In a radio interview during the week Dave Fanning spoke to the actor James Drury .For those who do not know , James Drury was the fellow who played the part of''' The Virginian '' in the TV series .The series ran for 10 years apparently and finished about 30 years ago . Drury , now 72 years of age , was in Ireland visiting his relatives , and was delighted to find that TG4 was running the programme 5 days a week .A great western show I remember it well I even forgave them giving old John Mc Intyre that dreadful wig . I also , by the way forgive , the owners of the Carlton Cinema ,for showing one episode of the TV show as a FIRST RUN film a few years before we in Ireland saw it on TV.In case there is no one else alive who knows about (or for that matter ..cares about )this con the episode was entitled 'The Brazen Bell' and the Carlton gave Lee J.Cobb the starring role....
What struck me about this , well- conducted , interview , was how much the actor seemed to have enjoyed making the show and his obvious pleasure in getting the opportunity to work with some of the great stars of the 'big screen ' , such as Bette Davis and Joan Crawford , who 'guested ' on the show over the years . He spoke about how much fun they had making it and how he missed his fellow actors , including of course Doug Mc Clure , who played the part of his pal ' Trampas ', who sadly passed away a few years ago.
I must now confess that I am a fan of the 'movies ' for over 60 years . I even remember the original 'black and white 'film of 'The Virginian ',starring Joel McCrea in the title role and Brian Donlevy as 'Trampas'.We have come through a time when we (filmgoers ) have become very cynical about the excesses of all those connected with Hollywood and the entertainment business generally , so it was great to hear an actor , who had given so much entertainment over many years , himself , acknowledging , his peers , his job , and his ongoing fame .
This interview was broadcast about a week after a similar one , this time with Myles Dungan asking the questions , with the actor John Mahoney (prounonced MaHONEy) . He played the 'Dad ' in 'Frasier'.He also said how much he enjoyed making the show , looking forward to going to work each day , of course the money that he made , which gave him freedom to act parts that he enjoyed doing , without money being a big priority ,which in turn , enabled Irish theatre goers to see him on stage in Galway .
Some years ago Larry Hagman (JR from 'Dallas') , talked in similar vein about how the cast of that show became almost an extended family and that helped them to present with straight faces such ridiculous and repetitive plots including 'Miz Ellie's' double head-transplant (Barbara Bel Geddes...Donna Reed....Barbara Bel Geddes ) and 'Bobbie's' resurrection for the 'dead' not just after 3 days but after 3 YEARS .And finally there was Jonathan Ross' interview with David Schwimmer visiting the UK after 'Friends 'finished its run very similar comments about teamwork and bonding which seemed very genuine.
So maybe instead of criticizing them or being envious of them we should give them a huge round of applause , thanks for all the fun ......
Before we leave Hollywood and bearing in mind the recent comments about cats n' dogs.Who remembers all the doggie stars...Rin Tin Tin...Lassie....Bullet (sorry ..Roy Roger's dog ) and how all of these animals were sooo brave and loyal...I honestly cannot imagine a CAT...limping back to the farmhouse , using its body-language to inform the 'folks' , that the hero/heroine is in dire peril in the old-abandoned-silver-mine........No . A cat , becoming aware of the plight of her meal-ticket ,would simply , yawn , stretch ,turn over ,go back to sleep , sending up a 'thought-bubble'''I wonder who's going to feed me tonight....Good-night
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
FAS
Hardly a week goes by now without some report or comment being issued by one of our quangos.Are they trying to remind us that they are all still there ?
The latest comments come from F.A.S.and are concerned with the looming unemployment prospects in this country .The following sentance was included ;''A significant migratory response should soften the blow of negative employment growth on unemployment.''
Translated from 'civil-service-eze'this seems to be saying 'Unemployed ?..If so , please get out of the country before we have to pay you Unemployment Benefit ! That way we can make sure that there is enough left in the 'pot' for our own pensions .'
All this sounds very familiar .
The latest comments come from F.A.S.and are concerned with the looming unemployment prospects in this country .The following sentance was included ;''A significant migratory response should soften the blow of negative employment growth on unemployment.''
Translated from 'civil-service-eze'this seems to be saying 'Unemployed ?..If so , please get out of the country before we have to pay you Unemployment Benefit ! That way we can make sure that there is enough left in the 'pot' for our own pensions .'
All this sounds very familiar .
Thursday, July 17, 2008
There is a river.....
Most people in Ireland have probably grown up near a river . It may have been a small river flowing through a town or a village but it provided a background to their childhood ,
We tend to take for granted the simple pleasures we enjoyed , free of charge , in and around our local river in our youth . It is often said , nowadays , that children in the past were somehow deprived not having TV ,sports clubs , swimming pools ,easy access to transport ...etc..
Remembering my own childhood in Dublin in the forties and early fifties there seemed not to be enough time in the day to do all the things we planned to do .
Summer was , of course , the time when our days were spent in the environs of the River Dodder . We roamed from the Nine Arches in Milltown to , what is now Bushy Park , but was known by us as Shaws Wood . Four or five or six of us , with a vague plan in mind of which area we would travel to , all above areas being within easy walking distance for ten or eleven-year-olds ,exploring , building 'dams' , fishing , playing football , even occasionally , finding time to swim , becoming our heroes -of the-day ,Tarzan , Jungle Jim , The Ghost Who Walks , Lash La Rue (that last being a cowboy , not a sado-masocistic-female-impersonator.) The Dodder was there all the time , always moving and always staying in the same place .
Each part of the River had its own attractions , one place was perfect for fishing for 'pinkeens' , minnow , sticklebacks , using our 'ingenious ' method of a disused wine-bottle ,leaving the cork in and knocking out the 'dimple' in the bottom...attach a string...leave as long as you wish in the sandy bottom of the river and hey-presto... the little fish swim in , cannot find their way out again through the 'dimple'....gotcha.... and then we carried them home in a jam-jar.
The deepest part , but still not VERY deep , was at Orwell Bridge , the bravest ones would actually jump off the parapet shouting something like 'GERONIMO ' and plunge into the depts , or the darkest part where a small stream flowed from under the road , this was the place for catching the lobster's freshwater cousin....creepy crayfish.
But there was another river we had seen when being treated to a visit to the City .The Liffey.Standing on Aston's Quay waiting for the bus to take us home following a Christmas Shopping trip , with our backs to the quay wall , collars turned up to stave off some of the sleet whipping in off the water , or sitting upstairs on the bus looking at the river feeling that we were moving and the Liffey was static .
The Liffey became as familiar to us as the Dodder , a familiar acquaintence if not quite a friend.As we grew older our visits to the Dodder decreased and our familiarity with the Liffey increased . The first-run cinemas were our goal , we could'nt wait for the new films to make their way to our local , it could take years;, stage shows , variety , gaming machines all became our attractions .
We eventually left Dublin and saw other rivers ,the Shannon was probably the first outside of our native city , not really homely , more like the sea in parts , the Lee of course . Now there is a river about which a lovely song was written , the words of whice are GUARENTEED to bring tears to the eyes of grown men and not just Corkmen...."where we sported and played neath' her green leafy shade ....etc"
I cannot think of a song about the Liffey , but she has been personified by James Joyce as Anna Livia Plura Bella , unfortunatly , in the not too distant past , some genius got the brilliant idea of trying to represent Anna in what was referred to as a modern sculpture , with long hair reclining in a fountain , soon to become 'dubbed' by the native Dubliners "The Floozie in the Jacuzzi " , she 's gone now unfortunatly not "gone before the're up"The flamboyant Oliver St.John Gogarty once presented Anna Livia with two swans as a gift for saving his life when captured by the IRA ,(its a long story .... ask Ulick O'Connor ). Incidentally , Dubliners have a tendancy to 'dub' all their 'new' bronze statues with typical Dublinese names , for example Molly Malone , with her wheelbarrow at the bottom of Grafton St. was renamed 'The Tart with the Cart',a statue of James Joyce himself on Nth.Earl St. became known as 'the Pratt with the Hat ' or even more irreverently 'the P..ck with the Stick'..
Of course we have now seen other rivers outside Ireland . We know these from our history and geography books....the Thames in London , familiar to us from Dickens and all the books and films since , the Hudson in New York , not really friendly , probably put in its place by all those skyscrapers , the Seine in Paris we have met but don't know at all , it must be the language barrier.., I even dipped my toes in the Rio Grande , another disappointment. , after all the westerns I'd seen , all I'd heard and read about this mighty river , I was easily able to toss a stone from Texas into Mexico.
Presently I find myself back near my old friend the River Liffey , a younger version , between Celbridge and Leixlip and she is being promised a facelift , and I am getting to know thr River Barrow as it flows along through Athy........
Finally on pollution....I believe that in spite of lazy careless farming ,greedy developers , incompetant planners , and dishonest politicians we are beginning to row back the tide of pollution in our rivers and streams and , in fairness , the new green politics is playing a major part in making us aware of the necessity of keeping our environment pure.....
We tend to take for granted the simple pleasures we enjoyed , free of charge , in and around our local river in our youth . It is often said , nowadays , that children in the past were somehow deprived not having TV ,sports clubs , swimming pools ,easy access to transport ...etc..
Remembering my own childhood in Dublin in the forties and early fifties there seemed not to be enough time in the day to do all the things we planned to do .
Summer was , of course , the time when our days were spent in the environs of the River Dodder . We roamed from the Nine Arches in Milltown to , what is now Bushy Park , but was known by us as Shaws Wood . Four or five or six of us , with a vague plan in mind of which area we would travel to , all above areas being within easy walking distance for ten or eleven-year-olds ,exploring , building 'dams' , fishing , playing football , even occasionally , finding time to swim , becoming our heroes -of the-day ,Tarzan , Jungle Jim , The Ghost Who Walks , Lash La Rue (that last being a cowboy , not a sado-masocistic-female-impersonator.) The Dodder was there all the time , always moving and always staying in the same place .
Each part of the River had its own attractions , one place was perfect for fishing for 'pinkeens' , minnow , sticklebacks , using our 'ingenious ' method of a disused wine-bottle ,leaving the cork in and knocking out the 'dimple' in the bottom...attach a string...leave as long as you wish in the sandy bottom of the river and hey-presto... the little fish swim in , cannot find their way out again through the 'dimple'....gotcha.... and then we carried them home in a jam-jar.
The deepest part , but still not VERY deep , was at Orwell Bridge , the bravest ones would actually jump off the parapet shouting something like 'GERONIMO ' and plunge into the depts , or the darkest part where a small stream flowed from under the road , this was the place for catching the lobster's freshwater cousin....creepy crayfish.
But there was another river we had seen when being treated to a visit to the City .The Liffey.Standing on Aston's Quay waiting for the bus to take us home following a Christmas Shopping trip , with our backs to the quay wall , collars turned up to stave off some of the sleet whipping in off the water , or sitting upstairs on the bus looking at the river feeling that we were moving and the Liffey was static .
The Liffey became as familiar to us as the Dodder , a familiar acquaintence if not quite a friend.As we grew older our visits to the Dodder decreased and our familiarity with the Liffey increased . The first-run cinemas were our goal , we could'nt wait for the new films to make their way to our local , it could take years;, stage shows , variety , gaming machines all became our attractions .
We eventually left Dublin and saw other rivers ,the Shannon was probably the first outside of our native city , not really homely , more like the sea in parts , the Lee of course . Now there is a river about which a lovely song was written , the words of whice are GUARENTEED to bring tears to the eyes of grown men and not just Corkmen...."where we sported and played neath' her green leafy shade ....etc"
I cannot think of a song about the Liffey , but she has been personified by James Joyce as Anna Livia Plura Bella , unfortunatly , in the not too distant past , some genius got the brilliant idea of trying to represent Anna in what was referred to as a modern sculpture , with long hair reclining in a fountain , soon to become 'dubbed' by the native Dubliners "The Floozie in the Jacuzzi " , she 's gone now unfortunatly not "gone before the're up"The flamboyant Oliver St.John Gogarty once presented Anna Livia with two swans as a gift for saving his life when captured by the IRA ,(its a long story .... ask Ulick O'Connor ). Incidentally , Dubliners have a tendancy to 'dub' all their 'new' bronze statues with typical Dublinese names , for example Molly Malone , with her wheelbarrow at the bottom of Grafton St. was renamed 'The Tart with the Cart',a statue of James Joyce himself on Nth.Earl St. became known as 'the Pratt with the Hat ' or even more irreverently 'the P..ck with the Stick'..
Of course we have now seen other rivers outside Ireland . We know these from our history and geography books....the Thames in London , familiar to us from Dickens and all the books and films since , the Hudson in New York , not really friendly , probably put in its place by all those skyscrapers , the Seine in Paris we have met but don't know at all , it must be the language barrier.., I even dipped my toes in the Rio Grande , another disappointment. , after all the westerns I'd seen , all I'd heard and read about this mighty river , I was easily able to toss a stone from Texas into Mexico.
Presently I find myself back near my old friend the River Liffey , a younger version , between Celbridge and Leixlip and she is being promised a facelift , and I am getting to know thr River Barrow as it flows along through Athy........
Finally on pollution....I believe that in spite of lazy careless farming ,greedy developers , incompetant planners , and dishonest politicians we are beginning to row back the tide of pollution in our rivers and streams and , in fairness , the new green politics is playing a major part in making us aware of the necessity of keeping our environment pure.....
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Cats 'n Dogs
People say that there are two types of individuals those who like cats and those who like dogs and never the twain shall meet . I must confess to being more a cat person that a dog one .But sometimes we (cat lovers ) , can be caught out . At sometime , as my children were growing up , at a weak moment , following continous pleadings , I must have rashly promised them that I would get a dog 'when I retired ',because a few days after officially informing them that I was taking early retirement I was reminded of my 'promise '.
So RUFUS made his appearence .Not only were we not very original in our choice of doggie names , we were not fussy about the choice of breeds . Rufus was described as a cross terrier , a nice way of saying a mongrel . I , being a cat person was well used to cats' independent ways ,i.e.''feed me , give me a warm bed and shelter and I MIGHT , repeat , MIGHT , decide to stay with you .'' This suited me fine .
But dogs are different . All I knew about dogs , to begin with was , one end barked and the other end s***ted .(I have since discovered the difference between big dogs and little dogs....big dogs bark louder and s**t bigger ).I soon found myself feeding , cleaning , walking , and generally looking after him .Dogs ,as far as children are concerned should be able to do all those things for themselves , just as cats (almost ) , do.Naturally I came to like him and when he was killed on the road a few years later , I missed my companion of my early retirement years .
Cats come and go , in both senses of the phrase , and don't appear to leave any physical marks behind them , but dogs leave all the accoutrements of their , dog-boxes , leads , chewed toys , scratched doors etc....So I promised myself.....no more dogs.!
A cat controls its 'owners' , can disappear for days at a time and one dare not ask WHERE WERE YOU .She ,because they are usually shes , ...takes up her usual place , near the fire , on your lap , on the sofa ...wherever is most confortable and secure .Dogs , and of course , children have no part in her life , unless they pay proper homage to her majesty .The cat ALLOWS you to pet her , but a dog BEGS you to. Dogs are famous for their loyalty , many stories are told of dogs fretting after the burial of their owner/master sometimes until the dog itself dies . Not so with cats , I have never read a tale of a cat sacrificing itself for its owner . No , one gets the impression that a cat will choose its next 'owner' at the wake of its former one .
Even when one goes on holidays a dog MUST be cared for constantly or put in an appropriate Kennel . A cat can pretty well look after irself with a minimum input from humans .
If a stranger comes to call , a dog ,after an initial round of barking will come begging for attention from the newcomer , but a cat will exit stage left at the first oppoptunity and disappear , not to be seen again until the visitor departs......and please don't ask me where I've been.
Finally in a competition between the two again the cat comes out best in a trice she can wind even the fiercest dog around her little paws just so that she can steal his food.....woof..woof,...miaow....miaow...let's paws for now....oh no wait a minute...I haven't told you about Max and Mickey..
Max is a fully grown jet black Labrador (dog , of course ) and Mickey is a young black male (we think ) cat .
Max thinks he is the boss and any time he spots Mickey , Max runs after him , barking ferociously...they disappear around the corner of a shed , Max in in close pursuit , Mickey running ahead , tail erect..from behind the shed comes sounds of , barking , mewling and scoffling .....then they come back into view ..except noe Max is running away , tail between his legs , ears down , whimpering ....and Mickey , the little cat , chasing him , spitting , hissing , fur standing to attention , all tooth and claw ....and the chase only ends when the CAT decides that the game is over.....
So RUFUS made his appearence .Not only were we not very original in our choice of doggie names , we were not fussy about the choice of breeds . Rufus was described as a cross terrier , a nice way of saying a mongrel . I , being a cat person was well used to cats' independent ways ,i.e.''feed me , give me a warm bed and shelter and I MIGHT , repeat , MIGHT , decide to stay with you .'' This suited me fine .
But dogs are different . All I knew about dogs , to begin with was , one end barked and the other end s***ted .(I have since discovered the difference between big dogs and little dogs....big dogs bark louder and s**t bigger ).I soon found myself feeding , cleaning , walking , and generally looking after him .Dogs ,as far as children are concerned should be able to do all those things for themselves , just as cats (almost ) , do.Naturally I came to like him and when he was killed on the road a few years later , I missed my companion of my early retirement years .
Cats come and go , in both senses of the phrase , and don't appear to leave any physical marks behind them , but dogs leave all the accoutrements of their , dog-boxes , leads , chewed toys , scratched doors etc....So I promised myself.....no more dogs.!
A cat controls its 'owners' , can disappear for days at a time and one dare not ask WHERE WERE YOU .She ,because they are usually shes , ...takes up her usual place , near the fire , on your lap , on the sofa ...wherever is most confortable and secure .Dogs , and of course , children have no part in her life , unless they pay proper homage to her majesty .The cat ALLOWS you to pet her , but a dog BEGS you to. Dogs are famous for their loyalty , many stories are told of dogs fretting after the burial of their owner/master sometimes until the dog itself dies . Not so with cats , I have never read a tale of a cat sacrificing itself for its owner . No , one gets the impression that a cat will choose its next 'owner' at the wake of its former one .
Even when one goes on holidays a dog MUST be cared for constantly or put in an appropriate Kennel . A cat can pretty well look after irself with a minimum input from humans .
If a stranger comes to call , a dog ,after an initial round of barking will come begging for attention from the newcomer , but a cat will exit stage left at the first oppoptunity and disappear , not to be seen again until the visitor departs......and please don't ask me where I've been.
Finally in a competition between the two again the cat comes out best in a trice she can wind even the fiercest dog around her little paws just so that she can steal his food.....woof..woof,...miaow....miaow...let's paws for now....oh no wait a minute...I haven't told you about Max and Mickey..
Max is a fully grown jet black Labrador (dog , of course ) and Mickey is a young black male (we think ) cat .
Max thinks he is the boss and any time he spots Mickey , Max runs after him , barking ferociously...they disappear around the corner of a shed , Max in in close pursuit , Mickey running ahead , tail erect..from behind the shed comes sounds of , barking , mewling and scoffling .....then they come back into view ..except noe Max is running away , tail between his legs , ears down , whimpering ....and Mickey , the little cat , chasing him , spitting , hissing , fur standing to attention , all tooth and claw ....and the chase only ends when the CAT decides that the game is over.....
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
A Week in Biarritz
We arrived in Biarritz just over two hours after leaving Dublin . On time and an uneventful journey . For once we disembarked from a Ryanair flight without having the desire to kick Michael O'Leary's ass . Biarritz a small homely airport , we picked up our luggage almost straight away , well to be honest , large pink suitcases , with flowery tie-ons , are hard to miss . We saw our hosts as soon as we passed through the customs area .
Jean and Bernard had kindly invited us to spend a week with them .I had only been to France once before , a wonderful week in Paris last year , my wife had been various times before and even had passable French .Jean spoke good English and Bernard speaks broken English but READS English with ease . I was the odd-man-out totally dependant on my three companions to communicate .On the one occasion when I was left alone and a young lady spoke to me I tried , in my best John-Wayne-French to explain that I did not speak the language....another missed opportunity.
Their apartment overlooks the beach (La Grande Plage on the Cote Basque).Our hosts had , literally , given up their beds to us , and we had post-card views from our bedroom balcony.Jean and Bernard apologised for the weather as if the 16c temperature instead of the usual 30c was their fault .But in fact as it turned out we saw much more of Biarritz , and surrounding areas of Bayonne and Anglet than we would have seen had the weather been very hot .Bernard said I missed the bikinis (and less ) on the beaches ...but there will always be time for that .
So we saw where the royalty of Europe played and prayed from the late 19th century to the beginning of the Second World War . The Palace that Napoleon III built for his Empress Eugenia , the Casino , strolling through the streets of Bayonne , the tiny Basque fishing villiage Le port des pecheurs (?) with a small (50?) population but retaining its old traditions , including an elected Mayor , amid the tourist bustle , the Bonnat Museum , with its paintings drawings and sculptures put together by Leon Bonnat between 1880 and 1900 including two Le (El)Grecos ,light and dark of ' Saint-Jerome ' and ' Le Duc de Benavente ' , we attended an evening of Basque Choral music in the church of Sainte Eugenie , not forgetting the seals showing off in Biarritzs' sea world , especially 'Charlie'.
We visited San Sebastian which is just over the Spanish border and is part of the Spanish Basque country .The mysterious Basques ,apparently the origins of their language ,traditions , even blood groupings and physique is a partial mystery .We drove to the railway station and straight in to a row with the ticket seller who refused to speak French to our hosts and whose attitude , at least as far as I could make out , was remeniscent of one of the aforesaid Ryanair' s more agressive staff members .Apparently the Basques do not get on too well with the French or the Spanish .
When we arrived in S. S. on the little train the weather was beautiful , we saw the bull-ring square surrounded by hundreds of numbered windows 5 or 6 stories high , unfortunately no bull fight on that day .Our meal at a Basque Restaurant in a small cobbled street turned out to be a European melting -pot . As I have said , our hosts were French , who spoke English ,I am Irish , my wife is English , although living in Ireland , we were in a Basque Restaurant , who were not the friendliest ,so.....my wife decides to order ....Spaghetti Bolonese.....in Italian...which she confused with French .....and all this happened in ....Spain.
It was a lovely day and we really enjoyed it .
On Sunday Jean and Bernard took us on a drive in the Basque area around Biarritz ,we visited St. Jean de Luz ,Espellette , Cambo-de-pays (?),we sampled local cheeses ,chocolate factories (Homer Simpson.....ummmmme....chooccoolate) , the famous Espelette little pepper...
We were sad to leave Biarritz and our generous hosts .....and a country that produces such lovely food ....we enjoyed our days of wine and cheeses...(was it De Gaulle ,who said something about trying to govern a country which produces 300 different types of cheese ?)....Au revoir
Jean and Bernard had kindly invited us to spend a week with them .I had only been to France once before , a wonderful week in Paris last year , my wife had been various times before and even had passable French .Jean spoke good English and Bernard speaks broken English but READS English with ease . I was the odd-man-out totally dependant on my three companions to communicate .On the one occasion when I was left alone and a young lady spoke to me I tried , in my best John-Wayne-French to explain that I did not speak the language....another missed opportunity.
Their apartment overlooks the beach (La Grande Plage on the Cote Basque).Our hosts had , literally , given up their beds to us , and we had post-card views from our bedroom balcony.Jean and Bernard apologised for the weather as if the 16c temperature instead of the usual 30c was their fault .But in fact as it turned out we saw much more of Biarritz , and surrounding areas of Bayonne and Anglet than we would have seen had the weather been very hot .Bernard said I missed the bikinis (and less ) on the beaches ...but there will always be time for that .
So we saw where the royalty of Europe played and prayed from the late 19th century to the beginning of the Second World War . The Palace that Napoleon III built for his Empress Eugenia , the Casino , strolling through the streets of Bayonne , the tiny Basque fishing villiage Le port des pecheurs (?) with a small (50?) population but retaining its old traditions , including an elected Mayor , amid the tourist bustle , the Bonnat Museum , with its paintings drawings and sculptures put together by Leon Bonnat between 1880 and 1900 including two Le (El)Grecos ,light and dark of ' Saint-Jerome ' and ' Le Duc de Benavente ' , we attended an evening of Basque Choral music in the church of Sainte Eugenie , not forgetting the seals showing off in Biarritzs' sea world , especially 'Charlie'.
We visited San Sebastian which is just over the Spanish border and is part of the Spanish Basque country .The mysterious Basques ,apparently the origins of their language ,traditions , even blood groupings and physique is a partial mystery .We drove to the railway station and straight in to a row with the ticket seller who refused to speak French to our hosts and whose attitude , at least as far as I could make out , was remeniscent of one of the aforesaid Ryanair' s more agressive staff members .Apparently the Basques do not get on too well with the French or the Spanish .
When we arrived in S. S. on the little train the weather was beautiful , we saw the bull-ring square surrounded by hundreds of numbered windows 5 or 6 stories high , unfortunately no bull fight on that day .Our meal at a Basque Restaurant in a small cobbled street turned out to be a European melting -pot . As I have said , our hosts were French , who spoke English ,I am Irish , my wife is English , although living in Ireland , we were in a Basque Restaurant , who were not the friendliest ,so.....my wife decides to order ....Spaghetti Bolonese.....in Italian...which she confused with French .....and all this happened in ....Spain.
It was a lovely day and we really enjoyed it .
On Sunday Jean and Bernard took us on a drive in the Basque area around Biarritz ,we visited St. Jean de Luz ,Espellette , Cambo-de-pays (?),we sampled local cheeses ,chocolate factories (Homer Simpson.....ummmmme....chooccoolate) , the famous Espelette little pepper...
We were sad to leave Biarritz and our generous hosts .....and a country that produces such lovely food ....we enjoyed our days of wine and cheeses...(was it De Gaulle ,who said something about trying to govern a country which produces 300 different types of cheese ?)....Au revoir
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