of lolly for local businesses.

Last year each stage was not only broadcast live on national television - just as it is every year - but also transmitted to another 188 countries, 60 of which also carry the event live.

Over 2,000 journalists from 35 countries also come along for the ride for the duration of the three weeks.

The 98 editions (including the current one) of the Tour has visited over 500 different host towns and villages - talk about a wonderful commercial for the French countryside.

And so the list goes on.

Back to that 11th stage- a decade after the Tour had last made its way past Castelnau de Montmiral on its way to Lavaur.

Just a day before this usually quiet and lazy part of rural France had been basking in sun and enjoying temperatures of 34 degrees Celsius.

But overnight storms followed by a morning downpour and that infamous Vent d'Autan had left temperatures barely poking above 20 degrees.

The riders were expected shortly after 3.00pm (the local paper had said so) but already several hours ahead of time some faithful followers had braved the rain and wind and were waiting patiently.

And with good cause, because ahead of the race there was the Advertising Caravan, a procession of sponsors' vehicles that set off a good hour-and-a-half before the riders and got the spectators "in the mood" as it wound it way along the course.

A truck in the Advertising Caravan

The first obvious sign that the riders weren't far away came from a commentary car telling spectators that the race leaders were just behind, three-and-a-half minutes ahead of the peloton.

It was soon followed by a motorcade of gendarmes, television cameras on motorbikes, organiser's cars and those from some of the teams and hovering above was a helicopter.

It was clear the leaders weren't far behind.

And sure enough, there they were, the breakaway group of a handful of riders, flashing past and disappearing down the hill towards the nearby town of Gaillac.

The breakaway group arrives

But it wasn't over. Far from it.

The first helicopter had been joined by five others; some circling the village of Castelnau de Montmiral, broadcasting those aerial pictures for which the Tour television coverage is so famous, others keeping track along with their motorised colleagues of the progress of the peloton.

And there it was, the peloton, so distinctively familiar to anyone who has followed even a part of one stage of the Tour on the television.

Up close it was electric. As it approached, individual riders seemed lost in the general blur.

But there, just there for a split second was the yellow jersey of the current race leader, 32-year-old Frenchman Thomas Voeckler, tucked in behind the rest of his Europcar team.

The peloton with Thomas Voeckler in yellow

As it sped past followed by a stream of team cars, more motorbike cameramen and commentators, spectators cheered, just as they probably do throughout the whole of the around 3,600-kilometre Tour year in, year out.

The peloton on the way to Gaillac

Team cars

And then it was over.

The last few stragglers had vanished out of sight and for the local Montmiralais Montmiralaises continued live coverage of this year's Tour would have to be from the comfort of their sitting room.

But La Grande Boucle, as it's nicknamed in France, was of course far from being over.

The riders might have left behind them the village of Castelnau de Montmiral and be on their way to Lavuar via Gaillac, but this year's Tour still has another 11 days to go before it ends in Paris on July 24 on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées.

And those include mountain stages in both the Pyrénées and the Alps.

Albi's Pause Guitar festival line-up announced

If you're looking to attend an open-air concert in a spectacular location this summer then perhaps you need look no further than the southwestern French city of Albi.

Albi (from Wikipedia, author: Marion Schneider & Christoph Aistleitner)

The line-up for this year's Pause Guitar festival taking place July 7-10 has just been announced, and if you're a fan of the French music scene, then it's definitely the place to go.

All four of the acts nominated in this year's category of Best Newcomer at Les Victoires de la Musique, the French equivalent of the Grammys, are slated to appear; winners Lilly Wood & The Prick, Ben l'Oncle Soul, Camélia Jordana and Zaz.

Also performing at various venues throughout the city will be Joe Cocker, Philippe Katerine, Gaéten Roussel, Aaron, Cocoon and, and and...

Heck, if you want a full list of who'll be playing when and where, and you want to books tickets, head over to the festival's website and take a look around.

If (French) music ain't your thing then Albi has plenty more to offer.

It's the capital of the département of Tarn and just an hour's drive away from one of the country's largest cities, Toulouse.

Set on the river Tarn, it's architecturally stunning with a host of terra cotta brick buildings typical of the region, most notably the 13th century Sainte Cécile Cathedral.

Sainte Cécile Cathedral, Albi

Not to be missed either is the Palais de la Berbie which since 1922 has also housed a museum dedicated to the works of the city's most famous son, the painter Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa.

Last August the Episcopal City of Albi became a Unesco World Heritage site.

It includes the Cathedral, the Palais, the Pont Vieux - a stone bridge built in the 11th century and later clad in the characteristic red brickstone - as well as parts of the banks of the river Tarn.

Albi, river Tarn

Hunters turn rescuers as they save a man's life

Hunters often get what some might consider something of a bad rap here in France where the activity is, in many rural parts of the country, undeniably something of an institution.

If they're not "accidentally" killing the wrong animal such as Cannelle the bear then hunters might well be inadvertently shooting each other.

Not surprising perhaps as with over 1,350,000 registered hunters, France has by far the largest number of any European country with only Spain (almost one million), the United Kingdom (800,000) and Italy (750,000) coming close.

So it's good to come across a hunting story that entails saving a life rather than taking one - be it intentionally or by mistake.

On Saturday a party of hunters in the southwestern French département of Tarn became "saviours" rather than "destroyers" when they rescued a man.

Arifat cascade (screenshot from YouTube video)

The group from the village of Arifat had gathered in the forest to hunt deer but instead, according to the regional daily newspaper La Dépêche du Midi, heard cries of pain.

They were coming from a 39-year-old man

"He was groaning and lying on his back when I found him," the president of the club, Christian Valéry, told the newspaper.

"He told me he had fallen eight metres from a nearby cliff as he had been taking photographs of animals and hadn't been able to move for two days."

The hunters immediately switched mode and became rescuers as some of them went off to contact the emergency services - there was no mobile 'phone reception in the forest - while the others remained with the injured man.

He had broken his leg and pelvis and was suffering from hypothermia and dehydration after at spending two nights out in the open with temperatures dropping to minus 10.

It was, as one of the hunters said, a miracle that the man was discovered as the accident occurred in a remote part of the forest pretty much in the "middle of nowhere".

McDonald's withdraws blasphemous Happy Meal

Hamburgers and religion have proven to be a less-than-tasty combination here in France recently although they've certainly been making the news.

After the French fast food chain Quick sparked a row which took on political dimensions following its decision in November last year to take non-halal products and pork off the menu in eight of its 350 branches, McDonald's has found itself the target of criticism.

And at the centre of the controversy has been its Happy Meal for children, which has upset a Catholic priest in the southwestern département of Tarn, led him to call for a local boycott of the fast food giant and brought about a swift reaction and an apology from McDonald's itself.

It's not actually the food as such that has upset Xavier Cormary, the priest in the town of Saint-Suplice, although there are certainly those who would question its nutritional value and place within this country's cuisine. But that's quite another issue.

Instead it was the booklet that accompanied each meal and which contained a number of games and puzzles, one of which he and some of his parishioners found "bordering on the blasphemous".

The game in question shows a design, taken from the popular cartoon series and books for children, Kid Paddle, in which readers have to try to break a code to discover what a bishop is saying as he addresses a couple about to be married.

Harmless enough in the simple description perhaps, except the bishop, who along with the couple is drawn in the form of a misshapen potato, is holding a crucifix depicting Jesus as a frog, and his words, once the code is deciphered read, ""Do you accept to take Suzanne, here present, for dinner?"



Father Comary was incensed when he was made aware of the puzzle at the end of February and, being more than a little Internet-savvy, wrote exactly what he thought about it on his blog.

"Once again, the Christian faith is ridiculed," he wrote. "Marriage is violated, the bishop is mocked, and the crucifix is represented in a form that is offensive to beliefs that are at the heart of our Christian faith."

The 37-year-old didn't stop there though.

He called on parishioners to boycott branches of the fast food chain in the nearby towns of Gaillac and Lavaur, wrote directly to McDonald's France management and the publishers of the game and the original comic books.

And all to good effect it would appear, because according the local newspaper, La Dépêche, not only has he received an apology, but the booklet containing the game that had "caused offence" has been withdrawn.

Nathalie Febvre from McDonald's France customer services reportedly sent an email to the priest earlier this month in which she stressed there had been "no wish in any way to offend the sensibilities of its customers," and that "McDonald's would no longer be distributing Kid Paddle at its restaurants."

A slice of life in France - Castres in Tarn

Here's a teaser for a piece that'll be coming shortly about the town of Castres, in the southwestern département of Tarn in France.

It's a beautiful place with a medieval centre and although its heyday as a textile town is well past, it's certainly worth a visit.

Perhaps most well known today for its top flight rugby team Castres Olympique, it should also be awarded a medal for a having a local hairdressing salon with what surely have to be some of the most confused opening hours around.

The salon is in the centre of the town, and all that can be said perhaps is that the good people of Castres (the Castrais and Castraises) must have more than a great deal of patience trying to work out when the place is open*...or closed.

Either that or they simply go elsewhere to have their hair cut!



*For those of you who don't speak French, mardi is Tuesday, mercredi is Wednesday and so on until samedi (Saturday).

The place is closed on lundi (Monday).