When we packed up the weekend before last, we thought we’d just be spending one more weekend in Blois before going to Australia for five weeks on 10th September. But on Friday, I was working away in my apartment in Paris (I’m a freelance technical and legal translator) when a large set of scaffolding suddenly hove into sight. I knew it was coming because I’ve been subjected to all sorts of banging and shouting and music and dust for the last nine weeks from my neighbours’ balcony. But I had been told our turn was the end ofAugust.
So I had a long chat to the worksite boss, who soon appeared in front of the window. “But it is the end of August !” Well, not quite. I thought I had at least another week to go. He told me the worst would be during the next two weeks, starting Tuesday, when they would be demolishing the large vases and balustrades using their pneumatic drills, from 8 am to 5 pm.
During that time, the wooden shutters and windows have to be kept closed at all times, leaving practically zero light in my office and the living room. Fortunately, the other side (bedroom and kitchen) won’t be affected. I find it difficult to be deprived of light at the best of times, but 10 weeks of darkness day and night is like a nightmare, not to mention the noise. I’m one of those people who are allergic to radio music when I’m working and these particular workers are very keen on loud rap.
So here I am in the train, on the way to Blois where I’ll stay until the Friday before we leave for Australia. Fortunately I have everything set up to work there, except for my specialised dictionaries, but these days, you can find most of what you want on the Internet and I can always get Relationnel to look something up for me if necessary. He’s coming for three days this weekend and then I’ll only have another few days before I go back to Paris. I would really rather he were with me …
At least I’ll be able to do some gardening and cycling, especially this week, because it looks as if the good weather’s here for a little while longer.
