Some intensive hip physiotherapy

Last week we returned from a wonderful six days in Venice where we had been celebrating our Ruby Wedding. This perfect romantic venue was planned last November, when I was newly bionic; the medieval part of the city, without cars, would provide plenty of walking opportunities.

After surviving a full body scan (fellow hipsters beware!) at Heathrow....despite my protestations about having a hip replacement and producing a card from the hospital to confirm it, I decided I was up for anything. Just as well. Standing, let alone balancing in the high speed water taxi, which transported us from the airport to Venice proper, tested all of my leg muscles.

But the first sight of St Mark's Basilica from the water was unforgettable.

And my first cappucino confirmed we had chosen the perfect destination.

The canals are never far away when walking around this special place and getting anywhere involves crossing the water several times. With more than two hundred bridges to go at there is plenty of choice for pedestrians! The Rialto bridge bustles with tourists, shops and vendors and once negotiated, leads to the vibrant fish market.

'Step ups' and 'step downs' were literally the order of the day as each bridge was traversed. Wasted muscles gathered strength daily as the intensive bridge therapy began to take effect.

And climbing fifty steep steps up to the balustrading on San Marco provided views of the Doge's Palace and a real sense of achievement, as well as terror for those more vertically challenged.


Full marks to the hip then....and what memories we have.

Back on the bike

I have really forgotten when I last cycled, but it was probably about a year ago. To coin a phrase, it became too difficult to get my leg over and too dangerous to stop and put my right foot to the ground, as the old hip steadily declined. The bike languished in the shed throughout the winter, gathering dust and cobwebs but with Spring beginning to appear and my improved hip confidence I decided to give it an airing last weekend. Cycling is an approved activity for hipsters like me as it is non impact and uses the wasted muscles in the hip and thigh very effectively. Time then to put myself to the test....

WPH kindly pumped up the tyres, the frame was wiped down and I managed the leg over bit without a twinge. Fantastic! Imagine my surprise though, when I glanced down into the bike's wicker basket....

.......there was a beautiful nest, literally nestling at the bottom of the basket, composed of leaves, moss and hair, but now forgotten. Cobwebs suggest it had been there since last summer, a wonderful hideaway for one of our garden visitors. Out came the bird books and the following description seems to fit.

'the nest, usually with a frontage of dead leaves, is made of moss and lined with hair, and is placed in some sort of hollow: in a bank, wall, tree-stump, old tin, and in many curious places, even in occupied houses.'

I feel very honoured that our friendly robin made such good use of my inactivity in such a curious place!

Bionic gardening

I now know that life is definitely returning to normal after spending two afternoons sorting out my veggy plot. The contents of the compost bin were forked onto the raised bed and then followed plenty of digging.... something I struggled with before I became bionic. When I created le potager three years ago, assisted by kind son and WPH, I thought a raised bed would be sensible, as the hip was already giving me gyp. Today I clambered on and off the oak sleeper edges with ease and enjoyed every minute of my workout.
I was planting onion sets, a staple vegetable for any cook, particularly in France. The sets are easy to grow, as you just push them into the ground and then wait for them to take root....in my experience a hassle free crop. The birds can mistake the tops of the sets for nest building material but the sets are easily pushed back into the soil. I planted 250 grammes, enough for three rows and look forward to harvesting them later this summer.



I then moved on to broad beans, one of my very favourite vegetables. I brought this packet, a dwarf variety from the UK , as the French seem to prefer the giant sort. These are an easy crop too and the dwarf varieties seem less prone to blackfly. I can't wait for the first tasting....


Once everything was planted I emptied the water butt, gently watering the veggy plot, before finally hanging my watering can on its branch for the next time....I have a feeling that I will find an excuse to plant something else tomorrow!

Out and About with 'la nouvelle hanche'

La nouvelle hanche had to walk uphill today to catch this view in the Aveyron Gorge.Our aim was to walk up to the 12th century castle at Bruniquel. Wandering through the village streets the castle looked as imposing today as it must have seemed when the heretic Cathars were rampaging in the Languedoc against the Catholics all those centuries ago.

The unexpected sunshine was a bonus, warming the natural colours of the massive stone buildings. We walked without coats enjoying this hint of Spring. As I looked back at the castle I couldn't help thinking 'if only walls could talk'.
What had life been like in there?
How many people did the castle house?
How did they keep warm in winter?
What did they eat?


And of course our minds then turned to finding our dejeuner....
No problem....

Actually the roti de porc was just one of five courses! Not for the faint hearted or anyone in a hurry I hear you say...well we are in rural France where everything stops for a lengthy lunch break. With these wild beasts looking down on us it also seemed imperative not to argue with the status quo.

Some time later we headed for home....driving rather slowly. A surprise awaited us as we went round one bend.

This particular lama was not impressed by the appearance of my camera and spat with significant attitude to let me know!

Happily I didn't encounter any problems when I took this final photo of the day's expedition - a treeful of mistletoe.....

Greetings from South West France

Faithful followers of this blog may have been perturbed by the recent absence of posts. Don't worry, the new hip is absolutely fine. My silence has been entirely due to lack of broadband provision, caused by transfering from one provider to another. I won't bore you with the details except to say I have discovered that internet cafes are fascinating places. Happily we are now in France where France Telecom have restored our faith in the internet.

So earlier this week with WPH's forthcoming birthday to celebrate and in glorious sunshine we thought we would check out our favourite restaurant in a nearby village and book for Dimanche dejeuner. A theraputic walk could be achieved at the same time, following one of the many local promenades, and taking in a gentle hill or two.

We soon arrived outside the restaurant, a lovely old building with its foody credentials suitably noted on a gate post.

But imagine our disappointment when we read the following notice....

I suppose things could be worse....at least Veronique et Frederic are opening up a new restaurant in another nearby town in April. However the quest is now on to find somewhere for Dimanche dejeuner!

A new friend

I have recently bought a new walking stick......well a trekking pole really. Following my test drive of a friend's Leki stick I took the online plunge and my purchase arrived this week. It came from headtothehills.com, is fully adjustable and with the option for using different tip attachments, including a snow 'basket'. Some Leki enthusiasts walk with two sticks as if training for the Winter Olympics. I have decided to stick to one! Holding the pole requires a new technique as the handle grip is totally different to my conventional walking stick. The pole has to be angled to optimise its effect; as a trekking pole then it will be useful when I take to the byways or head for the hills and a great addition as a walking friend.

Oxford has few hills so its maiden walk was on the level to the University Parks. I set off looking for signs of Spring. The bulbs outside our front door are up but flowering is still some weeks away. The snowdrops in Kew Gardens have been flowering for some time now, apparently the earliest sign of Spring ever and used by some as evidence of environmental change.

Last week's thaw meant the river Cherwell, which borders the Parks had begun to flood nearby fields.

A lonely coot, standing on a muddy patch of grass, looked bereft as it preened its feathers.

Whilst two noisy geese rushed towards us expecting titbits of food.

We walked further and finally, just as we thought Winter was keeping them hidden, we saw what we had come to find, a wonderful clump of snowdrops, protected by leaves. Spring can't be far away....

The new hip travels to Cambridge

The past week saw me in Cambridge spending time with A, (daughter no 2). I travelled there alone with my new hip and the continued icy conditions meant most of my stay was spent indoors. I was under strict instructions from all members of the family to BE CAREFUL! Honestly sometimes I think they don't trust me....but, like everyone, sooner or later self preservation kicks in. My hip would have a restful week and wait for better walking conditions.

It was a good time to be around as there was our son in law's **birthday to celebrate on Wednesday. A special meal was planned. The February edition of the BBC Good Food magazine provided inspiration for the main course; Mango chicken with spiced pilau. We decided that a birthday cake, which would double up as the dessert, would be made on Tuesday. A and I chose a Delia Smith recipe for a moist chocolate and almond cake. It appeared quite straight forward, on first reading...

but of course I am now a little rusty with my cake making and unfamiliar with A and N's kitchen so what should have taken about an hour took me a whole afternoon. It was the grating of the chocolate which really held me up...a job for the Magimix I thought. 15 minutes later, after a close encounter with a cheese grating blade and with the book of instructions covered in traces of blood, I concluded that there was no chocolate grating attachment. Luckily A's first aid kit contained plasters.

Hand grating the required amount of chocolate, beating the rock hard butter and sugar, whisking the egg whites, adding the remaining ingredients and finally assembling the cake ready for baking took quite some time.

But it was all worth it in the end.


and N celebrated his birthday in style!