There's an inane ditty currently topping the radio playlists in France at the moment, entitled "Sea, sex and sun". Over the weekend we made our own version - ski, --- and sun, the middle word of course being snow. We are married, after all...
It was naughty because the cost of ski passes, 2 nights in a self-catering apartment and assorted mountain-top meals all added up to a bit too much. But what were we to do? Nearly a metre of snow in the northern French alps over the last fortnight left all that lovely white stuff just calling out, and when la bienheureuse suggested the idea, I was hard-pressed to prevent myself biting her hand off.
And a lovely weekend in Valmorel it was too. Unbroken sunshine and lovely pistes on Saturday, sunshine most of Sunday albeit with slightly more varied snow conditions. Even la bienheureuse's knee more or less held up for a day and a half.
There was one point late on Saturday afternoon when a perfect day was almost spoilt, but even football matches occasionally have a happy ending. Having scouted the bars on Friday evening and identified one with a screen showing sport, it was with some disgust that we discovered a football match of the egg-chasing variety. However, all was not lost. The bar across the street had a TV, blank when we went in, but a polite query of the proprietor produced a result. Not that my good mood lasted for long when the match finally came on screen, 1-0 and a man down in the pissing rain, soon to become 2-0 not long afterwards. An hour later though and all was right with the world once again. At least until the other results from the weekend came in, but I didn't learn those until last night...
The French TV sporting world is in shock today, mourning the sudden death by heart attack of Thierry Gilardi, the main football commentator on TF1, the most widely viewed TV channel in France. Only on Sunday he was presented Telefoot, TF1's football magazine, and was preparing to commentate on the France - England game tonight.
His enthusiasm for all things football and rugby will be much missed, and he has achieved the not inconsiderable feat of stealing the headlines from the Sarkozy state visit to the UK. Even if the other side of La Manche, the tabloids seem more interested in son épouse Carla, Sarkozy is portrayed this side, at least by the left-wing press, as something of an Anglophile (or more generally, an 'Atlantiste', to include the US). Today's lunchtime TV news, once thirty minutes of tributes to Thierry Gilardi was over, noted Mme Sarkozy's 'severe' outfit for the state welcome at Windsor Castle. At least they had some sense of priority...
Sarko himself is meanwhile attempting to tone down his 'bling' image for the trip, and has already displayed a certain sense of taste in his choice of venue for his meeting with Gordon Brown tomorrow.
La belle-mère enjoyed a full and varied Easter chez nous. She arrived in Lyon just as we saw the last of the sunshine for several days, followed it up with a day of continuous rain, found the sun again on a trip further south, experienced the freezing Mistral, and returned to Lyon to snow and freezing temperatures.
On Friday, with the rain pouring down, we decided any sightseeing would have to be indoors. We thus decided to try a trip to Euroexpo, Lyon's version of the NEC, to experience the Foire de Lyon, a sort of Ideal Home Exhibition and wine & food fair rolled into one. Purchases were limited to a saucisson package deal, patisseries and a mint aromatherapy massage oil strong enough to clear sinuses at twenty paces, but it was an enjoyable day and we stayed mostly dry.
The Easter weekend itself was taken up with a belated birthday present to la belle-mére, a trip to the Vaucluse. Centrepiece was an overnight stay in the Château de Mazan, a former haunt of the Marquis de Sade. Say no more.
We set off on Saturday morning in the Lyonnais rain, but the further south we went, the drier and more sunny it became. The afternoon was taken up by a pleasant walk around Isle sur la Sorgue, a Provençal version of Venice, and a visit to Fontaine de Vaucluse, a closed valley from the depths of which springs the river Sorgue.
The following morning, after wining & dining in suitable style at the château, we drove via an impressive gorge in the shadow of Mont Ventoux to Roussillon, yet another picturesque, hilltop Provençal village, and home to some rather impressive ochre formations. The sun shone brilliantly all through what was perversely a freezing cold day, due to the bitingly chilly Mistral shrieking down the Rhone valley. Wending our way back north to Lyon felt a bit like driving uphill all the way, so strong was the wind.
On Easter Monday we awoke to snow covering the Lyon rooftops. An amble around the St Georges quarter of Vieux Lyon in the freezing cold was thus la belle-mère's last tourist duty. Photos from the trip to the Vaucluse can be found on here on noonadek.com.
La belle-mère arrives tomorrow for the Easter weekend, the spring equinox arrives in two days, so what does the weather do? Turns wintry. We were thinking about spending a couple of days over le weekend de Paques away from home, perhaps further south in search of warmth and sunshine, perhaps in the mountains in search of sun, snow and scenery. The forecast however has probably squashed that idea on the head.
The sunny south of France? Forecast: cloud, rain and temperatures barely in double figures. The Alps? Forecast: heavy snow on Friday, clouds and more snow on Saturday and Sunday. There is even possible snow forecast in Lyon over the weekend. Where is spring when you need it?
The weekend in Montalbert turned out to be very enjoyable, despite the predicted sweltering temperatures on Saturday and despite the lost battle of the wounded knee.
The giant slalom went ahead as planned, but la bienheureuse was forced to withdraw from the competition. She made one trial run on Saturday morning but that was all her knee would allow. It was thus left to me to uphold family honour in the race, and I duly made a negligible impact on the final rankings. In my defence, I'm bound to say that I did in my quickest time yet, shaving a full 6 seconds off last year's run. Short video of the finish below.
Now, if it looks as though I'm not going very fast, then that's because, well, I'm not. However, I can assure you that it felt quite fast enough. In an attempt to prove the point, a rough short calculation follows:
The lift that runs parallel to the course drops 255 metres over a distance of 817m (average slope 34%). True, the course finished perhaps 50m further up the slope than the bottom of the lift, but bear in mind that the slalom course gates zigzag down the slope, so that the distance travelled is much further than the shortest route from top to bottom. Assuming a zigzag with 90 degree angles gives a distance actually covered of about 1075m, divide by my time of 1m20s, and one arrives at an average speed of about 48 km/h, roughly 30mph. Respectable? I'll leave you to decide...
The rest of the weekend was very enjoyable. Warm sunny weather on Saturday, perfect for the mass barbecue on the slopes for lunch. While I enjoyed the lovely snow higher up, la bienheureuse stuck to the gentler pastime (for her knees at least) of walking through the snowy forest around and about. Sunday night it pissed down with rain at the level of the resort, but by early morning it had turned to snow, which boded well for conditions higher up.
And things looked set even fairer when the clouds cleared just as I got out onto the slopes, and for two hours I enjoyed skiing on 20cm of fresh snow in lovely, sunny weather. However, just before midday the clouds rolled in and for the rest of the afternoon it snowed, heavily at times. Still rather enjoyable though. Meanwhile la bienheureuse was trying her hand at rackets, the snow-shoe, walking variety, and she enjoyed a lovely three and a half hour stomp through the snow-covered forest.
There was a minor shock chez nous this week. A letter, written to the syndic (building managers), appears to have produced results. Following the great flood of 2006, amongst the least of our resulting concerns was the flaking and crumbling of the rendering on the wall outside the our front door. About 15 months ago, once most of the work inside the apartment was over, I reported it. "Yes, we'll get the insurance expert to do a report and get a quote for repair."
Since then nothing. So, two weeks ago I finally got round to writing and asking when it would be done. Nothing in reply until Monday when I hear noises on our landing, and lo and behold there is someone redoing the rendering. Same day we receive a letter from the syndic saying they are giving the matter their full attention and pointing out that the rendering in the stairwell on the first floor was done over a year ago. Quite what the relevance of the latter was I don't know, as the damage there was due to an entirely different water leak (disturbingly common problem in our building). Anyway, it is now done and that is hopefully the last word on the famous flood...
We're off skiing this weekend, the annual company 'sports' weekend at La Plagne. The sporting part consists of a giant slalom on Saturday morning, though the forecast for Saturday (much like today - warm and sunny) suggests we may be water skiing instead, so whether it goes ahead remains to be seen...
Rather noisy round here this afternoon, car horns have been sounding continuously since lunchtime. A stroll into town to do some shopping showed why. A mass demonstration by driving instructors caused a near total gridlock in the streets nearby. They were protesting against a lack of driving test examiners and government reforms to the driving test.
And how did they protest? In typically French fashion, by first driving slowly en masse up and down the main roads, and then finally by parking all along the main riverside roads, blocking all but one lane...
Not an afternoon to be driving in Lyon, which, ahem, la bienheureuse will be doing soon, on the way back from a meeting in an out of town hotel. Fortunately the protest seems to be over and the roads are starting to clear. It's got quieter, at least...
Talking of gridlocked roads and traffic jams meanwhile, we are keeping our fingers crossed that the Sea France strike will come to an end soon. In little more than a month we are booked on a Sea France ferry to Dover. Far enough ahead to not worry too much about yet, but the current grève has dragged on for over 2 weeks so far...
Today is the final day of horse-trading before the final lists are drawn up ahead of the 2nd round of the French municipal elections next Sunday. A second round is necessary where nobody won an absolute majority of votes in the first round. In Lyon, six out of the nine arrondissements produced an outright winner, so only a 3rd of the city needs to vote again on Sunday, though the Socialists already have enough councillors to take overall control and vote the sitting mayor, Gerard Collomb, in again. He's basically been re-elected on the basis of his record over the last 7 years. A large majority of les lyonnais approve of recent council policies and initiatives, such as the redevelopment of the banks of the Rhône, and the innovative bike scheme, Velo'V.
The elections take place according to a highly complicated system, which I'm not sure I've entirely grasped, but will nonetheless attempt to explain. Firstly, voters don't vote for individual candidates, but for 'lists' which are put forward (by established political parties, or local groups) to cover the number of seats for the council as a whole. However, pvillages of less than 3500 inhabitants have slightly different rules. Voters can cross off names from a list, and add their own choice from a different list ie effectively make up their own lists. All very French...
And then there are slightly different rules again for France's three big cities - Paris, Marseille and Lyon. Each is divided up into arrondissements which are treated as 'communes' in their own right (each has its own council and mayor), but then a city-wide council and mayor is made up from those for each arrondissement. Which apparently can lead to somewhat quirky results, such as happened in Lyon in 2001, when the Socialists won 42 of the 73 seats with 48.5% of the vote in the second round while the right wing list won more than 50% of the vote but only 31 seats. This time round there's no such anachronism, with the PS winning well over 50% of votes in the first round alone.
Lists who fail to get more than 10% of the vote in the first round are eliminated from the 2nd round, which leads to a lot of political manoeuvring in the two days following the first round. In a lot of towns this year, the support of the MoDems, the centrists, is up for grabs, and they appear to be handing it out on a place by place basis. In some towns they're supporting the left wing, while in others they're supporting the right. All very French...
And finally, most complicated of all is the method of allocating seats to lists, which as far as I can tell, makes sure that the 'winning' list, be it via an absolute majority in the 1st round or via a simple majority in the 2nd round, ends up with a clear majority of council members. No such thing as hung councils here...
Another double helping of football on Sunday. For a change I got to watch the returning San Heroes live on TV at home due to the unusual decision by Canal+ to put it on a channel we happen to get in our package, leaving me free to curse, shout and beat up the sofa while la bienheureuse hid in the kitchen. Which I did without inhibition as there was no change from recent league form, though playing on a ploughed field might have had something to do with it.
In the evening it was off to Gerland for the top of table clash against Bordeaux. Lively match, 6 goals, 9 yellow cards, result in the balance until OL scored their 4th in injury time. The one surprising thing was that there were no red cards, though OL's right back should certainly have been sent off following a nasty foul which put Bordeaux's best player out of the game. Reminiscent of the infamous incident at St Andrews...
Today is local elections day in France. The first round of voting for the municipal (city, town, village) councils takes place according to a highly complicated system, which I've attempted to explain in more detail in Life in Lyon. Basically, as far as I can work out, there are different rules according to the size of commune - villages of less than 3500 inhabitants can vote for individual councillors, whereas those in larger communities are restricted to voting for 'lists' of candidates, usually drawn up along party lines, but not always, sometimes alliances are formed, sometimes local disagreements lead to two lists from the same party, etc, etc. All very French...
In Lyon opinion polls give the Socialists and sitting mayor around 50%, which mean they could win outright in the first round. A second round of voting takes place in two weeks if no one list wins more than 50% of the vote in the first round, and apparently often leads to a 'rearrangement' of lists, as horse-trading and new cross-party alliances are formed. All very French...
Being EU citizens we have the right to vote in local elections as long as we have registered to vote at the local mairie. Which we haven't. So at the moment we are a disenfranchised couple...
That didn't stop us going out for dinner last night to try a newly opened restaurant just round the corner. La Table des Mômes is the 3rd incarnation of a dining establishment in that particular location since we've been here. Our quartier has the peculiarity that it's very busy during during the working week, but somewhat off the beaten track during the evening and weekends, so unless new restaurants quickly build a reputation, even if they are busy at lunch, they are empty in the evenings and don't often last long.
Anyway, very nice it was too, friendly proprietor, inexpensive, delicious food. Maybe it will last longer than its predecessors...
There were four possible emotional states come the end of yesterday evening - ecstatic, overjoyed, pissed off or suicidal. Never let it be said that football is a game of extremes, or of rational behaviour, come to that. And in the end, all was almost alright on the night. The main match finished as perfectly as I could have ever dreamed, but the supporting event ended in disappointment.
Choice of where and how to watch the match(es) was limited by Champions League broadcast rights in France, so we had little choice but to stay in and watch in separate rooms. La bienheureuse watched TV, keeping me updated with shrieks, groans and moans, while I, ahem, 'followed' the other match on the internet, likewise keeping her updated with cursing, shouting at the ref, and finally yells of triumph.
Meanwhile, the spring equinox approaches and the weather gets colder. Those greenhouse gases have a lot to answer to...
Watching English football in France has become a lot easier in recent years, at least if you subscribe to Canal+, which we don't, or frequent a 'British pub' with a UK satellite system. However, Champions league nights, or at least one of them, can be a bit more problematic, because the French broadcast rights are shared between TF1 (most popular terrestrial channel) and Canal+ (satellite chain). TF1 gets first choice and exclusive rights on the night they pick, which means only one match gets broadcast in France that night.
Yesterday was such a night, exacerbated by the fact that OL were playing in the dark side of Manchester. Thus the pubs, not surprisingly, were showing that match and were packed. There was a slim chance our local would have showed a second game on another screen, but given Barça's popularity in France, I figured Milan vs AFC wouldn't get a look in.
We thus had little choice but to stay at home. La bienheureuse watched TV coverage from the place of nightmares, while I 'followed' events in the San Siro, each following the other game via the shrieks, curses, groans and yells emanating from the other room. And all was almost alright on the night...
Endured a not entirely satisfactory cross-Channel jaunt over the weekend. Flight over Friday evening was half an hour late, affected by air traffic slot restrictions and high winds. Touch down at Stansted was remarkably smooth under the circumstances, but once on the ground I think the pilot had to use every inch of width in the runway. Not quite as scary as the Lufthansa plane on Saturday, but interesting nonetheless.
Saturday was hangover day. Personal one due to wine consumption (not excessive, I claim) on an empty stomach on arrival in Cambridge, and a collective Gooners' hangover from the trauma of the previous weekend which so nearly resulted in the loss of the unbeaten home record this season. Still, who knows how important that late equaliser may prove. Keep the faith...
To add to our woes, there was then the London traffic to endure. Closure of the northbound slip road on the Norf Circular resulted in a 3 hour trip back to Cambridge instead of the normal 80 minutes. The sooner all UK roads are subject to tolls the better, I say.
Finally, just to make sure it was a weekend I'd not willingly repeat, had to be up soon after 5am to catch an early flight home. That pain, at least, was self-inflicted and had the benefit of getting me back home to enjoy most of what was another warm, sunny, winter's day.
And a lovely weekend in Valmorel it was too. Unbroken sunshine and lovely pistes on Saturday, sunshine most of Sunday albeit with slightly more varied snow conditions. Even la bienheureuse's knee more or less held up for a day and a half.
