It can happen anytime time between the hours of eight in the morning to eight at night. It starts with an eerie low bass note and builds to a shrieking crescendo of earth moving, body piercing cacophony of sound, like something crawling from the depths of hell, with a serious headache, indigestion and a major root canal problem.

For those old enough to remember, it sounds like the old air raid sirens from the Blitz, for my younger readers it's the beginning of a very hairy fairground ride, but a lot louder, and I can assure you, it scares the living daylights out of every visitor, tourist, criminal and dog in the town, especially the older British ones!! (Tourists not criminals)

Quite often in the peace and quiet of the early morning whilst cleaning a swimming pool or replacing an empty gas canister, living in my own little world, a holiday guest creeps up on me and demands to know what that unearthly noise was at a quarter to nine that morning that disturbed their Gaillacc AOC (the Rosé is the best) induced dreamless slumber. They always make me jump arriving unannounced at such an early and peaceful time when only the birds, frogs and locals are awake, and I am in a Zen like relaxed state of mind.  The answer I say, as I come back down to earth from the shock is the Pompier Alarm.

The usual response to my answer is "Pompier, what's a Pompier"

Well in my book Pompiers are the most dedicated, single minded, selfless bunch of people I have ever met and will probably ever meet. They are local shopkeepers, artisans and town administrators who respond at the drop of a hat (or bloody loud siren) to any emergency that occurs in Saint Antonin Noble Val. They are the first and ONLY emergency service and on a daily (24/7) basis they handle every problem that arises in our little town. They are a mix of the UK's fire, ambulance, lifeboat, mountain rescue and bomb disposal services, but bar one are all amateurs. (I fibbed about bomb disposal..we leave that job to our local La Pen supporter).



To give you an idea, two of our plumbers, one electrician, our carpenters and the guy that services our car are all Pompiers and quite often halfway through their day job, their little beepers go off and so do they, in a frantic rush headlong towards the Pompier station in town.

The siren I guess is a throwback to the time before pagers and mobile phones, when most of our emergency service would have worked the fields, and today it is a back up to the pagers they carry everywhere with them, and of course to wake up and frighten the tourists!!

Last night I had some serious aperos (see chapters two, six, nine and twelve) with our plumber, Lyvian, and his family and discovered that out of the five members of the family four were Pompiers, dad, two sons and daughter. When the call goes out the noise of buzzers, beepers and sirens in that house must be deafening, but what incredible dedication to our community.

How day in and day out they can do the job is beyond me. They attend horrible car accidents, house and forest fires, heart attacks, accidents in the home, floods, hang-gliding and climbing mishaps and the delivery of premature babies. They are nearly always happy and confident and incredibly brave, well trained and efficient



They are funded by central government, which supplies all the equipment, fire engines, ambulances, and medical equipment and pays for their Pompier station in town. This is then supplemented by local money raising activities like Pompier Lotto (bingo) night, Pompier disco night and a Pompier bar and grill at the local fetes, (a bar I recommend wholeheartedly, whereas the grill is an acquired taste). However their main source of supplementary local income arrives just before Christmas every year when they come knocking on doors, (always in pairs)  selling next years calendar.

 The idea is you pay them what you can afford and in return you get a colourful action filled calendar with a photographs of them at work and of the entire Pompier team all standing to attention by the side of their bright red emergency vehicles and dressed in their best uniforms.

Elaine and the girls immediately deface the calendar ticking all those Pompiers that can, if the situation ever arose, give them the kiss of life and crossing out those whose garlicky Pernod soaked breath they would prefer not to accommodate in their lungs.

Me, I don't care I like garlic and Pernod

P.S. We have decided over the summer to franchise our property management and holiday rental business within the midi-pyrenees area. (We  already have a contract with a couple living close to the Tarn et Garonne and L'Aveyron borders

We are looking for other couples to join us who would like to earn a good living...something new and interesting everyday, legaly, insured and registered.

If you think you would be interested and live within the Midi Pyrenees region why not look at this part of our web site and get in touch  www.midipyrenees.me/Join Us.html or email me at  info@midipyrenees.me for more details. I will be putting a note up on the forum in the next couple of days.