Floored!

Ste Claire

Two weeks ago we ordered the floorboards for the loft. We decided to pay the exorbitant delivery charge because a) we don't have the vehicle to collect them in and b) because they worked out the same price as if we had bought them locally and hired a van to collect them.

Delivery to your door in under one week it said.

Fat chance. This is France and this is August. August means nothing runs normally, whatever 'normal' might mean in this country. In August, more than in July, people take their holidays. In Paris it seems that people either have July or August holidays but anywhere else August seems to be preferred.

Therefore I was very surprised to receive a telephone call one week after placing the order.

'Bonjour Madame, this is XYZ delivery company from Paris. We have a shipment to deliver to you and we would like to do this next week. Either Wednesday or Thursday would be preferred for us, would you be available on either of those days?'

I said that, of course we would be available, not a problem. I was told that someone would telephone us on Tuesday morning to confirm the details, and was there any problem with getting a lorry to our door? No problem, I said.

Followers of this blog may recall that last year we had the chalet delivered along with a small shed, a shower unit and, several weeks later, the chalet floor. No problem for a large lorry.

We waited in on Tuesday morning for the telephone call. Nothing. I don't know why I was surprised and/or disappointed, after all, what should I have expected?

Nothing on Wednesday either, and I didn't have the details of the delivery company to contact them. I thought I would leave it until Thursday before contacting the supplier, but on Thursday afternoon the telephone rang.

'Bonjour Madame, we have a delivery for you, can we deliver it tomorrow morning? Can I have directions to your address? And is there any problem sending a large lorry?'

Friday morning arrived and we were up and alert waiting for the lorry.

Around ten o'clock the telephone rang.

'Madame Smeeet? I have a delivery for you, I'm outside the garage in your village, how do I find your house?'

He continued chatting to me as he was driving up the road, we could hear his crawling lorry and all the miserable cars behind him getting ready for the overtake as soon as they could.

'You have passed the turn, Monsieur.' I said. 'I can see your lorry, it is a white one. You will have to make a demi-tour and come back to me, there is a turning space on your left'.

'Madame? Will you please come and meet me at the entrance to your driveway, I don't know where you are talking about'

I duly jumped in the car, drove down the hill and waited. And waited. And waited.

Eventually I could see a large lorry coming slowly down the hill followed by a trail of cars towing caravans. They were not best pleased.

Seeing the lorry driver signalling, I went back to my car waiting for him to follow me up the drive.

I had completely missed the point. This wasn't any ordinary large lorry, this was an articulated lorry. There was no way he could turn into our driveway.

He hooted. I got out of the car and went to talk to him. All the people in the cars behind with their caravans hooted. Some got out to see what was going on.

I agreed to follow the driver down into the village to discuss what would happen next, jumped in the car ignoring the abuse from the caravanners (serves them right anyway, now they know what it's like to be stuck behind a snail) and went to collect Jon.

Down in the village the net curtains were twitching trying to decide why a very large lorry had pulled up in the middle of the village and had been hooted and sworn at by several caravanners as they passed him. We ignored the twitchers and discussed the next move.

We suggested he turn round again and leave the floorboards outside our neighbours house at the bottom of the hill. We knew there was no problem with access as a haulage company have their yard just a few doors away.

No, this was not a good idea. The best thing would be to put all the floorboards in my little Peugeot 106 and take them home from the village.

There were 44 packets of them. 55 square metres in total.

We managed 9 packets in the first run, brought them home and then returned with both cars. Hoping that the driver was an honest man and would wait for us.

He did. It took 7 car loads (Millie Mehari can't take as many as the Pug) but we finally have our loft floor. It's in the garage where it will have to stay for a few weeks. The next job is treating the wood which we don't want to do just yet as we have the Munchkins arriving for a week and don't want to poison them. Then there are a couple more visitors before we can get back down to work in the loft.

Today's job is shopping and cooking. The beds are made up, the toy box unearthed and dusted off and the cats have been warned. Little boy alert! They arrive tomorrow morning and we can't wait!