Things that can happen

A counterpoint of sorts

I saw a headline in a prominent UK newspaper a few weeks ago which preceded an article about how a fear of violent crime was gripping a community in SW France, not too far from where we live.

Notwithstanding the very real fear for some of the people mentioned in the story; it shows how a few incidents, coupled with local gossip and political and media rhetoric (of which France has just much as other countries), can amplify our perceptions of (a lack of?) safety.

I can’t say that I share any such worries about violent crime (touch wood). In France, as in most other western countries it’s at historically low levels, and therefore even a very small increase in relative risk still leaves you with… a very low risk.

It did, however, make me think about the things that you are actually afraid of, when you live in rural France. The type of stuff that would not (necessarily) make an article in a prominent UK national newspaper.

1. Getting shot

Ok, ok. I did say I wasn’t afraid of violent crime. That is true. Though it remains an occupational hazard for us runners and rural walkers in the hunting season if the local chasse is out. If hunters do shoot another person it is overwhelmingly likely to be another hunter, but hearing a shotgun or rifle blast when on foot in the woods is a less-than-ideal sceanrio when it comes to personal and/or dog safety.

Our local hunters are, in my experience, very respectful so the worry and occasional reality is less about getting shot but more about getting shocked. Shocked out of your skin that is, usually on a Sunday morning whilst tucking into a boiled egg; when a shotgun blast arrives out of nowhere from what seems like just outside the window.

2. Errant farmers

The farmers that surround our house are lovely, but despite their universally genial nature, accidents happen. In carrying out some tree-felling our neighbour at the foot of the valley took it upon himself to, accidentally, pull down a fibre-optic cable with a telehandler whilst moving logs. This precipitated a lack of internet for everyone downstream of the incident for a ten days, including us. Using a 4G dongle when 4G is almost non-existent inside a thick stone-walled house is not ideal.

A corollary of any such incident is of course the deciphering needed when speaking to said farmer, with their deep southern french accent. The nuance of trying to understand why the internet cable lies scattered across the road instead of strung up along the poles like it should can occasionally be lost.

3. Fire

The annual December ritual of donating money to our local troupe of volunteer pompiers, in return for a calendar, is a reminder that the risk of domestic fire is ever-present during the colder months when everyone fires up the wood stove. We minimised the risk of a chimney fire by welcoming an ex-Chelsea and England defender hiding in plain sight with a minor frenchification of his name, to sweep the chimneys this year.

In the summer the fire risk switches from indoors to out, when a stray spark or cigarette butt (mégot) can easily cause a wildfire.

A late-summer fire that began overnight a kilometre or so down the valley from us attracted nocturnal wanderers and small gaggles of onlookers as it spread across a few fields and charred a small (unoccupied) animal shelter.

Thankfully it wasn’t a match for the pompiers, who, doubtless having first verified that the farmer in question had bought donated for the calender the previous year, quickly-controlled it.

4. Storm damage

Trees falling on buildings and roads; hailstones damaging cars, roof tiles, vines, crops and swimming pool liners; flash foods causing landslips.

All the above can follow storms at any time of year but it’s the dreaded power cut that is the usual consequence. We lost power for about a day at the start of the summer; a potentially stressful moment if you’re in the midst of preparing food for an event and you can no longer open the fridge or the freezer.

Enedis, the power network managers, are usually pretty good at getting things back up and running; you see plenty of their blue vans criss-crossing the countryside in the wake of any storm, but they do have a lot of ground to cover, and network resilience and redundancy in the deepest reaches of nowhere is, I would imagine, not extensive.

On the plus side, you are, once the power is back on and subject to your internet working, able to enjoy the multitude of stories in La Dépêche cataloguing the damage to those less fortunate.

5. Sewerage systems

Once you’ve owned a fosse septique your life is never the same. Ensuring a clear-flowing system is one of rural life’s most important tasks, especially when you’re hosting paying guests. A not insignificant proportion of my time is taken up with inspections, flushing the pipes and, unfortunately, the occasional deblocking too. Oh the glamour.

6. Forgetting stuff at the shop

Saving the hard-hitting topic for the last entry; this is a real worry. Not in any sense of imminent nuclear winter and prepping, we’re talking here about not having any fresh milk. Or buying the wrong screws for a diy job.

The dread feeling normally strikes immediately on your return from the supermarket/hardware shop or wherever, when you realise you didn’t get the vital ingredient, or bought the wrong thing.

Depending on what you’ve forgotten, you could be easily facing up to an hour or more round trip if it’s something you need. Three trips in one day to Bricomarché in Caussade is by no means unheard of. Eek.

Thankfully milk is only a 30-40min round trip and despite the availability of UHT milk, and plenty of space in which I could store it, there are some lows to which I will not stoop.