Herpes & Half Term

Just returned from a fantastic week away in the Charente area. We stayed in a town called, wait for this…..Herpes!! Very unfortunate name, but a sweet small village with nothing in it bar a ‘fontaine d’Herpes’ (which was basically an old well) and the cutest donkeys ever, even white ones which I’d never seen before. There was, however, a stunning chateau in the next village which Ruby was convinced Sleeping Beauty lives in, so we enjoyed walking around that. It was a great week of girly giggles, beaucoup de champagne, sloe gin, and pineau (the local drink), daily visits from the friendly ghost in the big farmhouse, lots of jigging to Justin Timberlake, gruelling Table Tennis & Boule competitions, and of course the infamous Shark Bingo games which Ruby is the all time champion. We were a bit disappointed not being able to use the stunning pool and patio area, although us girls made our own ‘sunroom’ of sorts to get a bit of a tan.

So, apart from Herpes, we visited La Rochelle and Cognac, both quaint places in their own ways. We look forward to our next trip to the Loire Valley in May when we visit our (rented) vineyard in the village of Sancerre. Well, it’s actually only a row of vines, but we get to buy 4 cases of Sancerre at a very discounted rate, hopefully they’ll last us through the summer!

Struggling through this 2nd week of half term. Keeping the kids busy in the rain when I’m detoxing isn’t much fun, I feel like I’m shouting at them constantly. Mostly it’s when we’re out in public and I’m with them on my own in all the ‘danger zones’ whilst they’re still in fairy la la land. Keeping them safe is hard work. Also, the weather’s very unpredictable so we’ve been caught in it a few times. As the few friends we have here have jetted off to South Africa, or Austria, or Courcheval, we only have the memories of Herpes to get us through til school starts next week (and there were more than enough laughs to do that – berets, moustaches, and naked bottoms behind French aprons, that’s all I’m going to say!)

This is a funny story told to me by a friend who lives on a very expensive street near the Eiffel Tower, so picturesque it is often used for filming. In the gorgeous building next to her there’s a new tenant, ‘Bongo from the Congo’ her husband tells her. In reality it is the President of the Republic of Congo and his last name is Bongo!!! Apparently the Sultan hosts the most amazing parties with rows of Bentleys and Mercedes double parked outside and throngs of woman coming and going, hmm, maybe we’ll change neighbourhoods!
After leaving the amazing Cineaqua Aquarium in Trocadero today we have a bit of a trek home with two metro changes. Ruby promptly falls asleep wearing her green fish sunglasses and I am left carrying her up and down flights of stairs avec school bags, etc.. Out of 6 flights 1 person helped me, which I think is probably about the correct statistic over here. There is one dog for every 6 people, and one helpful human out of every 6 Parisians!
Cineaqua however is an unbelievably chic aquarium. A combined cinema and aquarium there is one huge central tank surrounded by 3 different cinema screens and one bar area where you can sip champagne whilst listening to live singing and piano, either watching the screen or the amazing wall of water in front of you. Again, only in Paris!!

Stay tuned for the latest in ‘As The World of Paris Turns’. Will Bongo finally get bonked? Will the bruises on Tom’s bottom disappear if he finally masters the art of blading? Will Tracey buckle under the pressure and get le petit chien accessory for her handbag?

Moulin Rouge, Montmartre, and Monceau

For my birthday we went to see the ‘Feerie’ show at Moulin Rouge in the evening, finally!!! It was a great spectacle despite the cheesy glitz. The flashy costumes, boobs and cheeks on show were enough to keep Tom enthralled for 2 hours, never seen him so quietly fixated on a rugby game as he was there. Personally I thought the dancing was mediocre and the interval acts stole the show; acrobats balancing horizontally head to head and an amazing juggler who juggled with his throat! What a life those girls must have. Needless to say, Tom’s mouth was ajar the whole time, had to pick his jaw up the floor as we left.

Sunday not so successful with tantrums from both children and parents and then hastened by cold wet weather. We went off to Parc Monceau in the 8th, a small version of Stourhead with hundreds of runners and a playground. Beautiful people in beautiful surroundings, everywhere you go in Paris, do they always have to be so perfectly turned out with perfectly behaved children?? Just imagining all the effort they go to everyday to make themselves and their children look so stunning wears me out.

Attempt to go up to Montmartre after the Parc which was a big mistake. The vernacular was broken down so Tom lifted Ruby asleep in her pram hundreds of stairs up to Sacre Coeur, once we got up there, there was a barrage of black men almost barricading the streets trying to sell you things. One man was quite abusive, going for all the young girls by grabbing their arms and not taking NO for an answer. It was very disturbing until a whistle blew and a security guard approached him. Once we got to the top we all needed to warm up and had the most atrociously expensive hot chocolates in the square whilst watching the artists, when the sugar hit caused Sam to go into hyper mode amongst the tourist couples trying to have a quiet coffee. Then the weather turned, easels went flying and it was time for the 10 minute trek in the rain to the bus for our 45 minute journey home to be snivelled at even more by its passengers because our children were chatting happily on the bus, how dare there be happy children for they should be seen looking pretty and not heard in this city.

Bonne Annee!!

After a great trip home for the holidays, we have returned to Paris with some trepidation to what it will bring us in 2007. We were pleasantly surprised and relieved to have the kids quite happy to come back, and after a hellish first day back to school they’ve adapted again quite quickly.

New Year and all that so we’ve decided to take up a new family sport – rollerblading. Took Tom some convincing but he bought a pair too and off we went to the Tuileries for a practise skate. It was quite a sight – Sam in his new shark goggles and Ruby in pink ones riding their scooters around whilst their parents were stumbling along on their skates (well, one of us was gliding quite smoothly actually). The sight of Tom falling on his arse made it all worth it.

So nice to be back on the number 80 bus, as joyful as ever with Sam trying to suffocate Ruby in her pram en route or making eerie orca noises with his stuffed killer whale, to the so obvious un-delight of the Parisians. They really do need to lighten up.

Shopping with chiens

Late night Christmas shopping at Le Bon Marche proved to be quite the experience. Firstly, you are greeted by angels and black tie waiters serving glasses of champagne, then you are free to wander at your leisure whilst listening to the live operatic orchestra in the background.

You are walking with many furry coat muffed ladies carrying their furry dogs with their own furry coats on too, either in handbags or on a leash. A road rage fight even broke out on the 2nd floor in Sonia Rykel between les chiens, I had to laugh out loud at these minute dogs yapping at each other whilst their owners obliviously shopped for designer clothes.

Too enamoured to do any real shopping, I continued to accept the free champagne and walked around in a slight daze, soaking up the atmosphere. After my third glass I felt a bit tipsy and made my way to Le Grand Epicerie to find something to soak up the booze with. As I attempted to go up the escalator a security guard stopped me with a ‘—Non---’. About to relinquish my champagne, I thought (obviously not allowed to drink and ride escalators here I’m thinking, could be dangerous), he said ‘Descende’, and I realised I was trying to go ‘up’ the ‘down’ escalator! Giggling away I said ‘merci’ and was just so pleased I was allowed to finish off my third glass. Shopping with champagne, dogs, and an orchestra…..only in Paris!

One of my best nights here so far.

Cars, Cleaners, and Christmas

La nouvelle voiture a arrive!

Even though we’re terrified to drive it, the car is lovely, particularly when it’s stationary! It is parked a mere 5 minute walk away (why did I ever complain about parking on Trowbridge Road???) in a spot so tight with it takes me at least 10 minutes to park it, putting both side mirrors in to avoid contact. It is lovely, but to be used sparingly.

The first time driving it on my own to collect Sam from school I was stopped by the police. I was 5 minutes into the drive, just starting to feel confident, gearing up for the big roundabout at Cambronne and Boulevard de Grenelle, and voila! I couldn’t believe I’d done something wrong so soon (yet almost everything you do in this country is ‘wrong’). The policeman asks for the car’s papers and licence and quickly worked out I was not French. I did however manage to splutter out, ‘C’est la premiere fois je conduit a Paris!’ He was very sympathetic to this nervous, foreign mother and though spoke no English, attempted to explain why I was being stopped. He used the verb 'voler' which means both to steal and to fly, though I was only aware of the latter definition. Though confused, I assumed he thought I was 'flying' too fast and I was about to be slapped with a speeding ticket, but luckily he was just checking ownership for stolen cars. Sympathetically, he stopped traffic to let me back in. Needless to say it threw me for the rest of the journey but I managed to get there in one piece.
Sam’s comment at the end of journey, après police and 10 minute parking episode summed it up, ‘Mom, if we took the metro we would have been home by now!’ Cheeky monkey.

La femme de ménage a arrive aussi!

Ok, I have to put my hand up and admit it now, we finally gave in and got a cleaner (which seems to be the norm in poncy Paris). Very sweet but far too subservient (yes madame, whatever you want madame), I’m still struggling with the whole concept, cleaning before she gets here or alongside her, but the 3 hours she’s here does make a difference as I'm fed up with ironing endlessly crispy clothes, I'm in Paris for goodness sake, there is more fun to be had (all the women nodding their heads in agreement, all the men shaking their heads I have 3 words for you - CRAZY HORSE SALOON - do you think those girls spend all their free time cleaning???? J'en sais foutrement rien!!).

Paris is stunning at Christmas time. They really go for it far more than I ever expected, the decorations and lights are beautiful. There's queues outside the big department stores because the window displays are so fantastic, it's a tradition for the Parisian children to go and see them. They’ve even made our favourite Boulangerie into an igloo on the inside and out, complete with polar bears.

A lovely place to spend Christmas, but we're off to the UK.

Home Sweet Home....or is it???

Funnily enough, there is not a direct translation for this phrase in French. Although I’m sure the French feel the same way about their abodes, it is strange for us now living in neutral, foreign territory.

After an absolutely fabulous girly trip to New York (breakfast in Paris, lunch in London, dinner in NY!), it was back to Paris, back to reality. Weird coming back to this city, instead of England…. instead of Canada!! Home is becoming an ever elusive place for me, but it certainly didn’t feel like I was coming ‘home’ from NY, not been here long enough for that, although not sure if here will ever feel 'homely'
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Sam also made the acute observation that Paris and this flat feels more like a hotel than home, not like his cosy house back in England, and the one downfall of living in a furnished flat.

Sam is really getting fed up with all the busy people in Paris. He comments on the grumpy people in the morning and we tell him to just smile at them. Once on the packed bus he couldn’t get a seat and we were moving at a snail’s pace behind a rubbish truck. He said loudly and in a very adult like manner, ‘now there’s more bloody people getting on this bus, and I never want to be a bin man!!’ Whew, what a relief!

And to lay the complete guilt trip on, Sam is also complaining of being lonely, outside of school. When I suggested playing with some of the other kids at the park I can already sense his unease and frustration, ‘but they speak french, don’t know what they’re saying, don’t know what they’re playing’, he says. It's a growing experience I keep reminding myself.

On the bright side, Funky Monkey has now taken a shine to Sam, and being that her stunning mother was a previous cover girl model Tom’s encouraging him of course.

Although the kids are getting more streetsmart, they are also still a bit too free of inhibitions and completely spatially unaware. This city is just too busy, too full of people, everywhere and all the time, and they still haven’t realised they’ve got to share the road/sidewalk with them. Numerous times they’ve been bowled over and nearly knocked down by rushed business suits who pat (or grab) their heads, trying to be nice but really just preventing their sticky faces from touching their Prada suits. Then of course you get the odd tourist who is so enamoured with the scenery that they just completely trip over Ruby doing pirohuettes in front of Notre Dame or Sam sitting in the middle of le trottier refusing to walk any further………such fun.

There are of course still some magical moments when it all feels like a dream and we can’t believe we’re here. However, the consistent reality of life in a big city with small children, few friends and language problems is not as glamorous as it seems, but always entertaining not to mention character building!