The woodpile is laid

Big excitement today was the fact that we had something for breakfast, milk for tea and the wood was being delivered.

There was a bit of furniture shifting going on and Lucy had taken on the mission to wash all of the chair covers (which were a bit grubby, it has to be said). The chairs are all beige, which isn't the best colour for a holiday let.

I was keeping an ear open for M Vincent. We'd given him Sam's mobile number so he could call when he got to the village, but he just followed his nose up and bang on 11am, I heard the sound of his truck at the front. He greeted me like an old friend and I used my limited French to wish him good day and ask how he was. We then had to revert to grunts and sign language to explain where we were and how he would unload the wood.

He has a Mazda 4x4 with snow tyres and a tipper, so he can deliver wood pretty much anywhere. He was able to back the truck down the passageway between the chalet and the farm next door and tipped it reasonably close to the end of the building. It was a pretty large pile and it looked good wood, nice and dry and aged.

We were stacking the wood under the stairs leading up to the balcony around the top chalet. The stairs come down onto our patio, but they're for emergency use so I've never seen anyone using them. They also lead up to a level above (at the same height as the roof) where there's a small level patch (which is the garden). The chalet is the last building in the village (it was a cow barn belonging to the farm) and the hill is climbing steeply at this stage - a good 1 in 3.

The driveable road finishes at our chalet. You can get a car up there, but that last bit is steep, narrow and has a sharp bend. The road is cleared of snow, but the plough comes up the village pushing the snow ahead of it and piled it up just after our chalet, creating a large snowbank. The tarmac road turns into a dirt track after that and it's used by quads, jeeps and horses only.

Anyway, the space under the stairs off the patio make a great place to store some wood and keep it dry. Lucy was the stacker, Sam and I ferried armfuls between the pile and the stacker and Margaret was the loader. It proved a good system and the pile went down slowly, but steadily as the stack increased at the same rate.

Maurice arrived to check out what was going on and 'helped' a little by bringing some wood back to Margaret in the hope that she might throw it for him. We were very focused though, so Maurice was a minor distraction.

The wood store grew into two layers and Lucy had to add a small third layer to finish off. We also had about five bags of kindling from chips and sticks.

The nights are very cold, down to -5 deg C or lower, but we are on the sunny side of the valley, so once the sun is up, it gets warm quite quickly. The patio is a real sun-trap and it is nice to sit out there in the late morning/early afternoon. Sam had shovelled snow off the previous day and, without the snow cover, the ice underneath had begun melting in the sun. It was melting still more today and would be clear with a further couple of days' good weather.

With the wood stacked, we got changed and headed down to town for some lunch and a wander around. It was about 1pm, so all the shops were shut for lunch, but we had a slow wander and then went into a small cafe by the main square for lunch. It was good food and they were very friendly. Margaret has been practising her French and we're trying to get her to ask for 'van rouge' rather than 'vin rouge' and also specify whether she wants a glass or a bottle. She did remember ‘van’ this time, but when the waitress asked how much and suggested a carafe, Margaret agreed immediately and so ended up with over half a bottle of wine for lunch.

Afterwards, we had a little more of a wander and then headed back to the chalet. Sam was doing veal shank for dinner and it needed a long slow cook. I got the fire going with the last of the supermarket wood and we were soon very warm. The wood-burning stove soon heats up the lounge/kitchen and, if you leave the door open to the bedrooms, then the whole chalet gets warm.

Maurice had been around in the morning and had enjoyed a little more rabbit stew left-overs. Margaret had still more saved for her supper, but she failed to put in an appearance.

Next day, we were planning to go to Val Thorens so we spent some time checking out the options. We'd park up in town and get a half-day ski pass. Margaret would have happily stayed in the chalet, but I was keen for her to come, so she agreed and we planned that she could have a look around town and a few coffees or vin chauds by the side of the piste.

Mr Vincent and his very pretty dog

Mission on our second day was to do a supermarket shop, have some breakfast and investigate where we could buy some wood.

Sam was sure that he’d seen a sign for wood from the funicular railway as it headed up to Les Arc, so we started with a plan to have breakfast at the cafe by the supermarket and drop by the bottom of the funicular on the way to see if we could find the wood yard.

There was no sign of wood, just a garage, a tyre depot (where you could sort out your pnue) and a garden centre. Sam popped into the garden centre to see if they knew any wood merchants and we sat outside keeping the engine running. It was about -5 deg C down in Bourg, so the car was hardly warm on the short drive down from Vilaret.

He returned five minutes later to say it was a very good garden centre, they spoke excellent English and he had a name, a number and also some directions – the wood merchant was down by the canoe centre. We decided to head down there to see if we could find him. The road follows the Isere River and we found the canoe centre, but no sign of any wood. There was a sign which said “Commercial Centre” so we followed the road down for a good way and were just about to give up when we found the wood yard.

The proprietor Rui Vincent, had very little English, but he did have a pretty dog called Fidji and he certainly knew his wood. We managed to buy three ‘stairs’ of wood and arrange for them to be delivered a demain (or at least we think we did). Mr Vincent agreed that he’d be there at 11am the next day, I reluctantly put down Fidji (a small brown terrier) and we left in good spirits. That was one job done and, at €260, it was a bit less than Sam had expected.

As is the way with fate and fortune, one minute you’re feeling all’s well with the world and the next there’s a dark grey cloud. The cloud arrived with the journey back into Bourg. I retraced my route and was going to cut through the Funicular car park to get round the back of the station, through a small residential area and be on the right side of town for the supermarket. However, there was a ‘no entry’ sign on the car park entrance and barriers had been installed. The free car park we had enjoyed for the past two ski trips was not free any more.

We had to drive back and along the top of the car park. Nothing was open yet, but there were exit barriers too, so it was clear a charge was going to be applied.

By this time, it was nudging 11am and I was ready for breakfast. We all had the set menu at €5 each, which included a croissant, bread and jam, a hot drink and a glass of juice. It’s not quite a Wetherspoon’s full English for £4.99 value, but it’s pretty close.

The supermarket we use is called Super U and it’s a really good one. French supermarkets (in general) are so much nicer than English ones and we did a big shop to stock up for the week. Sam bought rabbits to make a rabbit casserole, veal hock and the ingredients for a tartiflette. There were also some items noted for possible purchase late in the week. They had some bargain Belgian beers. You could get three bottles of Chimay Blue and a glass for less than I paid on eBay for a glass. There was also a lovely big bottle of Leffe and two glasses at under €8.

Later in the day, we were cooking up dinner and getting the fire going when Maurice (the name we’d given to the farm collie) arrived to check us out. She was quite nervous and showed her teeth when we went out onto the patio to see her, but it was obvious she wanted to be friends, she was just a little nervous. Margaret and I gave her time to come up and sniff us, have a pat and a stroke and she was fine.

Margaret was missing Holly, so Maurice got all the attention she needed. She has a couple of chunks of matted fur that could do with being cut off, but she’s a lovely dog. She got a bowl of rabbit stew leftovers for her trouble.

View of the Isere Valley from our chalet, with early
morning mist filling the valley floor. Click to see it snowing!