The earth moves

Last Wednesday we had a very nice young geologist Alberto at the house to carry out testing which will enable him to prepare the hydrogeological report that is required as part of our planning violation.  Our whole area is seismic, there must be plenty of available information about this but of course our Comune requires a special report for each property.   Alberto said that in the years since our house was built there had been 4 notable earthquakes, apart from a little shaking of pots in the kitchen they did not affect us at all. The house has stood steady for almost 50 years.

He arrived with a wonderful little machine that gave MrFF boys’ toys envy.  This hammered a steel rod into the ground and he took various readings about the strata.  Afterwards he took a coffee and a couple UK ginger biscuits on the terrace.  Mr FF had selected Alberto because he likes walking, cycling and cats, so far he has been very helpful.   We chatted about the Giro due to start on Saturday and our favourite cyclists, his the late great Marco Pantani. I sent him off with a jar of marmalade.

Next morning I read on our local news that there had been a minor overnight earthquake down in the valley, the epicentre about 20 miles from our house. It was felt in locations we frequent where it woke people in the night.  Seems to me this is more than a coincidence.

A light magnitude 2.9 earthquake hit 27 km (17 mi) away from Rome, Lazio,  Italy, in the early morning of Thursday, May 8, 2025 at 3.42 am local time (GMT +2). The quake had a very shallow depth of 10.4 km (6 mi) and was felt by many near the epicenter.

Meanwhile in the kitchen

Shortly after we arrived I was given a large bucket of bitter oranges to make marmalade.  I had been promised these before we left so I came prepared with 12 matching jars and 12 printed labels.  I did think about bringing my trusted jam pan but that seemed a step too far particularly as last year I bought locally an inferior pan for the job.

The Italian oranges, like most things here, are a challenge and getting a set is tricky.  I used the oranges in three batches over 3 days, the first lot required a second boiling, the second batch worked perfectly, by the third I was quite nonchalant using much more fruit than the recipe required.  In total I produced 27 jars, or the equivalent because I ran out of glass jars and resorted to a plastic fridge storage box until a jar becomes available.  So I have plenty to give to my donor and to friends here and back in the UK.  I have already given one to the nice geologist who was here this morning carrying out a hydrological survey as part of our planning violation. 

Yesterday at the end of the process I had a major clean up in my sticky kitchen whilst pondering where I am going to keep all these jars.  And yes the marmalade tastes delicious, fresh and fruity with a set sufficient to keep it on the toast.

Weather lovely, garden not so much

We arrived safely early Monday evening after our long drive to find the supermarket just off the autostrada where we usually stock up with essentials is permanently closed.  That’s a pity as it was convenient but we found another slightly off route and got enough provisions for a couple of days.

It was a delight to pull into our parking area and see my lemon tree, that turned out to be also grafted with an orange, is full of fruit.  The wisteria is in flower and the grass thigh high.  Next morning we were up early, started work before breakfast, it continues to be a mammoth task.  The house as ever is dusty and full of dead insects, plus ones that somehow got inside for winter and are now coming back to life, I am showing them the way out.

We were out for a delicious lunch yesterday at our Danish friends’ house, they have been back a while and got everything in order which was inspirational, so nice to relax, chat and enjoy the sun.  On our way out we called at Mario’s and there was our cat Vincenzo who Mario took down to his house last November.  Our ginger boy was pleased to see us and looked well.  We have said that it’s not fair to bring Vincenzo back here for a couple of months then move him again, the cat should decide, if he wants to be with us he’ll find his own way here.  We’ve said this several times including again yesterday but when we left his house Mario repeated that he was being Vincenzo back.   

It’s a public holiday today, Labour Day, but not for us as there’s plenty more to do but I am hoping for some relaxing time too.  It’s all going to be so lovely once we get the work done, hopefully well before we leave again.

In France

Today is our calm day, we are in the champagne region of France, it’s a sunny morning and we have nothing planned until we go out for dinner this evening.  Our journey so far has been eventful.  

My dentist managed to bring my final appointment forward by an hour on Thursday, immediately before our drive to Dover.  After the examination and x ray Martin pronounced the implant perfect, smiles all round. So off we went, we hadn’t travelled 10 miles before we came upon roadworks and a queue of traffic.  MrFF turned round to use the alternative route, discovered there was no alternative route and rejoined the queue further back with much huffing and puffing.  On the motorway we were stuck behind a wide load that looked like a bungalow being relocated.  It was accompanied by an escort vehicle that prevented overtaking so we all drove at reduced speed in convoy. Every 50 miles or so the escort allowed a few cars to overtake.  I found it all very civilised but more impatient drivers tried pulling off on slip roads to rejoin further down the route and hopefully in front of the obstacle, generally this didn’t work.

Things were quite tense as MrFF had set his heart on getting the 4 pm ferry. You are allowed to take one earlier or later than you have booked.  We were booked on the 6 pm which with the hour difference would have been a late arrival at our B&B.  We reached check in about 20 minutes before sailing, an extremely pleasant young man said we could take the earlier ferry or one a few minutes later to Dunkerque rather than Calais, fantastic.  The crossing was smooth and quiet, after dashing to the toilet as we hadn’t stopped at all, we settled down with our picnic food and a plate of chips from the cafe, that was our lunch and dinner.

We had booked a very lovely B&B less than half an hour from Calais, it had great reviews about the charming hosts and their adorable cats, quirky decor, a beautiful garden and great breakfast, such a treat.  We emailed from the ferry to let them know our arrival time and received a response telling us where to park, a door code for access and the name of our room, which all seemed a bit impersonal.  We easily found the place, had an argument about where exactly we should park, either was correct. The property was in a narrow village street with cars parked opposite the entrance, it wasn’t easy and somehow MrFF reversed into the wall at the entrance putting a small dint in his beloved car, which apparently was my fault.  Enough said.

We got into the property and found our room which was very nice with a terrace onto a little garden area with table and chairs. 

We took a look round the place, it was lovely but completely deserted, we found a great kitchen area with instructions about breakfast, help yourself, put your crockery etc in the dishwasher, clean your table.  Back in our room I wondered where our convivial hosts were not to mention the cats,  I said to MrFF maybe they live next door and the guests are in this modern part.  I did wonder if the other guests were in there having a jolly time while we sat on our bed.  I did some research, on the website none of the 4 rooms looked like ours, I showed MrFF the lovely garden which he said definitely wasn’t here.  He also confirmed the email with code etc was from a woman, where I expected to stay was run by two men.  When we’d booked this accommodation MrFF had shown me a photo of the modern building and said would you like to stay here, it’s very convenient etc and I agreed. I said give me the name of the property and I’ll take a look, but I’d looked at a different place in a completely different location.  We were in a modern house that accommodated 15 people, the reviews were varied, and we had no idea if we were alone or there were other guests.

Before we went to bed MrFF went to check the car and see if it was possible to close the gate to the parking area, it wasn’t. He said he thought there might be other people in the building as he’d heard sound of movement.  We settled in to find the lights in the corridor which had a motion sensor kept coming on, in fact they were on and off all night illuminating our room as the door wasn’t a great fit, a bit like sleeping in a lighthouse.  

Next morning we went off to the kitchen for breakfast where we met a very nice Belgian man who was staying with his wife and like us had wondered if they were alone.  He hadn’t received the key code and had to conect the owners, he was as surprised as us at the do it yourself experience.  We worked out where everything was, how to use the coffee machine, made toast and had an adequate breakfast sadly without fresh bakery products, I tidied the kitchen, vacuumed up our crumbs, and we left.

It’s not an experience I would repeat, the property was beautiful, well equipped and comfortable, rather like an upmarket youth hostel without the comeraderie. It worked fine for us but if the property had been fully occupied by strangers it wouldn’t.

Next day our drive to the champagne region was easy, we enjoyed lunch at a boulangerie we often use, stopped at a supermarket for French treats to take to Italy and were into our apartment by 5, time for a swim and sauna.   I am hoping for no more surprises when we restart our travels tomorrow.

Our happy place

Although we start the long drive to Italy next week currently we are having such a good time in Ilkley it’s going to be hard to leave.

We’ve enjoyed beautiful spring weather, our little town and the countryside are looking beautiful. We are so grateful to live in this part of the world especially given the madness that’s happening elsewhere.  We are both out most days for walks, MrFF usually with one of his groups, this week he latched onto a party who were Friends of the Dales buses, supporting this valuable service that takes us deep into the Dales.  I have used the service too, it’s such a sociable experience and the drivers are helpful and pleasant.  Except once when the driver said he’d never driven the route before, he’d been called in as an emergency driver, and asked MrFF for directions which he happily provided.

I am a creature of habit, my solo walks generally take the same route so that I can check on my favourite gardens and monitor building projects.  I call it my Bertie walk named after the alpaca who lives across the valley above our town.   I don’t see him every time, it’s such a bonus when I do.

Yesterday afternoon MrFF and I walked together with the intention of seeing the bluebells in a nearby wood.   We ended up walking 6.5 miles, across fields and down to the river where we sat beside the old bridge watching the ducks for a while.  

We agreed we are so fortunate to be able to step out of our door into such amazing countryside, onto the moor, along the river or through pastures.  I am so happy we came back to Yorkshire.  And we never tire of taking photographs. 

Friends of the Dales Buses walk

Malham Cove, the cows are belted Galloway

Insitu

This afternoon I finally got my implant crown fitted. 5 months 1 week since my front crown broke, £4,000 lighter, I am fixed.  I was feeling a bit edgy about today’s appointment, mainly fearing the new tooth wouldn’t fit or look right.

It was quite a painful process, my dentist said there would be some pressure and stretching of the soft tissue.  After the second ouch he administered anaesthetic and announced he'd need to trim my gum.  Now several hours later I feel a little sore but am already enjoying not having to wear my temporary denture or feel the gap uncomfortable at the front of my mouth.  I have to eat carefully tonight and by tomorrow I am ok to bite on the tooth, I think I’ll stick to banana a bit longer and not be tackling a crisp apple for a while.

I need to go back to the dentist in a couple of weeks for a check after which we can leave for Italy.  However the weather here is so lovely we are in no hurry to depart, just look at the snaps MrFF took on his walk in The Dales last week, Yorkshire what’s not love. 

Testing times

I am convinced that when I was at the doctor last week he looked again at my test results and said that while my folic acid level was acceptable it was in the low percentage of acceptable.  He asked if I’d agree to a course of folic acid and vitamin D, which I did. So I was surprised when I collected the prescription to receive a course of oral suspension antibiotic for fungal infection.  I was even more surprised at the disgusting taste of the medication, which 4 times a day I have to swill around my mouth before swallowing.  It’s shockingly sweet with a chemically fake almond flavour, yuk.  I have almost finished the course and it’s made no difference at all.

Meantime on Tuesday evening I received a call from the surgery asking me to provide another urine sample and make a face to face appointment in 4 weeks time with the first doctor I saw.   I explained that I would probably be away and asked if the results could be delivered by phone.  Apparently not which was worrying, they said they’d get back to me. 

Next morning I delivered said sample in a small jar inside a not transparent plastic bag.  The receptionist seemed a bit surprised to the point she seemed to move away when I presented the sample. She went off to prepare the necessary paperwork and returned with a little tube like I was given the first time. She said if you can get that back to us as soon as possible and seemed impressed when I offered to go to the toilet and decant the contents of my jar into the tube, simple, job done immediately. 

I asked why they needed another sample, apparently the first one didn’t reach the lab, aka it got lost. It definitely reached the box of samples at reception because I saw it go in.  I have no idea why the missing urine test wasn’t spotted at my last appointment and how it came to light a few weeks later.  I also asked about my next appointment, which I can have in 2 weeks time and can be by phone if necessary.  

It’s all been a bit shambolic and that early evening phone call could have been handled better, particularly as we had friends staying so I was busy preparing dinner whilst stressing about the need for another test.  It’s 6 weeks since I raised my concerns about my sore tongue.  I’ve had 2 blood tests, stool sample test, chest x ray, a lost urine test and another urine test plus a course of antibiotics, nothing has changed my tongue is still sore and cracked.  I am wondering if things will improve once I get my implant tooth, the dental treatment is finished and we can think about going to Italy. 

On a happier note we enjoyed time with our friends, were able to show them the beauty of the Yorkshire Dales and of course our lovely town looking extremely springlike.