A little racy, I admit, but far less romantic, and instead of setting off in search of the famous and improbable treasure of Kerbeleg, we set off on a relentless search, not for the source of the water like Manon, but for its more obscure destination. We are sorely missing the left (west) half of the map of the Kerbeleg drains, which contains details of the house’s hectic underground life. Probably one of our elders had the same concerns as us and got hold of it. Perhaps this is the treasure map, a bit like the fable of the ploughman, “Dig, dig, spade”, this is indeed the treasure, in this sense we are fulfilled and our clothes filthy with the pain caused.
The plumber has been digging for days, uncovering old pipes that seem to have disappeared up (!) the north side of the property, which seems an aberration given that there is a hill and not a downward slope. We therefore had to call in a company specialising in endoscopy to help us retrace the route of the buried black and grey water drainage pipes. For those who have had the privilege of experiencing one under general anaesthetic, little difference, the camera always ends up diving into obscure cavities…
It’s time to dig, as the rising odours from the floor and walls (!) are getting to us.
With Hugo’s help, we attacked the mound at the point indicated by our expert’s sonar. If the sonar indicates that the pit is under the pavement, we’re in trouble… With a bit of luck, the opening will be further north. We were lucky (but the hole was deep):
With such a depth, it’s hardly practical to carry out regular maintenance on this tank. When we opened the lid, we were delighted to discover that it was not only full, but completely saturated, at least on the surface, with everything you should never put in a toilet. We’ll remember this for the little ‘house rules/sanitary’ signs, as we did in Singapore.
