Friday, 14 August 2026
Extra Added Insulation
Thursday, 13 August 2026
There it Goes
Wednesday, 12 August 2026
Revisiting Saint Benoit du Sault
Once again we ended a lovely day trip into the Anglin Valley in the very attractive small town of Saint Benoit du Sault. We'd been here once before, on a wet day exactly twelve months before. This time it was stinking hot. It's very picturesque, well worth visiting and wandering around its medieval sandstone streets.
Tuesday, 11 August 2026
A New Pump for the Pompiers
As you can imagine our local fire fighters have been working very hard lately, and in Preuilly they are all volunteers. This summer is the first time in 20 years of living here that the wild fires have reached Australian levels. The other day I surfaced in the public swimming pool to observe them making a fountain of water on the other side of the river. I was too late to get a photo of the metres high jet, but here is a photo of them packing up. I was told they were testing a new pump.
Friday, 7 August 2026
Breakfast
Thursday, 6 August 2026
The New Normal
...and the situation near Bordeaux was this:
▪️ Resources deployed:
3,300 firefighters;24 aircraft;1,500 military personnel supporting operations;1,400 members of the internal security forces, including the deployment of 10 Centaure vehicles from the gendarmerie to prevent burglaries in evacuated areas.
▪️ Casualty figures:230 firefighters have been injured since the start of this crisis. No new serious injuries have been reported this evening.
▪️ Preliminary property damage assessment: 240 homes are still listed as destroyed. This figure may change as field assessments continue.
(From https://feuxdeforet.fr/en/gironde-33/saumos-22-07-2026-4367/)
Wednesday, 5 August 2026
Back to Basics
Tuesday, 4 August 2026
Who is This Saint?
Rather than a 'what is this thing?' I'm going for a 'who is this?' post.
This statue in the medieval church of Saint Martin in Prissac is clearly old and looked like it had potential to be interesting. I reckoned it was 17th century, but couldn't immediately identify the saint.
It turns out to be 15th century, so contemporary with much of the church decor, and represents Sainte Radegonde. She's a very common female saint to be featured in these parts, so I should have noticed that this nun was wearing a crown and guessed who she was. The statue has had quite a life but has been treasured in this church for centuries. Radegonde was a popular saint at the French Court, especially during the Hundred Years War, as Poitiers remained loyal to the French King and there are sites dedicated to her in several places from Tours to Poitiers. Charles VII was particularly attached to her cult and named his eldest daughter after her.
The statue was made by an unknown artist from stone and painted. She was restored in 2017. Anyone who knew her from before this date will barely recognise her. She used to be multicoloured, and I suspect, spent quite a few decades being mistaken for the Virgin Mary (due to the crown).
She came to the attention of the Regional Curator for Historic Monuments in the course of a major restoration project focused on the wall paintings in the church, which started in 2013. At that time she was in a very degraded state and restoration was recommended, although she was outside the scope of the original project.
Luckily, there was a qualified sculpture conservator, Delphine Bienvenut, who came from the village. The statue was sent to her workshop in Tours.
Sainte Radegonde de Poitiers was a Thuringian princess who married a Frankish king in 536. She died in Poitiers in 587 at the age of about 67. We spent a few days in Thuringia in June, around Wartburg. It's a small centrally located State in modern Germany, once part of the GDR (ie Communist East Germany). Radegonde set up her court in Poitiers and lived as a simple nun, known for her piety and humility. She was sanctified by popular acclaim very quickly after her death.
The Church of Saint Radegonde in Poitiers, where she is buried.
It's thought the sculpture was probably made from a single block of stone originally, but it is now divided into three pieces -- the head, the chest, and the rest of the body and arms. There would have originally been hands too of course, one holding either a sceptre or an abbess' cross. Each of these pieces have been joined at some point using wooden dowels about 2 cm in diameter.
Upon studying the sculpture the conservator discovered that there had been three layers of overpainting covering the first layer. The original paint scheme had been applied over a preparatory base coat of smooth white. The saint's gown was a layer of blue-grey applied very thinly to the preparatory coat. This coat is quite scrappy and slapdash, and is now almost impossible to separate from the layers above and below. The cloak is richly decorated with gold leaf and red lacquer. The crown is quite blingy and also covered in gold leaf, with elements of green and red lacquer. The rosy cheeks on the face are well done and seem well preserved. The eyes are green and the wimple is white.
The first layer of overpainting is strongly adhered to the layer below, making its removal practically impossible. In this layer the gown is a sombre grey-green, but the cloak has become azure blue, decorated with a gold motif. The crown was redone, but repeating the original, as was the face and wimple.
The second layer of overpainting was easy to remove. It had been applied in a slightly thicker coat. The colours are less contrasting, but of very good quality. The veil and cloak were painted in very dark green and the gown in an even more sombre shade of green, virtually black. The wimple was white and the crown ochre and gold. Once again the face has been nicely rendered, but the eye colour has been darkened.
A third layer of overpainting was then applied but it was poor quality and noticeably modified the appearance of the statue. It became a riot of clashing colour and I suspect mistaken at this point for the Virgin Mary.
The conservator opted to remove the most recent overpaint to reveal the finer details of the carving and colouring. She found that the statue was of very good quality, which given its appearance when she received it was a bit of a surprise. Personally, I'm a bit sad that due to the difficulty of taking the paint back to the earliest layer the sculpture has ended up very sombre, rather than the jewel like colours of the original.
Further reading: I wrote about the Chapelle Sainte Radegonde in Chinon some years ago and you can read it here https://daysontheclaise.blogspot.com/2021/09/chapelle-sainte-radegonde-chinon.html
Monday, 3 August 2026
Not a Chateau
Friday, 31 July 2026
The History of the Brand Family
Thursday, 30 July 2026
Homes for Bees and Wasps
Wednesday, 29 July 2026
Lean Times in Loches
The War years marked Loches, as they did the rest of the country, with deprivation and rationing. For buying staples, especially food, families were issued with ration cards. The quantities authorised, whether it be for bread, meat, pasta etc were dependent on gender, age and how physical your work was.
In the market in Loches prices soared. At the beginning of the War a dozen eggs cost 9 francs. Two years later they were 19 francs. It was the same for a kilo of butter, which went from 25 francs to 100 francs.
The restrictions didn't only affect food. Many products became difficult to obtain, such as coffee, heating fuel, shoes, tyres or clothes. To save electricity the opening hours of shops were limited. Lacking petrol, the vet did his rounds on horseback. Certain car and truck owners modified their vehicles to use charcoal gas.
France was suffering a severe lack of raw materials. In 1941 the authorities collected all the non-ferrous metal they could find (lead, copper, tin). The following year anyone who handed in 200g of copper was offered a litre of wine in recompense.
This lack of metal resulted in the loss of numerous works of art. In Tours, several statues, including a famous one of Balzac, were melted down. In 1943 it was announced that the statue of Alfred de Vigny in Loches must also be sacrificed. This news provoked an immediate emotional outburst by the general public. The locals decided to act, and in the early hours of 29 July the bronze sculpture by Sicard was discreetly lifted off its socle by workers from Deschamps Carpentry and transported to a troglodyte cave in rue de la Roche Appert, where, well hidden, it waited in total safety for the end of the War.
Tuesday, 28 July 2026
A Mystery Cross
Friday, 24 July 2026
Not What I Expected to See
Thursday, 23 July 2026
A Foreign Grotte
Wednesday, 22 July 2026
Les Telots
Another "what's that thing?" from Autun. You can't miss them, two almost perfectly conical hills rising from nowhere. It's instantly obvious what they are, not so obvious the cause.
These are the Les Télots spoil heaps. Autun sits on a large oil shale deposit which by 1837 was being exploited for gas for public lighting. The Les Télots concession was granted in 1865, and production of shale oil gas started in 1881. The refinery constructed an oil distillation plant in 1936, employing several hundred workers who produced automotive fuel. Following closure in 1957, the site was dismantled and partially demolished. Remains of the installations (ruins) and these two large spoil tips still mark the landscape, overgrown with particular vegetation studied for its biodiversity. Les Télots is recognized as a natural zone of ecological, faunistic, and floristic interest (ZNIEFF).
Tuesday, 21 July 2026
Firebox
Monday, 20 July 2026
What to do on Sunday
Friday, 17 July 2026
Wear Your Helmet!
Yesterday's photo was taken on my bike ride yesterday morning. It was only a short ride, partly because it was starting to get warm again, and partly because I'd only gone out to take that photo.
What I didn't say is that I was in such a rush to take the photo and get home to publish it in time that I managed somehow to get my foot tangled in the bike as I dismounted. I landed with an almighty bang, mainly on the back of my head. This ended up with me under the bike and quite puzzled about how I was going to escape. After lying there for a minute or so I collected my thoughts, wriggled my way out, took the *#@*'!! photo and rode home.
Total damage was a bloody and slightly swollen elbow, a bit of gravel rash on my back, and a mashed helmet.
It's annoying, because it's a new helmet bought a week ago to replace my 25 year old helmet, but it could have been a lot worse.
Tomorrow I'll be calling in to Action, and buying another helmet because I've proven that they work. And I promise I'll always wear it
Thursday, 16 July 2026
Wednesday, 15 July 2026
Work (Not) in Progress
Tuesday, 14 July 2026
Not Normal Service Resumed
Friday, 10 July 2026
Track Inspector's Draisine
Here's a "what's that thing" that surprised me and it's a real curiosity: a zoomorphic track inspector's draisine from about 1845. I can't quite work out how you balance it on rails, maybe you always keep your feet on the ground? Why didn't they put another wheel on the other track? Wolf or dragon? So many questions.
The word "draisine" traces back to Karl Drais, the German inventor whose 1817 pedestrian "Laufmaschine" — pushed along by foot, with no pedals — became an unexpected fashion craze in Paris and London under the name vélocipède or dandy horse. The fad faded within a few years, but the name stuck.
The rail version came later and separately: in 1837, Franz Aloys Bernard in Vienna adapted the draisienne concept to run on rails. Both the road and rail versions honor Drais's name, even though the rail draisine was really a different invention built for a different purpose — track inspection and maintenance rather than recreation. In French all track inspection and maintenance rail vehicles are still called draisines.
Thursday, 9 July 2026
A Pochette
Wednesday, 8 July 2026
The Pyramid of Couhard
As we were driving into Autun two weeks ago we literally had a "what's that thing?" moment when we spotted something on top of a hill. The next day we drove up the hill to investigate.
What we had seen was the Pyramid of Couhard, also known as the Pierre de Couhard, a Gallo-Roman monument likely marking the tomb of a wealthy or prominent citizen of Augustodunum. Rising in a sort of pyramidal form, it was built using a core of rubble and mortar, and originally faced with cut stone. Much of the cut stone has eroded away over the centuries, leaving the rough inner masonry exposed. It stood within a larger necropolis that once extended along the slopes of the area, though most other traces of that burial ground have since disappeared.
The pyramid's unusual shape sets it apart from typical Roman funerary architecture in the region, prompting long-standing debate about its exact function and inspiration. This puts it on equal footing to the more local (to us) Cinq-Mars-la-Pile.
Tuesday, 7 July 2026
Canal Sans Eau
A second "what's that thing?"
When we were travelling to Germany we spent a night in Troyes so we could visit the stained glass museum - we'd missed it in 2023 on our way up to Amsterdam.
I booked a Premiere Classe hotel just south of Troyes in an industrial area in the village of St Thibault. Looking at it on the map I spotted something. It needed investigation.
The Canal de la Haute-Seine was built in the 19th century to link Troyes with the wider French waterway network, and it had a short, difficult existence. Its planned extension upstream from Troyes toward Bar-sur-Seine was meant to eventually connect with the Canal de Bourgogne, but it was never finished, leaving a stretch known locally as the "canal sans eau" (canal without water). At Saint-Thibault, the unfinished Villebertin lock is a relic of this abandoned ambition.
As you can see, it's incongruous.
Monday, 6 July 2026
The Landungsbrücken Pegelturm
I may have to start a new series of blogs called "what's that thing".
The Landungsbrücken Pegelturm, part of Hamburg's St. Pauli Landungsbrücken pier complex, is a tower which features a striking green copper dome and a clock. It also has a numerical display to measure and show the Elbe River's water level. It was constructed in the early 20th century and is a recognizable landmark along the harbor promenade. The tower historically served a practical maritime function: sailors and dockworkers relied on its readings to track tides and navigate the busy Port of Hamburg safely, since the Elbe is tidally influenced despite being a river. Today, the tower is attached to what is a rather good restaurant serving traditional German brewhouse food: appropriately, because it's Hamburg's only brewery.
We had a good (and, huge) lunch there, and it wasn't until we were leaving the restaurant I noticed the tidal gauge.
Friday, 3 July 2026
Planning a Route
When I need to go somewhere I check the "Places to visit" folder on my phone and check what I might be passing on the way. I then sketch out a route, plotting deviations to interesting places along the way. For instance: Joigny was not too far from the route I was plotting to Hamburg, so my route was tweaked to make it a point of interest and lunch stop. I then split the route into daily sections of not too far.
So that we don't deviate too far from the plan, I then bookmark overnight stays, lunch stops, and waypoints. These might be picnic areas, motorway junctions, points of interest, or public toilets that get good reviews. These get plotted as lat/long into the madwoman in the dashboard (the GPS in the Cactus) as and when they're needed. As the maps in the car are now 5 years out of date, this is important. We occasionally find ourselves on roads the car doesn't know about, and this could lead to serious gettinglostedness if not planned on an up to date map.
Then it's just a case of following orders (except when I don't) and not making too many "Hey! There's a brown sign, let's follow it" decisions. We usually manage to restrict ourselves to one or two of those a day. The only time this fails is roadworks: we then follow deviation signs until we're either back on our planned track, or the car GPS comes up with a better idea.


















































