Postman Pat Delivers to Paradise!

Background, Pierre has a truck. We won an EKTORP Ikea sofa on eBay.FR which resided in (near) Paris). The other day, Friday, we stopped at the boulangerie in Le Chatelet for the usual pastry fix on the way to the junk store in Montlucon. As I sat in the idling Avensis, along comes our brand new friend Pierre. He sees me, I roll down the window and shake hands, "how are you!" In a moments chat re what we are doing in HIS village the conversation turns to acquiring a truck big enough to stuff a sofa into. How? I dunno but it worked at the time, he indicates HIS truck parked across the street "Postman Pat". I ask if we might borrow it and he said "sure", our day was made! How to get an IKEA EKTORP sofa from Paris to Lignieres was becoming quite a problem, as neither of us possessed a VL license that allows us to rent such a vehicle in France. So now we have a truck (ex mail truck!) available, after the less thsn satisfactory visit to the Mountlucon junk store (we bought NOTHING) we made our way via the Leader Price grocery outlet and Brico store back home. We emailed the owner of the EKTORP (where does IKEA get these names?!) and made a date for yesterday (Sunday) at 2pm to pick up the object. So up at 7 to prep, remove couch A from spot A, move to spot B after removing sofa B to Spot C. Now to obtain EKTORP D which is 200 miles north of us at Spot D. So off we go thru the streets of Lignieres, out to the countryside to seekout the desired truck "Postman Pat" at Pierre's own pile of rocks. There she/he was, sitting on the edge of the road as red as a Royal Mail truck ever was.
Pierre, it's proud owner, wiggled the keys gleefully at us over the fence. He ran us thru a few cautions and notations, "The doors are tough to open", "use the key and jerk the handle at the same time to open the rear door", "This is the key for the fuel cap" and so on. After a short tour of his pile of rocks and all the wonderful work he has done to it by HIMSELF no less, we were OFF! Turn the key, watch the glow plug light go out, turn further, Varoooom! She fires right off.
We pull away as Pierre watched anxiously...with good reason! You see this Royal Mail vehicle is RIGHT HAND DRIVE! And I am an American. Not an easy fit for sure. But I have done this before in both England and Scotland so it's sort of...kina...familiar. Stick has 5 speeds forward with the top one a true overdrive for cruising on flat ground, 4th is normal high gear. 1st gear you could use to pull up tree stumps. Thru the little hamlet we go out thru the forest and 15 minutes later we pull up to the A71 entrance at St. Amand. Grab a toll ticket and the gate goes up and we pull away to accelerate for the next few minutes up to our crusing speed of 55 mph in top gear. Not bad. We settle in for the long drive ahead of us under a cloudy sky with rays of sunshine lighting the road ahead, certainly a good omen. Mile after mile roll by, at first a joy as we can see above the roadside fences and bushes to the views beyond...and they are magnificent! The French countryside is ablaze with spring colors, the reds of poppies, the blue of foxglove,
the yellow of colza and dandilion. Spectacular! We stop for an espresso at one of the many Air du this or that that they have scattered along the major motorways throughout France. Makes for a pleasant stop to walk about, shop for Products Regional featured at almost every one (candies, clothing, ceramics, cookies, the ever present wines) and an ice cream (A Magnum bar...YUM! Cappucino is my favorite, Kelly likes the Dark Chocolate one) then out to ride Pat another hundred miles or so and stop once again, this time for a coke and a pre-packaged sandwich. Not great but filling, it's a motto when driving on the motorway. Pat does well, she/he cruises and stays firmly in a straight line once in a while, Kelly endlessly monitors my slow drift towards the white line on HER side...the passenger side, it's my Left Hand Drive theory at work. We drift towards that with which we are familiar, the white line on the left side...I want it closer, and closer. She is the better of us at this game in these circumstances as she is mostly the passenger when we are here and so sees the white line differently.
Nonetheless, I NEED correcting else someone is going to find themselves in a BIG squeeze. Onward to the outskirts of Paris, the Mappy.FR maps and destination instructions are terrific and within a short while we find outselves on the exact exit we needed. Off the freeway now onto a city boulevard, down a hill, thru a couple of lights and there it is!
Into the parking lot of a moderate rise apartment building, like many others in the outskirts of many cities across the globe, this one is different...it holds our EKTORP sofa. Entrance 7, Level 4...up we go!
Knock! Knock! A young man opens the door looking like he just woke up...it's 2pm in the afternoon. He indicates that Robert is "en le jardin" (In the garden) and waves as though it is around the corner.
Down the stairs we go and out into the parking lot and to the left we go amid screams and yells of little kids in a nice blue pool surrounded by trees. Robert approaches all smiles and shakes my hand "Bonjour!" I say, "je suis Howard", I say. He speaks english very well and leads me back up the stairs to his apartment. There she is, the EKTORP, all tan and comfortable looking. He bags up the cushions and gets his little girls (10-11 yrs old) to take them downstairs. He and I lift the sofa and thru hook and crook carry it to the staircase after removing it's feet so it will fit thru the doorway. Down we go, thru the stairwell, little by little, working out the difficulties as they occur. Down finally at ground level, laughing and tired, I go to Pat, start her up and drive to the entrance. We load the cushions and the sofa in a few minutes, it fits easily in the large space of the van, making our life easier. We say goodbye to Robert and his ever so sweet and useful moviestar daughters. Out we go all waves and celebrations to find ourway back to the freeway. A view of the Eifel Tower greets us along with the highrise skylike of a BIG CITY, the ONLY big city I know of near where we have been is PARIS, oh my...a slight goof has befallen us.
The next exit allows us to turn about and get back in the right direction. Off we go headed home. Terrific! Then...it begins to rain. It pours, the heavens open, I switch on the windshielf wipers and spray some fluid to remove the dried on bugs and guts. The rain continues, hour after hour. We stop for another coke about Orleans, we change drivers, climb back in Pat and run on south til the clouds thin, the rains turn to mist then cease altogether about Bourges where we stop to fill Pat with gazoil once again in preparation to turn her back over to her owner in about an hour. I drive her home, unload the EKTORP and her cushions, then drive back to Pierre's place to hand over the keys and take our Toyota on home to crash. Pierre is all giggles and happy as a clam seeing his beloved "Postman Pat" back in one piece. He offers us a frozen pizza and we go for it for the company and to STOP in this most busy of days. We chat for a couple of hours about France, our life in the villages and the future of mankind. We leave about 9:30, arrive at home about 15 minutes later. We button up the house and head up to sleep the day off. What a day it was! 445 miles altogether, 8 hrs on the road as well. "Postman Pat" was a wonder! Thanks Pierre! Dinner for you and your wife when she arrives from Wales!
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