Demain, 8/11/17 à 18h; tele France 3, musique et chants. Vous êtes tous invité.

Spain is different to the Uk, The English don't have a parliament and rule only by dint of a larger population, whereas the Castilian oligarchy rules supreme in Spain, the Catalans are not Castilians, they have their own language, politics and culture, so why shouldn't they stand on their own if they want to? It appears as though the spirit of Franco is still extant. Nobody complained when Scandinavia split up, nor the Czechs and Slovaks. If there is any democracy it should allow for annexed countries to liberate themselves. The days of Empire whether internal or external are over, or should be.

One of my terrace tables with its chairs had disappeared from outside the bar by the time I came in today.

1. Ambiance voulue pour 18h Mercredi 8 novembre La télévision France 3 arrive et il ne serait pas bien s'il n'y avait personne ici, alors aidez s'il vous plaît. Ils aimeraient de la musique et des anecdotes si possible.

To recap slightly, now that I'm feeling better and beginning to put back on a bit of weight, a good sign, I want to get out into the fresh air with camera in hand, although I can't go far because I have to be home for the 3 times a day nurses visits. Monday I went out looking for a holy well I saw on one of my French versions of the ordnance survey maps. A few years ago I had in my possession maps for almost the whole of Brittany so that I could search for castles, manor houses, chapels with their holy wells, menhirs and other objects I found particularly interesting, unfortunately I lost them when my car took in water. Anyway I bought two new ones last week; HUELGOAT MONTS D'ARREE & MORLAIX. I went looking for St. Michel/Michael's well I saw on the map but had difficulty finding. I drove to the tourist office in Brasparts but as it was a Monday it was closed. I decided to buy 2 more maps but couldn't find anywhere open. I drove to Commana where I bought neighbouring maps to the ones I already had. After taking advice I drove back to below the chapel where I thought I'd find the well opposite an old creperie, I knocked the door, no answer, I went behind where a man clapped his hands, it was Jean, the old landlord with a reputation of being slightly eccentric, the reason he clapped was that he could hardly speak due to an operation on his cancerous throat 5 years ago so he did it to attract my attraction. I introduced myself, he had a brown paper bag from which he took out a pistol, giving me bad thoughts as we were very isolated, then he signalled me to march on, we crossed the road, he followed with the gun in hand, he walked me further on by clapping and pointing, he directed me on across some type of a garden more isolated, more thoughts, to the left, then to the right, where was he taking me? Then he pointed out the well hidden in the undergrowth. It was a bit of an anti-climax it not being of the quality I was looking for, With a great sense of relief, and disappointment, I walked back to my car and drove home; that was Monday, Tuesday I went by taxi, paid for by the French health system, to the Cavale Blanch/Ar Gaseg Gwenn hospital an hour away in Brest where a plastic tube was inserted by way of the hole in my belly, then filled with water to clean my intestines while manoeuvering the x-ray machine, there was a subsequent problem with the evacuation of the water taking hours to complete. Today (Wednesday) the taxi took me on a half-hour drive to the hospital in Morlaix/Montroulez for my penultimate chemotherapy session. This evening I had a surprise visit from the lovely harpist/singer Dana who gave us a little musical session with her little celtic harp, highly appreciated. http://www.facebook.com/DANAcelticmusic56/

Went out for an afternoon drive, visited St. Divy (Dewi Sant/Saint David)'s chapel in Plouneour Menez, door was locked, as they are in most chapels these days, and two manor houses, the owners of the first one knew me and allowed me to take photos, the second one didn't know me but welcomed me and invited me back.

1. Gardner wanted: I have two parterres with primroses, wild & garden daffodils, tulips, hyacinths, but mainly yellow & blue irises, that need to be moved 150 yards.

I allowed the village football team to bring their own food & drink into the bar yesterday after their 6-1 defeat of Spezet C in the same way that many years ago I used to do the same for a group of people that eventually evolved into 'Les Vieilles Charrues', the largest musical festival in France, the French equivalent of 'Glastonbury'. The old team was disbanded years ago and has only now been re-formed; They are starting at the bottom but have already scored six in a previous match, and knocked Chateauneuf/Castellnevez who are divisions above them out of a cup competition. I hope they keep up their victories and their after match visit to the pub, so long as they drink at the bar afterwards.

First off; the bailiff hasn't been back in spite of saying that he would phone two weeks ago, no reimboursement; my daughter phoned his office where the secretary castigated her for asking for monsieur instead of maitre Fontani, he still hasn't phoned back, looks a bit negligent to me! Monday Paul had a marvellous send-off, normal for the respect he earned throughout his adult life, they could have filled another church with the numbers who failed to get in. Drinks were offered in the packed hall of 'The Chaudron' opposite, Coreff naturally as he was part owner. Last week I was told that I had too much potassium, so I gave up bananas & Vichy water, this week I've been told that I have a problem with my kidneys so I must drink at least a bottle of Vichy a day. I went into hospital Wednesday for my chemotherapy expecting to leave at 2pm, but they kept me all night for 12 hours and more for re-hydration. They've taken out one of the ingredients of the chemo therapy as it was harmful to my kidneys. I was lent, for me, a very interesting, book, which I took with me, I should have taken two books!, written by George East called 'French Impressions', 'Brittany', 'Brittany in a Book'. He and his wife bought a house in the region which he goes on to describe, including a short complimentary mention of me. This afternoon two Swiss tourists interested in Breton folklore turned up at the bar. They suggested that I'm well known because at Saint Brieuc they were advised to come here. They haven't left yet.

Just finished the 1948 official biography of Lloyd George (458 pp) by Malcolm Thomson with the collaboration of Frances, Countess Lloyd-George of Dwyfor.He began as a Welsh nationalist before turning British patriot. He won the first world war, was respected by all except those of factions of his own party, Churchill learned from him and If he'd been listened to there probably wouldn't have been 2 million out of work, no shamefully wasted deaths at Passchendaele or the 'Gallipoli' and no appeasement or growth of Hitler, Mussolini and Franco, no German and Italian annexations, or second world war but too many people of his own party didn't trust him, this highly individual brilliant politician and country lawyer who stood head & shoulders above anyone else. He was disliked by important politicians who he'd snubbed in the past and would do anything to keep him out of government, he was hated by Neville Chamberlain but Churchill stayed a close friend.