Don't mention le foot...

Lovely spell of crisp, sunny winter weather in Lyon at the moment. Otherwise it's been a couple of days with little to write home about. Quiet on the home front with la bienheureuse away in Germany. Fortunately I decided not to bother with the trek to the pub on Tuesday to watch the poorer relatives of Norf London finally succeed, at the 22nd attempt, in beating their more successful neighbours. Beating a 2nd choice selection of their neighbours, anyway.

Somewhat more successful evening yesterday, when I trundled along to Stade Gerland to watch OL get back to winning ways. After a bit of a wobble (1 win in 5 league games, plus a defeat in the league cup - sound familiar?), les lyonnais found a bit of form again and produced a decent performance for the first time in a while.

Meanwhile I await the return of the family breadwinner (still suffering from cold/flu symptoms) and the arrival of guests prior to the skiing trip, which starts on Sunday. Je m'impatiente...

The roofbox and the car park

A very mild and sunny weekend in Lyon, though we neglected to take advantage of the weather, due in part to la bienheureuse suffering from a rather bad cold, which I suspect almost qualifies as la grippe. She has however managed to struggle in to work today and is still intending to fly off to l'allemagne this evening for 3 days. Feels obliged to do so, given that she is organising the meeting.

Our one burst of activity was on Saturday morning, when we decided to get up early and take the car to the nearby shopping centre to effect the purchase of a rowing machine/bike trainer (belated attempt to regain a bit of fitness for the skiing & shed a bit of excess poids). Duly reached the multi-storey car park with our other recent purchase still attached to the roof.

Big mistake - height limit was 1.80m, and the barrier refused us entry despite the fact that I estimate the height of car & box to be 1.79m. And of course, by the time we'd realised this and had a short discussion via intercom with the attendant there was a lengthy queue of cars behind us and no way to back out...

Fortunately, there was a small inlet just in front of the barriers, which we could back into and allow space for other cars to squeeze past. Only solution - remove the roof box, put it into the back of the car (easier said than done given that it is almost the same length as the car interior, but by winding the passenger seat all the way forward we just managed it), drive through the car park because there was now no room in car for roofbox and new purchase, drive home, dump the box in the garage, & drive back again. We finally bought our new toy & got home two hours after setting out. Would have been quicker to wheel it home on foot...

The calm before the storm...

A wild & windy night in Lyon last night, the wind howling down the boiler ventilation chimney. Otherwise a quiet week, to be followed by an even quieter week. Probably. Then it's Meribel,here we come.

La bienheureuse was in Milan again on Monday & Tuesday, and next week she's away in Germany for 3 nights. Airport safely negotiated without physical damage this time, but her ankle is still somewhat bruised so we'll probably give the day trip to Courchevel this weekend a miss. Saves being barred entry to the bus as well...

Meanwhile, things trundle along calmly chez nous. I have at least got down to a more concerted effort on book 3, the mouse continues to evade capture, the weather gets more unsettled and milder, and the Sarko feuilleton continues.

Être française...

French women are the longest-living in Europe according to figures just released by the French statistics institute - 84.4 years. En revanche, their men only have an average life-span of 77.5 years. Suprising, considering the number of women you see smoking here. Then again, predominantly young women, so maybe the figure will start dropping in a few years. Then again, maybe not. The French also have the highest birth rate in Europe...

Talking of smoking, signs that a rebellion against the loi anti-tabac may be about to begin. A bar-tabac owner in small village near Nantes has just started a hunger strike in protest. Claims his turnover will drop by 30-40%, and that other small commerces in the village will suffer a knock-on effect. He is demanding a relaxation of the law for bars in small villages. There have also been a handful of other bar owners defying the law, following the Lyon trailblazer, and another has started a petition on the internet. Perhaps I should start a counter-petition...

Meanwhile, a nightclub on the Côte d'Azur is getting round the law by defining a separate upstairs smoking room as a "private" club. Smokers pay a nominal fee to join the club...

Le président continues to hog the headlines. Sarko's current, relatively low-key visit to the Gulf has been overshadowed at home by a story in a local paper yesterday claiming that he and new squeeze Carla Bruni married in secret at the Palais de l'Élysée last Thursday. Two days after he'd told a press conference with 200+ journalists that they'd only learn about it after the event. The leak is rumoured to be ex-wife Cecilia, via one of Sarkozy's sons. The former Mme Sarkozy recently failed to stop the publication of a book about her, which includes some choice quotes about the hyperpresident:
"womaniser", "skinflint", "incapable of loving anyone, even his children"...

Next stop Venice & the voyage de noces, according to Italian papers. Quelle soap opera...

The best laid plans...

...of mice & men.

The schemes of the former seem to be going rather well. Our guest takes the bait laid outside the trap as a test but ignores all the tasty morsels within.

Our plans yesterday, on the other hand, were doomed from the start. The skiing idea was already thrown into question by la bienheureuse's injury. However, as we'd already paid (albeit a heavily subsidised fee), we decided to go so that I could ski while she spent the day relaxing, doing some gentle swimming, or similar. Thus, the alarm went off at ten to six, we drove to the pick-up point through the rain and awaited the coach, which duly arrived.

First sign of a problem, the tour rep tells everybody there are 4 bodies more than places on the coach. We thought about volunteering to drop out but decided to board anyway in case someone else hadn't turned up. However, on giving our names to the rep, he says "Ah, you're les anglais? You aren't registered because your social club organisers gave us too many names."

It wasn't clear who had decided this, but it seemed we'd been singled out purely for not being French. In truth we weren't that disappointed, having almost decided not to go anyway, but it was still somewhat annoying, to put it mildly, to have been picked on in such a fashion. If there was a problem with numbers, why weren't we told the previous day? The rep did say he could see if there was space on another of the travel company's coaches, but we said sod it, don't bother, went straight home & got back into bed...

The consolation, or so I thought, was that I could go down to the pub in the afternoon, watch the mighty Gunners win, then we could go along to Gerland and watch OL play that evening. Foiled again, firstly when Canal+ decided to switch the match they were showing to the one between two 2nd rate London teams all because the most mercenary French footballer in existence had just signed for one of them. I experienced a slight feeling schadenfreude when he started the match on the bench.

Then of course l'équipe de mon coeur only managed a draw. Not the most enjoyable Saturday in recent memory, though it did end well enough when OL managed a 3-2 win against a team which has apparently been a bit of a bête noir for them.

And today has somewhat redeemed yesterday. Lovely, crisp sunny winter's day here, which allowed us to enjoy a nice walk along the river and in the park. Even the lemurs in the plaine africaine were out squabbling and enjoying the sun.

Elusive rodents and smokeless bars

Mousetrap (humane) duly purchased, but souris still at large. Only sign that he's still about is the disappearance of a small piece of chocolate I put down near the fridge as a test. Cheese, bread & bacon remain unmolested.

We are off skiing tomorrow. At least I am, if the weather allows - forecast is for heavy snow in the mountains tomorrow and there's a southerly gale howling up the Rhone valley today. La bienheureuse will come along for the ride (day trip organised by the social club at work) but be unable to ski due to a twisted ankle sustained during a dangerous transit of Milan airport yesterday.

In her absence on Weds evening, I dragged myself along to the pub to witness the real Arsenal reserves somehow manage to escape with a draw against the local rivals. Not very pleasant viewing, sitting next to a sullen Totts fan, with a chattering group of English exchange students behind. Just the sort of thing we crossed the channel to escape...

Le président, l'ex-mannequin et le loi anti-tabac

Sarko has been trying to justify his much publicised relationship with his new amour, telling a press conference that they didn't want to lie about it, didn't want to hide it, and didn't want to exploit it. Hmm, strange way of 'not exploiting it' - take your new girlfriend to Disneyland, Egypt, and when the latter was overshadowed by the Bhutto assassination, organise another highly mediatised trip to Petra in Jordan.

All very new for the French, who are used to their presidents conducting their affairs in secret. One newspaper columnist may have hit the nail on the head by wondering if it was all about Sarkozy thumbing his nose at Cecilia, his ex-wife. "Look, my new girlfriend is younger, more famous and better-looking than you..."
Opinion polls suggest the publicity may have backfired - Sarkozy's approval rating is below 50% for the first time since the start of his presidency.

Meanwhile, France has followed most of the rest of western Europe and banned smoking in all public buildings, including from Jan 1st, restaurants, bars & cafés. A revolutionary change in a country where 1 in 4 adults smokes, according to WHO statistics, 1 in 2 according to my own anecdotal evidence. There's been a lot of grumbling from bar & café owners, tabac owners and anyone else with an axe to grind, but so far it seems the law is being by and large followed. There was certainly no-one smoking during our visit to a British-style pub on Sunday, but the pub seemed emptier than usual. Whether due to the smoking ban, post-party season fatigue, or the lack of drawing power of the football match on TV I couldn't say...

There has only been one publicised case about a café owner deliberately and publically flouting the law, and the café in question is right in the middle of Lyon. 2 van loads of CRS police raided the place a few days ago, fined the owner and one of the several dozen smoking clients, then left. Two minutes later everyone lit up again. Apparently the proprietor is hoping to pay his fines by selling photographs of the full ashtrays in the café on the Internet - protest art of a sort I suppose, but I also imagine all the publicity isn't doing his turnover any harm either...

A mouse in the house

Our uninvited guest is back. Spotted on Saturday evening, chased under the refridgerator. Closer investigation of said fridge suggested he was living in amongst the motor, or at least doing his business there. 'Nuff said except to add that there was no other sighting of the little pest himself. Mission for today - buy a mousetrap.

Our mission over the weekend was to buy a roofbox. The annual Meribel ski week is at the end of the month and we are expecting 3 guests the preceding and following weekends, who in turn are expecting transport from Lyon to the Alps. 5 adults, at least 3 pairs of skis, 4 pairs of boots, and assorted other luggage into one petite voiture does not go. Hence decision to invest in a roof box. Easier said than done.

15 minutes to choose and buy suitable box and roof bars. 60 minutes to figure out assembly instructions, borrow a screwdriver and mount bars on car. Another 15 minutes to decide that one of the bolts to affix bars to roof didn't fit in allocated hole, and a further 15 minutes to obtain help from shop and attached workshop. Still, it all arrived home still attached to the roof in one piece, so we assume plain sailing from hereon in. Though hopefully not literally sailing, given that it looks a bit like a sail attached to a car...

Sunday we sampled the delights of the newly smoke free eating and watering holes in France, and went to the pub to watch the mighty Gunners reserves eventually overcome plucky Burnley in the FA Cup. The place was unusually empty, whether due to the smoking ban or the popularity of said match, I couldn't possibly say...

Bonne Année

A belated happy New Year to one and all. Our festive break back in Blighty was highly enjoyable. 3500km of driving, 4 different beds, 2 football matches and 12 days of overeating & overdrinking - it all passed in a bit of a blur. Perhaps I should have cut down a bit on the last mentioned excess...

We really started the festivities the penultimate weekend before Christmas, celebrating la bienheureuse's birthday with a 2 day break at Meribel. Sunshine, plentiful snow, near empty pistes - hard to beat. There was rather a bitter east wind (la bize) though, and the cold snap continued into the following weekend. For the drive up to Calais on the Friday morning the autoroutes were lined with trees covered in hoar frost. A beautiful winter wonderland without the snow. We had a good journey - empty roads until guess where? The M25 and the Dartford crossing of course. Is there a campaign for tolls in British motorways I can join?

Nonetheless got to Cambridge by early evening, in time for a pleasant evening chez Mr G and his rhyming lady. Equally enjoyable following day, witnessing the red forces of good triumph over the dark side of north London, then a drive up to chez la belle-mère in Cheshire, our base for the Christmas section of the holiday.

Sun 23rd - shopping in Chester completed relatively painlessly, apart from lengthy queue for park & ride bus in pouring rain.

Christmas Day - passed as enjoyably as usual chez le beau-frère, famille et chiens. Ate too much, drank enough, demonstrated average Pick-up-Sticks ability, failed to venture outside.

Boxing Day - visited frère numéro trois, belle-soeur, 2 nièces, 2 neveux, 2 chats & 1 chien. Rats now believed deceased. Spent most of the day Wii-ing. Whacked (accidentally) niece & sofa through over-enthusiasm with Wii-wotsit...

Thu 27th - ambitious family gathering at a pub near Northwich started inauspiciously when 2 brothers, 1 girlfriend and 1 sister were 2 hours late. Traffic jam on M6 and getting lost to blame respectively. Nonetheless a very enjoyable meal & couple of hours, after which those family members sans enfants returned to west Cheshire base, where la belle-mère had generously and foolhardily offered to host a subsequent family meal in the evening. Ate & drank too much again.

Fri 28th - spent morning in Chester with siblings in pouring rain, most of it in a pub, then joined la bienheureuse and her family back chez le beau-frère in N Wales. Ate too much again, failed to venture outside again.

Sat 29th - drove to a rendezvous near Frodsham with brother no 3 to pick up nephew no 1, then drove through pouring rain to watch Everton - Arsenal match. 1-0 down at half time, totally outplayed, nephew displaying scant signs of enjoying the experience - wondered whether this had been such a good idea. However, a couple of long balls and 4 goals can change everything. Nephew perked up, the evil red Mancunian empire suffered defeat to the Irons, the right team on top of the league, and all was well with the world.

Sun 30th - drove up to the northern Lakes, met up with the Wigs at the house of their friends who weren't there, Mr G, the rhyming lady and Harry turned up later, ate too much Cumberland banger & mash, drank too much. Good evening apart from losing at Trivial Pursuit to JeB.

Mon 31st - provisions purchased, walked the length of Thirlmere and back in the lengthening gloom and lowering mist. Harry enjoyed it anyway. Excellent evening meal, ate too much, drank much too much, lost an interminable and unfathomable card game called Phase 10 to the only sober person present. FCD Sogs, we salute you.

Tue 1st Jan - nursed hangover while la bienheureuse drove most of the 500km+ to Bexleyheath. Spent the evening nursing hangover chez les Docteurs C & sons.

Wed 2nd Jan - caught ferry at 10am, drove home. 850km in a day. Autoroutes empty apart from a constant stream of camions from Langres south.