I wanted to do a post today to boast of all my antics on the ski slopes – about how I raced down a black run riddled with moguls and set the new course record.
But, needless to say, it didn’t happen. We had some neighbours round for drinks the other night and they told us that the slopes are swarming with kids on Wednesdays. Because the schools here are closed on Wednesdays, all the schoolkids go to ski classes. Instead, our guests suggested, we should go on Thursday (today) if the ski report was favourable. Well, it wasn’t favourable, so now we’re going to go on Monday.
While they’re fresh in my mind, there are a couple of loose ends to tie up: both to do with the car.
The first involves the joined-up stupidity of the DVLA in Wales. As previously mentioned, our road tax ran out at the end of December. Because of how poorly we were treated by Direct Line we are now insured by a French company, which doesn’t show up on the DVLA radar. So I called them, at great expense, to ask how I could get a tax disc.
“Oh no,” I was told, “You have to have British insurance to get a tax disc. Let me give you the number of some random insurance broker”.
My blood has been boiling over this issue. After all, all I wanted to do was to give them £150. As it happens, the surprisingly helpful ladies in the Mairie (the council offices) told Becky that there’s no equivalent to road tax in France any more. So, we’ve declared the car SORN (off road) until we return to the UK in April. At which point we’ll undoubtedly have further hassle.
The other car story is to do with the theft of Becky’s handbag. Among various other bits and pieces, her car key was taken. We emptied the car of all CDs and valuables in case the thief happened by – and we had to put the steering wheel lock on at all times. We got a quote from the Toyota garage to see what should be done, and were told that they’d have to re-code the whole car’s security settings, send away for parts and replace all the locks. At a cost of some €850, plus taxes. Oh, and our French insurance has an excess of €400. That certainly wasn’t in our budget.
Luckily, when Becky reported the theft to the local police, they produced the car key and her bank card, which had been handed in by ‘an anonymous personne’. When Becky looked quizzically at the gendarme on duty, he shrugged and said:
“C’etait le voleur” – it was the thief.