Carnoux

Leo (pictured above)  met my friend H's grandfather when they worked together on a farm at the end of the war. In six weeks, a friendship was born that lasted a lifetime, joining two families and still bringing a sheen to Leo's eighty one year old eyes when he speaks of 'my friend'. 


Growing up in rural Provence, Leo tended his cows and played the accordion to them as a young man, before joining the navy and working his way to the rank of officer in the war. Leo played his accordion during the liberation dances in France, and these are the songs he still knows and plays (he also did mention that he didn't learn any new ones as his wife didn't think the accordion was cool enough). 

Today, three generations of the two families, English and French, spend summers together, in Leo's house in Carnoux-en-Provence. 


Leo and his daughter Christianne (on the right) are two of the most exceptionally alive and energetic people I have ever met. Two years ago, Leo decided he needed a new house. He chose his plot and built it, himself, at top of the hill in Carnoux. Having decided he wanted a swimming pool, he managed to plan and build it, himself, within three months. 

Of course, he did have a little help from his friend Dominic (pictured beside the pizza oven), who has travelled by ship to both poles and who met the last two living Sioux women on a journey to Alaska. By the time his boat returned, both women had died of old age (Dominic was pretty sanguine about this when he told us). 


Today, Leo has two homes. The first for his guests and family, where he entertains, making his world famous (and deservedly so) pizzas in the wood-fired oven in the orchard (of course he built it himself). There he plays accordion and serves his homemade, very potent, eau de vie. 

In his other, hill top home, Leo swims and builds and feeds the wild hogs, that by now know to come to his back gate. There, in a specially built courtyard, he also cultivates a very special herb garden, purely for herbs of a medicinal nature, if you get my meaning. 


Daughter Christianne inherited her fathers' spirit and joie de vivre at an early age. The family lived in Grenoble when Christianne was born and, at the age of five, she skied to school through the mountains, alone. She had a childhood of various scrapes and adventures, including first encountering stormy seas in England where she dived in for a swim in enormous waves, fully clothed, then realised she had nothing dry and had to return home in her underwear. Later, inspired by her doctor mother, Andre, Christian found her metier as a chemist, her two brothers becoming a pilot and a mathematician respectively. 

On the day SST and I arrived in Carnoux, we were thrown into the melting pot of the family, along with countless other friends and relatives who know that Leo's is the place to gather. As well as his pizzas, Leo made mango salsa (for which I have the recipe) and 'garlic earthworms' (French humour, actually anchovies), before the entertainment began. 


H's husband, who has acted for the RSC, recited Shakespeare and a bit of 'Franglais' (revenge for the fact that his new name is glub-glub as the family have tried repeatedly to drown him whilst wakeboarding). A small boy sang a song about escargot. I played my songs, complete with rambling (and very grammatically questionable) French introductions. 

SST and I played the famous Uke set and were joined for a couple of numbers with H, before Leo stole the show with his playing and singing. 


Then came champagne, cheese and desserts. No cork popping here though. As newcomers, SST and I were invited to 'sabre' a bottle each of champagne. First I, then SST, was given Leo's naval sabre. With a lot of shouted help and advice from the assembled party, we were taught to follow the bottle with the sword and, basically, whack the end off (that's what she said). It's amazingly easy, very fun and as you can see, we look very chuffed with ourselves (but maybe don't try it at home). 

After all of this food and a glass of eau de vie, the party drifted off to bed, apart from SST, H, Christianne and myself, who stayed  up to chat and drink rose wine until 2am. As the three English girls dragged ourselves wearily and tipsily to bed, 


















Christianne looked surprised at us and shrugged her shoulders, still very much awake. I think she then probably went for a run, or something. What a woman, what a father, what a family, what a night.