Well, we switched our lights off on Friday evening, and the Basilique de Fourvière illuminations also went off for an hour, but not sure many of our voisins did the same. Power consummation in France went down by just over 1%, which is apparently 800 Megawatt, or about 10 million average light bulbs. Hmm, 1 bulb for every 6th person in France. Respectable? Not very...
As you can tell, it's been a quiet week. The good weather fled several days ago, leaving only internationull football, and a changeable spring. The most exciting event of the weekend was the purchase of some nifty forked flowerpots, which fit over the ornamental railings outside our front windows. We can now amuse ourselves watching plants grow. Better than watching paint dry, anyway.
Actually there was one other bit of mild excitement the other day, when we were subject to an attempted street con involving a fake gold ring. Not quite sure how the arnaque was supposed to pan out, but the perpertrator took fright after we enlisted the aid of another pair of passers-by, and we escaped with wallets intact. Hmm, see...? I seem to have started echoing the complaints of a 14 year-old niece - 'nothing exciting happens'...
30 mars 2009
23 mars 2009
Balls, round and burning
Lyon is basking today in an eleventh day of unbroken sunshine. Even on Friday, when the chilly Mistral was whistling down the Rhône valley, the sky remained blue. And apart from the weather, not much else to report. Quiet weekend, with the usual theme. Cheering day Saturday, apart from the frustration of finding a way to watch my chosen match of the round ball variety. Pubs all showing so-called football of the egg-chasing variety, so had to resort to undernet methods and only managed to find a decent stream in the second half. Results elsewhere more than made up for it though...
Yesterday it was live football once more. A visit to Gerland to witness a much-needed home win, which ended a sequence of four successive defeats and just keeps OL afloat at the top. Amazingly, it was only les gones second home league win in more than four months.
The match was notable for a fans' tribute to Juninho at the start, and for the coach trying out a novel formation - 2 central midfielders in the middle of defence, and a wide midfielder as centre forward. Up to a point it worked in the first half, but once Sochaux started having a go in the second, the defence was all over the place and had keeper Lloris to thank for a series of stunning saves.
Yesterday it was live football once more. A visit to Gerland to witness a much-needed home win, which ended a sequence of four successive defeats and just keeps OL afloat at the top. Amazingly, it was only les gones second home league win in more than four months.
The match was notable for a fans' tribute to Juninho at the start, and for the coach trying out a novel formation - 2 central midfielders in the middle of defence, and a wide midfielder as centre forward. Up to a point it worked in the first half, but once Sochaux started having a go in the second, the defence was all over the place and had keeper Lloris to thank for a series of stunning saves.
19 mars 2009
La crise, la grève, le soleil
Today sees the second journée nationale de mobilisation in France since the turn of the year. To protest against la crise financière, the government's response to it, job losses, educational reforms, and anything else you can think of. National newspaper Libération is carrying a poll today showing that nearly three quarters of the population is sympathetic to the day of strikes/action. Support on the ground appears somewhat less widespread, if you believe the Paris-centric national press anyway. The Paris metro and buses are apparently running more or less normally, more trains and TGVs are running than predicted and fewer Parisian traffic jams than normal were reported this morning.
Slightly different story elsewhere. Most other regional transport systems are significantly affected by the strike. In Lyon for instance, only about three in four metros and fewer than half the buses and trams are running. Most schools here are also out for the day, as evidenced by le gosse au dessus going slightly stir crazy earlier this morning. For university teachers it's carry on as before. ie the strike which has been going on since the new year to protest about university reforms continues.
The unions seem to have the weather on their side for the planned demonstrations all over the country. Most of France has been bathed in glorious sunshine for the last week, and it's forecast to continue over the weekend. Spring and discontent are in the air...
The other crisis, in the Caribbean, was seemingly resolved last month, when the government, employers and strike leaders in Guadaloupe and Martinique finally hammered out deals (different ones on each island). The unrest has now moved to La Réunion. As far as I can tell the main result of the Caribbean crisis was a 200 euro increase in monthly salary for the low-paid, part of which will be funded by the government, part by the employers, and a price reduction of a range of staple products. Remains to be seen how long the fragile peace lasts though. The main strike leader in Guadaloupe has since been charged with inciting racial hatred for comments made about the béké, the ruling white class, during the dispute...
Slightly different story elsewhere. Most other regional transport systems are significantly affected by the strike. In Lyon for instance, only about three in four metros and fewer than half the buses and trams are running. Most schools here are also out for the day, as evidenced by le gosse au dessus going slightly stir crazy earlier this morning. For university teachers it's carry on as before. ie the strike which has been going on since the new year to protest about university reforms continues.
The unions seem to have the weather on their side for the planned demonstrations all over the country. Most of France has been bathed in glorious sunshine for the last week, and it's forecast to continue over the weekend. Spring and discontent are in the air...
The other crisis, in the Caribbean, was seemingly resolved last month, when the government, employers and strike leaders in Guadaloupe and Martinique finally hammered out deals (different ones on each island). The unrest has now moved to La Réunion. As far as I can tell the main result of the Caribbean crisis was a 200 euro increase in monthly salary for the low-paid, part of which will be funded by the government, part by the employers, and a price reduction of a range of staple products. Remains to be seen how long the fragile peace lasts though. The main strike leader in Guadaloupe has since been charged with inciting racial hatred for comments made about the béké, the ruling white class, during the dispute...
16 mars 2009
A slippery slope
A new experience last week. A visit to an optician, who confirmed what I already knew - I'm getting old. At least my eyes are. In fact he said my eyesight was normal for my age and surprisingly advised that I get a 10 euro pair of reading glasses from a pharmacy, rather than a 200 euro prescription pair from an optician. La bienheureuse still has perfect eyesight. To go with everything else.
The weekend saw us head off into the mountains for the annual ASRA winter sports event. Having been a bit under the weather during the week, and still suffering from a dodgy knee, la bienheureuse decided not to ski, which was unfortunate because the snow was as perfect as the weather. The big race this year was delayed till the afternoon to allow the ESF organisers to attend a morning service in commemoration of a local guide killed in an avalanche earlier in the week. We thus enjoyed a fine barbecue banquet on the piste before attacking the slalom course.
And attack it, I did, determined to improve on last year's time. Emboldened by the good snow, off I went, enthusiasm obscuring the fact that 50 odd skiers before me had scoured and rutted the course. I hit the steep section, la mur, a little too fast, and my arse hit the snow. Managed to get back up fairly quickly, continued without missing a gate, and skied the rest of the course rather well, even if I do say so myself.
Time: faster than a couple of previous attempts but 7 seconds slower than last year's best. Ah well, there's always next time, and consolation was found in the football results later in the evening, even if an exhaustive search of the bars in Montalbert only turned up rugby. Did eventually get a barman to turn over for the last five minutes, and last two goals, once the egg-chasers had finished.
More glorious sunshine on Sunday dragged me onto the slopes early. While la bienheureuse wiled away the morning in cafés, I enjoyed a lovely morning's skiing, finishing at lunchtime so that we could get off early and make it back to Lyon in time to go and watch OL. We shouldn't have bothered. La série noire continues, fourth defeat in a row, a fairly abject one at that. The big crunch later in the evening ended with Marseille beating PSG, meaning that Lyon stay top of the table, but only by one point from both the other big two...
The weekend saw us head off into the mountains for the annual ASRA winter sports event. Having been a bit under the weather during the week, and still suffering from a dodgy knee, la bienheureuse decided not to ski, which was unfortunate because the snow was as perfect as the weather. The big race this year was delayed till the afternoon to allow the ESF organisers to attend a morning service in commemoration of a local guide killed in an avalanche earlier in the week. We thus enjoyed a fine barbecue banquet on the piste before attacking the slalom course.
And attack it, I did, determined to improve on last year's time. Emboldened by the good snow, off I went, enthusiasm obscuring the fact that 50 odd skiers before me had scoured and rutted the course. I hit the steep section, la mur, a little too fast, and my arse hit the snow. Managed to get back up fairly quickly, continued without missing a gate, and skied the rest of the course rather well, even if I do say so myself.
Time: faster than a couple of previous attempts but 7 seconds slower than last year's best. Ah well, there's always next time, and consolation was found in the football results later in the evening, even if an exhaustive search of the bars in Montalbert only turned up rugby. Did eventually get a barman to turn over for the last five minutes, and last two goals, once the egg-chasers had finished.
More glorious sunshine on Sunday dragged me onto the slopes early. While la bienheureuse wiled away the morning in cafés, I enjoyed a lovely morning's skiing, finishing at lunchtime so that we could get off early and make it back to Lyon in time to go and watch OL. We shouldn't have bothered. La série noire continues, fourth defeat in a row, a fairly abject one at that. The big crunch later in the evening ended with Marseille beating PSG, meaning that Lyon stay top of the table, but only by one point from both the other big two...
11 mars 2009
A small adventure
Wednesday: la bienheureuse jets off to Stockholm for a meeting the following day.
Thursday: I set off to join her. I get as far as the garage, turn the key in the ignition and... rien. Almost nothing, anyway. The motor makes a valiant attempt to turn over before giving up. Dead battery. Hmm... Two and a half hours before the flight leaves, an hour's journey to Grenoble airport, the bus - if there was one - has already left. In a closed courtyard with no-one around to ask to give me a bump start...
Fortunately, our friendly local garagiste is 20 metres from the apartment, 150 metres from the garage. I trot down and one of the mechanics accompanies me back to the car with portable jump starter. Merci beaucoup monsieur. I make it to the airport an hour before take-off, uttering fervent prayers that the battery has charged sufficiently to start again in 5 days...
Thus commences a long journey. Low cost 'charge-em for everything' airline flight to Stansted, then another one to 'Stockholm' Vasteras, in reality 110km north of the Swedish capital. Find the bus only to realise I've left the printout of online ticket booking at home. Not my finest travelling hour. Purchase another ticket, 80 minute journey, arrive at Stockholm central bus terminal at 1030pm, 2 minute walk to the hotel, collect key-card from desk just as la bienheureuse walks back in from dinner. Perfect timing, easy journey, even allowing for flat car battery, 1 hour drive to airport, 2 flights, 4 hour wait at Stansted, 1 forgotten bus ticket and a 80 minute bus trip.
Friday: Stockholm is cold and grey. Attractive city though, built on an archipelago. Lots of water, lots of ice. We spend the day wandering around sightseeing. The old town (Gamla Stan), parliament, royal palace, break for coffee, across the frozen water to climb the hill for a view back across the city. Stereotypical lunch of herrings and meatballs, couple of hours back in the hotel to warm up, and another wander to gape at the city hall, back along the waterfront to Skeppsholmen, a small island packed with museums, and home again. Dinner in the hotel restaurant, too cold to venture out again.
Saturday: eventually manage to printout bus ticket booking, and then take the metro out east and walk to Djurgården, an island with large park and more museums. We only have till about 2pm so decide to visit Skansen, an open air museum, which includes a zoo and various transplanted buildings and villages from various Swedish areas and eras. Have lunch in a café with a multitude of toddlers before heading back to central Stockholm, where we go our seperate ways. La bienheureuse takes the express train to the main airport, while I catch a bus to Skavsta, another airport, 100km to the southwest this time. Arrive, have a coffee, the flight is called so I go through passport control only to discover I've left my jacket - containing credit cards and camera - the other side. Oops. Fortunately nice Swedish immigration policeman lets me go back and collect it. Another near mishap to add to a lengthening list...
La bienheureuse goes straight back to Lyon, while I break my journey in Blighty. Arrive chez the Margarita man and spend a quiet evening cuddled up with H while the master of the house is out wining and dining.
Sunday: the JeB comes round for a slap up breakfast, then Prof Mag gives me a lift to the station. Enjoy an uplifting experience and 3 great goals at my footballing Mecca before returning to Cambridge. Cycle to the pub for an evening enjoying real ale, liver and bacon with JeB, Marge and a beer brewing flight engineer.
Monday: Prof Mag kindly gives me another lift to the station for an 8am train to Stansted. Journey back to Grenoble goes smoothly, only irritation the triumphant jingle that gets played on landing, announcing 'yet another on-time arrival for Europe's most punctual airline.' Get in the car, cross fingers, turn key...
Motor struggles to turn over but fires! Hallelujah. Drive home through snow, hail, rain and sunshine. Highly enjoyable few days, overall.
Thursday: I set off to join her. I get as far as the garage, turn the key in the ignition and... rien. Almost nothing, anyway. The motor makes a valiant attempt to turn over before giving up. Dead battery. Hmm... Two and a half hours before the flight leaves, an hour's journey to Grenoble airport, the bus - if there was one - has already left. In a closed courtyard with no-one around to ask to give me a bump start...
Fortunately, our friendly local garagiste is 20 metres from the apartment, 150 metres from the garage. I trot down and one of the mechanics accompanies me back to the car with portable jump starter. Merci beaucoup monsieur. I make it to the airport an hour before take-off, uttering fervent prayers that the battery has charged sufficiently to start again in 5 days...
Thus commences a long journey. Low cost 'charge-em for everything' airline flight to Stansted, then another one to 'Stockholm' Vasteras, in reality 110km north of the Swedish capital. Find the bus only to realise I've left the printout of online ticket booking at home. Not my finest travelling hour. Purchase another ticket, 80 minute journey, arrive at Stockholm central bus terminal at 1030pm, 2 minute walk to the hotel, collect key-card from desk just as la bienheureuse walks back in from dinner. Perfect timing, easy journey, even allowing for flat car battery, 1 hour drive to airport, 2 flights, 4 hour wait at Stansted, 1 forgotten bus ticket and a 80 minute bus trip.
Friday: Stockholm is cold and grey. Attractive city though, built on an archipelago. Lots of water, lots of ice. We spend the day wandering around sightseeing. The old town (Gamla Stan), parliament, royal palace, break for coffee, across the frozen water to climb the hill for a view back across the city. Stereotypical lunch of herrings and meatballs, couple of hours back in the hotel to warm up, and another wander to gape at the city hall, back along the waterfront to Skeppsholmen, a small island packed with museums, and home again. Dinner in the hotel restaurant, too cold to venture out again.
Saturday: eventually manage to printout bus ticket booking, and then take the metro out east and walk to Djurgården, an island with large park and more museums. We only have till about 2pm so decide to visit Skansen, an open air museum, which includes a zoo and various transplanted buildings and villages from various Swedish areas and eras. Have lunch in a café with a multitude of toddlers before heading back to central Stockholm, where we go our seperate ways. La bienheureuse takes the express train to the main airport, while I catch a bus to Skavsta, another airport, 100km to the southwest this time. Arrive, have a coffee, the flight is called so I go through passport control only to discover I've left my jacket - containing credit cards and camera - the other side. Oops. Fortunately nice Swedish immigration policeman lets me go back and collect it. Another near mishap to add to a lengthening list...
La bienheureuse goes straight back to Lyon, while I break my journey in Blighty. Arrive chez the Margarita man and spend a quiet evening cuddled up with H while the master of the house is out wining and dining.
Sunday: the JeB comes round for a slap up breakfast, then Prof Mag gives me a lift to the station. Enjoy an uplifting experience and 3 great goals at my footballing Mecca before returning to Cambridge. Cycle to the pub for an evening enjoying real ale, liver and bacon with JeB, Marge and a beer brewing flight engineer.
Monday: Prof Mag kindly gives me another lift to the station for an 8am train to Stansted. Journey back to Grenoble goes smoothly, only irritation the triumphant jingle that gets played on landing, announcing 'yet another on-time arrival for Europe's most punctual airline.' Get in the car, cross fingers, turn key...
Motor struggles to turn over but fires! Hallelujah. Drive home through snow, hail, rain and sunshine. Highly enjoyable few days, overall.
03 mars 2009
Nul weekend
A weekend of matches nuls, as they'd say here. Score draw on the weather front - beautiful sunny Saturday, followed by cloud and rain on Sunday. We took advantage of the good weather on Saturday afternoon with a walk down the river to the park, though then spoilt it somewhat by spending two hours indoors in a bar in the Cité Internationale watching a real match nul. No joy, no goals, no break in the dismal sequence of nil-nils. We had intended to go and watch the film that won all the Oscars, but after an early dinner decided instead to spend the evening in the comforting confines of home.
A Sunday of minor chores was ended with a trip to Gerland in the pouring rain. Equally dire match nul, though we did get to see two goals, the last one coming at the wrong end in second half injury time. A blow to OL's hitherto serene progress at the top and the lead is down to four points. And star striker Benzema went off with a bruised hip to end a somewhat nul week for him, after reportedly having a shouting match with team mates in the dressing room at half time of the game against Barca. Apparently he'd been playing too selfishly. Trying too hard to display his talents in the Champions League shop window no doubt...
A Sunday of minor chores was ended with a trip to Gerland in the pouring rain. Equally dire match nul, though we did get to see two goals, the last one coming at the wrong end in second half injury time. A blow to OL's hitherto serene progress at the top and the lead is down to four points. And star striker Benzema went off with a bruised hip to end a somewhat nul week for him, after reportedly having a shouting match with team mates in the dressing room at half time of the game against Barca. Apparently he'd been playing too selfishly. Trying too hard to display his talents in the Champions League shop window no doubt...
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