The Driveway Begins!

I mentioned a few weeks ago that we have finally begun work on our driveway. After renovating the kitchen, the bathroom, the garden, laying new flooring and generally painting throughout to get our casa looking exactly how we wanted it to, we'd pretty much run out of excuses for doing something about our shameful status as the proprietors of The Worst Front Garden On The Street.

So, neighbours were consulted, setts were chosen, planning permission was acquired - weirdly, you don't need a scrap of permission to convert a single flagstone driveway to a solid double driveway, but putting up a fence in excess of 3 feet? The horror! Scale drawings were prepared, pictures of the proposed fence (which must be see-through ie picket style in case someone tries to hide in our garden and jump out on unsuspecting passers-by) were submitted, aerial maps of the house were provided... the council carefully considered the matter for eight weeks and then told us to go ahead. Oh happy day. Still, I reckon we kept an entire department of peeps in work for a month or two, so it's not all bad.

Here's what we're doing:

• Convert single flagstone driveway to a sandstone sett double driveway
• Install picket fence on both sides plus picket gates at the front (to keep the dogs in - I'm permanently scared of one of them getting out into the road)
• Build a pergola along the side of the house (again, weirdly no permission is required to do this)
• Install a dropped kerb (the council will take care of this for the sum of 300 English Pounds, the cheeky swines - you're not allowed to do it yourself or pay a contractor to do it for you)
• Create new flowerbeds
• Plant lots of clematis armandii, lavender, and perennial sweet peas.

I'm almost too embarrassed to post the before pics, but here goes.

We have wild jungly shrubs (hawthorn and flowering red currant - mmm, my favourites): 

Hideous prison-yard-style flagstones, random ugly plants, nasty patchy grass, and plenty of litter that gets blown into the garden on a daily basis courtesy of the residents of the cul-de-sac directly opposite who can't be bothered to put their rubbish into their wheelie bins:

Shudder.

The first step was to get the site cleared. We had expected to get this done by the contractors so that we could then go ahead and install our fence posts on a nice clear site, but the monkeys delayed and delayed and delayed to the point where we just couldn't wait any longer, so we had to go ahead and clear some of the site ourselves in order to get the fence posts in.

Enrique was ecstatic about all the digging:

He was also ecstatic about all the stones that were dug up in the process:

Miss Penelope, on the other hand, was content to bask in the sun and work hard on her full figure.

We installed the fence posts (notice the shameful contrast between our nasty jungly mess and our neighbour's pristine gravel affair):

Eventually the contractors arrived to clear the site, armed with a mini-digger that I thought was super-cool until this dude rocked up at the end of the day with The Coolest Power Tool Known To Man in the form of an open truck with integral massive metal lobster claw, which he used to scoop up the mound of soil, plants, shrubs, flagstones and the two concrete posts that the idiots who owned the house before us had inexplicably removed from the front garden and buried under the shed in the back garden:

Actually there weren't that many flagstones to scoop up - I kid you not, the neighbours were fighting in the street over them. One dude even brought me a bunch of flowers to convince me to let him have more than his fair share. If only I'd known that nasty concrete flagstones were all the rage, I'd have put 'em all on the 'bay.

All this work left a huge muddy hole which left us temporarily baffled as to how on earth people (the postman! the Abel and Cole delivery guy! us!) were going to get in and out of the property (were we supposed to leave a tub of courtesy wellies out on the front?) but fortunately, despite muttering darkly about not being able to come back for another three months, the contractors turned up the next morning and dumped several tons of MOT into the hole, so at least we can get in and out of our own house without getting coated in mud, which is always a bonus.

Next up - the pergola and the fence! And at some stage in probably the very distant future, I'm mildly hoping that the contractors will come back and lay the setts that have been sitting in readiness on the driveway for quite some time now (I foolishly arranged delivery of them according to a normal person's timeframe, not a useless contractors's timeframe). Waah.

P.S. You'll notice that for karmic reasons, I haven't named and shamed the contractors yet. I'm hoping that the quality of their sett-laying will outweigh their appalling lateness and rubbish communication... We will see...

How To Avoid Being Chased With Sticks By Provençal Villagers

You might think that life in Provence is very laid back - days spent idling by the pool, admiring the view over the valley, sipping local rosé wine...

You'd be wrong.

Check out these pictures I took in Cabrières d'Avignon:

I swear, every single house in the village has painted their shutters in the same dusty blue. Can you imagine what the paint section in Mr Bricolage looks like? Row upon row of identical paint cans, stretching to infinity...

What do you think would happen if someone dared to buck the trend and paint their shutters something really controversial like, ooh, dusty green? Would the villagers chase them out with sticks and torches?

Personally I just don't think it's worth the risk. Just follow the rules and paint your shutters blue, people. Life in Provence is very strict, dontcha know.

I'm Loving It - Elizabethan Real Estate

Those of you who follow me on Twitter will know that I am currently undertaking jury duty. My name hasn't come out of the magical hat yet to actually sit on a jury, which means that I'm spending seven hours a day sitting in a jury waiting room with nothing to do apart from read one book after the other. Aw, shucks.

Currently I'm working my way through Philippa Gregory's The Virgin's Lover, which is a highly entertaining account of the early years of Elizabeth 1's reign. A number of grand Elizabethan palaces and houses are featured in the book, so when I got home today I decided to look them up on the tinternet and see what they looked like. And they look pretty cool, so I thought I'd share them with you.

So without further ado, here is some prime Elizabethan real estate for your viewing pleasure.

Elizabeth 1 spent most of her childhood at Hatfield House, a rather splendid mansion 21 miles north of London. She was at Hatfield when she first heard of the death of her half sister, Mary Tudor, and therefore her accession to the throne:

Yeah, it's all right, isn't it?

Check out this casa - just a simple home for two (hundred):

This is Burghley, built over a 32 year period by Sir William Cecil, chief counsellor and general fixer to the young Elizabeth 1. It has 35 major rooms, and over 80 minor rooms.

And finally, here's Syon Park - once the family home of Robert Dudley (widely believed to be Elizabeth 1's lover, or at least an adamant suitor for her hand in marriage):

Looks quite dinky compared to Burghley, huh? Well, check out this conservatory, which is just one of many buildings languishing in the grounds:

Hmm, maybe Syon Park isn't so small after all.

Syon was confiscated from the Dudley family by Mary Tudor after the family masterminded the marriage of Lady Jane Grey to a Dudley son (the wedding took place at Syon Park), following which Lady Jane reigned as Queen of England for nine days before being displaced by Mary, who subsequently executed her. Are you keeping up? Blimey, we English don't half have a complex and blood-thirsty history.

Which house do you like best? 

Psst! If you like this, you may also like...

Interiors: Light and airy Notting Hill Home

Travel: A little tour of Venice

I'm Loving It: An autumn midnight picnic