Le Taupe Anglais

Having spent the day on your ride on mower trying to recreate the lawns of England in your French estate, you lie back on the sun bed and admire the acres of perfect turf. Whilst you relax, beneath the surface of the lawn an evil devil is designing his next underground network. Within hours of perfecting your bowling green this beast with web feet has recreated the Somme in your garden.

 

Yes the mole (le taupe) is back; despite all your best efforts he continues to wreak havoc in your garden. Initially I was fairly relaxed about the problem and having a wife who is very much into protecting the wildlife my efforts to deter these ‘lovely little things’ was considerate in the extreme.

 

I visited the local garden shop to seek advice and was shocked at range and variety of deterrents, traps, poisons and explosive devices available. Clearly the mole problem is big business in France.

 

I decide my first approach would be to try and convince the moles that my garden was not a pleasant place to be, so the purchase of a sonic vibrator seemed sensible. These devices consist of a ten inch prong which conceals a vibrating apparatus powered by batteries. The theory being that the device emits a sound which resonates through the soil scaring away the moles. After the first day it was clear that the moles seem to like the device as they were tunnelling ever closer till eventually on the second day they lifted it out of the ground.

 

I was beginning to get a little aggravated, but could not fail to admire their ingenuity and began to imagine a team of moles planning strategy in their underground bunker.

 

Over the next two weeks I tried a variety of concoctions available which are meant to send the moles packing when the vile mixtures are inserted into their tunnels. Regrettably this was all to no avail and the moles continued to wreak havoc across the plains of France.

 

Over the weeks I had many long conversations with my neighbours who were only to willing to spend hours surveying to scene of devastation and giving their views on the subject. It was during one of these discussions that Daniel (my farming neighbour) volunteered his father who I was reliably informed was ‘Le professor du taupe ‘. The following day Daniel’s father turned up early equipped with his traps, which I was informed must not be touched by the human hands as the moles can smell fear!

 

It was an education to watch the master at work carefully setting the traps in neatly accessed tunnels. I would love to say that my problems were solved but after two weeks of trap setting only one mole had been caught and we were clearly dealing with an infestation. Strangely you are not impressed when people tell you that you must have good soil if you attract moles.

 

On the last day of trapping Daniels father had to admit defeat and announced that in his expert opinion these were clearly ‘ Les taupes Anglais’. He did however offer one further service, suggesting that urinating on the mole hills was an ancient method of removal. I thank him for volunteering his valuable resources but confirmed I was happy to utilise my own skills for this purpose.

 

By this time War had been declared, regrettably conservation was furthermost from my mind. It was time to start tactical warfare.

 

I purchased a device which with the aid of a paddle inserted in the mole tunnel detonates a small explosive charge when the mole starts to work. Yes, how could I do this to a poor defenceless mole, but by this time I was incensed and my garden was fast becoming a dangerous place to walk. At last there were signs that my efforts and expenditure were being rewarded. By July the mole hills were a rarity and the garden began to return to normality.

 

So is the story over, no of course not, every January they return and I get out my tin hat and declare war once again. It’s me or them!

 

Tony