The temperature here in Saint-Aignan this morning is -4.5ºC, about +24ºF. It's cold, but I for one am happy about that. It means we're having a normal winter. The last two winters were much warmer than normal, and very wet. And the last two summers were abnormally dry and hotter than normal. I'm hoping we might have a normal summer in 2021 after having the first normal winter in a while.
Here are a few more photos of the gîte we rented for our stay in Saint-Pierre-d'Oléron in 2008. There was a fireplace but we didn't need to use it. We were on the Île d'Oléron from May 17 to May 23, and the weather was pleasant. There was a television set for news and weather reports. We were traveling with a laptop, which make me think we must have had an internet connection, but I don't really remember.
The kitchen was perfectly serviceable. Microwave. Dishwasher. Full-size stove with oven. Decent fridge. Hot and cold running water... We did some light-weight cooking, making, for example, pasta with white clam sauce. More about that later.
We had adventures with the coffee maker. On the first morning, a Sunday, one of us (Cheryl) accidentally broke the glass carafe. That was a disaster, because she loved her morning coffee and couldn't go without. We didn't want to bother the gîte owners early on a Sunday morning. Cheryl and I drove to the closest supermarket to buy a replacement carafe. It was closed on Sundays. We drove farther to another supermarket, which turned out to be open. We found the carafe we needed. We were back in business.
We drove back, made coffee, and got ourselves ready for a busy day. The next morning, Monday, Cheryl again accidentally broke the coffee carafe. There was something weird about the way the carafe fit on the coffee maker base that caused it the carafe to crack when you took it off the stand. We laughed about that accident all week. We drove back to the supermarket and bought another carafe. I happen to remember that they cost 17 euros apiece. We managed to use that one for the rest of our stay without breaking it. (Sorry for the blurry kitchen photo.)
These stairs led up to the second floor — half-floor, really, because it was only half the size of the ground floor. There was a bedroom up there, and a half-bath. That's the downstairs full-bath on the right in this photo. The downstairs bedroom (Cheryl's) was to the right of the bathroom, behind the kitchen. Maybe that makes sense... It was a good arrangement — privacy for Cheryl, privacy for Walt and me.
The bathroom had a shower, toilet, and sink — and also a washing machine, I now remember. I don't think we used it. The shower was what I think is called une douche (douche means shower) à l'italienne. An "Italian shower" has no shower pan. The drain for the shower is installed directly in the tile floor, which slopes down slightly to make sure water runs into the drain.
Finally, the last photo shows the bedroom that Walt, Callie the collie, and I slept in.
We were lucky that the staircase had treads with risers. A few years later we stayed with Callie in a gîte where the staircase had open treads. Callie was afraid to climb up to the sleeping loft in that gîte, and there was no bedroom downstairs. We slept upstairs, and the dog slept downstairs. That worked out, and we learned something. I don't know if all dogs have a fear of open-tread stairs. When we had our loft here at home in Saint-Aignan finished in 2010, we put in a staircase with risers, and it's lucky we did.
Here are a few more photos of the gîte we rented for our stay in Saint-Pierre-d'Oléron in 2008. There was a fireplace but we didn't need to use it. We were on the Île d'Oléron from May 17 to May 23, and the weather was pleasant. There was a television set for news and weather reports. We were traveling with a laptop, which make me think we must have had an internet connection, but I don't really remember.
The kitchen was perfectly serviceable. Microwave. Dishwasher. Full-size stove with oven. Decent fridge. Hot and cold running water... We did some light-weight cooking, making, for example, pasta with white clam sauce. More about that later.
We had adventures with the coffee maker. On the first morning, a Sunday, one of us (Cheryl) accidentally broke the glass carafe. That was a disaster, because she loved her morning coffee and couldn't go without. We didn't want to bother the gîte owners early on a Sunday morning. Cheryl and I drove to the closest supermarket to buy a replacement carafe. It was closed on Sundays. We drove farther to another supermarket, which turned out to be open. We found the carafe we needed. We were back in business.
We drove back, made coffee, and got ourselves ready for a busy day. The next morning, Monday, Cheryl again accidentally broke the coffee carafe. There was something weird about the way the carafe fit on the coffee maker base that caused it the carafe to crack when you took it off the stand. We laughed about that accident all week. We drove back to the supermarket and bought another carafe. I happen to remember that they cost 17 euros apiece. We managed to use that one for the rest of our stay without breaking it. (Sorry for the blurry kitchen photo.)
These stairs led up to the second floor — half-floor, really, because it was only half the size of the ground floor. There was a bedroom up there, and a half-bath. That's the downstairs full-bath on the right in this photo. The downstairs bedroom (Cheryl's) was to the right of the bathroom, behind the kitchen. Maybe that makes sense... It was a good arrangement — privacy for Cheryl, privacy for Walt and me.
The bathroom had a shower, toilet, and sink — and also a washing machine, I now remember. I don't think we used it. The shower was what I think is called une douche (douche means shower) à l'italienne. An "Italian shower" has no shower pan. The drain for the shower is installed directly in the tile floor, which slopes down slightly to make sure water runs into the drain.
Finally, the last photo shows the bedroom that Walt, Callie the collie, and I slept in.
We were lucky that the staircase had treads with risers. A few years later we stayed with Callie in a gîte where the staircase had open treads. Callie was afraid to climb up to the sleeping loft in that gîte, and there was no bedroom downstairs. We slept upstairs, and the dog slept downstairs. That worked out, and we learned something. I don't know if all dogs have a fear of open-tread stairs. When we had our loft here at home in Saint-Aignan finished in 2010, we put in a staircase with risers, and it's lucky we did.By the way, I have spent a good bad hour this morning trying to get the formatting to work in this post. I don't know what Blogger changed since yesterday morning, but I think they changed something. Very frustrating.
I never knew that was known as an Italian shower. (Wonder what it's called in other countries.) We've had them in Norway, and an old friend had one in his railroad flat in Brooklyn. The photos look cartoon-like.
ReplyDeleteWhich photos?
DeleteTo me, all of them actually. Something about the colors and angles.
DeleteIt's probably because they weren't good photos to start with, and I tried to save them, so they look less natural than they might.
DeleteThese photos look natural on my iPad. It probably depends on what kind of screen you look at them.
DeleteI had so much trouble composing and formatting my post yesterday that I think I have a good excuse for the photos not being of professional quality. As I said, they weren't very good to start with. They were taken nearly 13 years ago, and the light was not good inside the gîte. I wanted to salvage them not for their esthetic qualities but for the documentation they constitute. Thanks for letting me know, CHM, that they weren't too hard on the eyes. By the way, this morning I forgot to click the Publish button on my blog before I got busy walking the dog and preparing lunch. That's why my post was so late.
DeleteI hope you didn't take my comment as criticism. I love the effect you ended up with.
DeleteWell, I didn't take it as criticism, but I know those photos were over-processed, because they needed salvaging. Anyway, I was looking at Google images for douche à l'italienne and what the expression means in French seems to be something like "walk-in shower" as opposed to a climb-in shower where you have to stand in a bathtub. It turns out the shower we had put in a few years ago is also an Italian-style shower.
DeleteThis is a very nice looking gîte with all amenities needed.
ReplyDeleteEvery dog we've ever owned has been fearful of open, riserless stairs.
ReplyDeleteI suspected that was the case.
DeleteYes, my brave Siberian husky was terrified of riserless stairs. I wonder if it's because they can't judge the distance properly, because everything for them is in black and white?
DeleteOh, it is so enjoyable to follow your vacation through your gîte photos :)
ReplyDeleteSo odd about that coffee carafe!
D’une cafetière deux verseuses.
ReplyDeleteSorry about the extra comment and deletion. There's something either about my machine or your Blogger that thinks backing up to look at something again means you want to post your comment again, and again.
ReplyDeleteThere certainly is some funny stuff going on with Blogger. Maybe they'll get it under control again soon.
DeleteOn another blog, I have problems posting comments. I don't know if it is my browser, my tablet or Disqus. I am typing a comment and everything disappears leaving just a blank? It is very frustating and time consuming because you're back to square one.
DeleteI remember you told me once that you sometimes composed comments using Notepad or something similar and then cut and pasted the text into the Blogger comment field. Can you do that on your iPad? I often copy the comment post to the clipboard before I press the Publish button. That way, if it goes funny, I still have my text.
DeleteYes, as now, I most of the time compose my comments on my "Notes", especially if they're going to be longish. And I paste them. But I type directly comments fifteen words or fewer. It is those that disappear while typing! Again and again, joyeusetés de l'électronique.
Delete