Off out into the world.....

It could not be delayed any longer.

Already weeks had gone by with no action from us,

 but soon I shall be seventy,

and my UK driving license will expire,

therefore it is of importance that we get our UK licences converted to French ones.

We want to do this anyway,

we do not want to stay loyal to a country we are no longer living in,

but most of all I do not have any great urge to have to take the French driving test.

 

We should have done this weeks ago.

But it is necessary to go to a place called the 'Prefecture',

which is in Tarbes,

Tarbes being a small city and therefore very busy as is the nature of such places everywhere,

and which now is becoming an increasingly hostile environment to us.

The longer we stay in the reasonable tranquillity of Labartere,

apart from the cockerels fighting and the hens squabbling,

and the sheep yelling to each other as the flock scatters across the field to graze,

and the little birds, mostly sparrows, who still think that it is spring and are still continuing on with  reproductive activities which requires much chirruping and carrying on.

All of this has a sort of tranquillity about it,

which cannot be said about the concrete, car fume laden environment of the city.

It was an assault to our senses, that is what it was.

But we needed to get those driving licenses done.

 

We took a road map with us.

We were cautious about finding parking so parked at the first spot available.
It was hot.

The map said to head this way.

We did.

Now I am a good map reader, having walked many a mile across the UK countryside using the excellent Ordnance Survey maps. I never feel lost if I have a map, even if for the moment I am not entirely sure of where I am.  Lester, though, is not so impressed with maps. In fact he frets. And when he does this he sets his stride to wide and fast, possibly thinking that the quicker he walks the more likely he is to find where he needs to go.

 

As I said,

it was hot, the road was uphill, cars were buzzing about,

after all, it was a city, so what do you expect.

We  only had one minor squabble along the way, though,

and that was brought on by Lester insisting that the map should be 'this way up' and me saying the opposite, which reminded me of certain memories of some of our walks back in the UK. It would seem that reading a map can be done in various ways depending on the opinions of those trying to read it.

 

Anyway we finally got to where we needed to be,

which was nowhere near what the Internet map said was the location,
and it was a long way from where we had parked the car,

but not to worry, we got there. 

Lester has a temporary French driving license, the proper one to come in the post soon.

I do not.

I have to have a medical to see if I am fit.

Oh.

And may I say at this point that the lady who was sorting the paperwork out, was, at first,

downright horrid, and as I observed her horridness I thought to myself,

'She could do with a jolly good romp in bed with someone nice to sort her out'.

Now this might come as a surprise to you that I should have had such a thought,

but it was not a 'crafted, made up' thought as such,

just a 'She needs seeing to' thought, neither unkind or spiteful in nature for that was not my intent.
Now I don't know if she picked up this thought,
but all of a sudden she became more cheerful and helpful,
and full of light.

She said not to worry about the UK Driving License card being out of date, although the green paper that it is issued with was still in date, just to get the medical and get back to her asap.

 Bless her, whatever she absorbed from that thought of mine most surely did her some good.

The road was downhill all the way back to the car,
a welcome sit down in a bar for a pint of cool panache (larger / beer and lime juice I think),
then back home.

Vx