French Interlude

Quite a few years ago, perhaps 15 or more, Grange Lane used to become a muddy quagmire in wet weather. This was before the surface was compacted by being treated with hessian underlay topped with gravel - the stage before becoming a metalled road.

Frenchman. During a muddy time of year, I was walking up the lane when, a little bit further up the hill from the turn off to "Littlemead", I came across a car mired down in the said quagmire. The car had a French registration, and as might be expected, the driver hailed from that country. The driver, not being familiar with the area and perhaps not so familiar with British road signs, probably thought that after the Grange, the public byway would continue as a normal road for motorised traffic. To his credit, he made it all the way for about half a mile, down the slope, as far as a few yards north of the turn-off to Littlemead. However, at that stage he had reached the muddiest part of the lane - where water run off from the hill used to collect - and his car was well and truly stuck.

Predicament. Understandably, he was in an interesting predicament, from which he was keen to be released. I said to him, partly in 'O' Level French, that something would be done. However, I thought the police would only be the last resort if all else failed. I suggested he hang on a bit longer and I went back to my neighbour who knew the farmer in Brock Hill.

Solution. I said to my neighbour, "You'll never believe me, but there is a Frenchman stuck in Grange Lane". My neighbour knew the farmer in Brock Hill. Solution. After a while, the farmer came with his Land Rover and some strong rope. Result: pleased Frenchman.

"Vive l'Entente Cordiale!"