We pluck up the courage and strength (somehow!) to shift the concrete trough to open up our well.
There’s a well (un puits, une source, un puits profond) on the property (which in theory may well be shared with our next-door neighbour who we never see). Anyway, this well must have been covered up and unused for many years/decades and naturally Other Half wanted to see if it was still ‘working’.
Slight problem was that, for safety, the well had a concrete water trough placed upside-down over it which would need shifting somehow. Slightly daunting task. However, and by happy coincidence, we also needed a solution to the problem of people heading up our track – and sometimes literally driving or cycling through what is now our private garden – because they didn’t realize that people now occupy the property. (The old farm track goes right around our property and locals are used to just driving right around the property rather than having to do an inconvenient U-ey!).
So naturally, a large concrete trough on our bit of the track would send a clear but hopefully not too unfriendly message that ‘You can’t go here anymore’ to those people!
So back to the well, we just man/woman-handled that extremely heavy trough right off that well and onto our track. Sorted!
Turns out the well is around 11metres deep, (and smells a bit rank) but there is water down there (and who knows what else…!). Couldn’t see anything sinister though. Like bones.
We believe French pharmacies can send your well water off for testing, so let’s see if that is an actual thing.
Of course, to ward off any lingering malevolent spirits, we made an offering of wine (rosé, in fact) to the spirit of the well then sat in the trough on our drive to drink the rest of the wine. Bonkers, but it felt right!
We didn’t try the water though.
Next post (possibly): déchèterie visits and skip-diving