Today I had planned to scale one of the many mountains around La Bourboule, but alas the weather was still inclement. Foggy and overcast, with occasional intervals of sunshine. These intervals are actually quite annoying, because every time they occur I think, aha, finally the weather has improved, and put on my boots and jacket ready to go hiking. But ten minutes later we are back to dark and gloomy, and I return home.
What is one to do on a day like that? Hunt for coins, of course! After lunch I spent an hour in the backstreets searching every nook and crevice, to no avail. La Bourboule is difficult terrain for coin collectors like me. Usually, no matter how long or short my holiday is, I find exactly one coin – usually a 2 cent copper. Last year I almost despaired, but on the last day I found a 5 cent piece under one of the tables at Les Galapagos – phew! I do hate to break a long standing habit.
This year, however, La Bourboule has been extremely generous to me. I found six coins!!!! Two 2s, one 5, and three 1s. Unheard of! The La Bourboulians are very thrifty and keep their coins safely in purses, not just loose in their pockets, and therefore rarely lose any of them. But this is obviously my lucky year!
Often while searching for coins one encounters suspicious individuals, who enquire about one’s peculiar behaviour. “What are you doing, have you lost anything?” “I am looking for coins,” I reply. An uncomprehending stare is the usual response. “Comme Onc’ Picsou” (like Uncle Scrooge) I add, helpfully. Then their faces light up, they smile approvingly and sometimes even pat me on the back. “Well done,” they say, and often enquire about my takings. Last week I found a 5 and a 2 cent piece within ten minutes, and upon hearing of this haul an old man suggested I go and invest the money in the casino (La Bourboule actually has one, though it has seen better days). “Oh no,” I replied, “I need this for my money-bin!” He smiled indulgently. Yes, the people of La Bourboule understand me and my ways.
Today, though not finding any coins, I did discover the Haunted House! Well, I don’t know whether it actually is haunted, but it jolly well should be, because it has been completely overtaken by some extremely ambitious vegetation and must be pitch-black inside. It would take a machete just to get to the mailbox! Despite this overgrowth it does seem to be inhabited, some of the greenery gets trimmed back occasionally.
Afterwards I bought a piece of cake for my Afternoon Tea, and returned home for a nice long indulgent perusal of The Economist while having my tea (no paper today, since the Press is on strike). Seeing as the weather is so disagreeable I might as well enjoy my light and airy apartment while I can. Tomorrow is the last day of my holiday, and then it’s back to the grindstones for me!
Just now as I was typing this I had a bit of a shock – Bomb Alarm!!!! There is a siren somewhere around town which seems to be tested every Tuesday at lunch time, but today is Thursday and it happened at 17:05 ! The alarm went on and on, I looked out of the window and no one was outside – all headed for the bunkers, obviously. I grabbed my purse and a packet of tissues (still got that cold) and raced down the stairs (one is not supposed to use the elevators in emergencies, of course) to the reception. Several people were checking their e-mails, looking supremely unconcerned. So I asked the receptionist whether we shouldn’t evacuate the building? Oh no, she said, there is a fire somewhere, it does not concern us. No enemy attack? I asked, just to make sure. Not as far as I know, I hope not, she replied. Oh well. It sounded like a bomb alarm to me. We used to have drills for them when I was a child. We were supposed to hide under the desks, not sure how that would have been helpful. But our school didn’t have a bunker. Upon reflection, I am not sure who would want to bomb La Bourboule. I wonder whether there even is a bunker?
