IN PURSUIT OF ANOTHER DREAM: THE EARLY YEARS AT BERILEGUI

A dream of hill-top independence

I do not know how Guy came to be on such excellent terms with the maire of St Pée sur Nivelle, Mr Charles Camy, and the local MP Bernard Marie, former international rugby referee and father of the politician Michèle Alliot-Marie. Armed with the respectability of an well-spoken English teacher, he convinced them that his scheme could attract visitors and business to the region, which would justify selling a large piece of public land for a very low price (60,000 F). Once about 20,000 F had been spent on bulldozing platforms out of the hilly terrain, the resulting property was impressive with its south-facing position, the beautiful view on the Rhune mountain and the sea. At the beginning it was extremely bare, with only a handful of diminutive and distorted oak trees, and big expanses of gorse, a prickly bush that can grow into impenetrable thickets, which was vanquished by repeated fires. We planted a lot of trees that eventually completely changed the appearance of the place: acacias, because they grew fast from simple poles planted in the ground, hazel nut trees transplanted from Maupoey, and exotic trees such as mimosas, which suffered when the winter was harsh. But apart from carving the hill into terraces, and fencing out the hunters, Guy never spent a single franc towards his project. He rapidly got bogged down building a small bungalow himself, with only the basic concrete works done by professionals. For all intents and purposes, he treated the land as a normal property, especially carving it up later between the two younger sons, and building houses on the domain.

In 1967, the same visits were paid to Carennac in February and May, but the family slept in the house, instead of Granou. Charles was taking over the task of writing to the elder relative, instead of Guy. He was also now more independent, and on orders from his father travelled by himself on the moped from Orthez to Carennac and back in July. Here I should point out that already at the time it was highly unusual for parents to trust one of their children on the roads alone in such a manner. Guy was willing to take the risk, for the sake of the educational value of the experience of finding one's way and managing through the difficulties and risks of such a journey. Auntie Hélène was of course very nervous about what could happen on the way, and had to be constantly reassured. On the first trip, Charles had to send a telegram from half-way stating all was OK.

As soon as Charles was back from Carennac, the family took off for Portugal, in a memorable trip across Spain to visit the Simoes, the friends from the Maupoey days. We had been going to Spain for many years, but this was a voyage of discovery into the real deep Spain with its beautiful desert mesetas. In Portugal, we stayed about a week at the Simoes farm, enjoying the pretty countryside and visiting the environs, including the beach at Peniche, or the pretty town Setubal. On the way back via Santiago de Compostela, we stopped at Fatima, the pilgrimage center. It was a beautiful and interesting voyage, the first of several.

But more was to come: in September, Charles was sent for two weeks to stay with a Spanish family in Tolosa, from which he returned much more proficient in Spanish, an advantage that he would preserve forever after. The time in Tolosa was also very formative in getting to know the way of life of the Spanish bourgeois, and to meet a whole group of contemporaries, boys and girls, who spent much time hanging out in bars or street-corner dances. The ambition of the group of boys (the pandilla) was to set up a musical band, and they even had a dedicated meeting place (el local) to practice, but of course nothing ever came of it. All in all, a fascinating experience.

In November, Marthe Lamothe and her husband visited Orthez, but did not make haste to report to Hélène (she complained in her diary).

To close a very rich year, Charles was sent to Bournemouth for the Christmas holidays, being ferried there by two English assistants working in the region. Eventful trip, including sleeping one night in the car on the way out because there were no petrol stations open, and stuck in England because the roads were impassable from heavy snows. I had to meet to meet the car in New Haven for the return trip, which involved a complex train ride²¹².

1968 started with a visit from Auntie Hélène to the "camp" on the "hill" in St Pée sur Nivelle, and a trip to Spain, probably the family outing to buy food and wine. Then Charles travelled again on his moped to Carennac for the Easter holidays, arriving very cold and wet. During the visit, he attended the funeral of Clara Ayroles. I remember Hélène saying I had to go "because their family had come to Baptiste's funeral". After a lunch at Granou, Hélène invited Jeannette to go to the cinema, where we saw "Double Cross" (espionage).

In May, Guy visited with Tooty and Poli, but Hélène "sent him to sleep in Granou".

That summer, Beryl was ill with a goiter, and had to spend some time in hospital, following which she spent some time convalescing in Carennac (8 -17 August). Though the two women may have got to know each other a little better, the visit did not have a lasting impact on family relationships, in spite of Hélène's generosity. It was the Simoes who came to fetch Beryl, I was tagging along. I remember spending a night at a hotel in Gourdon, but in Carennac the next day there were no rooms. That summer, Charles only spent a few days in Carennac, though Hélène was not pleased with such a short visit. It may be that work in the "camp" was now a priority.

Then at mid-September 1968, Hélène came again to the camp, which looked to her like a "gypsy" settlement. She had lunch in the "hangar" (the metal tube) and a siesta in the caravan, all quite new experiences for her. During this visit, she slept in the neighbouring hotels and ate in the good restaurants (chez Bonnet, hostellerie Basque). Her close friends the Lacaze, who were a Basque couple of ladies with a house in Carennac, also visited, but after a seemingly good start, the visit took a bad term, with a big quarrel, and she returned to Carennac without seeing the family again.

Finally, just after Christmas, Hélène sent Charles and Tooty some money to help them in their studies (7,500 F). My first purchase was a typewriter, which must have been a symbol of adulthood for me, having seen Guy's Hermès all my life. And that money did make a real difference to my parents, as I even funded the purchase of my little 70cc Honda in 1973.