Finding Friends and Hidden Treasure! #6
The Unadventurous Traveller
Life continued for us in our house in La Creuse, France. We loved the life, we loved exploring new places, seeing the beauty of La Creuse and having some freedom and space. I think this is a huge benefit to having a house in France; the size of property and garden you can purchase for your money, which vastly differs to the size of property and garden we left behind in the UK. We each had our own space, the kids could play outside and indoors, ride their bikes, run and play carefree for as long as they wished. I had room to do crafty things like sewing, reading, work, exercise and there were so many countryside walks I could run on, around and about too. Dale had plenty of space for his photography outside, in barns and wherever the wildlife was - the peace and tranquility was amazing.
Annoying Safe
After much decorating, cleaning and major works as described in the last two blogs, life for all of us resumed into a normal flow. School started, work, dinner time, family time, bed - the normal routine for us. Every morning and evening as I was getting dressed in the dressing room, I would look at the ugly old safe that was taking up a huge amount of room in the fairly small room. We had been handed a huge bucket of keys when we bought the house, but none of the keys fitted any of the locks on the safe so we couldn't open it. It was in the way, it was ugly and so I just piled stuff on it! If it must be there at least it could be useful as a shelf if nothing else. I asked Dale if we could get rid of it as it really was in the way.
The only photo we can find of the safe, before we bought the house, in the corner of the room
One day Michel, our neighbour, came round for a guided tour. He had lived in our hamlet for many years, after retiring from his career as a cabinet maker in Paris, and had never actually seen inside the ‘chateau’. He was very interested in all the rooms, and liked the way we had started to decorate. He suddenly became particularly interested when we arrived in our dressing room and he saw the safe. He grew very excited at the sight of it and mumbled something that we just didn't understand. What was in this safe? Why did I feel so excited yet nervous about opening it? What would be in it? Michel nipped off home to get some tools…..
School
Getting the children in to school and ensuring that the transition went as smoothly as possible has always been my utmost concern throughout each move, as I am sure it is for any parent. When we moved to France, Dalton was eight. He has always been quietly confident and self sufficient but how would he cope with starting a new school, in a new language?
We left the UK in the Easter time, schools there had just broken up, but arriving in France, the schools then took 2 weeks before they then broke up for the Easter break. This allowed Dalton, and Brooke, a good deal of time to settle into their home environment but as we were so rural, they hadn't had the chance to meet any kids of similar ages.
So starting school was necessary for his education but also would be good for Dalton to mix with kids his age, make friends, integrate and settle into this new life. We would leave Brooke from going to school yet as she was still so little.
Prior to moving to France, we had visited the Mairie (Mayor's office) to tell them we would be moving to the area, give the approximate date and to enrol Dalton into the local school and the system. I always come armed with as much paperwork as you could possibly need (birth certificate, red health book for the children from the UK, marriage certificate, correspondence to prove we were buying the property and even Dalton’s school report in case they wanted to see it!). Getting signed up to the local school proved to be very simple, complete paperwork and the small rural community welcomed you with open arms. New families with children are always welcomed as this will boost the numbers for their school!
There is an ongoing issue for rural schools with the small numbers of children enrolled; they feel they have to justify themselves and are always having to make cuts here, lose teachers etc.
First day
Starting a new school is always nerve wracking and quite scary, but as the first day arrived, we drove the few kilometres to the little French school with trepidation. He had held his nerves together well all this time, then the time came to go in. We said our goodbyes outside the school gates, then he went into the playground. The kids all gathered around him like he was a new kind of chocolate chatting away to him in rapid French which he, of course, did not understand. What is your name? How old are you? Where do you live? Were some of the sentences I understood, but this suddenly became so overwhelming for Dalton, he burst in tears. Oh my goodness, this was so heartbreaking to us, watching him through the gates in tears, dying to take this pain away from him, but knowing it was something he would have to work through. The teaching staff were so lovely and kind, took him by the hand and showed him where he would sit and where to put his bag and coat. We waved goodbye…
Worried sick
We spent the rest of the morning trying to work on the house, play with Brooke and not worry about how Dalton was getting on on his first morning at French school. I couldn't focus on anything, and felt sick all morning. At midday, I drove the 5 kilometres to collect him from school. Out he came with all the other children, he was all smiles and full of stories about how he had got on! The boys had all wanted to be friends with him and were queueing up to ask him questions and did he want to play? Yes! The morning had been a success. This small rural school was to become a place he would quite look forward to going, and even when the subjects got difficult or boring, he always enjoyed school. He made some lovely friends and this was the key, we believe, in him learning the language so fluently and well.
In France, when we were there, children were able to start school as soon as they were ‘dry’ or as soon as they were able to go to the toilet independently. As Brooke was two and a half, she was eligible to go full time. The thought of sending her full time was abhorrent to me as she was so small! However this is wonderful (free) childcare that is laid on for working parents across France if/when you have to return back to work. Brooke was always quite a timid and shy little girl, so I thought, eventually, it would be a good idea to start her part time at school to get her used to leaving me, ease her into the French language, French education system as well and also allow me time to do some work.
When Brooke started at school, just for the mornings, she would scream and cry, trying to kick her way away as I handed her over to the Maitresse! That was so heart wrenching too as she was such a mummy’s girl, but eventually we agreed that Brooke could bring Teddy (nounous) into school with her. This was a great compromise as Brooke felt assured with Teddy by her side. Little by little Brooke got used to school, mainly with the help of the headmistress’s eldest daughter - Elise. Maitresse Delphine was such a lovely, caring, strict but fair headmistress and teacher of the kindergarten level children. She had two daughters who both attended the school, but Elise took it upon herself to take Brooke under her wing, mother her and generally include her in all her play. Both Elise and Maitresse Delphine transformed the school experience for Brooke and with Delphine guiding her teaching team, she was a wonderful headmistress.
Lunch
You can stay at school to eat lunch, for which you have to pay (this is means tested in some schools and can range from 3 euros to 13 euros per day) or just pay a flat rate decided by the Mairie, as in our case. You can also go home for lunch if you prefer, which means collecting your child at midday and returning them for the afternoon if there are lessons in the afternoon. So this is what we started to do, collecting Dalton, and Brooke eventually when she started, at lunchtime for 2 hours then back to school 2-5pm. This was quite a nice welcome break for both children to start with, but eventually they realised that they missed out on a long play time with their friends, so Dalton started wanting to stay for lunch. In time Brooke would stay full time so she could play with her friends too.
When they did stay for lunch, the menus that were sent home to us always created many more questions than answers as to what was going to be for lunch! Google Translate didn't always provide us with decent answers. But they always had a three course lunch, always fresh food prepared that day and as much bread as they wanted.
Brooke did not like the food there at all and said she only ate bread. Great I thought, what am I paying for if she is only eating bread? However over time this changed, her palette developed, she was pushed gently into trying new foods. Dalton tried new foods too, then they came home and we could experiment with some of the new menus as well. Brooke’s favourite meal at school was moules et frites and Dalton also loved saucisse cassoulet.
Turtles - for Lunch?
Once Brooke declared that for lunch she had eaten sausage and turtles. What was this turtles? I know the French do eat some interesting foods, but surely not turtles? She described small, round green things like peas but smaller - aha! Lentils! So sausage and lentil casserole became a firm favourite in our house for many years! There were many things that were on the menu which were new to us: boudain, compote, fondue and chips, plain yogurt with sugar on top, chestnut bread, ravioli, sausages with mashed potato in a French style, sardines in oil, Iles flotants, the list of delicious foods went on!
The Right to Protest
There is an ongoing issue for rural schools as with the numbers of children enrolled diminishing, they have to justify themselves more and more, and are always having to make cuts here, lose teachers etc. The funding from central government depends on the children attending, so if the school is very small, and ours was (less than 70 children), the threat of losing another teacher - or even school closure - was very real.
In the spring, such a threat became apparent again. The government wanted them to lose a teacher, which would mean class sizes increasing. The parents and teaching staff were outraged! They were going to protest about this. It was totally unfair, the government of the time just wanted to save some money, so small, rural schools felt the brunt of these cuts.
So parents and teachers alike protested, along with all of the other rural schools. The protests were arranged for one sunny day in Guéret, outside the large administration centre. I had heard how the French liked a protest, but to be part of it, to protest for something that you feel so passionately about and to make yourself heard - was amazing!!! I was quite bewildered really, but we all joined together with kids in tow, marching around shouting, waving, and rattling anything that made a noise to make ourselves heard. Other parents had made signs saying: ‘nos enfants ne sont pas des sardines’ (Our children are not sardines). I told them about the average class size in England at the primary school Dalton used to go to, being around 35 students. They couldn't believe it, they certainly did not want that here, for their children! Nell’s Mum handed me an old tin can and a spoon, so I could rattle, bang and make a loud noise to protest with everybody else. The camaraderie and strong feeling to ‘save our school’ was fantastic. And I really felt accepted, part of the parent group and not 'the different one', the outsider. We made it to the local newspaper and TV, Vive la Gréve!
Short Term Victory
It worked too, as that year the school did not lose their teacher. We all felt jubilant! However when this same situation arose the following year, whilst we protested and tried to make our views known, it made no difference, the school still lost provision for Maitresse Anne. We were all very sad.
Insurance
It is interesting to note that to attend school in France it is obligatory to have school insurance. You have to provide the certificate (attestation) to the Mairie that your child/ren have the insurance before they can attend. You can get this insurance through your house insurance; sometimes it is included, gratis, sometimes it is an optional extra. There are specific companies who provide just this type of insurance, and they offer deals for early renewal etc. This was totally new to me coming from England and I have never needed school insurance for Spain either - but it is a really good idea. Kids can be clumsy, rough and accident prone. If your child falls over and breaks their glasses, or pushes someone else and breaks their property, you or they can claim on your insurance. This does not affect the price of your subsequent year’s house insurance I have been assured, but it does mean that squabbles about who should pay for accidents, and perish the thought, if a major accident were to happen, then the civic compensation would be in place.
Using it for Claims
Dalton and a boy were playing tag in the playground one day, pulling each other’s coats and generally being boys. The other boy’s zip became broken because of this rough play. So they contacted the school to gain our insurance details to claim for a new coat. I thought this was pretty ridiculous as the coat was new (less than 2 weeks old) and she could just use her receipt to exchange it at the shop, but no, this was how they did things at school. Funnily enough, a year or so later, when a boy pulled Brooke’s coat so hard that it ripped across the bottom area, I went through the motions to claim, as I knew how this sort of thing worked now, but the parents dug their heels in and WOULD NOT give me or the headmistress their insurance details. Did they not have insurance? Did these insurance claiming rules not apply to English people? I will never know, but it left me feeling annoyed. One rule for one and not for another it seemed.
School week
I had heard that school in France could sometimes still be on a Saturday, but in our commune school was Monday to Friday except for Wednesday afternoons. Wednesday afternoons had previously been the remit of the church and in France the church does not interfere with governmental activities in any way; they are very much separate. Nowadays, Wednesday afternoons were for sport, so all sporting activities took place then. Brooke did gymnastics with all her little friends from school. Dalton tried football and various other activities but never really liked any of them. He just loved going up to the farm, playing tractors with Dorian or on their bikes cycling around or working for real on the farm with Dorian and Francis, so this what he did every week and all weekends!
Kermesse
As the school year started to draw to a close, the two months’ summer holidays beckoned. The school started to prepare for the end of year performance and party, which they called the Kermesse (Fair). They do not do a nativity play (as religion and schooling are always kept very separate) but each class would put on a performance to a song, with dancing and singing, fancy outfits etc.
They put in a lot of effort to practise their dance moves and there was always an extra performance by the eldest school year, as this would be their last. The eldest year group would invest a lot of time in learning some gymnastic moves, or a cool dance to a song in the charts at that time, to ‘see them out’ of their last kermesse at primary school. The teachers put in a huge amount of effort in rehearsals, which seemed to take place every day, all day (bar lunchtime) in the playground for a few weeks preceding the end of term.
To be honest everyone was looking forward to the kermesse, the summing up of the school year, the performances and thanks to all who had worked tirelessly to help the school survive another year. Then the fun could begin, with games, tombola and prizes, a bar-b-que and cake stall. We had all been asked if we could support the kermesse in some way, be it by providing assistance on the stalls, supplying prizes or making cakes. For many of the years we were there, I never felt that my French was good enough to man a stall, so I had to make cakes for them all, as this is something I know I can do and well. The stalls had games and activities for the kids to do: bring the metal tube around the metal horizontal line without touching it, bowling/throwing the bean bags/balls to knock over the cups, hook a duck, etc!
We loved the tombola, and even if we won some very small, silly prize, the kids loved receiving the haul whatever it may be. One year we even won a giant speaker that Dalton had had his eyes on from the start!
The Kermesse in our commune was always held on a Friday, near the last day of term, and would run until about 11-12 o’clock at night. I always thought this was so late for the children to stay up, and did not really maximise the earning potential of the school summer fair, but had been informed it was not held on a Saturday during the day, for example, as this would get in the way of farming work. Friday nights worked for so many of the families in the area, so the day and time stuck.
Summer Fun
As the summer holidays approached, Dalton had made some friends that he could play with. Although living rurally he had to be driven to all of their houses if play dates were arranged. All apart from the family who lived just up the short road, in the next hamlet. This was Dalton’s really good friend Dorian. Dorian and Dalton became like brothers that summer, and for many summers to come, hanging out on Dorian’s farm. Dorian's father, Francis, was a lovely man who took Dalton under his wing like a second son. Where Dorian went, Dalton went. If it was a day to cut the hay or turn it, they would go out in the tractor - all three of them! If they had to tend to the cows, or cull some chickens or many of the other farming jobs that cropped up throughout the year, they all went out together to do it. Dalton learnt so much about farming, the way of life for a farmer, and picked up the language quickly and effortlessly too.
As Brooke grew, she would play with Celia, their youngest daughter, who at a year or two older was a great playmate and local, so ideal. They have recently just started messaging each other again after a two year gap, so this friendship will continue.
The Great Safe Crackers
Back to the big ‘to do’ with the safe in our dressing room. Michel had returned with an angle grinder and crow bar, I was astonished! Had he been a safe breaker in a previous life? Dale and Michel set to work on breaking in to it.
There was a drawer at the bottom which they prised open quite easily as it had a simple lock which pinged open quite easily. Inside the drawer were a lot of papers and documents and three ponytails of plaited hair (we understand that this is something that used to mark the communion of a child at a certain age, but my father had never heard of this.)
Then Michel and Dale started to work on the lock. There were two combination locks on the safe, which was quite large and stood over a metre high, and weighed an absolute tonne. This was why the house removal people were unable to take it along with the other possessions when they cleared the property prior to us buying it. The Notaire had told Dale that there was a safe and that it was our property once purchased. So why did I feel so naughty breaking into this safe? It was our property after all - but it didn't feel like it! It felt so illegal, what was in this safe, were there any riches?
Michel didn't say a lot but after successfully prising open the bottom drawer, he started to work on the locks, the idea being to cut them out with the angle grinder. This was not an easy job because the metal was so thick, and also because the lock mechanisms were not straightforward. If you were to lock the safe, the combination sent metal bars in four different directions, locking it into the frame of the door. This combined with the second combination lock - we had a very complicated safe to break. Dale researched some time later, and discovered that it was a high quality safe made in Paris - Delort & Cie, Paris.
As none of us knew exactly how the lock worked, it was very difficult cutting into the lock mechanism, trying to understand where the bolts would be, and how the mechanism interlinked. Cutting through the casing or the side was not possible, as we couldn't get to the sides firstly, as it was in such a difficult to reach place and couldn’t easily be moved to its weight, but also we didn't want to damage any potential property inside the safe. Furthermore Michel was an artisan, and didn’t want to create too much damage, just to cut through the lock for minimal damage and minimal work!
Michel and Dale spent a good 2-3 hours cutting, and assessing where to make the next cuts. I had to go and make dinner, when I came back and they were still cutting away and feverishly still at it. Then eventually they broke though!
The Haul
What they found within the safe was really quite amazing. Many pieces of silver items started to be brought out of the safe. We all came up to our bedroom to see the treasure as it was emerging, Dale started to pass the antique over to me to lay out on our bed. There was: a sugar bowl, milk jug, vegetable terrine, ice cream service in box, knives and forks sets, napkin rings, brandy warming saucepans (with ebony handles) in two different sizes - the safe just kept producing more and more silver antiques.
A christening set (fork, spoon and beaker), a gravy boat, a mustard pot complete glass inner, a silver platter, a box of teaspoons, another box of forks and spoons (24 piece), another box set (fork, knife spoon etc). Some small little wine/sherry goblets and 6 others, 12 oyster forks, a set of 12 dinner knives and fish slice, cake slice, serving spoons, tea strainer, salad forks with gold inserts, cups and saucers.
Many of the pieces had monograms engraved onto them that we were able to later trace back to the previous owners and their ancient relatives (mostly dating back to the original stone mason who built up the house to the manoir it is today) through the detailed paperwork that we also found in the safe. Some of the pieces were so ornate and beautiful and some were clearly christening or confirmation gifts and had been put into the safe for safekeeping.
Michel was still in our bedroom in awe of all this silver that was emerging from the safe, as we all were! We didn't know him very well then, but we felt that he had gone to all this trouble to help us break into the safe that was now ours, we ought to give him something for his efforts. But what? We had absolutely no idea then if any of it was worth anything or if it was all just ‘old tat’. We offered him both of the brandy warmer saucepans in exchange for his efforts, but he didn't want them. So we said in terrible broken French, what did he want? Just pick something to thank him, but no, he didn't want anything, he had enjoyed the whole experience and went home to cook his dinner. We grew to really love Michel, his eccentric lovable ways, but had he been a safe breaker in a previous life? We’ll never know...
Rummaging more into the safe we found there were impots (tax returns) all rolled up, and other documents that were important to the previous owners dating back to the 1800’s. We also found many love letters sent during the Second World War, from Monsieur Mettais to his wife. There were even detailed letters that Monsieur Mettais had written to his mother when he was a small child, and the responses back from her. The handwriting was in very small, yet immaculate French script which was quite hard to read, particularly when French is not your first language. I couldn't make out every word, but I got the general idea. There were a few photos, not many of the family.
Then Dale passed me some 18th century ladies leather purses which looked quite fragile. Upon opening these beautiful purses we discovered several old, solid silver coins; a 10 franc coin, 5 franc coin and a Napoleonic 40 lira solid gold coin which was minted during his reign of Italy, all in very good condition. We also found many pieces of paper describing sums of money given to the war effort (World War II) - War Bonds. There were many other wartime memorabilia such as mission assignment sheets sent from Vichy, battle reports WWII detailing several different battles in N.E France, and some payments made regarding and to the prisoners of war camps located near to our house. I will talk about this in some more detail in the future as it is so interesting.
Minerva 1
We were absolutely dumbfounded with the amount of silver in the safe and that the previous owners had not come to reclaim their inheritance. But we also felt jolly lucky to have found all this beautiful Minerva 1 silver.
Sterling silver is graded 925 parts to a thousand whereas Minerva silver 1, which this was, has a grading at 950 parts to a thousand. It was all hallmarked, and this hallmark could be traced back, with a lot of internet digging, to the year and sometimes the maker. Dale thoroughly enjoyed researching the origins of our silver, some of which dated back to 1820 and had sat untouched throughout two World Wars.
The Old Carcass
The safe was still very much in the way in the dressing room and now in quite a poor state after Michel and Dale had hacked away at it. We had to get rid of it, but even now empty, it was still far too heavy to lift and take all the way down stairs. Dale knew that typically safes had a lining around the outside edge that were filled with volcanic sand, to make the safe incredibly heavy and so nigh on impossible to steal. So we had to start to empty the volcanic sand out from our old safe to be able to dispose of it. He cut some holes at the bottom of each side, so the sand would pour out. We filled up buckets and buckets of this sand, walked through the house, down the stairs and disposed of it on a pile to be used later. This took ages and made quite a mess, but it was an easier job than breaking our backs lifting the safe and damaging the wooden floors to boot!
Once the safe was emptied of sand, it was far more manageable and easier to handle. We manhandled the safe to the window, and Dale literally just threw it out of the dressing room window. We had put some planks of wood on the ground immediately beneath the window, so the safe would not dig into the ground too much, and this broke its fall nicely. He took it to the tip a few days later.
We absolutely loved finding our ‘treasure’ hidden within a safe that everybody had previously thought empty. To be honest we didn't know what to do with it all. We got the silver out if we had visitors, who we thought would find our treasure of interest, but really we just put it away carefully in a cupboard so as not to damage it. I had hoped perhaps to find diamonds but antique French silver, papers and love letters (and the odd plaited ponytail) was the sum total, which was quite amazing in itself. We would have to think of what to do with it all, but we had time. We had also found a lot of World War II memorabilia stored safely in the house and safe, which we found so interesting; lots of war documents and items which I will tell you about next time.
If you would like to read more about our travels, adventures and happenings then you could join the facebook page for updates: The Unadventurous Traveller and follow this blog.
Please share this with your friends so more people can read it, thank you.
See you next time!
Catherine
You can catch up on some of the previous blogs here:
#5 Manoir Makeover - more doing it up - Part 2
#4 Signing and Doing it up - Part 1
#3 France - a new life, a new home
#2 Get the ball rolling
#1 How did we get here?
#Moving to France,
#Renovating property in France,
#Moving abroad with kids,
#Moving to France with Kids,
#Renovating property abroad,
#Digital nomad life,
#Hardwork,
#DIY,
#Renovations in France,
#How to survive moving to a new country,
#LifeinFrance
#LifeinSpain
#LivinginLaCreuse
#Movingoffgrid
#Livingoffgrid
#Expats
#Renovations
#Doingitup
Comments
Post a Comment