Well we had the car back for a week. And then this morning just as we were off to Cucuron market I tried to start it - once more nothing. It’s now down at the local garage in Lourmarin, where Bruno, the mechanic described the people who repaired it in Aix as “cowboys,” for good measure he added that our steering column was about to break and that one day soon the car would only be able to go in one direction - straight - which is clearly not good if there is a bend approaching.
Our problems in Ansouis market have also resurfaced. Despite months of loyal service the organiser approached us this week and said that we were never to return to the market. It was as if he had never seen us before. Suddenly we were exiles.
The reason? All the local vignerons have clubbed together and drawn up a rota of who can sell wine, when, in the market. Of course the months covered are only August and the beginning of September, when there’s real money to be made.
Still nobody thought to tell us, and so I suddenly discovered my inner Frenchman and angrily gesticulated for half an hour in an attempt to protect our right to trade. My rather dodgy French was empowered by my sense of injustice and I like to think I held my own.
“What are they going to do call the gendarmes,” shouted the other traders.
“You’re not selling the local wine, so there’s no reason for you not to be here,” they argued a little spuriously.
The problem is the rota for vignerons is now full and so unless we want to have a weekly fight we have to give up the market.
Making matters worse, two large wine orders have just arrived, so I have a cave full of wine, a car that doesn’t work, and even when it’s repaired one less market to work in. Meanwhile the French tax authorities are trying to extort extravagant sums of money from me because they refuse to believe that another James Ivey could possibly live in France. He does - he lives near Saint Cecile in the Dordogne and last year several hundred euros was taken from my account overnight to pay his tax liability.
I’ve only just got the money back, but rather than apologise the Direction General des Revenues is taking a different tact this year - they are trying to fine me for not completing my tax return. I have! It’s just that the other James Ivey - the one the authorities won’t admit exists - hasn’t.
So you see it’s not just all rosé and sunshine out here….back next week with a cheerier missive.
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2 comments:
Sorry to hear about Ansouis. That's awful. I don't buy the excuse that you aren't selling local wine. There is the guy selling chacuterie right there who sells Spainish olive oil and sausage and they aren't kicking him out. I guess it comes down to the fact that you aren't French. I hope it all works out. My husband's son just told me of a friend who opened a champagne bar in Nice. He was able to do it by selling little plates of food along with drinks, not real meals, but it gets him passed that whole bar thing with the huge amount of money the French government wants. Just in case you are thinking, still, of a rose bar, thought I'd tell you that. Linda
August 21st In the market in Cucuron is where I lost my husband, Peter, only to find him drinking wine at your stall! Not that I was surprised by this. We never have to arrange meeting point for use if we are separated the draw of a wine stall or a local cave is all too strong. I note some similarity between my Peter and yours!
Having purchased both a bottle of Rose and your book I was delighted by both. Even our return to England saw the fates smiling providing warm weather so that I could continue a good read whilst enjoying my Rose.
Unfortunately book read I still need to know more about your final decision to move to Provence....will it be covered in the next book?
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