Page 43 - IT'S A RUM LIFE BOOK FOUR Volume 1 "Northcote 1984 to 1998"

and well patronage.

(I must leave the past to mention that now in the new century, it is like another world since
the District Council have imposed impossibly high parking fees all over the little town and
even higher rate charges on the shops. There is little left of the weekly market as nobody
will come to support local trade any more and all there is to see now are rows of empty
decaying shop premises.)

Back to our tale.... in each shop I found myself explaining who our visitors were and why
they were here, both in English and then in French of course. There was Ali’s Deli with
cheese, cold meats, herbs and spices, a shop where the French immediately felt at home.
Across the road was Andy’s small wine and spirit store, a small supermarket, traditional
gentleman’s outfitters with country work wear, fruit and veg stores, the newsagent and a
very elegant ladies fashion store that also sold household furnishings.

THE CAKE SHOP
Fish and chips were a revelation but it was at the local bakery where I explained that here
was produced Spilsby’s own special cake.
It took the form of a large bun filled with dried fruit, icing sugar coated the top surface and
generous helpings of marzipan were wedged in between the layers.

So pleased with the keen interest displayed by his special visitors, “Trev” the baker
presented each visitor with one of his special delicacies, each in an individual paper bag.

I was just not quick enough at this stage, gradually becoming more thick in the head with
the constant translation.

Following the deft movement of M. Vielle the Mayor of Fresnay, each French visitor
squeezed the paper bag and its squashy, sticky, oozy contents into their coat pocket.

Oh tragedy, I should have rapidly ushered them outside and found a suitable place to eat
their gift.

Too late, they were now each and every one consigned to impossible, unimaginably
unrecognisable lumps of fruity dough encased and thoroughly glued to their paper exterior!
Not only that, but I thought of the elegant garments especially worn by the lady visitors and
what remained in the lining of the pocket, I could only shudder and hope they all had a
good sense of humour!

AN INVITATION TO FRANCE
It came to pass that as our visitors from France found out that Ruth and I spent each and
every holiday in rural France that we should be invited to visit Fresnay sur Sarthe on our
next excursion.
The very next early Spring trip found us wending our way down through the French
countryside from Calais in our maroon MG B GT tourer. The market town of Hesdin,
almost on the borders of Normandy was chosen as a suitable overnight stopping point and
a room reserved at the local hotel for our return trip a week or so later.