The plumber must live down the street because in 2 minutes he arrives. He smiles and asks “Still problem?” I say yes and we go down to the WC, where I flush and… nothing happens, I mean, toilet flushes no problem, no leaking. Flush again, nothing happens. Swearing under my breath I turn to the plumber and explain to him where the water was coming out of and what was happening. He chuckles and flushes again, this time, Niagara frickin falls. Drag over the towels I had on standby. He says he sees what the problem is but that he is too busy to fix it today. “Do you have another WC up?” he asks pointing upstairs. “Yes” I reply thinking ‘And thank god I do’. Well, good he says because he has many jobs but he will return to remove toilet and fix problem. I don’t bother to ask when he will return, but am hoping the problem will be fixed before J and Rich arrive in January. Am not, however, holding my breath.
Photo of the Abbots chapel at the Abbey at La Grasse
