To be quite honest, most of the work with the calculator involved either starting off with the same figures and using a different methodology to get at the numbers that interested me, or using a different data set to see whether or not roughly the same figures came out. And the envelope gets covered in doodles, some of them not technically obscene.
|Benoit de Boigne, putting his best foot forward|
Sad to say, the underlying data sets are not particularly easy to get at, nor is it at all evident to work out what the sample population is. The INSEE looked quite promising, until I looked at the results and discovered that their bottom line was glaringly incompatible with those on sites like "Gites de France". I mean, when one source announces an average stay duration of nine days and the other one, one of three the disparity is kind of glaring, even to my eyes. So then I went spelunking, and discovered that the INSEE's "meublés labellisés" does not restrict itself to chambres d'hote, which is - for my purposes at least - a bit of a bugger.
You see my point: if the average stay is nine days that means you may expect to do two dinners per person in that period, whereas if it's three you're looking at six in the same time. There's a big quantitative difference here, people.
|A casualty of Easter|
The point is that gîtes are traditionally named: terminally cutely in my admittedly limited experience. Names like "Bleuet", or "Glycine". Anything to do with flowers seems to go down well, although there appears to be a flourishing market for famous, non-contentious, and preferably dead people. But Margo rejected my suggestions of "Toxic Waste" and "Oil Spill" with almost insulting rapidity and I guess I can see her point, these might frighten the punters, but can anyone explain to me what could be wrong with "Windscale", "Three Mile Island", and "Chernobyl"? Just asking, is all.
|N° 3 in the series: Hideously Ugly Municipal Statuary|
Do you remember, struggling with fifth-form French, having to learn such incredibly useful phrases as "la plume de ma tante est dans le jardin de mon oncle", which were supposed to make us feel at ease in a foreign language? Can just imagine throwing that one into a conversation, everyone would be amazed.
So in a stroke of what I can but qualify, awestruck, as brilliance, Bryan (our one, not the creepy one getting too close to your sister over the dirty dishes) came up with the idea of opening his own language workshop and calling it "Bryan's Kitchen". I think that could definitely fly.
I finally cracked, rejigged the mortgage, and bought some asparagus this morning. In my defence, let it be said that the broccoli, in normal circumstances an excellent and estimable vegetable, was looking particularly jaundiced, nor do I really enjoy shelling five kg of petits pois to find myself with a small bowl full of green ball-bearings. So it's definitely a ragout d'asperges that will accompany the lamb leg steaks tonight, maybe with some chips de panais (that'd be parsnip chips, to you) on the side. And I picked up some tomatoes too: doubtless to my regret, but hope springs eternal ...
Whatever, have a nice drought, people. Be thinking of you, as the rain sullenly persists down.