A weekend return trip to Blighty provided a satisfactory return, despite travel troubles and weather worries. Temperatures of -8C on Saturday morning had no impact on travel to the airport but once there I discovered that the brand new low-cost terminal was being closed because it was "too cold". Perhaps heating a large tin shed is problematic once external temperatures remain below freezing for over a week. There were however still two flights operating from the cold room, one of which was the one to Gatwick. The bonus of this was absolutely no queues at security and only short ones at passport control, and everybody was on the plane fifteen minutes before it was due to leave. And there we sat for the next 45 minutes while the engineers tried to unfreeze a fuel valve. And as the plane was refuelling the aircraft doors had to remain open. My plan of sitting near the front to allow a quick exit on arrival didn't seem so bright until one of the stewards got permission to hold the door almost closed.
In the end we touched down in Blighty only twenty minutes late, where I made another poor decision, namely to get the train to Victoria rather than London Bridge in an attempt to get to the pub for a swift pint before the game. It cost more and probably took longer because the Victoria line was closed for the weekend due to engineering works, resulting in chaos in the underground station of the same name. And I needn't have bothered trying to make the pub anyway because le grand chef et la petite beaucoup were going straight to the ground. Still, all was well that ended well and the seven goals smashed past the hapless Rovers were worth all the travel travails. And there was hot coffee and flapjack at half time to boot, courtesy of my genial hosts.
Back in Cambridge my ever accommodating hosts provided the usual tasty dinner, fine wine and convivial company. As the parsnip soup, sausage pasta and conversation were ingested and digested, the snow started falling outside. It continued until the small hours, prompting a regression into childhood, a double helping of TV goals, and a late night opera sing-a-long by le grand gooner. Perhaps the wine and house-strength G&T had something to do with it. Never does any harm to see a 21 gun salute in one day.
Six inches of snow on the ground threatened to make the journey home problematic, but snow tyres and a lift to the station from my generous host and trouble-free train journey got me to Stansted two hours before flight time. The boards showed my flight expected to take off nearly two hours late and the length of the queues for security suggested I might need all of the spare time. In the event it only took about an hour to get through to departures, which left nearly three hours to twiddle my thumbs before the flight eventually took off. Over two hours late I finally got home, just in time to kiss my petit ange goodnight. And, courtesy of my vrai ange, waiting for me was dinner and lunch for much of the week ahead and flapjack. Maybe I should go away more often...
06 février 2012
03 février 2012
Chilled
Indoors we met the nanny from downstairs this morning. Nice lady, if a little brutally honest about my French. "It isn't any better after ten years?" So soon la petite coquinette will start learning to speak the local lingo better than her father, and start learning to share toys and playtime with a couple of little copains. And papa will rediscover free time. By which I mean time to write, of course...
31 janvier 2012
Standing alone
Another visit to Monsieur le pédiatre, arranged for a vaccination she probably should have had last visit (do we suspect him of spinning out these visits for financial reasons?) last week saw la not-so-petite push the scales close to 10 kilos, and stand more than 20cm taller than when she was born. Standing is something she now does a lot of, able to stay upright more or less as long as she wants. We've even seen the odd involuntary solo step. Walking is only a few short paces away…
Otherwise it's been a quiet week at home and, as usual, a busy week at work for the travel-weary travailleuse. Another overnight trip to Germany five days ago, another to Milan today followed immediately by yet another to Brussels. Thankfully only one scheduled for next month. Meanwhile the house-husband got a small break from his less onerous duties on Saturday evening with a rare trip to Gerland to watch OL eventually overcome local new-boys Dijon to keep up their decent home form this season. It's away from home that les gones have struggled recently, and the three teams above them in the league all also won over the weekend.
It felt perishingly cold in the stadium on Saturday with the chilly north wind blowing down the neck, but with the temperature close to freezing it was positively balmy compared to the -11C they are forecasting for next Saturday. Pretty cold today with a maximum of about two degrees and the first snow of the winter on the ground in Lyon.
In the wider world, Monsieur le Président made another of his solo appearances on prime time TV to announce more measures to combat la crise financière. Headline grabber was the hike in VAT, the so-called TVA social, which seems a bit of a misnomer to me. The extra tax raised is supposedly to allow reductions in charges levied on businesses, which is supposed to help the recovery from recession. Or just puts more money in the pocket of businessmen, depending on how you look at it…
The increase won't be applied until October, after the elections, and the president's likely opponent and predicted winner, François Hollande has already said he won't apply it. Sarko still hasn't confirmed that he will be standing, and the elections are now less than twelve weeks away. Not quite sure why he's being so coy when everybody and his uncle knows he will. Who else have the ruling party got, after all?
Otherwise it's been a quiet week at home and, as usual, a busy week at work for the travel-weary travailleuse. Another overnight trip to Germany five days ago, another to Milan today followed immediately by yet another to Brussels. Thankfully only one scheduled for next month. Meanwhile the house-husband got a small break from his less onerous duties on Saturday evening with a rare trip to Gerland to watch OL eventually overcome local new-boys Dijon to keep up their decent home form this season. It's away from home that les gones have struggled recently, and the three teams above them in the league all also won over the weekend.
It felt perishingly cold in the stadium on Saturday with the chilly north wind blowing down the neck, but with the temperature close to freezing it was positively balmy compared to the -11C they are forecasting for next Saturday. Pretty cold today with a maximum of about two degrees and the first snow of the winter on the ground in Lyon.
In the wider world, Monsieur le Président made another of his solo appearances on prime time TV to announce more measures to combat la crise financière. Headline grabber was the hike in VAT, the so-called TVA social, which seems a bit of a misnomer to me. The extra tax raised is supposedly to allow reductions in charges levied on businesses, which is supposed to help the recovery from recession. Or just puts more money in the pocket of businessmen, depending on how you look at it…
The increase won't be applied until October, after the elections, and the president's likely opponent and predicted winner, François Hollande has already said he won't apply it. Sarko still hasn't confirmed that he will be standing, and the elections are now less than twelve weeks away. Not quite sure why he's being so coy when everybody and his uncle knows he will. Who else have the ruling party got, after all?
23 janvier 2012
Up and down
The downgrade of France's credit rating last week was greeted with bristling defiance in government circles (who are these rating agencies anyway?), and seized as another stick to beat Sarko with by all his opponents in the forthcoming elections. The presidential campaign is starting to heat up with the big day a mere three months away. Socialist candidate François Hollande has been battling dissent and criticism from within his own party and not doing himself any favours with rather woolly policies. Meanwhile Sarko and Le Pen fille have been rivalling each other in trying not to appear to be identifying with national icon Jeanne d'Arc, the girl who beat the English, on the occasion of ther recent 600th anniversary of her birth. Only 90 more days to endure…
Our own little icon continues to develop and grow. Hiding objects and herself under the furniture is now something of a favourite game and getting from all fours into a standing position without any external support is now a given. Morning naps have been jettisoned in favour of ratty lunches and longer afternoon naps, the latter not without occasional vociferous complaint. She might soon have to cope with sharing nap and play time once a week with two other young children soon. Our downstairs neighbours are looking for another family to share their nounou with on Wednesdays. Don't think sharing is in her vocabulary yet. On verra… Meanwhile an early start and late return meant her mother missed two days of the little angel's development last week with another overnight trip to the company motherland, and another one coming up this week.
The weather has been up and down too. Mild and damp, punctuated by a dry cold snap last week, all adding up to a bumper Alpine ski season. I wistfully gaze up while my daughter keeps me occupied at an altitude of about 60 metres. It was relatively mild when we crossed the river yesterday and saw what we thought were a flotilla of canoes coming downstream. Turns out they were accompanying the annual Rhône swim, 8km from Caluire to Gerland. A long swim in single figure water temperatures, even if it was swollen with rain and fast flowing...
Our own little icon continues to develop and grow. Hiding objects and herself under the furniture is now something of a favourite game and getting from all fours into a standing position without any external support is now a given. Morning naps have been jettisoned in favour of ratty lunches and longer afternoon naps, the latter not without occasional vociferous complaint. She might soon have to cope with sharing nap and play time once a week with two other young children soon. Our downstairs neighbours are looking for another family to share their nounou with on Wednesdays. Don't think sharing is in her vocabulary yet. On verra… Meanwhile an early start and late return meant her mother missed two days of the little angel's development last week with another overnight trip to the company motherland, and another one coming up this week.
The weather has been up and down too. Mild and damp, punctuated by a dry cold snap last week, all adding up to a bumper Alpine ski season. I wistfully gaze up while my daughter keeps me occupied at an altitude of about 60 metres. It was relatively mild when we crossed the river yesterday and saw what we thought were a flotilla of canoes coming downstream. Turns out they were accompanying the annual Rhône swim, 8km from Caluire to Gerland. A long swim in single figure water temperatures, even if it was swollen with rain and fast flowing...
10 janvier 2012
Ten
The new year was seen in quietly, with a half-bottle of champagne and some heartening TV watching, Match of the Day. On the second day of 2012 we waved a reluctant goodbye to grand-mère, and set off for the journey south. Three and a half relatively painless hours later we arrived chez Professor Margarita once more, and enjoyed yet another convivial evening with salmon and salad for dinner, and the Caiparinha Kid for additional company.
And after a reasonably smooth and uneventful flight across the Channel, we were home by 6pm the following day. La petite, as usual, forewent any sleep during the journey, too much going on to even consider closing her eyes, but was subsequently asleep within an hour of getting home. While drinking her milk. The whole biberon still went down on autopilot mode though…
Since then, life has resumed its normal course. La petite coquinette's new year resolution seems to be that one daytime siesta is quite enough for her, unless the second is in the pram during our habitual early evening winter promenades. La bienheureuse is overworked and travel weary - one night away from home already, a second coming up at the end of the week ('team-building' event) and another next week. Two whole days without seeing her little angel is tough.
Meanwhile, last weekend we celebrated a couple of anniversaries. The youngest member of the family reached 10 months (able to stand for a few seconds unsupported already), and her parents notched up ten whole years in France. How time flies...
And after a reasonably smooth and uneventful flight across the Channel, we were home by 6pm the following day. La petite, as usual, forewent any sleep during the journey, too much going on to even consider closing her eyes, but was subsequently asleep within an hour of getting home. While drinking her milk. The whole biberon still went down on autopilot mode though…
Since then, life has resumed its normal course. La petite coquinette's new year resolution seems to be that one daytime siesta is quite enough for her, unless the second is in the pram during our habitual early evening winter promenades. La bienheureuse is overworked and travel weary - one night away from home already, a second coming up at the end of the week ('team-building' event) and another next week. Two whole days without seeing her little angel is tough.
Meanwhile, last weekend we celebrated a couple of anniversaries. The youngest member of the family reached 10 months (able to stand for a few seconds unsupported already), and her parents notched up ten whole years in France. How time flies...
31 décembre 2011
Climbing high
And so ten days of eating, drinking and chasing baby began. In three short weeks, hesitant crawling had became high speed scampering, on either hands and knees or hands and feet depending on floor surface. Favourite game: sticking something forbidden in the mouth, waiting for maman or papa to say no before gleefully turning round and scampering off, not without a brief pause to see if anyone was giving chase. And in a few days granny's stairs had been clambered up and conquered. First serious tumble probably not too far away…
Meanwhile, the festive break took its normal course, give or take a baby consideration or two. Porridge breakfast and then an internationally flavoured Christmas lunch chez le beau-frère in Wales, with visitors from England, France and the USA and a bit of Lebanese home cooking mixed in with the usual turkey lunch. I wasn't so lucky with strikes on Boxing Day, the London Underground version putting paid to my hopes of a visit to the home of good football. The postponed match was played the following day, clashing with the clan visit, which naturally took precedence. A full house bar two dogs and a sister-in-law was treated to tartiflette and apple crumble before a teenage night out took precedence in turn and cut short the visit of the east Cheshire hordes. The anticipated cascade of presents for granddaughter, niece and little cousin respectively was of moderate proportions, even if la grand-mère kept her promise of not going overboard by presenting a whole box of toys before Christmas day. For use when petite-fille is visiting, therefore not Christmas presents, you understand…
The following day dawned bright but chilly. La soeur, le petit frère, la cuñada & I left three generations of S-ladies behind and ventured to Bickerton Hill for a not-so-brisk walk in the brisk wind. Momentary confusion about the way back to the car was eventually resolved by a GPS-equipped mobile. Technology sometimes has its uses, even if following our noses would probably have got us home too…
Two days before the final one of the year, the last of the visitors left, and la petite famille and la grand-mère made another afternoon visit to a former pub, current Welsh residence of uncle, aunt and two large canine cousins. Today, la bienheureuse et la belle-mère dragged themselves out in the rain for a sales shopping trip to Chester, leaving papa et fille to resume old habits…
Meanwhile, the festive break took its normal course, give or take a baby consideration or two. Porridge breakfast and then an internationally flavoured Christmas lunch chez le beau-frère in Wales, with visitors from England, France and the USA and a bit of Lebanese home cooking mixed in with the usual turkey lunch. I wasn't so lucky with strikes on Boxing Day, the London Underground version putting paid to my hopes of a visit to the home of good football. The postponed match was played the following day, clashing with the clan visit, which naturally took precedence. A full house bar two dogs and a sister-in-law was treated to tartiflette and apple crumble before a teenage night out took precedence in turn and cut short the visit of the east Cheshire hordes. The anticipated cascade of presents for granddaughter, niece and little cousin respectively was of moderate proportions, even if la grand-mère kept her promise of not going overboard by presenting a whole box of toys before Christmas day. For use when petite-fille is visiting, therefore not Christmas presents, you understand…
The following day dawned bright but chilly. La soeur, le petit frère, la cuñada & I left three generations of S-ladies behind and ventured to Bickerton Hill for a not-so-brisk walk in the brisk wind. Momentary confusion about the way back to the car was eventually resolved by a GPS-equipped mobile. Technology sometimes has its uses, even if following our noses would probably have got us home too…
Two days before the final one of the year, the last of the visitors left, and la petite famille and la grand-mère made another afternoon visit to a former pub, current Welsh residence of uncle, aunt and two large canine cousins. Today, la bienheureuse et la belle-mère dragged themselves out in the rain for a sales shopping trip to Chester, leaving papa et fille to resume old habits…
24 décembre 2011
Striking lucky
The weekend before Christmas, four days before we were due to fly to Blighty for a two week holiday, security personnel at some French airports decided to go on strike. For some reason Lyon airport was the worst hit (because or in spite of all the security staff being supplied by Brinks) and two days before our departure, the Stansted flight was cancelled. Big sigh of relief therefore, when the next day all flights were assured, thanks to the airport bringing in staff from "elsewhere" (unspecified). Bigger sigh of relief on Wednesday when the same thing happened, only change being that we were advised to arrive early and that our flight was leaving from the Air France terminal rather than the (newly rebuilt) low-cost terminal. So, we duly turned up at the airport (via tram, a surprisingly smooth journey with baby, pram and assorted luggage) three hours before departure, and joined the long queue to check in - long but fast moving queue, followed by another long but equally fast moving queue at security.
In the end we were through to the departure lounge a full two hours before the flight was due to leave. First time I've ever been through security at an airport and never seen anyone stopped for a hand luggage search. Airport authorities and the government claimed that security of passengers was fully assured. Hmm, not convinced, but not complaining either as it all led to a rather more pleasant journey than normal - Air France personnel at the gate meant the usual strict Easyjet hand baggage policy was ignored; and there was an air bridge to the plane rather than walk in the rain across the tarmac; and no ten minute slog from security to the departure gates as is the case at the new low-cost terminal.
We thus arrived in Cambridge in good spirits early in the evening, reintroduced the new all-crawling, all-climbing bundle of energy to Prof Margarita and Ms Beaucoup, put her to bed and then enjoyed a tasty salmon dinner and wine chez the convivial builder.
The next morning it was onwards and northwards as we left Cambridgeshire and head to Cheshire once more. Four hours later, unscheduled stop to calm screaming baby included, we arrived chez la grand-mère and the build-up to Christmas commenced in fine style with mince pies and roast ham welcoming us.
In the end we were through to the departure lounge a full two hours before the flight was due to leave. First time I've ever been through security at an airport and never seen anyone stopped for a hand luggage search. Airport authorities and the government claimed that security of passengers was fully assured. Hmm, not convinced, but not complaining either as it all led to a rather more pleasant journey than normal - Air France personnel at the gate meant the usual strict Easyjet hand baggage policy was ignored; and there was an air bridge to the plane rather than walk in the rain across the tarmac; and no ten minute slog from security to the departure gates as is the case at the new low-cost terminal.
We thus arrived in Cambridge in good spirits early in the evening, reintroduced the new all-crawling, all-climbing bundle of energy to Prof Margarita and Ms Beaucoup, put her to bed and then enjoyed a tasty salmon dinner and wine chez the convivial builder.
The next morning it was onwards and northwards as we left Cambridgeshire and head to Cheshire once more. Four hours later, unscheduled stop to calm screaming baby included, we arrived chez la grand-mère and the build-up to Christmas commenced in fine style with mince pies and roast ham welcoming us.
17 décembre 2011
Light visits
The 2011 version of la Fête des Lumières came and went with the usual crowded streets and a couple of visitors making it a crowd chez nous. A bit of a mixed bag this year - some good, some a little underwhelming. Perhaps the moderate impression comes from the fact that we didn't get out to see a great deal of the displays, partly due to the logistical difficulties that come attached to evening sorties with a 9 month old baby, partly because I rather thoughtlessly booked a flying trip to London last weekend. Which only caused me to miss one night, spent with only a cat for company as my usual hotel owners were all out partying. Nonetheless it was worth the trip because the 1-0 victory over the Toffees coincided with the 125th anniversary of the best football club in the world.Earlier in the week, visitor number two, la soeur, arrived to see the lights and her niece, not necessarily in that order of priority, on the night of the 8th. Her chauffeur was late arriving at the airport because he lingered to watch the opening night fireworks and trusted the Lyon airport website when it said the flight was twenty minutes late instead of early. Never mind, she got here in the end and the next night her brother treated her to a marathon grand tour of the main light sites in the town centre while the three generations of the other side of the family restricted themselves to a shorter look.
While I was away feeding a habit, the four ladies enjoyed a weekend of not doing any Christmas shopping or any lights viewing. A visit to the Marché de Noël was abandoned due to the crowds. Still, the visitors found their main entertainment without leaving home. On Sunday the traveller returned and did his duty by staying at home to look after baby while the three older ladies visited the park to view la Mythe de la Tête d'Or, one of the highlights of the Lumières.
By Tuesday the visitors had returned from whence they'd come, la bienheureuse was back at work and reluctantly out for dinner in the evening, which meant la petite had only papa for company. A return to her own bedroom met with mixed results. Decent daytime naps were somewhat counterbalanced by a half hour complaining session before she finally went to sleep in the evening. Similar story the next night, with la travailleuse out being quiz master at another work do, followed by a day when she wasn't keen on going to sleep at all. At lunch the situation was complicated by the fact that I was waiting for Monsieur le chauffagiste to turn up to service the boiler. By the time he phoned ninety minutes late to say he was on his way la petite coquinette had won the nap battle, and later in the evening it took an hour for her mother to finally get her to sleep. Two days later things seem to have returned to normal. Famous last words...
08 décembre 2011
Against the odds
While the rest of England laughs at Manchester, most of France is revelling in the unlikely victories of Lyon and Marseille in the Champions League. Needing to win in Dortmund, OM trailed 2-0 before pulling one back at the end of the first half and scoring twice in the last five minutes to win 3-2. OL's exploit the following night was even more spectacular, clawing back a 7 goal overall deficit to Ajax. The Dutch team duly lost 3-0 to Real Madrid, meaning OL had to win by at least 4 clear goals in Zagreb. And set about it by going 1-0 down before an astonishing second half saw them score six goals in 30 minutes to run out 7-1 winners. Predictably the feat in Croatia is being questioned (it seems mainly by the Dutch and English). Is scoring seven against ten men of a team that failed to gain a single point and conceded an average of three goals in their previous five games really that surprising…?
Meanwhile our own minor miracle is growing up fast. Full crawling, full investigative mode means she can cross the room in 10 seconds flat when something catches her eye. A favourite trick at the moment is to stand up in her cot looking mighty pleased with herself while a bedtime story is being read. We suspect the wide grin has little to do with her enjoyment of the story. She has acquired the knack of pulling herself upright on other items of furniture too, but not yet fully learned that if she grabs something off the sofa or table with both hands she might topple over backwards. Full time vigilance required. Fortunately, at the moment there is a spare pair of eyes, keeping a fond watch. La belle-mère is over and spending more time with her favourite grandchild, when her favourite beau-fils gives her time off from baking mince pies and other tasty nibbles, that is...
Meanwhile our own minor miracle is growing up fast. Full crawling, full investigative mode means she can cross the room in 10 seconds flat when something catches her eye. A favourite trick at the moment is to stand up in her cot looking mighty pleased with herself while a bedtime story is being read. We suspect the wide grin has little to do with her enjoyment of the story. She has acquired the knack of pulling herself upright on other items of furniture too, but not yet fully learned that if she grabs something off the sofa or table with both hands she might topple over backwards. Full time vigilance required. Fortunately, at the moment there is a spare pair of eyes, keeping a fond watch. La belle-mère is over and spending more time with her favourite grandchild, when her favourite beau-fils gives her time off from baking mince pies and other tasty nibbles, that is...
01 décembre 2011
Crawling time
December the first and it's 16C in Lyon today. The autumn just gone has gone down as one of the warmest on record, and winter is starting the same way. Not good news for the ski stations, which have all been forced to delay opening. Lovely sunshine to welcome la belle-mère though, over for her annual lights trip and her monthly granddaughter fix.
It's been a quiet week on the home front since our return from Blighty. Things aren't so slow at work for la travailleuse despite no trips abroad. Meeting after meeting while work waits to be done back at the desk. That's 'reorganisation' for you. She did get in some quality one-to-one time with son petit ange over the weekend though, as papa left the girls at home for another overnight flying visit to London and Cambridge. A local derby with the Cottagers in the big smoke could have gone better but could have been worse too, while the welcome at my habitual hotel was as warm as usual.
In my absence, la petite was practising her crawling, getting back into a sitting position and showing reluctance to sleep during the day. The latter behaviour continued on Monday when mama was back at work. Half an hour to get to sleep in the morning, followed by a two hour nap/no-nap battle with papa at lunchtime. No prizes for guessing who won. However, the next day she was back to her sweet cooperative self. We put it down to that 8-9 month phase when baby realises she's an independent person and not merely an extension of her parents. Or maybe just another tooth coming through.
It's been a quiet week on the home front since our return from Blighty. Things aren't so slow at work for la travailleuse despite no trips abroad. Meeting after meeting while work waits to be done back at the desk. That's 'reorganisation' for you. She did get in some quality one-to-one time with son petit ange over the weekend though, as papa left the girls at home for another overnight flying visit to London and Cambridge. A local derby with the Cottagers in the big smoke could have gone better but could have been worse too, while the welcome at my habitual hotel was as warm as usual.
In my absence, la petite was practising her crawling, getting back into a sitting position and showing reluctance to sleep during the day. The latter behaviour continued on Monday when mama was back at work. Half an hour to get to sleep in the morning, followed by a two hour nap/no-nap battle with papa at lunchtime. No prizes for guessing who won. However, the next day she was back to her sweet cooperative self. We put it down to that 8-9 month phase when baby realises she's an independent person and not merely an extension of her parents. Or maybe just another tooth coming through.
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