the ache of knowing two countries…..

Well we have been back for 2 weeks now……. We are still recovering, we have been sick the entire time. Our poor bodies are reeling from dietary changes, timezone changes, going from summer to winter, going from light until 10pm to dark at 5…. they will get better over time. AT the moment though we are just resting,or trying to. The kids are resting. The Hairmeister and I are both working like mad to catch up and get our winter property jobs done in time for spring. The kids had trouble with jet lag for the first week. They kept waking at 12am ready for the day. Now an adult can reason that they should probably try their best to stay awake in the day and make themselves go to bed at night. Its very very hard to do that with kids. Especially kids under 4. They both would just sleep while doing something, whether it be playing, eating or going to the toilet, they would just fall asleep on the spot. They would then sleep for hours. You could try and wake them, but all that would happen is they would cry until they fell asleep again and rightly so. So we just had to wait it out. It took a week and a bit of gradually changing the sleeping hours. Now they are pretty much back to their proper sleeping times, but both are still pretty tired though. Probably also due to being ill.

TOP TIP

If you come back from overseas with a little kid. Don’t commit to anything for the first couple / few weeks. So far we have had to cancel everything. Even when I think we will be better in a couple of days, we haven’t. Its been worse if anything. So no matter how desperate you are to get back into the swing of things. Let your kids recover first! Take it slow.

We are glad to be back, of course we are. There is no place like home. However there are pangs, I won’t deny it. Its not the romantic pangs of being on holiday and wanting to recreate it. Its like homesickness but in reverse. I am missing things that I never thought about and certainly never thought I would miss. Things such as catching the bus to the town and getting off at the station. I am missing the walk down to the playground. I am missing the sound at the train station whenever a train is about to arrive. (its this sound in case you are interested. Very bright and cheery and we all loved it!)  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIMT7JImkHc  I am missing the heat and the sound of the cicadas http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jmt5HML3MGM  I keep thinking I can buy wine anywhere, I have moments of panic as I suddenly think I am driving on the wrong side of the road. Cheese just tastes bland and I seriously want some ravioles….  I have to stop myself from saying bonjour or au revoir. Before it could be deemed eccentric to strangers, or as excitement to people who knew me. Now it just feels pretentious. Like name dropping. I don’t know, maybe because its so out of context….. Either way, it feels silly saying it here. I am also finding it hard saying French place names. I can’t bring myself to say them with an Australian accent. Its not what they are called. Take Saint Peray for example…. Its not pronounced Sayn’t Per-ay. Its pronounced Son Peray. I can’t make myself say it yet. Its so wrong. Wrong because I know that any Australian is gritting their teeth thinking “you aren’t in France now, say it with an Australian accent.” but its not the same name. It feels so bogan and awkward I am just avoiding it….. The hairmeister is obviously missing it too. So far he has tried to recreate the pizzas and he came home the other day with nougat which he doesn’t even like.

I don’t know where this leaves me. Its not like I want to rush back and live there because it was so much better, because it wasn’t. It was wonderful and beautiful and had fantastic qualities and so does home. If I moved there, I would miss things here. A lot of things! But it does feel like part of me is still there. A little bit of my head, a little bit of my heart. One day we will go back and I can see where we stand. Its a bit like breaking up with someone on good terms! Anyway, thats where I am at now. Madly throwing myself into my property and trying to get my bearings. I never expected to feel homesick for there though, I thought it would be the other way around!

au revoir

xxx

I love Paris in the Springtime…..well Summer…..

With a lump in our throat and a heavy heart, we bade farewell to our little village. Laden down with our luggage we traipsed down the ramp towards the Eglise where our taxi was waiting for us. This time the journey was one of reflection and of madly trying to make sure we didn’t miss any detail so we didn’t forget it.

A couple of things happened the night before and that morning. In the morning I finally met the boulanger and could tell him in person that I was addicted to his tarte citron and coco glace. I also left a note and some flowers thanking his wife for letting me test out new sentences on her. She always knew I was going to say something new because I would spread my hands out and say “ok” and speak slowly and with a question mark after every word. Her reaction was always the same. One eyebrow would go up, her face would then scrunch as she tried to work out what I was saying and then her face would relax and she would either nod or shake her head and correct me. It was quite a routine!  I took my rubbish down to the bins for the last time…at dawn coincidently. So the light was extraordinary and it was a beautiful peaceful time to farewell the village.

oh and that elderly couple that never spoke…… I got a bonjour the night before I left. Not a word to me, not a word to each other in 3 months.I must have finally passed the test.

Once we passed the cliffs of the Ardeche and Crussol was a speck in the distance, my thoughts turned to our next adventure. A very cool train ride and a little holiday in Paris! This was very exciting as we hadn’t seen the hairmeister properly in a long time! We caught our local TGV to Paris and were there in a mere 2 hours. The train station was extraordinary. Both inside and out. The Hairmeister took Miss Matilda to the toilet and I stood with out luggage out the front. I now finally understood what people watching was about. There were such a variety of people and all so different. There was a huge black guy in chefs whites, little blue apron and a little white 50s milkbar cap. He seriously could have been straight out of 50′s America. There was the bling, women in white suits, gold everything, huge hair and sparkly bits on any spare skin. There was the black woman dressed like she was out of an African royal wedding. There was a really short (michael J fox height) bloke in his 40′s with a neat beard, gangster hat, sunglasses, in a suit, carrying a very neat briefcase who skateboarded through the crowd. Everywhere you turned, there was some kind of style, but certainly styles I had never seen before. I saw a man leaning on a pole, who I swear could have been a gangster from the twenties…… I felt like Calamity Jane. All I had in my head was “I just blew in from the windy city.”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MnUrhptPSo

Eiffel tower from our hotel window

We caught a taxi to our hotel “Hotel La Bourdannais” which I can’t recommend highly enough.http://www.hotellabourdonnais.fr/ It was very close to the Eiffel Tower, only a couple of minutes walk. Lots of good restaurants nearby as well. The room was a quadruple room (2 double beds) and massive. The bathroom was 3 times the size of ours at home. We arrived, walked straight to the Eiffel tower and dh set to work trying to take a quirky pic. I will post it when he puts it on the computer. I daresay you will do as I did and shake your head saying “ohhhhh hairmeister.” We were at the tower for less then 2 mins when dh runs into an Eiffel tower keyring salesman. Dh played his game and essentially talked the guy into giving him a big Eiffel tower and a couple of small ones for considerably less then the cost of 1 big one.  He was very proud and he made us carry the enormous tower around with us and refused to put it in our bag. In the cafes to him it was standing proud on display in the middle of the table – a reminder that we were in Paris. To me it was just a glaringly obvious invitation to theives that there were some tourists in their midst. As we stood at the Eiffel tower my eyes turned to the huge black clouds that were rolling in behind it.  I insisted we start heading to a cafe because we were going to be caught if we didn’t. Thank goodness we did! We sat for about 4 mins an it started bucketing down. No warning, it was sunshine, then black and pouring and freezing.  Here was our first dealing with a Parisian waiter. The ones that are so famous for being “rude.” I would like to say now, we did not experience one rude shopkeeper, waiter, bar keeper, taxi driver at all. They were people trying to do things in a hurry as they are flat our most of the time. They are very short with you to begin with. Not being rude, just being efficient. Due to their being so many English speaking tourists, they speak English. They would address us in English and we would speak French back to them, then they couldn’t be more helpful. My favourite one was a young guy, a bit arrogant…. he was only half paying attention to us, chatting to someone else why he took our order, he gave us an English menu and only spoke english to us and was just a bit, I don’t know…..arrogant seems to be the only way to describe him.  As easy as it would have been to speak English I decided bugger it, I am going to do everything in French. The hairmeister took the approach of saying an extremely detailed and complex sentence in French, just to let the guy know he could speak it and then refused to say anything else in French at all. The guy ended up just speaking French to us, so we took that as a point to us. I will say this guy was by no means typical and in all of our adventures he was the only one that was like this.

St Sulpice

Paris is……..*sigh*………just like the movies. But much grander. If you watch the movie “Midnight in Paris” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LApVrMdxdjk its pretty spot on. I know when you watch a movie or see pictures you think in real life its nothing like that. Well it is like that. Just try and tune out all the tourists!

We spent the first afternoon with Uncle Dave wandering the streets of Paris. We had a lovely dinner by the river. Miss Matilda had French Onion Soup (tell me what 4 year old requests that….so proud!) We then walked to Notre Dame where we watched fire twirlers, fireworks, musicians etc. We then walked home……quite a big walk really….didn’t get home until about 1.

The next day was spent being caught up in the “Tour de France.” We had lunch in a tour tent where people in their Lycra watched the tour on tv and then ran outside when they were going past. The beer and wine was flowing freely as was the atmosphere. The toilet line was long and I don’t think they were overly impressed when I walked straight through the hose connecting the water to the toilets. My head was down as I was drying Miss Matildas hands, so  how was I to see it! Besides, who connects water to the toilet with a clear hose hanging at head level! Either way….I avoided those toilets for the rest of the lunch…..

Tour de France on Rue De Rivoli.

After a beautiful 3 days in Paris, we made our way to the airport to fly home.  It was a fantastic trip back! The kids fell asleep on take off everytime! I didn’t sleep at all because I was so excited to be on the plane that I would have a glass of wine and watch a movie! So as a consequence….little sleep in Paris, no sleep on plane, I slept for 6 hours in Singapore in the hotel…….. whoops…..that well and truly stuffed us when we got back.

So thats it. Months of preparation, planning and stress all over red rover. It was an amazing journey, both physically and mentally. We all learned something about ourselves. I am certainly a lot clearer as to what I want. Food shopping also seems like a breeze now! I am eternally grateful for my car. I have course missed my family, friends and my animals! One thing is I am really appreciative of the range of food we have here. I always assumed France would be similar to us, but it isn’t. It depends what area you are in and whether you have a market. Either way, regional food reigns true. The restaurants all seemed to have the same menu, just slight variations. And I am sorry, but if I order a salad as a main – adding more lettuce does not equal a main. Also a pile of chorizo, bacon and  fried croutons with a slice of tomato and a slice of cucumber should not come under the salad category. The coffee is average, but the pastries are extraordinary. A heads up….if you order a cappuccino anywhere but Paris, it will be a coffee with cream on the top. Probably a lot of cream. Anyway, food is a major part of their culture and it should be part of ours too. We need to get to work supporting our local growers by buying their products. We need to grow our own food. We need to eat seasonally. Otherwise all our food will be outsourced and we will end up relying on the imported dregs from other countries. I invite you to read my upcoming blog about local food. “The Local Lunchbox.” A guide to Adelaide Hills local produce containing whats available, where to buy, recipes etc. I will also be blogging about our self sufficiency/homeschooling/travelling adventures too. I hope you can join me! Give me just a little bit of time to get it underway!

back home in the kitchen

Thank you for joining me on my voyage to valence.

xxx

Note: I may add more photos in the future as I find them. Possible stories relating to them too.

life in the village.

Well sadly I am heading into the last week of  our 3 month adventure. Life in the village has definitely been a worthwhile experience and I feel very fortunate to have (briefly) been part of this community. Like all villages, this one has a personality. Very friendly and welcoming although slightly hesitant, set in its ways but loves fun. During the week it is slow, but active, at 12 on the dot its like a ghost town as everyone goes to lunch.  From about 5 you will find people just sitting on park benches or on their chairs on their terraces in the sun. The teenagers will be heading off to the river for a swim. You will also find the neighbours standing out in front of their houses having a chat. Same time every afternoon without fail. Every morning our neighbour will be out sweeping his path and watering his pots. Every afternoon the elderly couple sit on their garden chairs on a teeny tiny slab of cement which is their yard. I have never seen them speak in 3 months.  From my window sill I watch the same people take their dogs for a walk or to the toilet – sometimes in their nightie. At lunch you can smell the food wafting from the houses as every door is wide open. You can hear the clatter of the cutlery and the dull murmur of voices. I have noticed everywhere though, when food is on the table, the talking fades away and the eating is slow.

In the village, you say bonjour to everybody. Teenagers will wave, greet you warmly and treat you with respect. You say bonjour when you  walk into a shop – any shop.  You are probably familiar with the french kiss 3 kisses one cheek, then the next and then back again. Although time consuming, time is irrelevant. Greetings take time and they greet everybody. At the train station waiting in line at the ticket office, there was a massive line. There were 4 people at the desks and a new person came in to start his shift. But not before he kissed the 2 women, and shook the 3 other employees hands. Not rushed, slowly and warmly with a big smile. You just have to wait. The hairmeister has the same at work. They get to work and every employee gets greeted. It can take a long time for everyone to greet everyone! But its just how it is.

I have noticed at the supermarket, at the train station, there is no rushing. You have to pack your own bags at the shops. At the start I was madly trying to do it so I didn’t hold everyone up. Then I realised that it is expected for you to take your time.  If you take your time, then they can take their time. There is no point rushing. I have not seen any huffing in queues from people taking too long. You just wait and it will eventually be your turn. Then you take as long as you need. I fear in Australia I may be a bit too relaxed about it now!

In a village like this, everybody knows what everybody else is doing. This is true in many small communities and I assumed it would be gossip. I have since realised it isn’t. In a place like this, you all live on top of each other. From my window in my previous house, I could see everything. I would sit in the window with a glass of rose while the kids were asleep and I could see who was talking to who, which houses they were going in, what they bought from the shops. I will just point out, I wasn’t being nosy! Some days  I had no books, no tv and no internet. Sitting in the window was all I had! Leaving the house, I would have to make my way through the barrage of neighbours. I had to plan my time to allow for the conversations on the way to the bus stop and it was very hard to try and explain I was late for the bus and not be impolite. You can also hear conversations through open doors and windows. When conversation is passionate, its very loud regardless of whether they are happy, angry whatever. You always knew when a kid was in trouble though…….. in Australia, parents tend to growl.  In France, their voices get incredibly shrill.   Using my kids as an example.If lottie was in trouble it would be Lottiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. The end is always very very high and very very drawn out. Its also community parenting…… children and other adults will not hesitate to pull your kid into line. Miss Matilda has copped it a few times but usually over climbing something she shouldn’t. Anyway, I digress. Everybody knows what everybody is doing simply because you can see. Although I assume gossip must play a part given that by about the third day strangers were greeting us with hello before we had spoken and people were referring to us as “le Australians” when we had only just met them. I did think it was a bit much, when a shopkeeper I hadn’t met served the hairmeister one evening and he told him that the kids and I had been in that day!

I am unsure as to what influence we have had. I know that people tended to be a little shocked if we ventured outside without shoes. I felt a bit sorry for the kids in the playground. They kept getting in trouble because they saw Miss Matilda with her shoes off and they would try to do the same. Their parents would grab them by the arm, and wrestle their shoes back on their feet telling them off loudly about an inch from their face. Miss Matilda completely oblivious to the drama she has caused.

One thing I can’t grasp is how everyones clothes are so clean! The kids are playing in a playground in bright white. I understand going out with clean clothes, but how do they stay clean while playing? Our clothes appear to stain as soon as they are worn. Even the homeless people had super clean clothes. Now I know I was accidently washing with fabric softener the first few weeks and I know that we have been living in the same clothes for 3 months so the wear is so much more, but I seriously have not been able to work it out! Maybe they buy the expensive washing detergent. I just haven’t been able to justify paying 10-15 euro for a years worth of washing detergent. The bottles are massive!   Either way…..I feel a bit like pig pen.

   

image courtesy of Wikipedia.

au revoir!

xxx

The festivals………..

Well its summer here and the festivals are in full swing.

We went to the best festival I have been to a couple of weeks ago. It was to celebrate the horse through the ages. It began with a parade on the Friday night in our village. It started in the square with kids on unicycles,  people on stilts, a gypsy band playing music from or stuff similar to our wedding, horses with people balancing on them. Nobody was perfect, all locals, about 60 people all up.

We then followed the performers, procession style, through the village. First the man in the red jacket with the megaphone, then the people on horses, a gypsy wagon with some of the band on it, the stilt walkers, the performers, and then the people from the village. As we walked closer to the old part of the village near our house, some people in bird costumes sprung from nowhere (well the ramp to our house….) and fluttered through the crowd trying to stare intimidatingly at individuals. As great as the costumes were, it was a little hard to be intimidated by people with egg cartons as part of their costumes.

We reached the platform near our house and the costumed performers started dancing. The band was playing continuously. It was a tight squeeze with everyone and watching the stilt walkers get about on such a steep slope was interesting! Most of us were used as supports at some point. As the dancing ceased, fireworks started in the little stone arch that leads up the ramp to the houses. Yes, in a  stone  arch less then 2m from a crowd. Looked fabulous though….lol

The procession then continued up the ramp, past our house – (see pic below next to our house) and up to the lookout. The band continued, it reminded me of the pied piper – especially with the tin whistle. There was more dancing and then fireworks set off from in a tree. Yep, the tree people were standing under and around, the fireworks just bounced off the branches whizzing, banging and smoking. It was spectacular, although for us we kind of stood there in total disbelief at how you can put fireworks in a tree in summer and it not be a problem…….

After this we made our way back down to the other square in front of the hotel where there were more equestrian displays, more dancing, singing and the night was rounded off with a proper fireworks display from the front of the hotel. The fireworks were set to music and as the music built the fireworks got faster and faster. A brilliant night and afterwards I realised I had not seen one drop of alcohol anywhere. It was just a local parade, in a village that was only advertised in the surrounding villages.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

The festival on the Saturday was brilliant! The food was sausage baguette, chicken and salador a ham baguette. Not a chip in sight! Drinks were beer (homebrew essentially from the next village), orangina and mineral water.

It was the same people from the parade, just performing properly this time. Same band, played nonstop and for all of the acts. The people with horses did all sorts of performing, leaping on and off while galloping, getting one to lie down, (for an entire other act!!) dressage to music and theatre, all very slapstick and funny. One performance involved a woman doing dressage and in the background horses were galloping past dragging people behind them, running away etc There was a trapeze artist as well. The best thing though, was it was all just a bit rough. No act was perfect, the trapeze artist fell (with wires though so all good), the horses were misbehaving – although they were all very beautiful with amazing temperaments!

To end, yet another amazing fireworks display that began in the performing area and then extended all the way up the hill. Lots of dancing and singing followed and we made our way home at midnight.

 

Waiting in the beer queue.......

We also went to a medieval festival at Crussol Castle. Finally! I finally made it to a proper medieval festival in a proper castle. There was falconry, tournaments on horseback by the Chevaliers of Crussol, medieval camps where they demonstrated how to make various things, theatre and fireworks. The food was not so great in my books though…..pizza, hot dogs, cherry tarts, beer, very bad wine, cider. We ordered the banquet (had to reserve it) and that was a much better option. Pork, 2 salads, bread, cheese, apricot tart, red wine. All of it was cooked really well. It was here that we had a realisation about the language too. Their ear is so finely tuned to the sounds of French, they have trouble understanding the slightest variation. The Hairmeister ordered a “hot dog”. It was on the board as hot dog, so that is what he asked for. They didn’t know what he meant. He ended up pointing at it….”ohhhhhhhh ot dog” came the response. Now honestly to me hot dog and ot dog are not very far apart on the spectrum…….. but this is essentially what we have been up against. Only at this moment did we realise that there is no variation on the rules, there is no room for sloppiness. You either say the word correctly or you say something entirely different, if it is a word at all……. basically you need to say it all with a French accent. Anyway, Crussol was a fabulous day/night, something the medievalist in me had been craving all my life. It was missing mead though and I was disappointed.

This week I am going to a cherry and goats cheese festival in the next village! How brilliant!!!!

au revoir!

xxx

take me to the mountains………

Bonjour!

Last week, I decided I needed a break. I decided at the last minute that I was going to head for the hills…….or higher into the hills and try and find snow. This decision may have been slightly spurred on by the fact that it was 35 last week and I don’t cope with heat very well at all. So naturally I aim for the coldest possible area I can think of.  Never mind the fact that I don’t really own clothes suitable for the snow, however it was so hot, that it felt that thermals would probably do the job just fine.

So with that in mind, I packed a backpack, bought a train ticket, found a hotel, and headed for the Alps. Annecy to be exact. The Hairmeister would join us on the weekend.  It wasn’t quite as simple as that, I also had to buy a stroller for Miss Matilda and move house. I had to move in to the new house at 10am and catch a train half an hour away at 11……. cool planning huh! We eventually decided the Hairmeister could move our belongings on the friday night when he got back from work and I would catch a taxi at 10.

BUYING A TER TRAIN TICKET

You can check the SNCF website and enter your details to come up with timetables suitable. I did this and it came up with the fabulous option of the TGV to Lyon, then change to a TER train to Annecy. I waltzed into the train station ticket office to buy my ticket only to be presented with the option of bus and train, train and bus, or bus and bus. The trips were also around 40 mins longer on average. I said no thank you, determined that I was right and hadn’t just made it up. The Hairmeister and I went and looked on their ticket machines and my trips were available. We went back in and said specifically what we wanted and with a sigh and a look of confusion as to why we would possibly choose 2 trains instead of their own bus and train, they processed my tickets. You can buy tickets from their ticket machines. However you need a credit card with a chip. A travel card will not work. Failing that you can buy it with change. The most we have paid is for a $33 ticket in change. Very annoying though. My tickets to the Alps were around 90euro so change isn’t the best option.

HOT TIP: Know what you want and write it down if you have to.

AT THE TRAIN STATION

Once inside the train station, check your destination on the computer to get the platform number. If you are getting off somewhere else, it may not be your town on the computer. For example, my train to Lyons destination was Djon ville. There are always people to ask if you need help! Toilets are around 50 euro cents for an adult to use. Kids are free. Once you head towards your platform, first VALIDATE YOUR TICKET. I am having trouble with this very simple notion and am constantly forgetting. So far I have been very lucky and haven’t had an inspector on these parts of the journey. However you get an on the spot fine if you don’t do it. The one time I did validate my ticket, I did get an inspector- but couldn’t find my tickets anywhere. After a few minutes she said “C’est bon.” (its good) and not to worry about it. I (by this stage) was frantically looking for my tickets as they genuinely were not in my bag and they contained my return ticket from the Alps. I eventually found them on a seat at the other end of the train near my backpack…….

Anyway, once you have validated your ticket, make your way to the platform. If you are on something like the TGV, with allocated seating, check your carriage number on the computer on the platform. It will give a letter corresponding to your carriage number. Then you just make your way down the platform looking for the letter and you stand there. When the train pulls up – your carriage will be in front of you!

ON THE TRAIN

Once on the train, there are luggage compartments at the ends of the carriages. You can jam your backpack, suitcase, bike, pusher, whatever you have, in these areas. Now I got on midway through a journey, so they were pretty full. Imagine 2 kids, a pusher and a massive backpack trying to get on a train so full it had people standing in the luggage area. It took me 10 mins to get my bags sorted out (My train bag was stuffed in my backpack) Little Lottie sat on the knee of a lovely lady who was sitting in the luggage area. In the meantime Miss Matilda has gone to find our seat, so I have had to fetch her. Eventually I take the kids to find our seat. The train was full and people were sitting in our seats. Naturally I assume I have gotten on the wrong carriage, or the seats have been double booked. So I head back to the luggage area, where after a brief conversation with the 2 people there and then a slightly English speaking man from inside the carriage who came out to help, they told me very confidently they were my seats and I just had to go and tell them. After much deliberation they decided my French wasn’t up to the challenge or my attitude I expect, and they went and got an SNCF worker to do my dirty work for me. So hey presto, we had 2 seats! About 15 mins later we had to get up to get ready to get off again…..so really I don’t think it was worth it……lol When getting off of the train, they are up and ready to get off well before the stop. The train to Lyon saw people with their luggage at least 10 mins before pulling into the station.

ANNECY

Annecy (http://www.google.fr/search?q=annecy&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&hl=fr&tab=wi&biw=1280&bih=653) is one of the most beautiful towns I have ever seen. We stayed at Hotel du Nord http://www.annecy-hotel-du-nord.com/ which I highly recommend. The staff are extremely friendly, the rooms very comfortable and very reasonably priced. The hotel was a short walk to the old town which is known as “Venice of the Alps.” There are canals flowing through the town with flowers everywhere. There are white swans and ducks swimming gracefully through the water and do not hassle the people for food. Cafes and restaurants line the canals as they are so picturesque. There is no smell – unlike Venice I am told. The streets are cobbled and narrow and the wares from the shops spill out onto the street. It is mainly a pedestrian area, but you will get the odd motorbike/scooter whip through.

Across the road from the old town is a beautiful clear lake. The lake is surrounded by little villages and mountains. At night you can see the lights twinkling and the waterslide at one of the caravan parks is all lit up. There are fountains in the lake that have feature lighting at night as well.  The lake is a hive of activity with boats of all kinds including peddleboats. The peddleboats have deck chairs on them and even a slippery dip.  There were plenty on the water and plenty of people draped all over them sunbathing.

Actually there were people sunbathing everywhere. I saw about 3 hats and most people were in bikinis or just shorts. Even a school excursion pretty much had the class laying on the grass in bikinis – they can’t of been much older then 14. I didn’t see them do anything else the whole time I was there! Lots of icecream stands. Italy is pretty close so artisan icecream is pretty big in this area. We went for a walk to the lake at night, we saw party lights and salsa music coming from the park so we went to have a look. There was a dance floor set up and there were people dancing everywhere. Remember Dirty Dancing, well the Hairmeister commented he felt like he had just walked in carrying a watermelon…..lol It was a balmy evening, the music was great, the kids danced their little legs off. It was beautiful!

The food in Annecy was the best I have had so far. True the regional dishes are based on cheese instead of parts of animals we didn’t know existed and you all know what a cheese fan I am. Switzerland is also very close, so the dishes do have an Alpine feel to them. Fondue is a big one and most restaurants have some kind of fondue. I was really looking forward to it, but then discovered that you needed 2 people to do fondue. So I had to settle for a wheel of cheese, heated so the cheese on the inside melted and I had a plate of charcuterie, pickles, potatos etc to dip into the cheese.

  Very tasty, but very filling. Being a cheese AND  a dessert person, I managed to find room for dessert. I ordered meringue, hot chocolate concoction. It sounded elegant, quite small and tasty. No dramas I thought, I can still feel my blood flowing it should be ok.

I certainly wasn’t expecting this heart attack on a plate…….

I barely touched it. Under those mounds of cream is balls of ice cream. On top is a meringue. I was very disappointed, they killed a very good concept of a dessert. I have never ever seen such excessive use of cream before. All I could think was why? Why waste ingredients and why waste food by putting so much on there….. the ice cream was good, but the meringue was rock solid.  Not a great dessert…..

That night we went to a restaurant that had very good food. I had a rockmelon gazpacho to begin and a one person fondue for dinner. My original plan was to have salad and then I decided I would regret it forever if I didn’t have the one dish I had been looking forward to.

So a 1 person fondue it was. It would have been great if it was a one person fondue as advertised. I reckon there was enough there to feed 4 as a main. Needless to say, I barely dented it….. or the enormous bowl of bread that came with it to dip.

Now I know I was aiming for snow……I knew Annecy wouldn’t have it and the temperature was 35 on the first day, but 24 on the second. Perfect. It was great the rest of the time we were there. I knew if I wanted snow I need to go higher and deeper again into the Alps. I had to head towards Chamonix. Skiing capital of the French Alps. (well in winter….) In Chamonix there are glaciers, ice caves and snow on the peaks. I packed my little backpack and spoke to the hotel owner about my plan. He thought it was a great idea and sent me to the tourist info building to get maps. I walked all the way there (15 mins) only for them to tellme they had a map of how to get to the Annecy train station of which my hotel is a 2 min walk from – 100 m down the road. I traipsed back and it was now 2:00. ( I had spent the morning at a market) Now I was under the impression that Chamonix was 1 hour away. At the train station I was informed it was closer to 2 hours and when I checked the timetable, discovered it was closer to 2.5 hours.  The next train left at 3……… so that meant I was not going to arrive until 5:30pm and the last train back left at 6…….. my snow plan was melting before me……….instead I caught the train to a random village 1/2 an hour away because Miss Matilda was desperate to get on a train. It was great – a lovely trip and at the station there was a bar, complete with train playground! So while the kids played, I had a glass of Rose in the shade! A lovely afternoon in the end! In the morning, we went to the food market. Theyhad everything – fish, bowls of spices, fruit and veg, bread, cheese, charcuterie, wine – we picked a few things and had a picnic by the lake. I discovered Comte cheese – it tastes like flowers and grass. Amazing. No comte cheese I have had has tasted like that. I also bought some morbier cheese – a regional cheese with ash running through the centre. Very creamy and nutty. The other was a light goats cheese. It had a texture a bit like an aero bar…… lovely.

au revoir!

xxx

Apologies…..

I apologise that it has taken so long for an update. Our internet reception has become decidedly sketchy and that combined with recovering children has meant a long gap between posts. I will attempt to update daily and we should have better reception next week once we move down to a different house in the village!

So, since the time I spoke to you last the kids have recovered and our trip has been extended by 2 weeks. This caused considerable stress with trying to change our flights given that it is the high season and most flights are booked out! It is this that brings me to a very important point! ALWAYS BOOK A FLEXI TICKET. ALWAYS.  Booking this has allowed us to change our flight for a mere $80 per person. Very very reasonable I thought. Especially given that we paid $4500 Australian dollars to get here return and if we try to book a flight now its approx $5500 one way to get back! So can’t stress it enough. FLEXI FLEXI FLEXI!

We have visited a few places so I will share some pics.

The first is Le Palais Ideal. (the Ideal Palace)

Essentially, a bored postman decided to collect a rock every day on his round and he started building his perfect palace. A rock in the pocket turned into a bucket and then a wheelbarrow. It took him 33 years to build and is now considered a work of art. (which it is) It has also given us hope that we too, will achieve what we want with out place – even if we are 60 when its done! You can climb all over it, the kids had fun. It was small so not too tiring for the little ones. Very beautiful and highly recommended if in the area!

This is probably the first actual touristy thing that we did since arriving and touristy it was! On the path to this place the walkway is lined with shops and cafes selling souvenirs, roads and shops are named after the palace as well as some meals.  The joy of tourist areas are that the shops are open all day and you can eat whenever! We had a meal at  one of the little cafes. I chose “menu  regional.” I am very interested in regional cuisine and will take it as an option whenever I can. It began with an aperitif (well at least it would have if they had remembered to bring it out at the start instead of after the main meal……) it was a peach liqueur – a specialty of the region. This was followed by an enormous bowl of very very salty ravioli. (ravioli is very big down this way!) When I say salty, it was so salty I couldn’t eat it…. This was followed by a specialty of the ardeche, unsure of the name as it is called so many different things…..it is essentially various forms of meat in something similar to a terrine, wrapped in tripe, served with lettuce and a sauce. Now I realise that this would be unnappetising to some anyway. I knew roughly what I was getting so it wasn’t a surprise. Firstly it was massive……. it may have been ok as a thin sliver. Put your hand into a fist. It was a ball about that size….. Secondly it was so very salty once again. Not sure what was happening in the kitchen…….I have never tried such salty food before – even super salty chips weren’t as bad as these meals. Thirdly, the sauce had separated. Fourth…..it really was very meaty and I am not a big meat person at the best of times. I am a bit torn by my interest in regional cuisine and not actually liking the taste of meat….. We are in a very meaty area where everything is based on pork  or duck! If anything I am getting closer and closer to being vegetarian again as the thought of meat often makes me feel ill. (Especially last night when dh came home complete with a horse steak he accidently bought. Oh yes…he has every intention of having it for his dinner tonight…….) Anyway, all our meals were so salty they were pretty much inedible, so really it was a big downer as far as food is concerned.

The next day we hopped into our hire car again and gallvanted down to Nime. A Roman city down south complete with its own Colosseum. Quite amazing, we stood on the very top and looked over the city. They have festivals, events and bull fights in the arena still. Although I say bull fights I think most of them are much tamer. They tie a ribbon in between the horns and the …..I don’t know….. matador? has to try and get it off. Anyway, to get to your seat there is a maze of tunnels and staircases. each staircase comes out a different level. In the arena you can walk around the entire arena via the seating. We were sitting up the top waching the clouds roll in. Then came the rumbling of thunder and the flash of lightning. I decided to take the kids inside before the rain started while dh whizzed around the top of the arena. Getting into the arena was fine. It was easy. Walk along tunnel, go up the stairs, pop out into the sunshine, look at where you want to sit, walk towards it – and your done. Getting back is not quite so easy. Firstly there are doors and stairs everywhere. (at least they all point in the same direction!!) You have to keep going down levels, but you have no idea where you are in the grand scheme of things unless you go back out and look in the arena. Somehow I ended up underneath the area where I was going, on a ring road that circles the whole thing. It would be where the animals were bought in. I went back up some stairs and found myself in a tour group who were getting to peek in the gladiators quarters that were closed to the public. As much as I hoped I would blend in, I don’t think I was very successful. I had Little Lotties strapped to my back, I was wet from the rain, Miss Matilda was clutching my hand, soggy with her hair standing in every direction and we were in a tour group of very neat men in grey suits……. I figured we looked bedraggled enough so they wouldn’t be too cross. lol

I ducked under the rope and eventually found the Hairmeister and then we happened to meet his friend. We decided to have dinner together. (somehow forgetting the fact we were 3 hours from home and it was pouring) Here we discovered a big cultural difference between Australia and here. In Australia if you want to go out for dinner, if you head out anytime from 5:30 you are pretty much set. You will be able to eat anywhere pretty much with no difficulty. Here – nowhere opens until 7. Most places we tried we couldn’t even get a drink and it was not quite 6:30. So, pouring with rain – no umbrellas or wet weather gear and we are wandering the street trying to find somewhere to go.  Eventually we found a little place that was setting up for a salsa night! The food was good – although enormous. The people were lovely and we had the joys of watching people learning to salsa. Little Lottie was fascinated and kept trying to get in on the action – which they loved. It was also here that I realised I must be grasping the language. When I walked in, I was carrying Miss Matilda on the front and Little Lottie was on my back.  There were some people at a table and they were grinning at Miss Matilda as I walked past they saw Little Lottie as well and the woman remarked “she has TWO of them.” and she was smiling and trying to get their attention. Then I realised that the woman was speaking French – but I had automatically translated it into English without thinking. So I heard it in English, but she was speaking French. It was very bizzare…. nice though!

Around 9:30 that night we thought we should head home. (the excellent forward planners that we are!) It was still light – although wet. Once we were sorted, it was closer to 10 and getting dark. We were near the turnoff to the motorway and it started bucketing down so hard that we could not see in front of us. The sort of rain that the windscreen wipers aren’t fast enough. We couldn’t see the lines on the road. We then decided that it was probably just too dangerous to drive home in conditions like that. We opted to find a cheap motorway motel. A simple task you would think…….. did I mention it was a long weekend?

At 11:30 we got the last room in a clean, reasonably priced friendly motel, a best western I believe. I think we were on the other side of Nime by that stage……( we didn’t spend the whole time driving. we went very slow due to the weather and also stopped to buy food and had a break) The room was perfect, a double bed and 2 singles. A bathroom with shower, a tv. It was around 80 euros from memory. I swear a bed has never felt so good.

TOP TIP TRAVELLING WITH KIDS:

ALWAYS PACK PJS. I always do as I never know what we are doing. Very handy for night travel as they can sleep in the car and you don’t need to do anything when you get home.
(or motel)

The other brilliant thing about our new plan is that we were halfway to Carcassonne. One of the best preserved medieval castles in Europe. (Robin Hood Prince of Thieves was filmed there we discovered after.)

but thats a whole new post!!!

missing you!

au revoir!

xxx

The downside of travelling with kids……

I don’t want anyone to get me wrong when they read this post. I thoroughly enjoy travelling with my kids and they really are pretty good most of the time. Every now and then though…… some days are much harder then others.

Take last week for example…… Miss Matilda had her first proper tummy bug ever! 3 days of diahorrea and 2 days of projectile vomiting. She couldn’t keep anything down. The only problem was, she felt pretty good apart from being a little tired. So she would throw up and then ask for a bowl of muesli, then throw up because she couldn’t keep it down….  At home, this would not be an issue. Here…… a couple more areas of stress popped up. Firstly,  kids don’t have the best aim when vomiting. So we began with having to wash all of the sheets, bed protectors and quilt because naturally it went through every layer…… this meant in itself 3 days of washing/drying. Secondly we have 4 towels. Trying to make them last was a major task….. Thirdly, this all occurred on a day we needed to buy food. It was also pouring with rain outside. So in Australia, I would have either had food in the house or had the possibilty of rugging them up in the car and leaving them in it while I ran into the general store to buy something. I had no such option here. Basically we just had to have bread, muesli and eggs until dad got home after 7 with some other food. Nobody went hungry, there just wasn’t a lot of choice which is crap when you are feeling sick. Then of course she threw up on the lounge (regardless of the bucket being so close) so we had to wash cushions, blankets etc. (its a day bed covered in pillows and blankets….)  There is no dryer and it is hard to dry anything when it is pouring! Days like this are naturally rough anyway, but the extra stress of being in somebody elses house do just add to the strain!

Then of course, there are days like today……

Miss Matilda was better by last Thursday so we hired a car and went gallivanting around the countryside on the weekend. Little Lottie came down with it in the middle of dinner at a restaurant on the Sunday night – although not as bad. So after a couple of days rest at home, today was the first day we could venture out again with them both feeling up to scratch.

I didn’t plan anything major. A jaunt down to the patisserie and boucherie to pick up some picnic supplies and a little wander along the river. We picked up some delicious pastries and a pizza slice, then went to the boucherie and bought 4 tronshes de jambon blanc. (4 slices of ham) to go with our “flute”. (bread) We walked about 300 m down the road and sat in a grassy field to have our picnic. The girls decided they wanted it there rather then walking to the river. Plus it looked like it was going to pour….. From there it went downhill. Little Lottie was ready for a sleep, so I popped her in the backpack. Miss Matilda was already complaining her legs were tired and we hadn’t really even walked anywhere. She then started crying/yelling that she needed to go in the backpack and Little Lottie could walk. My back is  a little sore at the moment so there was no way I could carry them both that distance and then up the hill. So instead of my nice cruisy wander around I had to carry one and had the other crying because she wanted to go to sleep. (which she really did, she wasn’t just having a tantrum.) We ended up having to walk home again because Miss Matilda was in no position to  go for a longer walk and I was not going to be able to carry them both. I was extremely disappointed, cross and frustrated as I realised they weren’t ready yet as their energy levels are pretty low. Normally that walk is not a problem at all. So obviously she isn’t quite back up to speed.  Very frustrating for me as I know we are on limited time here and don’t want to waste it sitting in the house, but the kids have no comprehension of that.  We had a stilted walk down the main street, with Miss Matilda either refusing to walk or trying to walk behind me. She bawled (loudly) the entire way back to the village with me holding onto her outstretched arm. I tried lots of different things but found the only one was to promise I would carry her, but when we just got into the village, then just past the workmen, then when we reached the stairs. Eventually I carried her like a guitar a little way up the stairs to our house and she was quite happy with that.

We arrived home, with me ready to throttle the pair of them – only to discover one of them has turned off the fridge and everything has defrosted/melted. I had to throw away the meat for dinner, the frozen stuff – all the spare stuff we had bought.  This was closely followed by taking all of my washed clothes off the clothes horse and dumping them on the wet ground so they could use the clothes horse as a lion cage. My day was getting better and better…..

So people considering travelling with very dependent young children.  I haven’t written this to put you off. I have written it to let you know that the stuff that happens at home – happens on the road too. Your mindset plays a massive part in how you deal with it.

Firstly your expectations have to be realistic. Obviously mine were not today – although I hoped they were! Its important to not take it out on the kids – especially when you have put them in the position they are in.

Secondly, keep your day flexible so you can change it as you need. Instead of gallivanting around the river, we came home. The kids (eventually) went to sleep and soon I will take them to the playground before dinner. Tomorrow, I will try again or maybe we will catch a train somewhere. (so they don’t have to walk much)

Thirdly, if you can find something to use to carry both or all kids – it might be handy. If I had a small compact pusher it may have allowed me to do more. As it currently stands, I only have an enormous one available and it doesn’t fit on the footpaths….. its not really designed for pushers here but some of the back roads may have been ok.

Fourth, even though we are not here forever – we can always come back. I spent the afternoon going through brochures and finding new places we can visit when the kids are better.

Basically, you can plan the greatest day ever – but if they aren’t up for it, they aren’t up for it. You just need to be flexible or have ways to get around the problems that might arise. If I had 2 slings instead of 1 or a pusher and a sling or 2 people – it would have been fine.

Just be flexible and stay positive!

………………………………now where is the wine……………….