"Le Pepper" chez Le Burger à 6 Pâtes

After my first visit to Le Burger à 6 Pâtes, I said that I would definitely be returning to sampling each of the 11 burgers on the menu. My first was the Supreme Cheese and then I had the Bacon Poivre. Both were more than worth the €10, especially seeing as the chips they serve are pretty darn good. I had thought that I would eat here once a week, but then realised that may be a little sad. So after more than ten days since the Bacon Poivre, I was craving the next burger on the list. Le Pepper is a new addition to the menu and is billed as; an 180g butcher’s steak inside baker’s bread, two slices of mozzarella, salad, tomato and my favourite part of the description, andalouse and samurai sauce. That’s right, samurai sauce. In a nutshell, Le Pepper is a proper steak in a ciabatta roll, with some melted cheese and some funky sauce. And it works. Moist, flavoursome and not too heavy, Le Pepper has all the makings of a nice, home made burger, which is what makes the burgers at Le Burger à 6 Pâtes so good. Three down, eight to go. Next up, Le Montagnard.

Le Pepper

J’ai une tache cette année, déguster tous les burgers chez Le Burger à 6 Pâtes. J’ai déjà gouté Le Supreme Cheese  et Le Bacon Poivre, les deux qui sont parfaits. Ensuite, Le Pepper : Pain du boulanger, 1 steak du boucher 180gr, 2 tranches de mozzarella, salade, tomate, sauce samouraï et andalouse. La combinaison parfait selon moi.  Avec les frites salées, Le Pepper a le gout d’un burger maison, quelque chose de commun parmi les autres burgers sur le menu et quelque chose qui rend les burgers chez Le Burger à 6 Pâtes irrésistible pour moi et tout le monde. J’ai mangé trois, il reste huit. Suivant, Le Montagnard.

Desde hace mi primer viaje a Le Burger à 6 Pâtes,  tenia una misión de gustar todos los hamburguesas del menú. Ya he comido Le Supreme Cheese y Le Bacon Poivre pero ahora es el tiempo de Le Pepper. Nuevo en el menú, le Pepper esta construido de un hamburguesa de 180 gramos en pan de la panadería, queso mozzarella, tomate, ensalada, salsa samuraï y andaluza. Sobre yo, la combinación perfecta y las patatas fritas que acompañan el burguer  no están tan malas. Parece como un hamburguesa hecha en casa y eso es lo que hace Le Burger à 6 Pâtes tan bueno. Ya he gustado tres del once, faltan ocho. Siguiente, Le Montagnard.

Le Burger à 6 Pâtes, 11 Rue du Barry, Fumel,47500

P.E. Class all over again...

My latest attempt at social integration led me to the local football team. After enquiring with a few locals, I managed to track down the training pitch and practice times. So, buzzing to meet some other jeunes and have a good old-fashioned kick about, I set out with a spring in my step, despite the vicious turn in the weather. Upon arrival, I introduce myself to two young sporty looking types, explain my situation, and ask if there was a coach or captain I should talk to. As I chat with the coach, I’m starting to feel quite excited about the prospect of some team sport after spending the majority of my time so far alone. The changing room has filled up somewhat by the time the coach asks me what position I play. Casually I tell him I play either left-back or centre-half. A puzzled look greets this latest statement. He then explains that this is rugby, which is followed by raucous laughter from the entire town’s rugby squad and I exit stage left, tail between my legs, thinking back to all those times I’d forgotten an item of P.E. kit and was forced to play football in school shoes or borrow some speedos from the lost property box. 

I eventually managed to track down the football team, which was in fact a handful of chaps lingering under some shelter hoping that not enough people would turn up so they wouldn’t have to train in the rain. To my delight, 10 others turned up and we had enough for a 5-a-side match. After about an hour of fairly intense football, one of the players hit the deck after a collision with another player and immediately cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder. So the session came to an abrupt end whilst we waited for the pompiers. It had been an eventful introduction to the team, but I was glad to have finally located some social activity in the town.

Cauchemars dans le vestiaire

Cette semaine, j’ai fait des recherches sur l’équipe de foot du village. J’ai trouvé le terrain et je demandais aux jeunes s’il y avait un entraineur ou capitaine avec qui je dois parler. Je me présentais au entraineur et j’expliquais que je suis en France pour une année et je dois jouer. Le vestiaire s’est remplis des gens quand il me demandais  en quel position je joue et je répondais que je suis arrière gauche et je joue en défense. Silence. Il m’expliquait que je suis dans le vestiaire de l’équipe de rugby US Fumel-Libos et tout le monde riait au nez de moi et je sortais toute de suite mort de l’embarras.  A la fin, je trouvais les footballeurs et nous jouions une heure de foot assez intense jusqu'à un homme cassé son bras. Une introduction assez dramatique au sport français. 

Agen vs Bath - 18th October

When I found out I was spending the year in the Lot-et-Garonne, I immediately checked out the sports teams in the area and Agen Rugby Club was the only one. So when the opportunity arose to see and English club play here I couldn’t miss it. Getting tickets was easy, €11 online for seats directly behind the posts. Stade Armandie is easy enough to find, heading south on Rue President Carnot from the station for about ten minutes then taking a right once you see the floodlights. Size wise, the stadium is similar to Kingsholm, if The Shed was a grandstand and the hospitality stand at one end wasn’t there. The official attendance was around 4,000, which surprised me seeing as Bath are Agen’s only rival for the qualification spot. The atmosphere was akin to any other rugby stadium, big queues at the bars, which sell bread and pate to accompany the beer.

Not a bad view for €11

The lack of a stand at one end meant the wind was hammering into the ground making life very difficult for the full-backs and the place kickers. From what I’d been told about Agen from locals, I was expecting Bath to dominate proceedings from the outset and throughout. However I, along with Bath, was rattled by Agen’s fast start and first-half dominance. Being sat at the end Bath were attacking I was expecting to see a lot of action close up but I ended up straining to see what was going on down the other end. Agen were dominating every area and Bath barely had any possession. Despite conceding an early try and spending little time in Agen’s 22, Bath went in at half time only trailing by 2 points, thanks to a rather fortuitous try from Michael Claasens, who pounced on the ball after the home side had messed up a scrum on their own five metre line.

As the second half started, I was expecting to see a lot more action close-up, after Agen dominating possession in the first half, but Bath came out firing, scored two quick tries and looked to be heading for a win. The home fly-half, Philippe Lagarde, had other ideas. In impossibly windy conditions, he landed some monstrous kicks, not missing all night and putting his team 22-20 up with minutes to play. With the home crowd buzzing for the win, Bath mounted another attack, breaking tackles easily, as had been the case in the second half, an were creeping towards the try line, and the victory. After an agonizing few phases on the 5-metre line, a heap of players went down under the posts and the crowd went silent. The ref went upstairs to check with the TMO and the try was awarded, the away team players went bananas and the stadium emptied, all within 30 seconds. Bath had snatched an unlikely victory despite scoring four tries to Agen’s one. The second half dominance, spearheaded by a herculean effort in the scrum, proved the difference and even Stephen Donald, or Stephen Biggs as the local paper called him, having an off day (2 from 6) didn’t prove too costly. 

Stephen Biggs, Bath's new fly-half

After the dramatic end to the game, the 30-odd away fans gathered around the tunnel for the customary post-match analysis with the players, along with a few cheesy photographs! The Bath players seemed genuinely glad to have some support in what was a hostile arena at some points. They deserved that gratitude a great deal as Agen is not the easiest place to reach from south west England. Speaking to a few fans, the simplest journey seemed to be to fly to Bergerac from Southampton and then rent a car for the hour or so trip. Although the tickets to the game were cheap, the travel can’t have been and the players really appreciated the vocal support from a small corner of the ground. I couldn’t have chosen a better time to go to my first game, not only was the game a fantastic contest, complete with last play try, I got to experience the French passion for rugby first hand, when a home fan approached me after the final whistle and told me, “Doucement!!” which in English would probably translate to “You better pipe down!” Completely dumfounded by this, I took a closer look at this man as he walked off, and apparently this was a bad idea, as he returned to ask me if we had a problem. Holding back the laughter I assured him that there was no problem, and to my relief he was ushered away by a few more home fans leaving the ground. I knew that they took rugby seriously in this neck of the woods, but I never thought that my polite support of the opposition was offensive, especially seeing as Agen still had a chance to make it through to the knockout stages of the Amlin Challenge Cup.  Not even that small confrontation could spoil my first trip to Agen, if anything, it made it an even more complete event. 

Agen Again...

The reason for my latest trip to Agen was to see the Agen rugby team play Bath in the European Challenge Cup. Check out the matchreport. So I thought I’d make a day of it.

The train line between Agen and me was undergoing maintenance so there was a replacement bus service. I say bus, but I think rollercoaster is more appropriate. The countryside of the Lot-et-Garonne is undulating, to say the least. However the journey gave me a chance to see parts which you don’t get to see from the train, like the picturesque riverside town of Penne d’Agenais, which boasts a fantastic hilltop cathedral. I also noticed some very grand property, which I can only assume is owned by highflying city dwellers during the holidays.  An hour later we pulled into Agen, and I went in search of the hotel I’d booked into for the night, seeing as the match didn’t kick off until 8.45pm. I was fully aware that when I booked the Hotel des Ambans I shouldn’t expect the Four Seasons, seeing as I only paid €34. However, I was starting to rue my thriftiness when I saw the sign for the hotel, with just the single *, but was happy at least that it was signposted. 

My hope took a further knock when I turned into Rue des Ambans and I was greeted with this sight…

Rue des Ambans

A further sign that perhaps this place was not for me was the fact that it’s actually locked for four hours at lunchtime. So I was forced to kill some time in Agen before I could check in, providing I still wanted to. Having sussed out the area around the Boulevard de la République on my previous visit, I ventured east off Rue President Carnot where I found endless upmarket fashion boutiques, bars and the Agen rugby shop, which sells everything from replica jerseys to berets. After heading back to the boulevard to try and soak up some pre-match atmosphere, I stumbled across the Serge Blanco Shop.

Finally appreciating the region’s passion for rugby, I stumbled upon a hoard of travelling Bath fans in Café de la Bourse, this was the atmosphere I’d been searching for. I grabbed at cracking baguette from deli chain La Mie Calîne at a bargain and headed back to my hotel in high spirits. These spirits were heightened further when I discovered that my back-alley hotel was actually pretty good.  Yes it may appear to be a converted brothel, with narrow winding staircase and as many rooms as possible crammed onto the three floors, but, once inside my room, imagining what may have happened in this room in the past, I was pretty happy with my booking. The double bed was incredibly comfortable, I had my own shower, and although the toilet was shared with the other rooms on the floor, I wasn’t complaining for 30 euros.

The match was fast approaching, and after meeting my friends, we made the easy walk from the boulevard to Stade Armandie. Heading south on the main drag of Rue President Carnot, we picked up the crowds and took to our seats. (For more details see match report). 

After a good night’s sleep at the hotel, I again wandered around Agen and got the impression that it must be quite an affluent city, as the majority of clothing stores I visited were massively upmarket. The city was thriving even early on a Friday morning and I couldn’t help feeling that being out in the sticks, I’m missing out on the real French lifestyle, the one I envisaged when I signed up for this year. Oh well, it was another great trip to Agen and I’ll definitely be spending more time there, both at the rugby and the city in general.

Hotel des Ambans, 59 Rue des Ambans, Agen, 47000

La Mie Calîne, Boulevard de la République, Agen, 47000

Agen

The capital of the Lot-et-Garonne region, Agen, was the venue for my first French soirée. Getting there is easy enough from anywhere in the region, and I didn’t even have to pay for my train. I got to the station expecting to buy a ticket at the desk, only to discover there was no attendant on Saturday afternoon, so I just assumed I’d buy one on the train. Whilst sat on the train, I marvelled at the fantastic countryside, which was bathing in the October sun, which continues to keep me smiling. When I realised that we’d arrived in Agen, I also realised that no one had challenged me for a ticket, nor had anyone checked the tickets of the 20 other passengers. Assuming I’d be challenged at the station gates where I’d explain myself to the relevant authority I marched straight into the station, then straight out the exit door into Agen, without as much as a passing glance. Obviously this is all confidential between us but it made me wander how many people bother to buy tickets if the controls are so loose. Anyway, due to the infrequency of trains to Agen, I had an entire afternoon to kill. So I headed to the Boulevard de la République, a delightful pedestrianized shopping promenade, where I found the Café de la Bourse, and perched myself in front of the first of a handful of Heineken Cup matches (or H Cup as they say here). 

Café de la Bourse

After two consecutive French victories, I went to meet up with my group at the Pub Au Bureau at the end of the Boulevard, which seemed like the place to be in Agen on a Saturday night. I had seen places like Au Bureau all over Europe, but they usually have a far less imaginative name like O’Malley’s or Paddy’s. Yes Au Bureau may be a typically European ‘Irish Pub’ but the atmosphere was a thousand time better than I could ever have imagined, like what I imagine a Dublin pub is like on St Patrick’s day. Just next door to the pub is the Disco Saint Barth, and although the word disco doesn’t instil much confidence to us Anglophones, I’ve been told that disco is what the French say for nightclubs.

All in all, my first trip to Agen was a success, not only due to the free travel, but also the proof that Lot-et-Garonne isn’t just about prunes and long weekends. I’ll definitely be back soon.

Café de la Bourse, Boulevard de la République/Place des Laitiers, Agen

Pub Au Bureau, Place Jasmin, Agen