Verdant Preuilly

I am amazed. After a week of extreme temperatures (we're talking temperature not dropping much below 24°C, or 75° in the old money) Preuilly-sur-Claise is looking really green.

We've had some storms the past 2 days, but I wouldn't have thought it was enough to freshen everything up this much. Of course, it helps that the first photo is taken on the river.

These photos were taken on a 3km walk yesterday morning. I'm pleased to discover that my walking strength appears to be returning, at last.

Added Insulation

Although we now have double glazing on all our windows, we don't have shutters on a couple of them. This means that although outside heat doesn't make it into our house, direct sunlight through windows can cause a rapid increase in temperature. This is called solar gain and is not a good thing.

In 2019 I wrote about hanging my old beach towel over the back door, an approach that works well, and which we still use. This still leaves the problem of the windows in the kitchen.

I now have a new approach, which involves aluminium kitchen foil. All you need do is tear off a suitable length of tinfoil, wet the back of it, and apply to the outside of the glass. And that's it. Works superbly, and if you're a little careful you can remove the foil at night and reuse it time and time again. The water tension holds the foil in place in even quite high winds.

Even this slipshod application was massively effective, but by the time I had got outside I had already spent too much time in the heat, and couldn't be bothered making it look good.

Of course, as soon as I worked this out it has cooled down for a couple of days, but I have no doubt I'll be applying it again within a week.

Autobahn

While we're suffering from the heat (42°C is enough to stop all activity) I thought I'd look back at our recent holiday, starting with some reflections on driving on the Autobahn:

Of all the things that concerned me a month ago, top of the heap was how I would cope driving on a road where everyone is doing a million billion kilometres an hour. I need not have worried.

Despite their reputation, our experience of the Autobahn is that people tend to drive at between 110 and 120 kilometres an hour. This is slower than their French counterparts on the Autoroutes, and comes without the obligatory French tailgating and cutting in. We saw a couple of high speed heroes, but we usually caught them up at the next traffic jam. I was only hooted at once for not getting out the way quickly enough (i.e. not cutting up a truck), and that was by a Belgian car. Otherwise it appears to be that the slower cars hold the moral high ground.

The place where the French roads score is road surface: some of the Autobahns had decidedly ropey surfaces, lane closures, contraflows, and there were a lot of roadworks. Many of the roads we travelled were only two lanes each way, with trucks restricted to the right lane. This meant that if we wanted to just cruise along we tucked in behind a truck doing our preferred speed and stayed there.

They are boring, though. Real concentration is necessary to avoid drifting off, especially when it's hot and there's nothing to look at besides the road surface.  Although good road surfaces were pretty rare, so even then there was quite a lot to look at.

One novelty we encountered was the electric highway system. We travelled beneath the wires on the experimental stretch just south of Lubeck. Unfortunately we didn't see any vehicles using it, so you'll have to content yourself with this video.

The Tree(s) of Jesse

Because I did a lot of research before our recent Jaunt up to Germany I was able to plan in a number of surprise stops for Susan.

The Tree of Jesse is one of Christian art's most enduring images — a genealogical tree rising from the belly of sleeping figure of Jesse, father of King David, bearing the ancestors of Christ upon its branches, crowned by the Virgin and Child. There are Trees of Jesse all over the place, including two in Issoudun that Susan wrote about eleven years ago.

We stopped in Joigny for lunch, but also so we could look at a 16th-century (1530) half-timbered house which has a Tree of Jessie on its wooden façade, with sinuous branches spreading up to the triangular gable, adorned with grape clusters and fifteen figures.

In Troyes, the Cité du Vitrail (stained glass) museum has a 16th-century Tree of Jesse from Laines-aux-Bois as a centrepiece of its collection.

They're like London buses. You wait ages for one, then two come along at once.

Home to the Heat

We arrived home at about 5pm on Monday evening, and home was like an oven - close to 40°C. Sleeping was difficult, the minimum temperature overnight was 26°C, which is far too hot to sleep properly. At midnight last night it was 30°.

Yesterday we got 42 ° at about 6pm, and one again it didn't really cool down overnight. It doesn't look like we're getting real relief any time soon.

The weather has been described as a "widespread, lasting and intense" heatwave. Hundreds of heat records were broken yesterday, with temperatures exceeding the 43°C mark. It was the hottest day ever recorded in France since records began in 1947.

Météo-France announced that 58 departments will be on heatwave red alert today, four more than yesterday.

I'm starting to miss the cold and drizzle of Hamburg.

The Great Flood

Because we are surrounded by rivers, including major ones like the Creuse, this area has been subject to some significant flooding over the centuries. One such was the flood of 23 June 1848, which prompted Charles Mourault to compose a poem and inscribe it on a stone in a wall overlooking the river at Baratière, a hamlet outside of Yzeures sur Creuse. Here's my rough translation.

 

The Creuse at Baratière.

 

"Here is where the dreaded scourge stopped that God made us go through in these deplorable days. The water rose without end and everyone left their refuge. Which in that moment look like islands. The fertile plain, the most precious treasure, offers us nothing more than the shadow of death. The people gather on this sad shore, lamenting their fate, saying what slavery. The river ressembled the foaming sea which in its expanse had become so threatening. Oh peoples who are the successors of this century may God protect you from such a great misfortune."

 

Flooding like this is relatively rare, but when it comes, causes significant damage. Nowadays the municipalities involved will declare a disaster (Fr. catastrophe) and everyone affected is guaranteed cover by their insurance.

Thanks to Bruno Guitton who showed me the inscription, and to Alain Chartier who sent me a transcription and details of the inscription's date and author.

2026 Holiday Day 20

Autun - Preuilly-sur-Claise 

A strange day full of bittersweet memories.

Our accommodation in Autun was a convent that is now a retirement home - that rents out appartements.

Autun has a lot of very old buildings. Even if the facade looks newish.

The church is enormous and obvious.

More Burgundian roofs. This was the military college.

We stopped for a roadside picnic lunch, but it was so hot (40°) that we sat in the car. My dad loved custard tarts, so this was the obvious choice of dessert.

Distance travelled 316km, Cumulative totals: