Thursday, 30 April 2026
Charnizay's Mass Dials
Tuesday, 28 April 2026
A Walk on the Eperon Barre de Murat
The Eperon Barré de Murat is a ridge of limestone (Fr. tuffeau jaune) topped by a plateau at about 120 metres above sea level. This site, frequented by Mankind since the Neolithic was formed by the confluence of the valleys of the Brignon and the Larçon. It is a well known site for wild orchids and the habitat they require is maintained by a flying flock (Fr. troupeau itinerant) of grazing sheep. The calcareous grasslands shelter a number of insects, such as cicadas (Fr. cigales) and the Large Blue butterfly (Fr. papillon Azuré du serpolet) which require dry sunny places.
Tassel Hyacinth Muscari comosum (Fr. Muscari à toupet).
Two ancient defensive walls, called a vallum, are still visible at the narrow end of the site. They served to protect and 'bar' access to a prehistoric settlement.
There were lots of caterpillars of the localised and increasingly rare Small Eggar moth Eriogaster lanestris (in French the caterpillars are called la Laineuse du cerisier).
The site is managed by the Conservatoire d'Espaces Naturels Centre Val de Loire.
Small Heath butterfly Coenonympha pamphilus (Fr. Procris).
Earlier this month Simon and I did the 3.5 km circuit around the site so I could check the progress of the orchid flowering season. It was a hot sunny day in the mid-twenties temperature wise, and about half the walk is not shaded. Just to warn you -- this is a hot site much of the year, so take water to drink. We took about an hour to get around and saw 5 species of orchid in flower. Unbeknownst to me, my friend François, who is an ecologist for the Conservatoire, was also there that day. He bagged an extra species of orchid, damn him...
Downy Oak Quercus pubescens (Fr. Chêne pubescent).
Lady Orchid Orchis purpurea (Fr. Orchis pourpre).
View looking north-east from the vallum.
Violet Fritillary Boloria dia (Fr. Petite violette).
Narrow-leaved Helleborine Cephalanthera longifolia (Fr. Céphalanthère à feuilles étroites).
The uncommon Green-underside Blue butterfly Glaucopsyche alexis (Fr. Azuré des cytises).
A number of Early Spider Orchids Ophrys sphegodes (Fr. Ophrys araignée) lurking about in the grass.
Further Reading: https://espacesnaturels.touraine.fr/eperon-de-murat.html (page for the nature reserve, in French).
Monday, 27 April 2026
What to do About a Swarm of Honey Bees
The answer is short and simple: contact a beekeeper immediately and they will come and collect the swarm. A beekeeper in France is an apiculteur. You can find contact details for dozens in your area by doing a simple internet search.
The sooner they are collected the better, for their own well-being, and for yours. If they are collected promptly it protects them from being caught out in bad weather (cold and/or wet), which is not uncommon in spring. It also gives them less time to become settled in an inappropriate new home, like your chimney or behind your shutters.
Swarming bees can sound and look alarming, but they are not really a threat to you. They are concentrating on protecting their queen, and finding a new home. Leave them alone and you will find that they will just peacefully attach themselves to a branch and hang there for some hours in a clump huddled around the queen to keep her warm. Scouts will come and go on their mission to find a new home and report back, but they can be safely ignored by you. Don't delay in calling a beekeeper to relocate the swarm though.
The second of two honey bee swarms I saw on 17 April this year. This one was on the Eperon Barré de Murat Nature Reserve where we walked that afternoon. The first was in our neighbour's garden, while we were having lunch in ours.
Honey bee colonies in the Touraine Loire Valley tend to be splitting up and on the move ie swarming from April to June. On Friday, coming back from the dentist, I drove into a swarm on the move between Ferrière Larçon and La Celle Guenand. A few unfortunately splatted on the windscreen. Somewhat disconcerting.
Friday, 24 April 2026
Fantastic Mr Fox
Signs have gone up in the Forêt de Preuilly featuring a red fox, no doubt called Renard, who is instructing visitors to pack their rubbish out. There are no bins and Renard says 'Remportez vos déchets !'.
And in case you were wondering, the Roald Dahl story and later Wes Anderson movie Fantastic Mr Fox is called Fantastique Maître Renard in French.
Wednesday, 22 April 2026
Garlic
Tuesday, 21 April 2026
The Car Park at Chenonceau
Monday, 20 April 2026
ANZAC Biscuits
Since we are coming up to ANZAC Day, when Australians remember their war dead, on 25 April, I thought I would post a recipe for ANZAC biscuits today. These are delicious.
I copied the recipe from the back of a bag of flour, and it comes from the Country Women's Association, so it is the 'official' recipe. (In the UK the equivalent of the CWA is the Women's Institute, but I have no idea what the North American or French equivalents are.)
ANZAC Biscuits
Makes 50
Ingredients
1 cup plain flour
1 cup caster sugar
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup dessicated coconut
125g butter
1 tbsp golden syrup
2 tbsp boiling water
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
Method
- Preheat oven to 180°C and lightly grease oven trays.
- Combine flour, sugar, rolled oats and coconut.
- Melt butter and golden syrup.
- Add bicarb to boiling water and mix into butter mixture.
- Stir into the dry ingredients.
- Form the dough into large marble sized balls and drop onto trays, allowing generous room for spreading.
- Bake for 10 minutes until light golden brown.
- Cool on tray for 5 minutes before transferring to a rack to cool completely.
Friday, 17 April 2026
No Post Today
Wednesday, 15 April 2026
The New Website
Tuesday, 14 April 2026
Oops a Daisy!
Friday, 10 April 2026
Springtime in the Forest
Thursday, 9 April 2026
First Visit to the Touraine (20th Anniversary)
This is part two of our search for a house, exactly twenty years ago. After the disappointment of having the offer for a house we weren't sure about turned down, I was anxious to get back on that horse.
April 9–12, 2006
The second trip happened while Susan was in Australia visiting her parents. She was at Ayers Rock, and I decided that it was time to test the waters again. I rang my mate, Bryan the Artist, and asked if he was interested in a trip. This time we were going to Loches in Indre et Loire.
Bryan lives in Cockermouth (oop north), so we arranged that he would drive to Stansted Airport, and we would fly to Paris together, driving from there. The flights, hotel and car were booked – then the French Air Traffic Controllers went on strike and all flights were cancelled.
This was a problem, because Bryan had a meeting the next week he couldn't miss. Luckily a window opened, and we arranged to fly out on the Sunday and back on the Wednesday. This would allow us time to visit the market in Loches on Wednesday. Bryan was flying from Durham with BMI, and I was flying from Heathrow with BA.
Amazingly, both flights were on time, and we even managed to meet up in the agreed place. Car hired, we hotfooted it around Paris in the rush hour, spending a lot of time following a circus van carrying an alligator. We found a hotel in Amboise (eventually) where one or two beers were partaken of before bedtime.
The next day it was, as on the previous trip, a parade of uninspiring properties, albeit with some amazing views and interesting signs in between, including Valencay and a threatening set of clouds. Although we were getting fairly hungry for lunch (Monday and all the shops and restaurants being closed), we weren't tempted to have burgers.
Storm clouds near Valencay
I was pretty dispirited by the houses I had seen so far. There were places being advertised on the internet that looked promising, but once again they had been sold the day before I arrived in France.
It appears that some people arrive in the country and simply make an offer without any kind of survey. Susan and I had always intended to have any house we were really interested in surveyed properly before making an offer. We weren't going to buy somewhere on a whim only to find later it was structurally unsound – or needed a new roof.
Luckily, a good dinner and a digestif restored my faith, and the views of the chateau and old town of Loches are enough to restore anyone's spirit.
The House at St Jean de Sauves
Loches and our hotel
Angel Food at the Gerbe d'Or
Lettuces in Loches
On the way home we visited the gardens (well – the car park) at Chenonceaux, then retraced our route to Charles de Gaulle airport. Once again it was rush hour and it felt like we were going to miss every turn while trying to find somewhere to fill the car with fuel.
Absolute bedlam, and I vowed never again to fly into Paris. Bryan didn't miss his flight, although I'm not sure how, and I was four hours early for mine.
Simon
A lot has changed since this trip. The Gerbe d'Or has changed hands a couple of times before becoming Abore et Sens. "Our hotel" has also changed hands and reopened as “Le George”, and is much improved.
What hasn't changed is the market, which has become a not quite regular part of our lives. Susan received an email in the Northern Territory with the lettuce photo saying “we must live here”. It amused her then, and it's a story she still tells.
You may find the photos slightly disappointing – digital cameras weren't all they are now.
Wednesday, 8 April 2026
What the Heck is That?!
Any minute now bizarre lumbering irridescent black beetles will be appearing in woods and grasslands in the Touraine Loire Valley. These are the ranunculus munching oil beetles. They like buttercups and wood anemones, which they eat so they can accumulate their toxins. It makes the beetles themselves toxic, and their larvae, which you might spot sitting on flowers, trying to hitch a lift on a bee. Once their ride has arrived they get transported into the bee's nest, and will feed on the pollen gathered by the bees for their own larvae.
Violet Oil Beetle. This one was photographed a few years ago at the Moulin de Malicorne in the Courtineau Valley.
Nine times out of ten they will be Violet Oil Beetle Meloe violaceus (Fr. Méloé violet). I know, I counted my records. But occasionally I will see a Black Oil Beetle Meloe proscarabeus (Fr. Méloé printanier). Their alternative name in French is 'enfle-boeuf' ('swollen beef'), because as ancient texts mention, if they are accidentally ingested by grazing animals the toxins in the beetle will cause the beast to swell up, possibly even to the point of death.
Black Oil Beetle. They are so similar to M. violaceus I usually have to ask for expert help to confirm the species.
Because they are parasites I sometimes get asked if we should kill oil beetles if we see them, to help the bees. My response is NO!! The presence of parasites is a good sign for the host. It means the population is sufficient to support parasites -- who are not out to kill the entire population, because that would be depriving them of their own food. Monitoring parasites can be a good way of extrapolating information about hosts. If both are in decline then that's a problem -- and that is the case with this pairing. In addition, you don't want to kill a native species going about its business. The higher the biodiversity ie the higher the number of species, the more stable the ecology is. Everything is linked, and specialist species like the oil beetles are the keys to a well functioning natural system.
Tuesday, 7 April 2026
Who Knew What the Wallpaper Would Tell Us?!
The other day we had lunch at Restaurant l'Image, just around the corner from where we live. Sections of the wall in the bar are covered with old nicotine stained wallpaper. It features couples in military uniforms dating from at least a decade earlier than I estimate the wallpaper was printed. Mathieu, the owner, reckons the wallpaper is original to when the building first became a bar, hotel and restaurant in the 1880s. But apart from that he didn't know anything else about it.
'Infantry Regiment of the Line
Valor and Discipline
23rd Brigade'
So I decided to do a bit of research. A rummage through the online archive of the Musée du Papier Peint in Rixheim didn't reveal an exact match, but it was clear that stylistically the wallpaper dates from the 1880s or 90s.
'Regiment of the Imperial Guard
Cavalry
3rd Squadron quartered at Nevers
Company ?? the Emperor'
Members of this regiment are Elite Gendarmes, sarcastically nicknamed The Immortals by the rest of the army, because they rarely saw active combat. Their role is security for high-ranking officials and major towns (and today their equivalent is most visible internationally as the police* motor bike escort for the Tour de France cycle race and the Guard at the Elysée Palace, the official residence in Paris of the President of the Republic).
Then I discovered the Images d'Epinal, an enormous range of popular illustrations produced by a 19th century printing firm in Epinal. I'd never heard of them before, but they are iconic, collectible and easy to recognise. I've certainly seen them before without knowing they had a name. Their main output was postcards (and I assume, cigarette cards), but they did posters, illustrated stories and paper dolls too. They also spawned several imitators, so the wallpaper is 'in the style of' the original Images d'Epinal.
'The Emperor of the French Advance 27th Dragoon Regiment
Colonel the Duke of F?
Shining, youth, ?? '
One of their best known themes was military scenes and uniforms, particularly of the Napoleonic era. They helped spark a wave of patriotism and pride in the French military at several points during the 19th century. The soldiers in their illustrations were always depicted in immaculate and scrupulously correct uniforms, looking dashing and often performing heroic acts. The illustrations on this late 19th century wallpaper are deliberate nostalgia. But rather than being from the time of Napoleon I, they show military uniforms from the time of his nephew, Napoleon III, who reigned from 1852 to 1870. Romantically, the wallpaper shows couples - a male soldier, and a female cantinière, in their respective uniforms. In real life army regulations required that a cantinière was married to a soldier in the regiment that she served in.
You can see the nicotine staining very clearly in this photo.
Cantinières are combat auxiliaries associated with the French army for centuries up to the First World War. Mostly their role was unofficial, but their heyday was during the Second Empire, right at the time this wallpaper depicts. During that period they were an acknowleged part of a regiment, with a uniform and the right to march with the troops in parades. Their job was to provide sustenance, to make sure the soldiers were kept supplied with sufficient nutritious food to stay fighting fit. Unofficially they also provided nursing and first aid. They set up their tents (canteens) anywhere that their regiment was, including at the front line. As well as meals and drinks they might also provide other essentials such as stationery for writing home, tobacco, and just a nice warm friendly place to take a break, especially in the days when the regiment advanced rapidly and soldiers were forced to leave their personal tents behind.
Cantinières carried a tonnelet (small barrel) of brandy on a strap over their shoulder. This was their trademark and made them easily identifiable. They were business women, independent of their soldier husband, and undertook to buy and sell provisions as the regiment performed their military duties, either from barracks or on campaign. Some cantinieres carried muskets and were perfectly prepared to fight as well as cook.
These women became icons of popular culture, and from the mid-19th century, when brands and advertising in the modern sense were being invented, idealised cantinières were frequently deliberately associated with comestible products. This indicates that the public view of the cantinières was positive, the idea being that these women were experts in nutritious, wholesome victuals. Even so they were sometimes inauthentically depicted in advertising wearing long skirts and riding side saddle, in order to avoid any accusations of unladylike behaviour.
In modern times, if people have heard of cantinières, there is almost always the assumption that they were camp following prostitutes. However, there is no evidence that this was the case, and if they had been it is the sort of thing that would have been commented on at the time.
Further reading: The great expert on French cantinières is the American historian Thomas Cardoza, so if you are interested in the subject then seek out his book Intrepid Women.
Note that in English these women are generally referred to by the old French term for them which is vivandières. For practical purposes in French the two words are interchangeable, but the term vivandière may have been dropped because it was seen as being associated with the Ancien Regime (Bourbon rule) and the term cantinière is associated with the Napoleonic Empires.
*Yes, I know that the Police and the Gendarmes are two different organisations in France, but for practical purposes the Gendarmes act as the Police in anglophone countries would in this situation.
Monday, 6 April 2026
God's Feet
There is Camembert and there is Camembert. Or more precisely there is Camembert and Camembert de Normandie. The poet and gourmet Léon-Paul Fargue, writing in the first half of the 20th century referred to 'Camembert, the cheese that smells like God's feet'. He was doubtless referring to good artisanal farmhouse Camembert, as industrial Camembert often smells of nothing at all.
Farmhouse Camembert that adheres to all the rules has to be 50% milk from Normande cows pastured in Normandy, unpasturised, made in Normandy (the départements of Orne, Manche, Calvados, Eure and Seine-Maritime), and created by carefully hand ladling the curd into the moulds to drain in four separate stages. To distinguish it from the ubiquitous industrial stuff, the artisanal cheese is called Camembert de Normandie and has an AOP. Some of the industrial producers where allowed to 'cheat' and label their product 'Fabriqué en Normandie' to fool consumers not paying attention, but this is no longer allowed.
Around 170 000 tonnes of Camembert is made in France, of which 100 000 tonnes comes from Normandy, and 10 000 tonnes is made from raw milk. It takes two litres of milk to make one Camembert cheese.
The cheese is named after a village in Orne, which is said to be where it was first made. The story goes that a priest from the Ile de France fleeing the Revolution was sheltered by a young dairymaid. To reward her he gave her the recipe for the Brie that his abbey made. In this new location, with different milk and different local fungi, Camembert was created. Camembert is made in much smaller rounds than Brie too. Brie is a cheese you buy triangles of, Camembert you buy whole. The downy white rind is a penicillin mutation, and has been favoured for commercial and aesthetic reasons. Customers are less attracted to the blotchy cheese that a standard penicillin would give.
To make the cheese the milk is semi-skimmed then innoculated. The gentle ladle by ladle filling of the moulds means that small air holes are present between the layers. This is a sign of quality. The moulds are allowed to drain for twenty hours then the cheeses are tipped out and coated with fungal spores and salt. They are left to mature for a minimum of 21 days.
The finished cheese will be a thick disk weighing 250 grams and with just 4% fat. The downy crust is lightly marked by the straw lined racks the cheese has been sitting on to ripen. The cheese should give a bit when pressed but should not run when cut (unlike Brie). Inside it should be pale yellow, sometimes with a white streak through the middle. Camembert is often sold too young, and as a consequence can have an unappealing flouriness.
It is sold in wooden boxes, an idea the producers adopted from Mont d'Or, which enabled the cheese to be shipped to the big city markets, especially Paris, on the train and arrive in perfect condition in the 19th century. As a consequence, Camembert has become ubiquitous in France.
It's good to eat all year round, although apparently real gourmets spurn Camembert made in the spring. Traditionally it is eaten with the famous reds of Bordeaux and Burgundy.
Thursday, 2 April 2026
Bulbs in the Courtyard
Wednesday, 1 April 2026
A New and Unnecessary Garden Bed
I am dismayed to see that part of the nature strip near the médiathèque has been dug up and planted with garden plants that, whilst certainly eye-catching, are rather ordinary.
Lovely pocket of wild bee and orchid friendly habitat on the left. Banal bed of primulas on the right.
This area, along with the public park containing the chapel and the space behind the médiathèque, is a veritable treasure trove of natural biodiversity! It is teeming with native plant species, fungi and wild pollinators nesting in the ground, perfectly adapted to this dry, gravelly and compacted soil. Some of these species are uncommon, others even rare, and at least one, although it thrives here, is globally threatened.
These green spaces, left to minimal management, contribute enormously to Preuilly’s environmental well-being. They do not contribute as much if they are disturbed by earthworks and alterations.
Autumn Lady's Tresses leaf rosette, low profile enough to be safe from the mower, but the flower spike never survives to set seed.
Do you think a nature-loving tourist will be more impressed by the four species of wild orchids they can see near the médiathèque, or by a few primula they could grow in their own garden at home?
But these areas are mowed far too often by the local council. Every year, I look forward to seeing certain specific species and I tell my friends to come and look, only to find the special plants have been mowed off in their prime the day before.
The offending flower bed, plonked right over the spot where the Ivy Bees and Sand Wasps nest.
I have written about these wonderful little wild spots on several occasions, and here is a link to give you an idea.
Further reading:
Biodiversity at the Bibliotheque https://daysontheclaise.blogspot.com/2021/09/biodiversity-at-bibliotheque.html
I've emailed the town hall to express my disgruntlement, and the new mayor has responded saying she would be delighted to meet to discuss. So now I've emailed my retired ecologist friend who lives in town to see if he would be willing to accompany me to a meeting. I'd like to get the discussion extended to the cemetery too. It could certainly do with some 'greening'.





































