Comment va notre blé de la Ste Barbe par rapport à l’année dernière?

Je dirais beaucoup mieux de l’année dernière.

As I’ve said before, Aix-en-Provence is even more beautiful at Christmas time.

This year is no exception.

We’ll be in the UK for Nöel this year but seeing the new year in in Aix.

Another Christmas tradition is making les biscuits des sables – shortbread biscuits. So when we visited Hanna and her two girls we – well Cath at least – helped out.

First it was rolling out the dough, then cutting it into shapes.

And we got a little bag to take home.

It is the time of year for Christmas markets so this weekend we went to two.

On Saturday it was our local one at Puyricard.

It wasn’t the best to be honest so it was with a bit of trepidation that we headed to Vaugines – former home of Peter Mayle.

This one had a bit more pizazz.

We bought some Christmas baubles and a Christmas present.

The sun may be shining but it’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas en Provence.

No, not from the actual office dealing with my request to change my visa – 14 months and counting without a reply.

This was rather from Le Palais Bourbon where a vote by MPs was passed to say that long-term visas should be automatically renewed.

You can read more about it here.

Although the vote was overwhelmingly in favour it still has to pass through the Senate so I’m not holding my breath.

Cath’s niece Hanna suggested meeting up in Parc Bagatelle in the 8th arrondissement in Marseille.

She said there was a Christmas lights display that Alma and Iris wanted to see.

There were plenty of things to look at.

It wasn’t quite Lyon but les petites filles enjoyed it.

Although Alma wanted to see les champignons and l’horloge that she had seen online.

But we think they must have been from last year. So I did my best mushroom and clock impressions and we went in search of food.

The 4 December is a day of tradition en Provence – le jour de Ste Barbe – a day when you start to grow wheat at your house.

Why? Well here’s a detailed explanation from La Provence.

Last year it was explained to us at the supermarket – who provided the blé – that you grow three pots and if they grow well you will have a successful year – both health and wealth-wise.

Ours were a bit disappointing so this time we have gone all in to try and ensure good fortune next year.

As it was Thursday evening it was time for les rapaces nocturnes.

In my experience the French aren’t big birdwatchers so I wasn’t expecting too many people to be there.

The talk had been moved to la mairie in la salle des marriages.

There were 30 of us in there, watched over of course by President Macron.

Matthieu from LPO (Ligue pour la protection des oiseaux) Birdlife France gave a fascinating talk about owls.

It started with the key question – quelle est la différence entre un hibou et une chouette?

Now I had no idea and had always wondered.

Turns out un hibou has to have visible ear tufts.

I also learnt the French names of loads of owls.

• Effraie des clochers- barn owl
• Chouette hulotte – tawny owl
• Chevêche d’Athena – little owl
• Le petit duc scops- Scops owl
• Hibou moyen duc – long-eared owl
• Grand-duc d’Europe – eagle owl

I learnt it’s illegal to take home an owl feather you find on the ground, owls ears are at different heights to enable them to locate their prey more accurately.

We watched this BBC video which shows you how silently une effraie des clochers flies.

We examined some pelotes de rejection and then learnt there’s not much point looking out for barn owls en Provence- there aren’t many around.

All in all a great couple of hours.

Merci Matthieu.

Guess what? Cath heard some scratching noises in the loft so we had another visit from Monsieur Dératisation.

He went into le vide sanitaire under the house.

It was strange to hear him walking around underneath the living room.

Fortunately he found no evidence of vermin down there.

Next it was up into les combles.

He put down some more poison as the previous dose had all gone.

Unfortunately when I asked what it had been up there he was in no doubt.

Des rats.

He said they climb up the side of the building and into the roof through the gaps in the tiles.

And that they will be back.

That’s reassuring then.

Cath and I went for a walk along the canal de Provence to enjoy the most of the late November sun.

When we got back to the car we saw this sign.

What was it for? We drove down to have a look.

Turns out it’s a nudist camping site – less than three miles from our front door.

Interested? You can book a pitch here – although it’s shut now til May 2026.

I see they have une piscine – presumably not subject to the strict dress codes of other French establishments – bonnet de natation? Pas nécessaire.

I thought it was named after a golden GOAT – best footballer of all time Lionel Messi (although he’s no Geoff Horsfield).

But no, Messidor is one of the twelve months of the French Republic’s calendar.

It was the first one of summer and means harvest.

The months were named after elements of the different seasons.

The autumn months:

• Vendémiaire (vintage)
• Brumaire (fog)
• Frimaire (frost)

The winter months:

• Nivôse (snow)
• Pluviôse (rain)
• Ventouse (wind)

The spring months:

• Germinal (germination) Also a great book by Emile Zola
• Floréal (flowers)
• Prairial (meadow)

The summer months:

• Messidor (harvest) Also a nudist camping site site in Venelles
• Thermidor (heat) As not loved by les homards
• Fructidor (fruit)

I’m sure Maximilian Robespierre and Georges Danton would be pleased to hear the name Messidor lives on.