Hi there,

Welcome back and bienvenue to new subscribers, it’s lovely to have you here!

Let’s begin…

Alethea x

Cool Summer

With June, we’re officially into Summer proper. With temperatures in the mid-30’s (celsius, for clarity with US friends!), all the seasonal kit is out and in full swing: pool, terrace umbrellas, sun loungers and for the first time… our aircon system! This is a big deal. The top floor of the main property used to be sweltering and sauna-like until the early hours in the heat. Now, instead of roasting us, the sun (via our solar panels) is powering a blissfully cool new reality. Yay!

I’d gone back and forth on the aircon decision for ages, for all the usual reasons: environmental concerns, major building disruption, general aesthetic ugliness (!) and not least, hefty financial outlay. But after the first relentless stretch of 40 (celsius) plus three Summers ago, now an annual occurrence, the decision was made. No aircon on the first and second floors just wasn’t an option for the hottest Summer months.

Since the second floor was being completely stripped back to the beams, installation disruption simply joined the long renovation list. The extra heatpumps sit neatly alongside the main chauffage unit, all powered by the solar panels on the abri roof. Choosing a gainable system (with large space-man style pipes hidden in the roof and floors) meant that the vents in each room are almost invisible making it fairly unobtrusive. Expensive to install, absolutely, yes, but refreshingly inexpensive to run. The one fly in the ointment: a mysterious rattle in one of the pumps, but the clim team is due in a few days to sort it out🤞 

Usually in June, I try to host a little terrace soiree (not as fancy as that sounds!) for everyone I know here. A casual way to welcome the season, catch-up with friends (old and new) and mark another year’s spin around the sun : ) This year, though, it just wasn’t do-able (head recovery, pff). So instead, my lovely friends surprised me with lunch at an amazing (new, to me) restaurant, La Vue sur… in Gindou. This was followed by a delicious homemade cake, champagne, gentle chat and a zooming dog bouncing between the four of us on the terrace! Small, quiet and absolutely perfect. Thank you ❤️ 

Pool life…

There may have been an incident with the pool avocado 🤦‍♀️ A firm favourite over the past few years, and surprisingly comfy, it emerged from its Winter slumber only to be intercepted by an overexcited Romy and hauled off into the garden. Nuff said. It now joins the flamingo and unicorn in recycling. Luckily, L’s crocodile is still going strong (ready for action when he arrives in a few weeks), as is the excellent spraying octopus!  

As for the furry lifeguard… she’s not mellowed in the slightest 🤦‍♀️ Barking, racing around the pool and dramatically diving in to rescue you remains her go-to poolside behaviour. A brief hiatus due to an injured paw (almost fully mended) only paused things temporarily. So, for a relaxing swim, Romy remains banished to the terrace!

Small villages and city walks

June 2023: Within two months of settling full-time in rural France, the reality of what that actually means day to day starts to sink in. Mostly, it’s fine – you just have to be organised. For a list-wielding person such as myself this means multiple lists per destination / route of things to pick up, so each trip is maximised and there’s no need to charge off on long-haul missions for something as trivial as a single pack of linguine. It’s quite a change from The Hague, where living slap-bang in the city centre meant everything was right on the doorstep either by foot or bike.

One thing that’s begun to concern me is Romy’s social life - not my own, but my dog’s! She’s used to seeing at least fifteen four-legged friends a day, whizzing about town in the bakfiets and generally receiving passer-by adoration on every sortie. So, it’s quite an adjustment for her. The perks of her new paradise are enormous: three hectares of fenced property to patrol, plenty of space to zoom around and a ton of interesting sniffs. But… I can tell she misses her social life (hum, or maybe it’s a proxy for mine!).

So, in addition to fixing doggie play-dates I decide to start regular ‘city walks’. I put that in quotes because the nearest cities immediately available are in fact tiny villages and towns. I figure it’s a good way to recon the area by parking up and taking some time to explore – with the vague hope of meeting the odd dog, cat or person en route!

We head off to Besse for an early morning vide-grenier and a general scout-around. Leaving my guests fast asleep, we arrive by 0800. The vide-grenier was small but already bustling and had a good mix of random stalls selling the contents of attics as well as a few professional brocante vendors. Our prize was an old enamelled jug, perfect for flowers, for the grand total of €2.

With only one dog lurking under a stall for Romy to chat with, I decide to pootle about the village before the heat sets in. We stroll up to the ancient eglise, sitting at the heart of the village. It’s quite the example of 12^th century architecture: the austere building is softened by an enormous arch around the door, surrounded by extremely intricate carvings, all framing a beautiful battered old door. Once up the steep flight of centuries old worn steps I push gently, but the door is locked, so we take a perimeter tour instead. The church sits in pretty, well-kept gardens, with flowers and soon to be plentiful fruit trees. Dotted throughout are old gravestones and family crypts.

Fortunately, we are not the only ones here. Romy is delighted to meet a golden retriever, and I chat with its owner. While they charge around playing, she tells me about the village she’s lived in her whole life. It’s such a pretty place, and I try to soak up her tales to share at breakfast on our return.

We’ve since re-visited Besse on many occasions. I have lovely photos of my godchildren high on the steps, framed beautifully by the architecture as they examine the carvings (see above). Just a stone’s throw away is the Chien Vert, a great restaurant with a pretty garden terrace in the centre of the village. Open seasonally, from May through to September, it also happens to be run by friends, M and J. They serve a small but flavourful menu every evening using the freshest ingredients, it’s well worth a visit.

Last week, I saw the inside of this beautiful church for the first time. Sadly, not in a tourist-ing capacity, but for a service to honour the life of a much-loved friend and neighbour. It was an extremely sad occasion. One way I attempt to control the flow of tears at funerals is by focusing intensely on the surroundings, church or nature – whatever I can to distract myself enough to regulate emotions. Looking up at the enormous, vaulted ceilings, roughly hewn arches, tiny windows and beautiful stained glass helped. Centuries ago, people built this. It will outlast any of us, and in that thought I found a moment of calm and peace for our friend’s release from pain and illness.

⛪️ For anyone interested, there’s more accurate architectural and historical detail on the church, Eglise Saint-Martin de Besse, here.

More Snapshots of the Domaine Les Plonges ‘journey’ every edition. 

Possibly you found your way here via Instagram? @domainelesplonges? If so, an extra Bienvenue! You’ll already know I love a good visual. So here I’ll share a few more…

Whether it’s discovering unique work by artists and designers from near and far or rummaging through vide greniers, brocantes, and hidden treasure troves, I’m always on the lookout! I’ll be sharing my favourite artists, designers and sourcing spots here 😄 

Treasure trove

Sometimes the best finds are right under your nose – visible only when you have a moment of inspiration, a little time and a bit of creative energy with which to re-purpose something old and long forgotten. At Les P, I’ve discovered a steady supply of such objects tucked away in the Grand Grange.

Venturing up into the hayloft brought even more surprises. I am not a fan of heights. Correction, I am terrified of heights. So, I had not dared to climb the rickety old ladder before. It took some solid encouragement, hand and ladder holding, to finally ascend. Hidden from view from below, the hayloft revealed a huge stache of wooden items. Against one wall, a large pile of neatly chopped firewood, extra tiles and beautiful scraps of old oak. A big tick for the log-burner, future brico projects and rustic shelves.

Opposite sat a more jumbled assortment. We ferreted about and soon unearthed a couple of big wooden troughs. Initially, we thought they had been used for watering or feeding animals. Later learning they were traditional bread-making troughs. Old, beautifully aged and full of character they were an unexpected gem. Instantly, I was dreaming up ways to incorporate them into the future barn renovation: perhaps rustic sinks in the kitchen, or suspended over tables as a dramatic centrepiece, trailing with plants. We’d also discovered a pile of old prune racks, apparently quite the sought-after item now, which will eventually make a striking wall feature or possibly some Calder-inspired mobile installation!

In my mind, anything found at Les P should stay at Les P, as a way to preserve that connection with the property’s agricultural past. My predecessor, B, felt the same. She’d made sure to leave behind the original bread oven paddle, fragments of lava-style rock and various larger iron relics. Last year, her daughter visited with a gift: a beautiful ammonite discovered in the garden during renovations. A’s geologist brother had identified it as an upper cretaceous perisphintes from 70-80 million years ago, a creature that went extinct around the same time as the dinosaurs, 65 million years ago. Wow! It had inadvertently been packed up when B moved out, and she wanted it returned to its original home. So, it will remain at Les P long after I’m gone.

Soon, I’d collected quite the supply of barn treasures. But, what to do with them? I’m not a huge fan of trinkets or dust-magnets. I wanted to weave these finds back into the fabric of the property in a way that felt lived-in, not museum-like.

Cue a small light-bulb moment and the first (of what I hope will be many) tah-dah re-use / upcycling successes! A rustic portmanteau, perfect for all the outdoor gubbins you need by the main door: dog leads, secateurs, wet coats, umbrellas and…more dog stuff!

After a vinegar soak and some serious wire-brushing to lift off the worst of the rust, I played about with different configurations. Once I’d settled on a pleasing design, it was off to Betty and Maxim, at La Fee Railleuse, for a bit of fire 🔥They’re brilliant local ironmongers and responsible for all the ironwork at Les P. Fixing the pieces together took them minutes and suddenly those old barn relics had a whole new, useful, purpose. Some coats of rust-sealer later, and it was ready to hang.

Of course, nothing is ever simple when it comes to these thick, old stone walls. It required serious kit and far more DIY confidence than I possess. But now it’s up, and I can’t imagine the property without it. Practical, sturdy and one of a kind, it’s a little bit of Les P’s history given a new lease of life!

🎦 Click here for a video of the whole portmanteau process : )

Slow(er) content consumption

With this being Edition #10, I thought it a good moment to sense-check with you, lovely readers, on what works, or doesn’t! So, for starters, here’s a vote poll : )

• And, if you do like this newsletter - I’d be grateful if you would share it with family or friends who may also be interested.

With the constant overwhelm of news and content, I’ve been trying to get more intentional about what type of content I consume. It’s all too easy to lose an hour (or more) endlessly scrolling through news or apps to find anything worthwhile.

Over the past year, I’ve found myself subscribing to more newsletters – curated, considered and interesting, funny or useful. Some have been great, others not so much so there has been a fair bit of unsubscribing too. I do wish there was one definitive directory you could search, but alas, not that I’ve found. So, my question this edition:

• Where do you find interesting newsletters? Tips or recommendations appreciated : )

There are a number of directories, and a lot of them are IMO, rubbish, but amongst them, these are the ones I like so far:

• The Sample - good for more lifestyle type newsletters

• Inbox Reads - they have a really comprehensive, and good, selection.

Why Subscribe, even though this Newsletter is free?

Simply put, for two key reasons:

1. Safety - it helps me know who’s reading.

2. Support - it plays a role in building the business side of Les Plonges.

There are free and paid subscription options: With a free subscription, you’ll receive a bi-monthly newsletter- just like this one, but different (obvs!) - every other Thursday. With a paid subscription, it’s not just more of the same, you’ll also receive a long list of additional stuff. More details here.

Whichever way you subscribe, I’m delighted to have you along for the adventure - thank you 💛

• Ps: If you discover Adventures & Ateliers is simply not your thing you can unsubscribe easily and anytime via the link in footer below.

• New disclaimer: If big life stuff happens, I’m giving myself permission to deliver this newsletter a day or even a week late!

Pps: If you’re interested in the tech I’m using for this, it’s Beehiiv. I did a LOT of research on platforms and I’m happy to explain why etc in more detail, just ask. They’ve also given me a partner link, and this gives anyone using the link a 30-day free trial and 20% off your first three months on any paid plan. Note, it’s an affiliate link and I may receive commission on any purchases made through it.

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