VILLAGE LIFE 1

When we moved to Monkvalley, we made a conscious decision, despite our lack of language skills, to be proactive, and integrate into village life.

Not knowing anybody, and being at the end of the road,  on the outskirts of the village,  we did start to wonder how this might be achieved, without coming across as the “pushy” English! Of course we needn’t have worried As I have said elsewhere, Ginette, and her extended family came into our lives, and, we soon became accepted faces in the  village.

On one of early “reckies” walking with Lucy and Henry,  we came upon a building, which looked to all intent and purposes as a Methodist chapel. The sign outside said “Société La Promenade”
“Great” we must join, kill two birds with one stone:  Get to know the locals, and  Get to know our surroundings. Now, neither of us have ever been overly keen on organised “walks”  not up our street, but, then needs must.  How wonderful then, when we realised it wasn’t a walking club after all, but, a drinking club. Now that really was up our street.

Similar to joining an English golf club,  we had to get 2 sponsors to guarantee our standing, and behaviour, “responsible drinking” obviously  they didn’t – at this stage – know Sheila!  our names were then put forward to the AGM for approval, of course we were duly enrolled,  and,  became fully paid up members.

The golf club analogy falls down at this point. The atmosphere is very relaxed,  very casual: key  behind the door, you put your money in a drawer, 2 Euro! You take a bottle out of fridge, or in case of red, out of the cupboard!  and away you go, but, do remember to  share your bottle with others. It is a place for a drink,  a chat, and lots of games of belote. A French card game, a little like whist, as we understand it.

Initially they held many “nights” pot-au-feu ( A French feast of vegetables and cuts of meat boiled in a savoury broth and, is traditionally served in courses) Charcuterie Alsacienne (sauerkraut with Pork and other salted meats often served with potatoes) barbecues, the annual lunch time repast held on a Sunday in May, all very reasonable priced, all prepared by members, all washed down with copious amounts of  wine.

Things have changed over the past few years, the evening’s have  stopped, but, they do still hold the annual repast . It started out  as a “do-it-yourself” sort of affair,  but, in recent  years it as become   a gourmet feast, with professional caterers being employed.  During the meal at strategic intervals,  after cheese, before digestives, people are invited to sing, or tell jokes, and this year, Sheila actually got up and sang: “there’s a long, long trail a winding…..” a first world war song.

I would suggest that if you told Sheila 10 years ago, that she would be up, and, singing in France, in front of a room full of people she would have said “pigs might fly” or, some such throw away line, but, it is proof that we are indeed part of village life.