So I've added a little "My Blog List" box you will find to your right, err, on the right of the page that is, not literally on your right as that would break all kinds of space-time-continuum-laws of physics-time travel- X files rules.
Now is probably a good time to mention that M and I have recently gotten into the TV show Fringe which (A) stars Joshua Jackson aka Pacey Witter, my other boyfriend and (B) is kinda sci-fi. Sorry in advance.
Anywhoodle, these are blogs that I like to read.
There are blogs by some Pembroke peeps I know:
The lovely Georgia Richmond, whose blogs are always amusing, entertaining and honest AND her daughter Satine is too precious for words.
Heather Anders, who writes so well and is incredibly funny and takes great photos and has a scrumptious family and lives in London.
Mezzle Lamb, direct from Edinburgh and filled with deliciousness (quite literally, her last two posts have been recipes - yum)
And blogs by amazing people who I kinda adore, mostly food blogs (and, btw, food blogs are SOOO the new cookbooks FYI) eww, I just went all cyber speak.
Next thing you know I'll be calling myself iBec 2.0. or some such stupidity. LOL.
Orangette is my favourite but she has been kind of quiet of late. I just adore trawling through these blogs (yeah, I have too muh spare time, wanna fight about it!?!) there are hundreds of wicked recipes and the photography on most of them (Cannelle et Vanille in particular!) is just sublime.
If you have a moment - go have a sneaky peak. You won't regret it.
Wow, I'm a food-blog pimp.
And if you haven't discovered the girls from GoFugYourself or the very popular FML then....we'll frankly you must have been living under a rock. Off you go. Thank your Aunty Bec later for the giggles and guffaws.
Guffaws is a weird word.
A bientot!
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Cats, Car rides and courses
Hello readers,
Firstly, you might notice that I've had a little play with the layout. I like to stay fresh and relevant ya'll!
Secondly, The result of my language testing-bizzo is that I get 100 hours of FREE french lessons every afternoon (except Wednesdays) 2.00 - 5.00. Cool huh?!?! Where was that 8 months ago though I wonder when I was forking out big bucks to go to the college?? Anywhoodle, no need to be bitter as I'm so glad I went to the college earlier in the year, I may have completely forgotten pretty much everything I learnt (pronouns and the subjunctive tense can bite me) but I made such nice friends who I still keep in touch with so...having these freebie lessons is just a huge bonus.
So I went to my first class and....let's just say this will be interesting. The course is "mixed ability" which is coolio, except that everyone else in the class seems to speak pretty much completely fluent french (eeek), and yet they spent the entire lesson writing out etre in the present tense and reflexive verbs. Whuzza? Huh? The teacher gave me a series of tests (more butchering of the language in written exercises) and said that I'm far more advanced than the others......wha.....??? Me no speak-y good! Wha? Hopefully I can ask for oral and listening activities as, along with conversational practice, that's what I really need.
Anywho, not looking this gift cheval in the bouche. hee hee hee.
So we got up at the crack of dawn to watch the 'cracker' of a Grand Final. Whee, the jokes just keep on coming today.
We were going to go to Nice to watch it at the pub or the Kookaburra Bar (yes, that's its real name) but that required getting up even earlier so, we 'canned' that notion, an stayed in Cannes. Ok, I'll stop now I promise.
Marie came over too and we watched it live, supported ably by a HUGE pot of coffee, bacon and egg sangas and, for the other two brave souls, a couple of beers. This is a photo taken from our balcony at half time. Yes, the sun is only just coming up. erk.
(Yes, he is wearing his Crows gurnsey. Yes, he knew they weren't one of the teams. Marie wore Saints colours and I wore Cats. M likes to be different apparently......)
I was the sole Cats supporter (more out of loyalty to Jaime and the desire to one day have my way with Jimmy Bartel than anything else) out of the three of us and it got TENSE in the dying minutes. I giggled when I received a text from Jaime later that day saying that she'd been reduced to going for a walk around the block in the last quarter. Too funny. A great game, so close. I felt so sorry for the Saints players though, such a weight of history on their shoulders and they looked positively gutted. Plus, I'm a sook and always think it's sad when big, tough footy players cry. Not Riewoldt though, he's a sissy.
After the game M had to head in to work.....on a Saturday....again....after working til 10.00pm most nights. Boo. But the big bid finishes this week so I may actually get to see him again. Yay! As French law states that he couldn't work on the Sunday as he'd worked the Saturday (bless their little socialist souls) he suggested we go for a bit of a drive and find a random spot to have lunch, so we did.
We visited a little town called Tanneron, which is up behind Mandelieu - west of where we are. A lovely, very french lunch and a bit of a walk around followed by a scenic drive home. Bliss.
Firstly, you might notice that I've had a little play with the layout. I like to stay fresh and relevant ya'll!
Secondly, The result of my language testing-bizzo is that I get 100 hours of FREE french lessons every afternoon (except Wednesdays) 2.00 - 5.00. Cool huh?!?! Where was that 8 months ago though I wonder when I was forking out big bucks to go to the college?? Anywhoodle, no need to be bitter as I'm so glad I went to the college earlier in the year, I may have completely forgotten pretty much everything I learnt (pronouns and the subjunctive tense can bite me) but I made such nice friends who I still keep in touch with so...having these freebie lessons is just a huge bonus.
So I went to my first class and....let's just say this will be interesting. The course is "mixed ability" which is coolio, except that everyone else in the class seems to speak pretty much completely fluent french (eeek), and yet they spent the entire lesson writing out etre in the present tense and reflexive verbs. Whuzza? Huh? The teacher gave me a series of tests (more butchering of the language in written exercises) and said that I'm far more advanced than the others......wha.....??? Me no speak-y good! Wha? Hopefully I can ask for oral and listening activities as, along with conversational practice, that's what I really need.
Anywho, not looking this gift cheval in the bouche. hee hee hee.
So we got up at the crack of dawn to watch the 'cracker' of a Grand Final. Whee, the jokes just keep on coming today.
We were going to go to Nice to watch it at the pub or the Kookaburra Bar (yes, that's its real name) but that required getting up even earlier so, we 'canned' that notion, an stayed in Cannes. Ok, I'll stop now I promise.
Marie came over too and we watched it live, supported ably by a HUGE pot of coffee, bacon and egg sangas and, for the other two brave souls, a couple of beers. This is a photo taken from our balcony at half time. Yes, the sun is only just coming up. erk.
(Yes, he is wearing his Crows gurnsey. Yes, he knew they weren't one of the teams. Marie wore Saints colours and I wore Cats. M likes to be different apparently......)I was the sole Cats supporter (more out of loyalty to Jaime and the desire to one day have my way with Jimmy Bartel than anything else) out of the three of us and it got TENSE in the dying minutes. I giggled when I received a text from Jaime later that day saying that she'd been reduced to going for a walk around the block in the last quarter. Too funny. A great game, so close. I felt so sorry for the Saints players though, such a weight of history on their shoulders and they looked positively gutted. Plus, I'm a sook and always think it's sad when big, tough footy players cry. Not Riewoldt though, he's a sissy.
After the game M had to head in to work.....on a Saturday....again....after working til 10.00pm most nights. Boo. But the big bid finishes this week so I may actually get to see him again. Yay! As French law states that he couldn't work on the Sunday as he'd worked the Saturday (bless their little socialist souls) he suggested we go for a bit of a drive and find a random spot to have lunch, so we did.
We visited a little town called Tanneron, which is up behind Mandelieu - west of where we are. A lovely, very french lunch and a bit of a walk around followed by a scenic drive home. Bliss.
It's on days like this I am very pleased I live in France. We are so lucky.
Menton with Marie
Last Thursday I had the language test at INFREP - the end result of the mysterious phone conversation and misinterpreted directions. All went well, I wrote several pages of entirely dubious franglais and was told by the lady that my comprehension is very good but my written and spoken is - not so much goodness. Which I knew. Then they faffed about for TWO HOURS and basically repeated the same information over and over, went out for cigarette breaks and eventually let us all go. Ah, the French. Couldn't organise their way out of a wet paper bag.
So after this I went and met up with Marie and we headed off to Menton, which is just past Monaco, right on the Italian border. The train ride is long but, unsurprisingly, we managed to chat non-stop the whole way there! A lovely lunch on the waterfront and then an afternoon of wandering around in the delightful sunshine. Menton is really pretty, and feels a lot less touristy than Cannes/Antibes/Monaco etc. We both bought a few bits and pieces, I purchased a wicked blue and white old school tablecloth. Which is probably exciting only if you're me and get worked up over blue and white Italian Spode style patterns whoo hoo!! I'm such a nerd.
We had a fabulous time and Menton has certainly been added to my "Places to take people to when visiting" list. Some pretty piccies.
So after this I went and met up with Marie and we headed off to Menton, which is just past Monaco, right on the Italian border. The train ride is long but, unsurprisingly, we managed to chat non-stop the whole way there! A lovely lunch on the waterfront and then an afternoon of wandering around in the delightful sunshine. Menton is really pretty, and feels a lot less touristy than Cannes/Antibes/Monaco etc. We both bought a few bits and pieces, I purchased a wicked blue and white old school tablecloth. Which is probably exciting only if you're me and get worked up over blue and white Italian Spode style patterns whoo hoo!! I'm such a nerd.
We had a fabulous time and Menton has certainly been added to my "Places to take people to when visiting" list. Some pretty piccies.
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
My happiness
Books make me happy.
The dream house of my fictional future where we are über wealthy will have huge open fireplaces, a beautiful Hamptons Beachhouse style kitchen and living area like this:
A swimming pool, large open green spaces and gardens that will be tended by someone else as green things die around me, or commit plant suicide, I don’t know, and above all else a room that has floor to ceiling bookcases filled with books. Hundreds of books. Bliss.
So today I went on a little excursion to Valbonne which is a small town about 25mins North East of here. Why? Because I found a book voucher for the English Bookstore in Valbonne that I was given for my birthday and that I hadn’t used. I can’t believe it, how could I forget about a book voucher?!?! Blasphemy of the darkest kind, I know, but it was kind of like getting it as a present all over again when I found it in my drawer –I gave a little squeal of excitement even – so thanks (again) Kym and Rach!
I’m funny about giving people gift vouchers, as I always feel like I should think harder and find them an actual gift, which is weird because I LOVE getting gift vouchers, repeat LOVE them. Am I alone in this? I don’t think so – I’ve seen people kind of half apologise “er, it’s only a Myer/David Jones/Harvey Norman/A&R voucher, sorry” which is silly, because who doesn’t love spending said vouchers??
Anywhoodle, the book shop and indeed the town of Valbonne was way mucho cute and although they didn’t have as large a range of new books as my friend Crystal does at the Cannes English bookshop (does it surprise anyone that I’ve befriended the lady who runs the bookshop? No? Thought not.) This shop did have quite a large second hand section and this is where I struck GOLD people. This is my haul.
Yep, six, that’s right six books for one expired €20 book voucher, which the nice lady accepted anyway. I am so chuffed!
I’ve wanted to read Life of Pi, The Shadow of the Wind and Captain Corelli’s for yonks – I have actually read about a third of Captain Corelli before but it was someone else’s book and they selfishly wanted to read it themselves. Boo. The other three just sound interesting, especially Passion which is about the poets Byron, Shelley and Keats through the eyes of the women who knew and loved them. Juicy historical fiction, sooo my cup of tea.
I love second hand books – well, that is, I love the principle of them, as it means getting SIX books in perfectly good condition for €20!!!! (still excited) however I am too attached to my own books to ever part with them. Having said that, I did donate two boxes of books, CDs and DVDs to the Burnside Library when we left – and I am happy to lend my books out, so long as they come back. He he. Clearly I am a one sided second hand book lover. But hey! There are floor to ceiling bookshelves in my future and they aren’t going to fill themselves!
Happy reading all! xx
Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counsellors, and the most patient of teachers. ~Charles W. Eliot
Monday, 21 September 2009
I did something dumb
I know this will come as a surprise for some of you but I, on rare occasions, do stupid things. Yes, shocking, I know.
One of my (many) bad traits is an unwillingness to admit when I have no idea what's going on and to forcefully soldier on regardless. This, ranga hair and a short temper are, I'm positive, a result of too much Thwaites in my DNA. And in a foreign language this bodes ill. Frequently I will participate in conversations en francaise and then walk away with only a vague idea of what we just discussed. meh.
Anywhoodle,
Awhile ago when I was in Paris with Kate, Stevie and Dobs I received a phone call from a lady babbling on in French. I had ZERO idea what she was on about - I thought she was offering me a hire car, but no, she was saying something about lessons, but I was busy shopping/quaffing champagne so I politely declined her offer.
Fast forward to last week, I receive another call from an unnaturally exuberant French lady (same lady? possibly) and this time manage to ascertain that she wants me to come in for a language test. Why?? Who?? Huh?? Ok, whatever, I'll bite. So I say "d'accord" - see blog from awhile ago about how this is my fail safe in almost all french situations - and ask her to give me details of where and when.
When is cool "á huit heure et demi, jeudi vingt-quatre septembre" Easy. I eat days of the week/month/dates in french for breakfast.
Then she says the name of the company, which I write down as "Enfret" and spells out the address which I write down as "rue du Quai Becqurt". Simple. She mentions that they're just off Boulevard Carnot, which is a major road. Cool. She hangs up after saying some more ..... stuff... I think I have to bring "un stylo". Ok, cool.
I then realise I didn't get her name or number. Doh. So decide to look up where this place is to plan my attack and make a drive/bus decision.
hmmmm. Can't find it. Can't find any street IN CANNES with that address. Hmmm. Ok, try the company name. No dice. Try various spelling of both. Nup.
So at this stage I realise I have made an appointment with a random, chirpy lady who I may or may not have been quite rude to on the phone when I was in Paris, And I have no idea where the place is as my french sucks. C.R.A.P
However, you will be pleased to know, dear readers, that further investigations paid dividends. I eventually found it. Would you like to know the details?
Company name: INFREP
Address: 7, rue Léopold Bucquet
So close! he he he he he. I'm an idiot. I was so thrilled when I worked it out that I did a prolonged touchdown/happy dance around the apartment, much to current guest Ando's amusement. He thinks I'm an idiot too.
Hopefully when I got to this place that I now know the address of, they will explain to me why I'm there and how they got my number.
Stay tuned for the solution to the next mystery!
One of my (many) bad traits is an unwillingness to admit when I have no idea what's going on and to forcefully soldier on regardless. This, ranga hair and a short temper are, I'm positive, a result of too much Thwaites in my DNA. And in a foreign language this bodes ill. Frequently I will participate in conversations en francaise and then walk away with only a vague idea of what we just discussed. meh.
Anywhoodle,
Awhile ago when I was in Paris with Kate, Stevie and Dobs I received a phone call from a lady babbling on in French. I had ZERO idea what she was on about - I thought she was offering me a hire car, but no, she was saying something about lessons, but I was busy shopping/quaffing champagne so I politely declined her offer.
Fast forward to last week, I receive another call from an unnaturally exuberant French lady (same lady? possibly) and this time manage to ascertain that she wants me to come in for a language test. Why?? Who?? Huh?? Ok, whatever, I'll bite. So I say "d'accord" - see blog from awhile ago about how this is my fail safe in almost all french situations - and ask her to give me details of where and when.
When is cool "á huit heure et demi, jeudi vingt-quatre septembre" Easy. I eat days of the week/month/dates in french for breakfast.
Then she says the name of the company, which I write down as "Enfret" and spells out the address which I write down as "rue du Quai Becqurt". Simple. She mentions that they're just off Boulevard Carnot, which is a major road. Cool. She hangs up after saying some more ..... stuff... I think I have to bring "un stylo". Ok, cool.
I then realise I didn't get her name or number. Doh. So decide to look up where this place is to plan my attack and make a drive/bus decision.
hmmmm. Can't find it. Can't find any street IN CANNES with that address. Hmmm. Ok, try the company name. No dice. Try various spelling of both. Nup.
So at this stage I realise I have made an appointment with a random, chirpy lady who I may or may not have been quite rude to on the phone when I was in Paris, And I have no idea where the place is as my french sucks. C.R.A.P
However, you will be pleased to know, dear readers, that further investigations paid dividends. I eventually found it. Would you like to know the details?
Company name: INFREP
Address: 7, rue Léopold Bucquet
So close! he he he he he. I'm an idiot. I was so thrilled when I worked it out that I did a prolonged touchdown/happy dance around the apartment, much to current guest Ando's amusement. He thinks I'm an idiot too.
Hopefully when I got to this place that I now know the address of, they will explain to me why I'm there and how they got my number.
Stay tuned for the solution to the next mystery!
Sunday, 13 September 2009
Don't stop believing
Firstly – devastated about the Crows and glad not be living in Adelaide today with the media saturation and certain family members who are, despicably, Collingwood fans. Ew, I know. How disgusting. I had to retreat to the safety of our bedroom during the final quarter as the intensity in front of the computer was getting a little extreme. Poor M, I honestly thought he was going to cry/punch something. Poor Crows. What a way to end their season. Boo. Ah well, I’m hoping for a Saints v Cats GF, that should be good and well worth getting out of bed at 4.30am to get over to the Australia bar in Nice for....... ouch.
We went out for dinner in Nice last night for our lovely friend Marion’s birthday. It was a great night, really friendly people and yummy food. We continue to find some French customs totally bizarre though. When we all went out for M’s birthday, we said 8.00pm I think, and when we arrived at about 8.10pm (my fault, as always, exacerbated by a late bus) everyone was already there – très embarrassing. So last night we left to get to Nice and find a park with plenty o’ time for an 8.30pm dinner, but didn’t count on there being some big celebration thingo on in Nice, so nary a park to be found. We ended up parking about 20min away from where we needed to be in the old town – and literally legged it to get there. And we were the 3rd person there, out of about 20! So we waited outside, as the restaurant was down a small lane, which was fine, and slowly other people arrived, obviously having problems with parking too. At about 9.30, still lacking full numbers, we entered the restaurant and this is where France and Australia differ. In France it’s polite/custom that you do not have a drink at all until everyone is there and has drinks. So we waited, kept waiting, til 10.30 when the rest of the group finally arrived. I’m not complaining, as we all just chatted away quite happily, but I do think it’s amusing that at home, we’d have had about 4 champagnes/beers under the belt by that time at least and probably would have ordered some kind of nibbles/entree to graze on. But no. We eventually did get drinks and ate our dinner (at about 11.30) and eventually left and got home by about 2.00am, which felt like a weirdly late time to be arriving home after just dinner! It was a truly lovely night, I just find cultural quirks like this amusing. Probably why France doesn’t have a binge drinking problem like we do but still ..... the thirst! It needs to be quenched!
And finally – two espiodes in and I am totally obsessed with Glee. And I have a huge crush on Finn – the quarterback who can sing. He may be my new Angel/Pacey/Chuck Bass – you know how I get – and this guy can SING. SQ-WEEEEE.
We went out for dinner in Nice last night for our lovely friend Marion’s birthday. It was a great night, really friendly people and yummy food. We continue to find some French customs totally bizarre though. When we all went out for M’s birthday, we said 8.00pm I think, and when we arrived at about 8.10pm (my fault, as always, exacerbated by a late bus) everyone was already there – très embarrassing. So last night we left to get to Nice and find a park with plenty o’ time for an 8.30pm dinner, but didn’t count on there being some big celebration thingo on in Nice, so nary a park to be found. We ended up parking about 20min away from where we needed to be in the old town – and literally legged it to get there. And we were the 3rd person there, out of about 20! So we waited outside, as the restaurant was down a small lane, which was fine, and slowly other people arrived, obviously having problems with parking too. At about 9.30, still lacking full numbers, we entered the restaurant and this is where France and Australia differ. In France it’s polite/custom that you do not have a drink at all until everyone is there and has drinks. So we waited, kept waiting, til 10.30 when the rest of the group finally arrived. I’m not complaining, as we all just chatted away quite happily, but I do think it’s amusing that at home, we’d have had about 4 champagnes/beers under the belt by that time at least and probably would have ordered some kind of nibbles/entree to graze on. But no. We eventually did get drinks and ate our dinner (at about 11.30) and eventually left and got home by about 2.00am, which felt like a weirdly late time to be arriving home after just dinner! It was a truly lovely night, I just find cultural quirks like this amusing. Probably why France doesn’t have a binge drinking problem like we do but still ..... the thirst! It needs to be quenched!
And finally – two espiodes in and I am totally obsessed with Glee. And I have a huge crush on Finn – the quarterback who can sing. He may be my new Angel/Pacey/Chuck Bass – you know how I get – and this guy can SING. SQ-WEEEEE.
Monday, 7 September 2009
The answer is blowing in the wind
I have begun helping out my friend Hannah, who manages some apartments, with the cleaning. laundering and meet & greet - ing. It's easy, Hannah is a scream and it's not exactly rocket science however I do find myself channeling the spirit of my step-mother when cleaning shower mould with a toothbrush.
Thus, this past weekend with the laundry from the apartments combined with about every article of clothing M and I own (including most definitely every pair of undies we have, we were both, I'm ashamed to admit, on to a 2nd wear - ew) that had stockpiled over the last few crazy weeks, plus bedding from guests, towels, beach towels etc etc - it was a weekend of washing!
Due to this laundry onslaught I headed to the supermarket to buy more detergent, softener, cool sachet thingies that promise to make your whites whiter - or "Pour des blancs impeccables et éclatants" - which sounds spiffy. I love the smell of clean linen. Seriously seriously love it. But I'm a bit funny about detergents and fabric softeners cause if they smell wrong then it ruins the nice clean laundry sensation for me. I don't want sheets that smell like a field of lavender, thanks but - no. Ok, I'm weird, I get that.
Anywho, twas at me local supermarket and decided to have a little sniff of some of the softeners - there are lots to choose from, there's the translation issue and, like chip packet colours, there is no correlation from country to country. Seriously - this bugs me - aqua coloured bottle should be something ocean-ish yeah? Not Pine! And green should be - i dunno, tree based, not citrus! They are just toying with their customers! On that - if the UN were any use they'd regulate this sort of thing - starting with chip packets - Blue for salted, Purple for Salt and Vinegar, Brown for BBQ etc. I am always devastated when I grab a packet - thinking mmm chicken chips only to be met with mustard and herbs wtf!?
Sorry - where was I? Oh yeah, sniffing laundry detergents and softeners. And these two ladies were giving me weird looks. Long, sideways, weird looks with raised eyebrows. Like the looks you might give someone who sat down at a petrol station and started sniffing away at the pumps with glee, I mean seriously, can you even get high from laundry detergent?!?! So I grabbed one and luckily it smells nice otherwise I'd be holding the laundry aisle Nazis personally responsible.
On a side note - Australians are geniuses - want to know why? - Hills hoist. Clotheslines.
Don't believe me? You try drying 6 double sheets, 4 duvet covers, 4 single sheets, 9 pillowcases and about 15 towels on a small wire clothes rack and a piece of rope threaded onto your balcony. Not easy! Not easy at all! Am off to try to purchase a much much larger clothes dryer thingo today because, frankly, we're gonna need a bigger boat.
I can't believe I just wrote a whole diatribe on laundry. Ha! well, clean sheets are the bomb.
Thus, this past weekend with the laundry from the apartments combined with about every article of clothing M and I own (including most definitely every pair of undies we have, we were both, I'm ashamed to admit, on to a 2nd wear - ew) that had stockpiled over the last few crazy weeks, plus bedding from guests, towels, beach towels etc etc - it was a weekend of washing!
Due to this laundry onslaught I headed to the supermarket to buy more detergent, softener, cool sachet thingies that promise to make your whites whiter - or "Pour des blancs impeccables et éclatants" - which sounds spiffy. I love the smell of clean linen. Seriously seriously love it. But I'm a bit funny about detergents and fabric softeners cause if they smell wrong then it ruins the nice clean laundry sensation for me. I don't want sheets that smell like a field of lavender, thanks but - no. Ok, I'm weird, I get that.
Anywho, twas at me local supermarket and decided to have a little sniff of some of the softeners - there are lots to choose from, there's the translation issue and, like chip packet colours, there is no correlation from country to country. Seriously - this bugs me - aqua coloured bottle should be something ocean-ish yeah? Not Pine! And green should be - i dunno, tree based, not citrus! They are just toying with their customers! On that - if the UN were any use they'd regulate this sort of thing - starting with chip packets - Blue for salted, Purple for Salt and Vinegar, Brown for BBQ etc. I am always devastated when I grab a packet - thinking mmm chicken chips only to be met with mustard and herbs wtf!?
Sorry - where was I? Oh yeah, sniffing laundry detergents and softeners. And these two ladies were giving me weird looks. Long, sideways, weird looks with raised eyebrows. Like the looks you might give someone who sat down at a petrol station and started sniffing away at the pumps with glee, I mean seriously, can you even get high from laundry detergent?!?! So I grabbed one and luckily it smells nice otherwise I'd be holding the laundry aisle Nazis personally responsible.
On a side note - Australians are geniuses - want to know why? - Hills hoist. Clotheslines.
Don't believe me? You try drying 6 double sheets, 4 duvet covers, 4 single sheets, 9 pillowcases and about 15 towels on a small wire clothes rack and a piece of rope threaded onto your balcony. Not easy! Not easy at all! Am off to try to purchase a much much larger clothes dryer thingo today because, frankly, we're gonna need a bigger boat.
I can't believe I just wrote a whole diatribe on laundry. Ha! well, clean sheets are the bomb.
Wednesday, 2 September 2009
Cannes #1 Tour Guide
It has been go go go here of late after the awesomeness of Croatia and Paris, the party continued with Dobbie and Steve staying for 2 days before continuing their holiday in Monaco and then Italy.
A day to wash the sheets and then the lovely and loud Sarah Beagley touched down on the Thursday night ready to soak up some sun and enjoy some much needed R’n’R. It was so great having Beags here as she is very much like a member of the family and we had lovely long chats and two stunning days lying on the beach and eating great food. Friday night we went out for drinks with friends ‘sur la plage’ which was super fun but did result in me getting chucked in the ocean fully clothed by some randoms and some moonlight swimming in our undies by the three of us. 2 out of 3 also did a bit of nudie swimming. Lets call them ‘Tark’ and ‘Narah’. The bus ride home was mortifyingly embarrassing as I was standing in a giant puddle of water by the end and it looked sooo much like I had wet myself/my waters had broken. Awkward!
Sunday night was literally a revolving door as I dropped Sarah at the airport, picked up my friend Marie’s friend Kathryn, dropped her at Marie’s and then picked up Gary Hayes from the train station. Phew! Hazy has also been a great guest – self sufficient (he went off by himself on Monday arvo for a long walk, found THE greatest coffee spot in Cannes that I didn’t even know existed, leaving me to do boring things like apply for jobs and sort through photos for facebook only to have my uploading fail time and time again – grr. On that – sorry to the FB-ers who are also blog readers that the photos are the same – too lazy to be bothered fiddling!)
On Tuesday I was in full tour guide mode, picking up Kathryn and setting off with my two guests to St Paul de Vence – for the third time in a week. Luckliy, I love the place and have come away with an awesome new ring (Beagley’s influence!) and a gorgeous painting (Hazy’s fault!) A lovely long lunch and an afternoon at the beach was capped off with a dinner at my favourite French restaurant. Hazy has left today in a hire car for a few days but will be back on Sat.
What else has been happening? M is really busy at work, a little tired but good. I’m in the middle of composing a resignation letter to Malcolm which is a little weird and sad but I’m not stressing about it as (A) staying here is a GOOD thing and (B) Pembroke will still be there when we return and hopefully (hopefully!! – fingers crossed I don’t have to take out a hit on anyone) there will be something for me in 2011. All is good.
A day to wash the sheets and then the lovely and loud Sarah Beagley touched down on the Thursday night ready to soak up some sun and enjoy some much needed R’n’R. It was so great having Beags here as she is very much like a member of the family and we had lovely long chats and two stunning days lying on the beach and eating great food. Friday night we went out for drinks with friends ‘sur la plage’ which was super fun but did result in me getting chucked in the ocean fully clothed by some randoms and some moonlight swimming in our undies by the three of us. 2 out of 3 also did a bit of nudie swimming. Lets call them ‘Tark’ and ‘Narah’. The bus ride home was mortifyingly embarrassing as I was standing in a giant puddle of water by the end and it looked sooo much like I had wet myself/my waters had broken. Awkward!
Sunday night was literally a revolving door as I dropped Sarah at the airport, picked up my friend Marie’s friend Kathryn, dropped her at Marie’s and then picked up Gary Hayes from the train station. Phew! Hazy has also been a great guest – self sufficient (he went off by himself on Monday arvo for a long walk, found THE greatest coffee spot in Cannes that I didn’t even know existed, leaving me to do boring things like apply for jobs and sort through photos for facebook only to have my uploading fail time and time again – grr. On that – sorry to the FB-ers who are also blog readers that the photos are the same – too lazy to be bothered fiddling!)
On Tuesday I was in full tour guide mode, picking up Kathryn and setting off with my two guests to St Paul de Vence – for the third time in a week. Luckliy, I love the place and have come away with an awesome new ring (Beagley’s influence!) and a gorgeous painting (Hazy’s fault!) A lovely long lunch and an afternoon at the beach was capped off with a dinner at my favourite French restaurant. Hazy has left today in a hire car for a few days but will be back on Sat.
What else has been happening? M is really busy at work, a little tired but good. I’m in the middle of composing a resignation letter to Malcolm which is a little weird and sad but I’m not stressing about it as (A) staying here is a GOOD thing and (B) Pembroke will still be there when we return and hopefully (hopefully!! – fingers crossed I don’t have to take out a hit on anyone) there will be something for me in 2011. All is good.
Paris Celebrations Part 2 - Kate's Birthday
So after getting all dolled up we headed out for our big night on the town to celebrate the end of Kate’s 20s (we are soooo old it’s scary.)
We found a really lovely little restaurant that was able to feed us in time to get to the Moulin Rouge for our 9.00pm show. A lovely bottle of champagne for the girls, beers for the boys and we were set. When we got inside the Moulin Rouge it was already packed, and I mean stuffed full to the rafters, luckily our table was actually in a good spot up above the bar so we had a great view and the 3 bottles of champers that got plunked down for us quickly took our minds off the slightly cramped conditions.
The show itself = thoroughly enjoyable. We laughed and cheered and ooooed and ahhhhhd and had a jolly good time. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe I’m just easily entertained by sequins and pert boobies, who knows, but we all had a blast.
After we tumbled out of the theatre – and M took THE BEST PHOTO of Kate in fully fledged Sex and the City pose, (see above!!) we found a bar called “Happy Hour” with a HUGE cocktail list. Sold! The photos I’m willing to show in public show how much fun we were having and what a great, messy night it was. Kate in particular looked so pretty that night and M and I both think she looks so happy and glowing in the photos. Pretty hot-stuff for a 30 year old! Xx
We found a really lovely little restaurant that was able to feed us in time to get to the Moulin Rouge for our 9.00pm show. A lovely bottle of champagne for the girls, beers for the boys and we were set. When we got inside the Moulin Rouge it was already packed, and I mean stuffed full to the rafters, luckily our table was actually in a good spot up above the bar so we had a great view and the 3 bottles of champers that got plunked down for us quickly took our minds off the slightly cramped conditions.
The show itself = thoroughly enjoyable. We laughed and cheered and ooooed and ahhhhhd and had a jolly good time. Maybe it was the champagne, maybe I’m just easily entertained by sequins and pert boobies, who knows, but we all had a blast.
After we tumbled out of the theatre – and M took THE BEST PHOTO of Kate in fully fledged Sex and the City pose, (see above!!) we found a bar called “Happy Hour” with a HUGE cocktail list. Sold! The photos I’m willing to show in public show how much fun we were having and what a great, messy night it was. Kate in particular looked so pretty that night and M and I both think she looks so happy and glowing in the photos. Pretty hot-stuff for a 30 year old! Xx
As it was “officially” her birthday, being well and truly after midnight, I insisted on giving Kate her present when we got back to the hotel. She seemed to really like the paintings I’d picked out (and it’s funny that her birthday present to me was an awesome voucher to have photos blown up onto canvas – great minds!) and she loved the giant novelty handmade card full of photos of all the good times and mischief the three of us have gotten up to.
Next morning was an unpleasantly early wake up – you know how sometimes it’s only when you wake up and everything hurts that you realise – oh, I was really rather booz-ed last night! Ouch. We were off on the OTHER surprise of the weekend, which was a Champagne tour that we had organised for Kate’s birthday. The tour was BRILLIANT, honestly so so good, I can’t recommend it enough. Our guide, Trong, was so enthusiastic and passionate and informative – I felt rather bad actually on the drive out to Reims, which is the heart of the Champagne region in France, as he was chatting away to us - one by one we all fell asleep! He found it very amusing though.
He took us to the vineyards first and explained all about how the grapes are grown and the strict regulations that govern champagne production and then we went to a small private cellar – Jean-Claude Mouzon in the small village of Verzenay which is one of only 17 villages that produces the best champagne in the world – ‘Grand Cru’ – the visit was fascinating and we got to taste heaps of champagne including some reserve blends. Yum-o.
After that we went and had lunch – and more champers, in Reims and then visited the famous and very beautiful Cathedral. This was interesting but a bit too much time was spent explaining the meaning of Every. Single. Stained. Glass. Window. I didn’t have the heart to tell Trong that we are alcoholic atheists/agnostics only there for the booze! Finally it was visits to the famous cellars at Tattinger and then the brightly coloured and disco-themed Pommery. Back in to Paris to drop M at the train station (some people have to work on Mondays you know!) and a bite to eat then it was back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep in preparation for a hideously early flight for Kate and reasonably early trains for the rest of us. Back to Cannes to continue the run of visitors! X
Next morning was an unpleasantly early wake up – you know how sometimes it’s only when you wake up and everything hurts that you realise – oh, I was really rather booz-ed last night! Ouch. We were off on the OTHER surprise of the weekend, which was a Champagne tour that we had organised for Kate’s birthday. The tour was BRILLIANT, honestly so so good, I can’t recommend it enough. Our guide, Trong, was so enthusiastic and passionate and informative – I felt rather bad actually on the drive out to Reims, which is the heart of the Champagne region in France, as he was chatting away to us - one by one we all fell asleep! He found it very amusing though.
He took us to the vineyards first and explained all about how the grapes are grown and the strict regulations that govern champagne production and then we went to a small private cellar – Jean-Claude Mouzon in the small village of Verzenay which is one of only 17 villages that produces the best champagne in the world – ‘Grand Cru’ – the visit was fascinating and we got to taste heaps of champagne including some reserve blends. Yum-o.
After that we went and had lunch – and more champers, in Reims and then visited the famous and very beautiful Cathedral. This was interesting but a bit too much time was spent explaining the meaning of Every. Single. Stained. Glass. Window. I didn’t have the heart to tell Trong that we are alcoholic atheists/agnostics only there for the booze! Finally it was visits to the famous cellars at Tattinger and then the brightly coloured and disco-themed Pommery. Back in to Paris to drop M at the train station (some people have to work on Mondays you know!) and a bite to eat then it was back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep in preparation for a hideously early flight for Kate and reasonably early trains for the rest of us. Back to Cannes to continue the run of visitors! X
Paris Celebrations Part 1
So the whirlwind holiday continued with Kate coming back to Cannes with us (two long, hot days in the car that none of us enjoyed that much) and we spent a great day in Antibes and celebrated M’s birthday with a picnic on the beach and dinner and drinks out with friends.
On Thursday Kate and I caught the TGV to Paris to meet up again with Dobbie and Steve, who had been shopping up a storm in Prague and Paris in our absence, visiting virtually every Zara store in town! We had a great dinner at a little cafe and made plans to meet at their hotel the next morning to go out for breakfast.
This is where the great Proposal Plan of 2009 kicks in. Stevie was planning on proposing to Dobbie that Friday night on top of the Eiffel Tower (sighs, awww) which Kate and I knew about, so our services were enlisted by Captain Stevie to make sure his elaborate – oh, so very elaborate and incredible – plan went off without a hitch.
He chucked a sickie in the morning, convincing Dobbie to go out with us for breakfast – at the sinfully delicious Angelinas – while he checked them out of their hotel and into The Ritz, yes, The Ritz. It almost fell apart when the three of us girls decided to duck into Tiffanys (oh man, M is soo lucky we don’t have one of these in Cannes, I don’t think he’d believe me if I told him a Tiffany’s bracelet cost me only €15....) and while we were in there, Kate and I spied Stevie – who is meant to be at the hotel asleep, browsing the charm section. With some quick diversionary tactics, and Stevie spotting Dobbie so bolting out of the store, much to the salespersons bemusement, Dobbie was none the wiser.
When he “felt better” later and met up with us he presented her with a Tiffanys bag containing the charm – exactly the one she’d just been looking at, not 30min before!! After that we headed to Galleries Lafayette for some serious shopping/drooling. We also made a stop at the Champagne Bar there for a quick glass of Veuve, you know – when in Rome!
After this Kate and I made our exit, leaving Stevie to carry out the rest of his plan – which included a pedicure at the Ritz spa, then announcing that he’d booked a suite at the Ritz for the night, surprising Dobbie with a ‘clue’ as to their dinner location that night – another Tiffany’s charm, this one of the Eiffel Tower, and then dinner at the 2 Michelen starred Jules Verne Restaurant where he proceeded to get down on one knee and finally ask Dobs the big question and placing an INSANELY gorgeous ring on her finger. As Beyonce says, If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!
Kate and I also got to see inside the hallowed halls of the Ritz as between pedicure and proposal, they invited us over for a glass of champagne and the chance to gawk at the reee-donckulous beauty and extravagance of the Ritz. When the two of us walked in the room we all literally started pissing ourselves laughing, we had about a 10min fit of hysterics, the place is THAT crazy. We also got to see the Pool/Spa area and what they call the “Path of Temptation” which is basically a place to shop for the people who literally have everything. Diamond incrusted cane? How did I live without this before??
Anyways, once we left them at the Ritz, Kate and I headed out to do some sightseeing and found a great place in the Marais for dinner, collected M from the train station and waited impatiently for the shriek and tear filled phone call we knew would come from Dobs.
The next morning the three of us went to the Latin Quarter, the Pantheon, Notre Dame and – for me, of course, a visit to Shakespeare & Co Bookshop....only four books this time!! Quite restrained!
We heard from the newely engaged couple and made plans to meet on the Champs de Mars – the lawns under the Eiffel Tower. A quick stop at Monoprix for some chilled Veuve Clicquot..mmmm and we were back at the scene of the crime with a pleased as punch Stevie and a beaming and thrilled Dobbie. Oh, and the ring is off-the-charts gorgeous.
So happy and so in love - so excited!!
On Thursday Kate and I caught the TGV to Paris to meet up again with Dobbie and Steve, who had been shopping up a storm in Prague and Paris in our absence, visiting virtually every Zara store in town! We had a great dinner at a little cafe and made plans to meet at their hotel the next morning to go out for breakfast.
The 'crew' back together in Paris after 4 days apart
This is where the great Proposal Plan of 2009 kicks in. Stevie was planning on proposing to Dobbie that Friday night on top of the Eiffel Tower (sighs, awww) which Kate and I knew about, so our services were enlisted by Captain Stevie to make sure his elaborate – oh, so very elaborate and incredible – plan went off without a hitch.
He chucked a sickie in the morning, convincing Dobbie to go out with us for breakfast – at the sinfully delicious Angelinas – while he checked them out of their hotel and into The Ritz, yes, The Ritz. It almost fell apart when the three of us girls decided to duck into Tiffanys (oh man, M is soo lucky we don’t have one of these in Cannes, I don’t think he’d believe me if I told him a Tiffany’s bracelet cost me only €15....) and while we were in there, Kate and I spied Stevie – who is meant to be at the hotel asleep, browsing the charm section. With some quick diversionary tactics, and Stevie spotting Dobbie so bolting out of the store, much to the salespersons bemusement, Dobbie was none the wiser.
When he “felt better” later and met up with us he presented her with a Tiffanys bag containing the charm – exactly the one she’d just been looking at, not 30min before!! After that we headed to Galleries Lafayette for some serious shopping/drooling. We also made a stop at the Champagne Bar there for a quick glass of Veuve, you know – when in Rome!
Drinking Champagne in the Galeries Lafayette
After this Kate and I made our exit, leaving Stevie to carry out the rest of his plan – which included a pedicure at the Ritz spa, then announcing that he’d booked a suite at the Ritz for the night, surprising Dobbie with a ‘clue’ as to their dinner location that night – another Tiffany’s charm, this one of the Eiffel Tower, and then dinner at the 2 Michelen starred Jules Verne Restaurant where he proceeded to get down on one knee and finally ask Dobs the big question and placing an INSANELY gorgeous ring on her finger. As Beyonce says, If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!
Kate and I also got to see inside the hallowed halls of the Ritz as between pedicure and proposal, they invited us over for a glass of champagne and the chance to gawk at the reee-donckulous beauty and extravagance of the Ritz. When the two of us walked in the room we all literally started pissing ourselves laughing, we had about a 10min fit of hysterics, the place is THAT crazy. We also got to see the Pool/Spa area and what they call the “Path of Temptation” which is basically a place to shop for the people who literally have everything. Diamond incrusted cane? How did I live without this before??
Dobs and Stevie in their BANANAS suite at The Ritz
Anyways, once we left them at the Ritz, Kate and I headed out to do some sightseeing and found a great place in the Marais for dinner, collected M from the train station and waited impatiently for the shriek and tear filled phone call we knew would come from Dobs.
The next morning the three of us went to the Latin Quarter, the Pantheon, Notre Dame and – for me, of course, a visit to Shakespeare & Co Bookshop....only four books this time!! Quite restrained!
We heard from the newely engaged couple and made plans to meet on the Champs de Mars – the lawns under the Eiffel Tower. A quick stop at Monoprix for some chilled Veuve Clicquot..mmmm and we were back at the scene of the crime with a pleased as punch Stevie and a beaming and thrilled Dobbie. Oh, and the ring is off-the-charts gorgeous.
So happy and so in love - so excited!!
That night – Moulin Rouge to celebrate Kate’s 30th, and a whole lotta champagne! Next blog!
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