Just when I was starting to feel like Eurydice trapped forever in the cold underworld, here comes Orpheus. A brave little smattering of snowdrops in the wasteland out back, the reappearance of daylight in the mornings and a pushing back of the darkness until after I get home from work, and a pleasant mildness in the air are all it takes to put a spring back in my step.
The joy of realizing that the earth is still turning despite the financial crisis is almost but not quite worth the misery of the longest coldest winter in 30 years. Winters in northern Europe are unpleasant even if you have been going to the gym since you were 20. At my time of life they don't get any easier. The crisis has also brought the subject of retirement into sharp relief. Mine should be a mere 12 years away, Zeno's dichotomy permitting, and Belgium with its damp climate is No Place for Old Men, or women for that matter.
I have therefore been idly perusing locations for my eventual retirement. I have long favoured a return to France, preferably in the warmer bit south of the Loire but a safe distance from the seriously hot bits. The crisis has come a tad too soon for my liking. It appears a number of Brits are selling up and going home, their pensions having lost up to a third of their value due to the drop in the exchange rate. If I were to retire in a year or two I could clean up. By the time I am ready to buy some serious hardwood patio furniture, I suspect the wheel of purchasing power will have turned and I find myself living next door to a Moldovan version of Boycie and Marlene.
Or bite the bullet and buy a beach hut in Ostend.
The joy of realizing that the earth is still turning despite the financial crisis is almost but not quite worth the misery of the longest coldest winter in 30 years. Winters in northern Europe are unpleasant even if you have been going to the gym since you were 20. At my time of life they don't get any easier. The crisis has also brought the subject of retirement into sharp relief. Mine should be a mere 12 years away, Zeno's dichotomy permitting, and Belgium with its damp climate is No Place for Old Men, or women for that matter.
I have therefore been idly perusing locations for my eventual retirement. I have long favoured a return to France, preferably in the warmer bit south of the Loire but a safe distance from the seriously hot bits. The crisis has come a tad too soon for my liking. It appears a number of Brits are selling up and going home, their pensions having lost up to a third of their value due to the drop in the exchange rate. If I were to retire in a year or two I could clean up. By the time I am ready to buy some serious hardwood patio furniture, I suspect the wheel of purchasing power will have turned and I find myself living next door to a Moldovan version of Boycie and Marlene.
Or bite the bullet and buy a beach hut in Ostend.
29 comments:
Even Ostende can get hot in the summer, dear. France would be lovely - somewhere not too far away from a river that you can swim in. Just for those really hot days.
Is sounds perfect, milady! I can imagine you in a cafe being served your afternoon tea by boyish, sun-tanned waiters, while bantering with dirty old Frenchmen in berets.
Les grenouilles sont merveilleux!
Ah, Orpheus the Klutz: I don't think he was looking back amorously, I think he was being all alpha-male and snapping "Can't you keep up, woman!".
I have this mental picture of Belgium being full of old ladies, and rather censorious ones at that (so perhaps you're right)
Ostend, the setting of lesbian vampire classic Daughters of Darkness! I will be a frequent out-of-season visitor, Daphne.
Promise of spring - aint it grand?
I suppose SW UK is out of the question? You'd be very welcome but possible bored to tears.
We(my friends) graduated from the Dordogne to the Languedoc, around Lodeve, but that was a while ago. Who knows what it's like now?
Ahhh the Loire, with it's distinctive Art de vivre.
Bourgueil, St Nicolas de Bourgueil, Chinon, Saumur Champigny... the Briare canal.
Go now dear lady.. go now and live life to the full.
we had thought about the languedoc region, but then everything changed...but i am in savannah, so i am truly not complaining! all the best, sugar! ;) xoxox
Daphne,
As you well know, I'm a simple man. I've eagerly followed your exploits in exercise. You've communicated that youthful vigor and zest for life that had me momentarily ponder and then dismiss any thoughts that I refrain from eating more chocolate (because it's there for the taking).
Now you would have me consider the ramblings of a Greek imbecile who asserts that "you can't get anywhere if you're there".
Like you, I too now look for a place I might call "U's Haven". I guess I should start packing before I come to the conclusion that it is only a thought with infinite possibilities that will never occur.
In the meantime (in between time), pop this number from The Steve Miller Band in your iPod and have a great weekend.
U
I shall retire to the west coast of Scotland and eat ice-cream in the depths of winter. My entire life is set upon that goal. But I may also accept a retirement in Poperinge or Beersel. Each have appeal.
Ooohh, Zeno's paradoxes, you just made my day! Here's another one for him: the Hare mortgages everything to acquire a gîtes in the Loire while the tortoise saves assiduously to buy the beach hut in Ostend; the former's neighbours are Reg and Irene Wingher and Gaston Egotist-Bâtard while the latter gets to hang out with Marvin Gaye and go fishing with Django F****** Reinhardt.
Sadly, the Moldovan version of Boycie has already had his flat in Alicante reposesed and is returning to Bacău with his wife, 7 kids, and an increased hatred of gypsies.
Zed, my solution to heatwaves is a plant sprayer filled with Evian. You can catch bilharzia from swimming in rivers.
GB, dirty old Frenchmen? I do hope I wouldn't find myself living anywhere near Sarkozy.
Lycus, I think I may have got my mythologies in a twist, I might have meant Persephone. No matter - what are you inferring about Belgium? I don't mind the censorious, but not so much of the old if you don't mind.
Boyo, if you're a fan of Harry Kummel, try and read the novels of Nicholas Royle - "The Director's Cut" and "Antwerp" notably. If you can't find them I've got copies.
Pat, so many places, so little time! Anywhere in UK IS out of the question as far as retirement is concerned. If I'm ever down your way before then, I'll pop in for tea and a scone.
Jimmy, you know your wines, mon ami. There's a cheeky little vintage brewed down in Devon by monks which is popular in your neck of the woods, I believe. I cannae retire yet, big man, at least not until the exchange rate improves.
Savannah, your town is top of my list of places to visit when I make it across the pond. I hope they gave John Berendt the freedom of the city, his book has put the place on the map.
U, what kind of chocolate do you favour? Please don't say Hershey's. The Greek imbecile says before you can get anywhere you have to get halfway there, and then start again. It's a logic trap. But the way the pension age is slipping out of my grasp, he could turn out to be right.
Mme D, would that be Nardini's of Largs on the Costa del Weegie? I hope to make a pilgrimage there myself before too long, I hear it's worth the trip.
Gadjo, fair point, although a leisurely lunch under the olive trees in March would trump a bag of chips on a freezing North Sea beach, even with "Sexual Healing" on the radio 24/7. Who will be the New Money in 12 years, I wonder?
Sadly, Nardini's is now kaput! It went belly up recently and is now a mere shell.
Largs is a much sadder place for it's demise.
Daphne,
"Hershey's? You insult the remaining brain cells that didn't expire during my fall. I am a spoiled man at this stage of my life. I have a friend who travels frequently to Europe who knowing my passion for chocolate will bring me bars from Belgium, France and Spain.
I remember tasting something from a place that use to be part of Russia but it wasn't that good (something I regret saying because it was a gift from her).
They grow cocoa in Costa Rica and I got up close and personal; learning how chocolate is made. I once tasted an Argentine chocolate with red chile. The taste blew me away!
In Florence (Italy) I found chocolate reigns. Stop in any chocolate shop in Florence and the taste is fantastic. I am a kid in a candy store when it comes to chocolate.
Where I live now (Smallville), means that I usually go to the local Godiva and pick up an assortment of truffles. Aside from truffles, I'll buy imported bars of (dark) chocolate.
U
Somewhere cosmopolitan in balmy climes... Butlins in Cleethorpes?
Mougins, Daphne. I am going there with my new consort, Lord Numb, next month. My char will insist on saying "Mew-ginns", but I smile tolerantly. Please do not go to Knokke Heist hoping for fun. I made that mistake once.
Jimmy, a little bird told me Nardini's has reopened. Could you just nip down to Largs and check? If it's open, bring us back a Paolo Nutini with a dollop of Armando Ianucci on the side.
U, I knew U were a man of wealth and taste. U even eat FRENCH chocolate? U like to live dangerously, my friend. May I recommend to U the chocmaster Pierre Marcolini and also a brand called Café Tasse, who put unusual things like black pepper in their choc bars.
Kev, I have never been to Cleethorpes. And, God help me, I never shall.
Clarissa, Knokke may not be fun but it is the only chavless spot on the Belgian coast. Le tout Charleroi is let loose on the prom at Blankenberge on bank holidays. You'd rather be in Cleethorpes.
Just so long as you don't expect them to be home made.
Chocolate with pepper! Talk about hot chocolate.
Just give me a good ol' bitter-sweet, dark, I'm happy.
There's a prince in England who makes Duchy Chocolates with organic cocoa from the Guyana Amerindians...or he did, once.
Why does Zeno paradox make me think of life in a fish bowl?
I fancied retiring to France, but there is only so much that Google translator can do. So I have my beady little eye on Staithes, near Whitby. Best Fish 'n Chips in the world. And that's very important.
Sx
Dasphne,
Thank you for the 411 hook-up; you are so very kind to me.
When it comes to good chocolate, I do not discriminate.
After reading your post on retirement, I dispatched myself to Nicaragua (it's still Central America and I can see and hear the Pacific). I'm here looking at property and seeing what I can do to get myself in (or out of) trouble.
You know I'm casing the joint for chocolate. I've asked quite a few folks who speak Spanglish about cocoa, but they ain't feeling my vibe yet. I guess I've got to kick The U charm up to another level.
I've already placed an order from Pierre so I'm hoping it'll be waiting for my return to the states.
You know I'm in your debt now; and The U don't forget debts
Better shut up cause I been drinking whiskey and folks are milling round me so I'll holla when I get back to the US.
Thanks Daphne!
U
Pat, M&S or Waitrose scones will do, but I do hope you make your own jam. If not my image of you will be shattered.
GG, perhaps you're thinking of Nemo? If I lived where you do with fresh mangoes and pineapples on tap I might not have such an addiction to chocolate.
Scarlet, good idea not to retire to a foreign country if you don't speak the language. I presume if you're retiring to Whitby you'll be taking lessons in Old Norse?
U, it's the refining that makes chocolate so delicious. Did U order the Marcolini chocs from the New York store? $68 for the small (25 pc) selection?!! It's half the price here. Tell me about the retirement properties in Nica. I imagine it to be like Spain but without the English pubs and fish & chip shops.
"... if you don't speak the language." Milady, do you speak Belgian?
Daphne,
I ordered a truffle assortment from Pierre and I ordered several bars of Tasse Belgian.
I found an ideal area north of Managua (beachfront property). I am seriously considering cashing in some chips and moving there for a few months to get the ball rolling.
I need to examine my books and get an idea for what I want versus what I need.
Anyway...the folks at Pierre wrote me today to say let them know if I want it shipped out today or on Monday. That's not cool Daphne. I clearly said I wanted it delivered on Friday, now they tell be some BS about "being specific?"
Hopefully, I'll have the Tasse when I arrive on Sunday.
You know my mouth is watering now. I could kiss you Daphne, but I'll just have to say, "thanks.
U
Have you got a dust pan? I'll sweep up the broken glass.
I did all that stuff, with varying success, but I'm done with it now.
Yippee!
Inky, I speak half of it fluently and I'm working on the other half. Thanks to Eddy Wally, Belgium's answer to Elton John, I can now announce my intention to jump out of an aeroplane in fluent Flemish. Anyway I'm not retiring here, am I?
U, I'm all of a quiver now. What if you don't like it? I'll feel all responsible. That beachfront property in Nica sounds just the ticket. I was worried it was going to be Ostend again for the summer holidays. You can thank me when you come to pick me up at the airport - before you carry my steamer trunk to the limo.
Pat, I'm making a stab at kumquat marmalade this weekend! Stand by with the dustpan.
Daphne,
It's too late for doubts now dear; I have faith in your suggestions.
Carrying your "steamer trunk to the limo?" Hmmmm
You won't need many clothes so leave the steamer. Whatever you need can easily be found here.
U
I clicked on your Eddy Wally link and now I want to jump out of the plane in fluent Flemish. Accordions like that are illegal, under the Geneva Convention.
Eddy Wally is the main reason NOT to retire in Belgium. He'll probably still be going when I retire. The Mick Jagger of Flanders.
No he's not, he's clearly trying to invent a new method power generation so as to do without Walloon coal: just hook up those pensioners to a turbine and get them swaying.
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