Postscript - lunar tractor

Eurotractor spotted on the moon ..... after some time at 12 mph.

Courtesy of Victoria McArthur aka Vixorange

Saturday 12 July - photographs

Saturday 12 July - the last post

Well, this is it: my ostensible reason for bringing the tractor all the way to Saillagol. The restored windmill and the restored tractor came together to move the earth - well, the tower of the mill, anyway.

It was the weekend of the Saillagol village fête, and we were asked if it would be possible to open the windmill to the public as part of the celebration. Since we were also intending to have a ceremony to re-inaugurate the mill following last year's restoration, we suggested combining the two. We expected about 100 people, but I reckon more like 150 came. The previous evening there was a film show in the village square where M Bord of the Quercy Rural Video association showed two films - the first showed the mill in 1983, when it was still working, during the visit of a party of school children. The second was a very complimentary summary of the tractor trip and last year's mill restoration. Unfortunately, I think it is too large to attach to this blog, at least at my up-load speeds. We decided to offer Pimms to everyone in order to add a flavour of the English summer party to the affair, at the slight risk this could be misunderstood. In fact, after a few tentative questions (is it "Coca"? is is alcoholic?), Pimms went down a storm, and we got through over 30 litres of the stuff.

Everyone was thus in good shape for the ceremony itself, starting with the attachment of the canvas to the sails (sadly, no adult volunteers from my family to climb up and fix them in place). Although there was barely enough wind to turn the sails, even after the tractor had turned the tower into the wind (see video above), village teen power hanging onto the sails was enough to provide some semblance of motion. All this was followed by a short speech by me (read, I'm afraid, since at times of stress even my rudimentary French tends to desert me), to which M Christian Frauciel, the Mayor, responded with charm and wisdom. Many people climbed the tower to see the internal workings of the mill, though, with barely a zephyr of wind, we were unable to grind any corn on this occasion. We were very pleased that no-one fell down the unprotected stairs, nor out of the upper windows. One thing we have learned is that "health and safety" rules in France are subject to a great deal of pragmatic interpretation.

Barbara and I were delighted that all our family (4 children plus spouses/partners, plus 7 grandchildren) were able to join us in Saillagol for this amazing day, and we felt extremely proud to have been able to restore to working condition the windmill, which in many ways embodies the spirit of this lovely little village. I felt pretty good about the tractor too, though I know I have to replace the petrol tank and do something about the oil leak from the rear axle - and yes, I did get the back wheels swapped around beforehand, in order to forestall any more comments about them rotating the wrong way....

I think we may have to open the mill again for next year's fête - suggestions for an alternative to Pimms will be gratefully received.

Because I don't seem to be able to add anything else to this particular post, a series of photographs selected from the many kindly provided by Michel Poreaux, Victoria McArthur, Sam Hyde, and Tom Hyde will follow, I hope, in a supplementary post.

Press cover

Before I post my final blog, here are three articles I have seen from French local papers:

From La Dépêche (Tarn et Garonne) anticipating my arrival at Saillagol, unfortunately with a photograph of the tractor in an "intermediate" state of restoration...

From the Villefranchois, describing my arrival in Saillagol.

From Les Informations Dieppoise. recording my emergence from the Newhaven-Dieppe ferry

Day 15 - to Saillagol

Leaving La Métairie Basse, the early morning was foggy and I took photographs of the slightly surreal landscape. I was advised by Richard to take the unpaved track down to Conduché where the Célé joins the Lot, as it is less steep than the normal paved road to St Martin Labouval. The track was rough, with deep flooded potholes and fallen trees, but it worked, and I met Barbara, filming (may be added later), in St Martin L. We agreed to meet before noon at Varaire, possibly to have lunch. The route via Limogne was straightforward, and it was a slightly odd experience to be driving through these familiar places with the tractor. No-one here turns a hair, of course. I was parked in the village square at Varaire by 11am, just as a ceremony to celebrate the re-opening of the library was about to start. So there were plenty of people, many of whom took an interest in the tractor.

Barbara phoned then to say that a film team from the Quercy rural video assocation was at Saillagol, intending to record my arrival, but had now decided to hot-foot it over to Varaire. Much excitement in the square as I drove round a couple of times for the camera, and headed off for the last few km to Saillagol.

I arrived unaccompanied (not deliberately, just a communication screw-up) at a by-road into Saillagol, and gave myself a symbolic cheer as I passed the village sign. At our house I was filmed doing circuits of the mill, and gave a short interview describing my reasons for the trip, my experiences on the route and so on; I look forward to seeing the result.

Thereafter, much champagne and a quiet afternoon, sinking into early unconsciousness.....

I will, once I can persuade France Telecom that our phone and internet connection really does not work when it rains, aim to post an epilogue, but experience suggest this may take a few days yet.

Day 14 Carennac to Sauliac

A sunny morning after last night's storms, and the tractor brought out a large group of English hotel guests, with reactions varying from the admiring to the frankly astonished. The hotel proprietor's wife and I took photos, as above.

From Carennac, south to Gramat where I managed to get completely lost in the town's road system. I finally found myself going up an increasingly narrow and steep lane, which I prayed would eventually intersect with a main road, because there was no possibility of turning round or reversing. Thanks more to Garmin than a higher power I eventually found myself on the D807, and headed down, via Quissac and Blars, to Sauliac sur Célé, where I had arranged to rendezvous with Barbara at 2pm. I had an opportunity to relax for an hour before she, and the rain, arrived. We were able to set about exploring the next and final day's route by car, an unprecedented luxury for me. It was even more terrifying than usual to be driven, now that my internal velocity sensor was set firmly at an average of 17km/hr.

We stayed the night at our friends Helen and Richard's place, La Métairie Basse (http://pagesperso-orange.fr/metairie.lot/). It is a lovely house in a tranquil environment high above the Célé.

Day 13 Hairpin bends without brakes

I left Segonzac this morning, intending today to be a fairly modest run, passing Brive to the south west and moving some way east as well as south; it still turned out at 100km. Via Larche, and then on to Souillac. The weather was OK at first - some sun, though threatening clouds. But at Souillac the heavens opened, and I climbed out of the town towards Martel in about 15 minutes of cloudburst. The road was flooded to at least 4 inches in places - no problem for a tractor, but I found that the front wheels pump water very efficiently straight onto the driver's feet. By Martel it was dry again, and then a scary sequence of hairpin bends as the road descended at 7% for about 2km. Engine braking worked fine, which is just as well, because my one remaining brake would never have stopped the tractor.

Crossed the Dordogne river into the Lot at about 3pm and found my hotel at Carennac http://www.france-for-visitors.com/dordogne/perigord-noir/carennac.html. The village is very much a tourist attraction, and it is easy to see why. I visited an excellent exhibition of local vernacular architecture in the Chapter house. At the hotel, I asked if I could put the tractor in their small car park, and this provoked a lot of interest by the proprietor and his staff. It turned out that he is a tractor enthusiast and we had another lengthy discussion on the merits of various tractors with the Ferguson heritage. I apologised about the oil dripping onto his forecourt from my leaky rear axle, and he confirmed that they all used to do that. He also said the brakes had never been any good, even on the newer ones. He insisted I parked the tractor in his own garage, next to his slightly later Massey Ferguson (photo). This turned out to be fortunate because that evening we had a huge storm. It started with 15 minutes of intense hail, with stones the size of marbles, and continued with another half hour of tropical downpour. The road in front of the hotel turned into a river, lifting tarmac, and washing away the gardens opposite. Unusual for June they said; it doesn't normally happen until August. I learned afterwards that damage included broken solar panel arrays.

As I'm now getting so close, I've spoken to Barbara and arranged to meet up at Sauliac sur Cele tomorrow afternoon, with a view to staying the night somewhere nearby.