Rockin on the Rock

Set in the Mediterranean Sea, just 3 miles adrift from its big sister Malta, the familiar and immediately recognisable yawning archway, of the Azure Window in Gozo has many stories to tell. Famous for featuring in the HBO epic, Game of Thrones, as well as putting in an appearance in many other high profile movies; this gigantic piece of rock, which is the pride of Gozo, and a must for any self-respecting tourist is certainly an imposing sight.

The stunning Azure Window in Gozo

Little Gozo, which measures only 8.7 x 4.5 miles has seen a recent surge in popularity, not lease due to the attentions of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt who made their latest movie here in 2015. However, long before Ms Jolie began extolling the virtues of this tiny piece of nirvana, we were was busy making a movie of our own.

In short, we got there first.

Having moved to Gozo in 2010 after becoming disillusioned with our lives in the UK. Steve and I were doing our thing down at The Captain’s Table; a friendly, welcoming bar/restaurant in Xlendi bay. When I say “our thing”, I mean we were singing – rock n roll, country and all that jazz.

Steve and I down at The Captain's Table

We noticed the tall guy with the beard on the front centre table. He was scribbling in a notebook and our curiosity was immediately aroused. Turns out he wasn’t the local tax man, he was none other than American author and seasoned traveller, James Morgan Ayres, who was visiting with his wife Mary Lou aka ML.

James and ML

Cutting to the chase, James wanted to work with us and make a music video; James had worked with some impressively big names, and so I have to admit to feeling a tiny bit of skepticism at his enthusiasm for working with us. However, as it happens, James Morgan Ayres is one of life’s rarities, an all-round genuine good guy as is ML, though obviously, she’s not a guy! Taken with what he’d seen when we performed, James had some great ideas for a short video, using some of Gozo’s most famous landmarks as film sets.

A project such as this, requires more than 2 people, and so, calling on the good will of our friends, we gathered a core of 8 “crew” - we were all set. Among the crew were an enthusiastic, down-to-earth couple called Jeff and Anne Cox. What made their input all the more admirable was that, at the time, Jeff was waging a personal battle with serious illness. Uncomplaining, stoic and absolutely determined to use his fabulous photographic skills, Jeff threw himself into the project with a vigour belying his 73 years and poor state of health. While the rest of us fretted and worried about the impact of so much physical activity on him, Jeff shrugged off the concerns, and simply got on with it. An ex-army sergeant, with the Royal Signals, and made of stern stuff, Jeff dismissed any worries we had. He told us himself that he was only too pleased to have an alternative focus to his illness, a fact he demonstrated every day of the shoot. He was an inspiration to us all.

Jeff, far left, discussing the next move with James, next to him. Anne is far left in the background between them. I'm rummaging in the boot stage right!

Location wise, there were so many choices and opportunities. With their lifetime of experience and insight, James and ML chose several sites and duly photographed them for a story board layout. James had identified the magnificent citadel in Gozo’s capital, Victoria, as our first location.

First stop - The Citadel in Victoria, Gozo

This dignified monument towers impressively over the town on its own naturally defensible hill. Confident in its ability to protect, and silent in keeping its unimaginable secrets, the citadel is host to an abundant history. Dating back possibly to Neolithic times and fortified during the Bronze Age, the citadel has been developed by numerous civilisations including the Phoenicians and the Romans. As a medieval castle originally known as called Gran Castello, the citadel’s walls were fortified in the 15^th century to protect against the persistent raiding of the corsairs. In 1551, the citadel experienced its worst defeat, being besieged by 100,000 Ottomans who took almost the entire population of between 4-5,000 people as slaves. Only 1 monk and 40 old people were spared.

The citadel was rebuilt, and as the island recovered from being sacked, which took over 50 years, the entire population took to the sanctuary of its walls between dusk and dawn right up until 1637. Subject to many more additions and renovations, including input from the Order of St John in the 17^th century, the citadel stands today as an extraordinary testament to the town’s bygone era.

My favourite shot of the day :)

Extensive renovations began again in 2008 and are ongoing. Today, the citadel is home to a baroque cathedral, 2 chapels, a 16^th century prison, and several museums, all of which are open to the public.

It was against this grandiose background that we began filming. Slipping quietly up the steep hill, long before this small city awoke, we could almost hear the ancient echo of the footsteps of Napoleon’s soldiers on the smooth worn stairs. Posing for still shots among the ancient cannons and taking time to peer over the battlements at the 360 degree perspective, this truly was an awe inspiring place to film.

Threading our 600cc Suzuki Bandit motor bike up the limited street was a feat in itself, and drew some curious glances from the local people who had started to arrive for their daily work inside the butter coloured walls.

Our lovely 600cc Suzuki Bandit Motor Bike - why do I look like an alien?

I wonder what the old monk would have thought about hearing the strains of Mustang Sally up and down the narrow alleys. As we completed our day’s shoot, I noticed a nun arriving for her morning prayers. Completely unfazed by the alien sight of cameras and people dressed in sparkly outfits at 7am, she simply nodded a courteous greeting and went about her business, maintaining the heritage of hundreds of years.

Takes more than Steve in his sparkly jacket to phase the nuns at the Citadel

Next stop was down on the acclaimed shores of the Azure Window at Dwerja. Preparing a film set on this rugged surface was, in short, a challenge. Our team rose to the occasion and carried drums, speakers and more onto the beach, which is more rock than sand. Our activities drew the attention of dozens of tourists, not least when Steve had the brilliant idea of putting his drum kit on the roof of the car while I drove it around the car park as he played. Good job we had fireman Colin on task to help haul the kit up onto the car roof! Steve sat playing his drums, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to play drums on top of a moving car J but then that’s Steve for you.

This is normal .......... right?

Fireman Colin helps him down

Tourists lined up to film the spectacle, as I drove; creeping in between the bright stalls of the traders, who unlike the holiday makers, looked completely underwhelmed by our actions.

As we came to a halt, and Steve climbed down, a burly looking guy approached him. Sweating in the heat of the early morning sun, he leaned in and in an accent which was pure Glaswegian, declared, “I know you”, though it sounded a bit more like, “Ahh knooo yoooo”. Steve peered at him, somewhat bemused by this unasked for interlude. Emboldened, the man prodded a finger at Steve and repeated his claim, “Ihh’m telling yooo, ahh knooo yoooo” he declared loudly. “Did y’ever sing in Derbyshire?” he asked, hitting the nail on the head in one. Surprised, Steve acknowledged that he had indeed done a lot of singing in Derbyshire. The man nodded, happy in the knowledge that he had been right. “Told yooo” he crowed to his non-plussed wife who was watching the exchange, and turning back to Steve he muttered, “Ahhh knew ahhh knew yoooo” and off he went!

Phew, glad that bit's over then

After this short and amusing interlude, James gave us the interesting news that he wanted to film us, right up there on top of the Azure Window. Now, this ancient monument, like most things that have been battered by the sea, is falling into disrepair. There are signs aplenty warning of the dangers of climbing on top of the archway, but not wishing to ruin a good shot, off we went. I ditched my high heels for trainers and made the long climb up to the pinnacle, and was rewarded with an unrivalled view of the ocean. We had walkie talkies and communicating with James, heeding his cues as to when to mime and move – and so it was, that we did our routine, feeling on top of the world and smiling out loud as we did it J J We won’t mention the fact that only a short time after we filmed up there, part of the Azure Window collapsed! No, it wasn’t us that broke it – honest!

That was quite a climb!

We have so many wonderful memories of the week we spent filming that short 4 minute video. The impromptu lunches, all of which seemed to involve Ollie the lurcher getting more than anyone else. I recall singing Mustang Sally about 45 times a day, as we shot take after take (I’m serious) but most of all, I remember the friendships we made. For ever after if we sang Mustang Sally at a gig, all of those dear friends would run screaming for the door and who could blame them; after an entire week of the same song ……………. enough was enough!

If I'm looking in the fridge, then Ollie had to be looking too

Oh and SURELY this small pack of chocolate biscuits is for me

It is a sad fact of life that all things must come to an end. We were truly sad when the week of filming ended. James and ML moved on from Gozo, continuing their travels elsewhere. I had to return to the UK to work, and everyone went back to their every day lives.

It was with extreme sorrow that we learned that Jeff lost his fight with cancer in 2013 and even more tragically, his lovely wife Anne succumbed to the same illness only one year later. They were both much beloved by many people, and are very sorely missed. I like to think that in some small way, being part of this project gave Jeff a pleasant interlude during a very difficult time in his life. We were lucky to have him be a part of it. 

The truly smashing Mr and Mrs Jeff and Anne Cox - thanks guys, for everything

That piece of rock can boast many things, but I’m pretty damn sure that no one in its long history has ever stood atop it performing a dance routine and singing Mustang Sally. 

Well they have now.

             

Packing up to go home - I'm telling you I must be part alien, see only 4 fingers on each hand :)

Find out more about our life in Gozo in my new book, Gozo Is the Grass Greener? Available via Amazon or in good book stores and published by Faraxa Books. 

This was a blue suede shoes production! 

And having the last word, Jeff, James, Steve, and of course Ollie

Here is our tribute video of thanks to all those who helped in the production of the Mustang Sally video. 

Good times people, good times J

What’s that? Oh you’d like to see the video of Mustang Sally? Ok, here’s the link – but remember, I used a different name back then for singing, so if you’re wondering, who on earth is Georgia Rose, well, that was me J

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3QKxAndaf8

For more on James Morgan Ayres, please visit;

http://www.jamesmorganayres.com/

Freya 

Renovation Rendezvous

Ahh France, all that space, rolling green fields, acres of smiling happy sunflowers; corn swaying in the breeze and the lure of a falling down crumbly barn to renovate. 

Happy sunflowers








Having decided to leave the idyllic island of Gozo, which had been our home for the last four years, Steve and I are now in Southern France, more specifically in the Midi-Pyrenean region. There are several reasons for us being here, one of them being that we, like many other stalwart Brits before us, fancy a renovation project. I can almost hear the collective intake of breath from those of you who know about such things. Many of you may even be wincing in advance, sure in the knowledge that this can only end in tears. You may be right, but undeterred by all the horror stories that accompany such ventures, we set out yesterday on our first day of house hunting.

We headed for the Dordogne; ahh the space, the rolling green fields, the acres of happy smiling sunflowers – oh sorry, we’ve established that already.

We had four appointments, all made via one estate agent. Our specifications were clear;

-      It MUST be detached – what with Steve being so anti-social and all J

-      It MUST be fairly isolated – we don’t want to annoy the neighbours with our music

-      It has to be under a certain budget

-      Etc etc

Clear? I thought so; sigh.

The night before, I began making my list. I am a list person, I love lists, my life is ordered by lists; I find lists disturbingly satisfying as I tick things off them, safe in the knowledge, that if it’s ticked off the list – all will be well. I had called to Steve as I wrote and ticked;

“Did you put the battery in the new camera?”

Now to be fair, he didn’t actually answer me, but as I’d seen him playing with the new camera and as I’d charged the batteries for it, I just assumed ……… BIG mistake.

A day trip out for us is akin to launching the Titanic. With this in mind, I packed my trusty red rucksack for the journey and with my lengthy checklist in hand, ticked things off as they disappeared into the seemingly bottomless miracle of a bag.

Like Mary Poppins bag, I can fit an amazing amount of stuff in here

Walkie Talkies – check

Phones x 3 – check

Details of all houses, maps, phone numbers etc – check

Baby wipes for my OCD need to have clean hands before I eat – check

Brand new camera – check

2^nd backup camera “in case” – check

Sat Nav – check

Picnic – this is a whole separate list all on its own – check

Money – check

Okay, we’re all set.

We opened the door to load up the Land Rover and were met with the dismal sight of clouds hanging low in the sky. Steve sniffed the air like a gun dog, “I think it’s going to rain” he declared solemnly, “Do you want to put the raincoats in?”.

Now, let me explain; in the UK, we had bought 2 lovely rainproof jackets of great quality. They were half price in the Debenhams sale, so silly not to have them. I did question whether or not it was cheesy to have matching jackets, and having been told no, we bought them. They were now hanging in the wardrobe in the spare room. The problem I had was this; the last time I went in that wardrobe, the biggest blackest, hairiest spider in the universe had emerged, and peeved at the disturbance had, to my trained eye, headed straight for me. I had retreated squealing from the room, returning broom in hand to deal with him. Trouble was, he’d gone. Of course that meant that he was still in there somewhere, no doubt in my rain jacket pocket, just waiting for revenge. I was therefore less than enthusiastic to get the jackets.

Steve's lovely Maine Jacket, which didn't make the trip

“I’m sure it won’t rain” I said with more conviction than I felt. Steve raised an eyebrow and I put my jeans and fleece in the car “just in case”. Steve was in shorts and t shirts and as a man denied a rain jacket, did not take “just in case” clothing.

Off we went, bright and early, with me secretly wondering how I would manage without coffee for the next 100 miles.

We had driven about 10 miles when the sky turned black. Steve cocked an eye upwards, “It’s going to rain” he mused. I sat nervously, thinking about the warmth and dryness of those jackets back in the wardrobe, but then remembered that there was undoubtedly a spider in my pocket, and said nothing. Of course, it did rain, in fact, the heavens opened and it positively threw it down in buckets. I looked out of my window and tried to find the words, but none came. Maybe it was better left unsaid. In the end, it got the better of me and I laughed, “Sorry about the raincoats” I managed. “Hmmm” said Steve tactfully not mentioning the fact that I had already wriggled in to my “just in case” warm clothes, and on we went.

The Over Priced One

We were seeing the first property without the benefit of an agent as one was not available. We managed to locate it, set just off the main road. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, though it was pretty soggy underfoot; we got out, looked at it, shook our heads, and got back in. This was not the house for us. Seriously overpriced and too small to boot, this was not the one.

Nice, but way too expensive

Break Time

Undeterred, we drove the 30 miles to the next rendezvous. We were early, and so took the time to explore the lovely little village of Mareuil. We came upon a huge old chateau and decided it would make a great photo. I jumped out of the Land Rover, brand new virgin camera in hand, switched it on and stared in bewilderment. Nothing happened. Must be me I thought and tried again; no, nothing. I went back over to the Land Rover, “You did put the new battery in this camera didn’t you”? I asked Steve. He looked only slightly shame faced as he admitted that no, in fact he hadn’t. Ah well, good job I have a “just in case” camera as well as “just in case” clothes!

Luckily I had my "just in case" camera with me

We had coffee in a pizzeria and wandered around thankful of the sun, which had finally deigned to shine. We bought a baguette and a pastry from a local boulangerie and sat in a small park, sharing with one of the feral cats there. I don’t know who was more shocked, me or the cat as Steve is NOT a cat person and as a rule does not pick off morsels of ham for them on demand.

Coffee in the pizzeria

A chocolatine in the park

Well, we've all got to eat 

The Factory

On to the second property, a disused factory, just out of the village. It had potential, as it was a blank canvas, ready for someone to come and make their mark on it. We noticed the second property right behind it and were told that this was also for sale from the same owners. We spent a good hour poking around and seeing that if purchased together, they would make a splendid place to live with plenty of space for a pool or even a gite. The only drawbacks were that, there was a shared drive with another house behind us, and it was next to some kind of auto repair shop. Hmm, not exactly the isolation we had asked for; nope, this wasn’t going to be the one either.

Potential? Oui

And I thought WE had a lot of stuff!

A great prospect, but not the one

The Brambly Barn

We then travelled 30 miles north to meet another agent and follow her to the next property, an old barn with over an acre of ground. We pulled up at the side of the road, and followed the pointed finger of the agent, “There it is” she said helpfully. We looked in unison across a field where indeed stood an old barn. “Err, how do we get to it”? I asked, stating the obvious question. “You can’t” replied the agent seriously, “The access is all overgrown”. We looked and agreed that it would take Prince Charming with his trusty sword to hack through the brambles and briars that had grown up across the entrance, and so all we could do was stare at it from 500 yards distant.

There it is - get your binoculars out

“What’s that house right next door?” I enquired, seeing a newly built red brick bungalow, which most certainly was not in the photograph I had. “Oh that went up really quickly” offered the agent mournfully, “When we took the photos, that was just a foundation; they built it really quickly”. 

Where's Prince Charming when you need him? A sea of brambles

“It kind of towers over the barn doesn’t it?” I noted with a hint of disappointment. Nope, this wasn’t the one. Ah well, it made us smile.

The Crumbly Barn

We then followed the same agent to the really pretty village of St Aulaye to see another barn. I had high hopes for this one. L shaped and set in half an acre of its own grounds, it was just on the outskirts of the village, and a total renovation project. Reasonably priced and within our budget, this was one I had secretly thought might be “the one”.

Such high hopes for this one

As we entered into the courtyard, I commented on the numerous outbuildings, which were attached, or which formed part of the little complex. The agent stepped up and consulting her papers said, “Ahh yes, but this bit here is not included, and err, let me see, ah yes, neither is this bit”. She pointed to 2 parts of the property, one of which was attached to the main building, and one, which was attached to an outbuilding.

But the L shaped bit on the end ...... that's not included!

I stared in disbelief, “What do you mean, these bits aren’t included”? I asked incredulously, “They’re attached to it”. The agent looked almost surprised as she answered me, “Yes, I know” she said in an annoyed tone, which offered sympathy to me, “It’s the way it is here sometimes”. I took a breath and chose my words carefully. “Well, that’s disappointing” I said calmly, “Especially after I specified that we would only consider a detached property, and in reality, this isn’t detached”. More sympathetic noises were made as we made our way, disillusioned, back to the Land Rover. Nope, not the one.

Lovely big garden, but it wasn't to be

The Old Corn Mill

The agent then told us that she had another property she could show us, but warned that it did have a holiday home attached on one side. However, it was a huge barn with massive potential and while it was out of our price range, we were assured that the owner would take a drop, quite a considerable drop. Okay, nothing to lose, lead on.

The barn was just outside Aubeterre, which is in the Charente region. Our first reaction on seeing this ex corn mill was “WOW”. It was massively impressive and could not fail to make you sit up and take notice. But was it a contender? Could we really pull this off and renovate such a enormous building? It had land, an attached office, and so many features, which would make it a unique and interesting property, once renovated.

WOW, what a possibility for someone, sadly not us

Renovate THAT - it would take a small fortune

However, it did have a small complex of gites and holiday homes next door, one of which was attached. I could only imagine the neighbours faces once Steve began drilling, hammering and generally disturbing their expensively paid for, peace and quiet. 

This photo gives you a sense of scale, it makes Steve look tiny

Did I want to buy it? Yes I did, but at the outset of this venture, we agreed that we would NOT fall into the trap of paying too high a price for a piece of real estate, only to run out of cash to make it habitable. So many people have made this mistake, and we are determined not to fall into this trap. Having looked over the corn mill, Steve estimated that it would cost over and above our budget to renovate it, which was a great shame as it was the best property of the day, but nope, it wasn’t the one.

We set off for home having learned a great deal and with new ideas. Eager to gauge what Steve thought about all the properties, I asked him, “So, what do you think? Are any of them worth putting an offer on?” He was silent for a few minutes, and then said, “I need to think about it”. I nodded; that was the wise thing to do, think about it, yes definitely, it needed thought. Well, he thought and he thought – all the way home. Once we got back and had our coffee in front of us, I asked again, “So? What do you think?” Silence reigned supreme. I got up to make us something to eat, allowing him space to gather those thoughts of his, which can be so difficult to part with. The minutes ticked by until I could wait no longer, “Do you think” I asked hesitantly, “That at any time soon, there might be some words spoken on this subject?”

Steve came out of his reverie, looked thoughtful and said “I’m still thinking”. The answer finally came through this morning – we won’t be putting an offer in on any of them.

Ah well, back to the drawing board ……………….. watch this space folks, I’ll keep you posted J

Freya