Saturday, 16 December 2017

I can get satisfaction

 Not quite as snowy but still magical with the twinkle of the Christmas lights.

It was a last minute decision to go up to the market in Thônes. We didn't stop to have breakfast at home as the BMW IBU WORLD CUP BIATHLON is taking place at Le Grand Bornand this weekend in excellent snow and we knew that this would mean heavy traffic on top of the general Saturday ski crowds; so best to be away early in an attempt to get a jump on everyone else.

Talloires is at lake level and snow had fallen here this morning, but it was colder with a much thicker cover just up the hill. Despite the passage of the snow plough, roads were icy and as recently arrived left-hand drivers, we took our time winding up through Bluffy and beyond.

On the way to the market
Due to the snow, the market was smaller than on a regular Saturday in Thônes, and whilst we would normally shop and then stop, today we opted for breakfast first. Tempted to return to a familiar café, we nonetheless headed into an unassuming little place facing the church. The slightly overdone wood and check Savoyard mountain decoration helped us feel at home straight away.  Unsurprisingly (you are in France, Madame), there were no croque-monsieur available despite the 'Croque-monsieur à toute heure' sign, but the coffee and croissant were fine substitutes, the service was friendly and the snow flakes thick and luscious outside. We were the only guests, but the barkeeper, deep in conversation with a friend, headed towards the door to continue talking out of earshot. Clearly still worried about our possible indiscretion, the ladies headed outside to stand in the snow and continue conspiratorially.

With the arrival of another gentleman, it was back to business. Madame la serveuse realised at this point that the music had stopped. Was Monsieur there to sing for her, she called out, laughingly.
Tomme de Savoie


I was too far away to attempt to eavesdrop on this conversation, and too shy to zoom in and get a clear photo, but would have loved to be a part of this tête-à-tête (which then technically would no longer have been a tête-à-tête).



Back in Talloires with blue skies trying to wipe the grey slate clean.

A perfect culmination to a market visit is displaying our produce and making our lunch selection.
Personally, no fancy restaurant necessary, I can get my satisfaction with what you see below. 

PS If you are thinking that there is a lot of cheese on this lunch table, you'd be right. Promise that the wheel of tomme fermière, the log of goats' cheese and the two wide wedges of Comté and Beaufort made it through more than just lunchtime.

Soup, bread, cheese and ham

As always,  if you would like to read more of our family story, 'But you are in France, Madame', here is the Amazon link for a Kindle copy.
If you would prefer a print copy, an Affiliate link is to be found in Kristin Espinasse's French word-a-day blog. A purchase here costs no more and would be so very much appreciated by us both.

Tuesday, 12 December 2017

Bonne journée les enfants

"Bonne journée les enfants..."

Still struggling with jet-lag, I pretended to sleep until 6 am. The rest of my family had given up at various stages between 2 and 5.30 am, so the kitchen was a hive of activity when I came downstairs. On the day's agenda was a visit to the bakery, a trip to find our Christmas tree and back home to wait for the fuel delivery man. First things first, though, we all needed to do numerous tours of all windows to see if the snow might make its reappearance from this window...or that one...or the one at the end of the hallway.

No snow, so as soon as the boulangerie was open, my son and I stepped out our front door and into the path of an elderly gentleman, who was coming towards us leaning on his cane. We smiled and, not fighting my irrepressible need to talk to everyone in town, I mentioned that we were waiting for the snow and were a little disappointed that it hadn't fallen overnight. He smiled and said that he was happy when it fell up high, but didn't mind if it didn't fall down low, before adding that he used to think the same way as us when he was young ... a long time ago. There was a slight pause before, with a very sweet "Bonne journée les enfants", he gave us permission to move on more quickly.

I laughed to myself, and then again out loud with my son, when I was out of earshot. What a great start to the day and how special to feel happily cradled in his fatherly arms.

Christmas-tree choosing was next on our list. A tall beauty, a poinsettia and another berry plant whom I can tell you will survive outdoors (I asked) came home with us, but not before we had witnessed the marvels of the tree bagging machine (above), which works  a bit like a sausage casing does and had several 'bonjour', 're-bonjour', 'au revoir' and 'bonne journeé' with the very charming men at the nursery.

Homewards, and to my next appointment with the smartly booted fuel driver. In the past, I have looked forward to my annual meetings with Robert and his fascinating footwear and today was no different. Before shaking my hand very warmly, he pointed to his boots as a sweet reminder that he, his tartans and I go way back. But, this year will be our last like this; at least, no longer will we be meeting in the semi-obscurity of our cellar. Come June, he will be doing away with his big truck and early morning starts in favour of mountain skiing and cycling. I wished him well and reflected that, thanks to my many friendly encounters,  it had indeed been a 'bonne journée'.

Friday, 8 December 2017

Does France still want me...or how does one leave behind a prosthetic leg?

A quick warning before reading - this is not one of my upbeat posts...and hoping that this very cute picture of our Poppy, the day that we brought her home 4 years ago, will have a calming effect!

Furthermore, let me discourage any of you who are about to travel internationally to avoid Etihad at all costs.

The short of it is that I have the time to write a blog in the food court at Abu Dhabi airport. I should have been in France nearly 24 hours ago and I'm still only half way there... let's rush through the details - 24-hour delay in Sydney, re-routed to Kuala Lumpur, delayed on plane there for 2 and a half hours; arriving in Abu Dhabi, missed ongoing connection to Geneva and now waiting for 5 hours in the food court before being re-routed to London, another wait and then a flight to Geneva where we will have missed cut-off time to pick up our car for the second day in a row. I'm hoping that my family will continue to support me on this French affair.

Now, what's with the prosthetic leg?
In our haste to sort out our sorry journey, my husband left his belt on the security conveyor belt here. It never ceases to amaze us that we have to pretty much strip (boots, jackets, belts) to go through security in Abu Dhabi and yet the screen watchers themselves seem to fixate on everything but the screen. But, as he had time (lots of time) to return to the security area, he was shown to the lost and found. His belt was there along with an impressive array of others ...and a prosthetic leg. Which begs the question; how does one walk off without it?

We have learnt a new Arabic word though  حزام، زنار, which we believe is pronounced 'hizam' and might help you next time you leave your belt behind in Abu Dhabi.

PS Note to self - perhaps it's easier to find the simple positives as per my son relishing his burger despite the delays.

As always,  if you would like to read more of our family story, 'But you are in France, Madame', here is the Amazon link for a Kindle copy.
If you would prefer a print copy, an Affiliate link is to be found in Kristin Espinasse's French word-a-day blog. A purchase here costs no more and would be so very much appreciated by us both.

Tuesday, 5 December 2017

My Johnny story

"On a tous en nous quelque chose de Johnny"

"We all have a bit of Johnny in us..." wrote Emmanuel Macron this morning after learning of the death of French rock star Johnny Hallyday.

Even me, from a country far, far away.

I encountered Johnny on my first visit to France as a young, impressionable assistante d'anglais. Everything in that year was new, challenging, exciting and terrifying in equal measures. With no money to my name, buying CDs was out of the question, but I was aware of this icon of French music. I had no real idea whether I was supposed to admire him or not, but listen I did.

My favourite song was Laura, written for his daughter in 1986.

In 2009, it was the turn of my husband, and my three children to return to France with me and prior to our departure from Australia, I introduced them to Johnny.

Today, like so many, I react with sadness and say chapeau Johnny.

PS Johnny himself used these words in relation to Jacques Chirac in 1988. A neat way for Macron to politically salute Monsieur Hallyday.

Tuesday, 21 November 2017

Then and Now - Cycling France in 1957

Below, the original article that I wrote after a lovely, lengthy email communication with 82 year-old British cyclist, Peter Newman. As you will read, Peter and three mates did a cycling tour of their own in 1957, which crossed paths with the actual Tour de France. They had none of today's tools to assist with their preparation or their day-to-day comfort, making what they did a real exploit in my mind. Read on to discover more, or if it is easier to read the web version;  here it is - web article in France Today

Thank-you to Peter for his indulgence with the clarification of details and the time that he gave to answering my many emails. It was lovely to get to know him over the miles.

As always,  if you would like to read more of our family story, 'But you are in France, Madame', here is the Amazon link for a Kindle copy.
If you would prefer a print copy, an Affiliate link is to be found in Kristin Espinasse's French word-a-day blog. A purchase here costs no more and would be so very much appreciated by us both.