Over the last couple of years, I have read with great interest the political machinations regarding hunting in the UK. I am afraid from a PC point of view I have no real opinion either way on the subject, other than I liked the idea of the Stirrup Cup before the off, but I suppose they haven?t banned that yet.
Over here in the deep hilly farming and forested countryside of the Midi Pyrenees hunting is a tradition, a fact of life, a raison d?etre and a very important source of food for the family. It?s a blunt, no nonsense, business and the fact is, that you hunt it, kill it?and eat it?whatever it is.
Our first introduction to this rather brutal pastime was through our neighbour who wandered in one afternoon with a supermarket shopping bag and with great gusto snogged Elaine on both cheeks and handed her the prize. She accepted the gift with a big smile on her face expecting fruit or vegetables from his garden or a bottle of his home made hooch. As she looked into the bag she turned white then a strange greeny colour as she handed me the still warm dead pheasant.
Over the next few months we had deliveries of huge River Aveyron mud coated freshwater fish (still flapping), pieces of wild boar still wearing their prickly hair, rabbits still dressed in their fur coats, various other birds and the piece de resistance a Bambi.
Yes a cuddly, furry baby deer!!
The doorbell rang and it was a friend of mine Fabrice with a couple of his mates and his beaten up old Peugeot 205. The girls were both home from school so followed me down to the gate. Fabrice was quite excited and said he had a gift for me in the boot. The girls and I crowded around as he opened the door and there it was, curled up looking like it was asleep, with a bullet hole through its chest. The girls screamed then both burst into tears, at nine and eleven I suppose it was rather a rude wake up call for both of them?. and me!
The family got into a little system as dead hairy, furry creatures were delivered or left on the step, they were brought in through the front door, black bagged then taken out the backdoor to the communal bins. I suppose you could say, ?we got shot of them?.
I eventually managed with grave diplomacy to explain to our friends and neighbours that our freezer wasn?t big enough for all this road/field/forest kill, the girls were not keen on seeing dead bunnies and that Elaine wasn?t up to skinning and cooking them?but don?t tell her I said so.
It isn?t just the wild animals that get shot, Le Chasse manage quite often to shoot each other, their dogs and the occasional passing sales rep, even our local bobby was winged by a passing bullet?there was a great deal of discussion at the local cafés as to whether it was an accident or an assassination attempt. I had a chat with him a couple of weeks later in our local bar and he explained that the bullet had ricocheted off a rock and two trees before hitting him in the hand and then whispered very quietly that the assassin must have been a terrible shot or drunk at the time.
I have been invited on numerous occasions to join in the slaughter but have always found an excuse?.?Sorry I have a terrible cold and would be sneezing all day, I had a bath two days ago so would smell too clean? or? I don?t own a bright orange cap and fleece?. Sebastian our son went off at the crack of dawn one morning with a hunter friend of his and had a rather boring time standing in the cold mist and rain on the side of a hill for six hours. His only comment on the day was ?Dad. Next time I go I?ll take a good book!?.
In the local bars and cafés it is a major topic of conversation and it was a great surprise to me that many of our local families do rely on the kill for food over the winter. They all have at least three freezers in their garage to store the divided pieces of carcass for later consumption.
Another farmer friend of mine was telling me about going after the local wild boar which hunt in families and destroy gardens, fields, crops of every species, woodland, sheds, swimming pools and just about anything else that gets in their way. He said he had got a big one two weeks ago up in the hills?I asked him what it was like?he took a swig of Pastis and said?.delicious!
To assure my readers, our guests and summer holidaymakers it is a very safe environment as ?La Federation De La Chasse? bans hunting between about March and October. So when I talk about our ?tourist season? here in Saint Antonin Noble Val, please note I am not discussing fully armed, orange clad, unshaved, unwashed locals and their loud unruly dogs taking pot shots at sunburnt visitors.
