Category Archives: France

La Saint-Valentin

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As my 9-year-old nephew in Sydney pointed out to me yesterday when I mentioned Saint Valentine’s Day to him, the “Saint” has disappeared from Valentine’s Day in English. Francophiles may wonder why it’s “la” Saint-Valentin and not “le”. Well, like all feast days, it’s short for “la fête du Saint-Valentin”.  Hence the feminine for what looks like a masculine.

Back to the day itself. Relationnel, who is a real romantic, arrived with a bunch of roses at lunchtime. He had taken the afternoon off so we decided to go to a couple of depôt-vente and find some things to furnish and decorate Closerie Falaiseau, our new house in Blois. The temperatures have risen since our previous excursion last Saturday so my hands and feet weren’t completely frozen this time. There is a website called www.troc.com that now has 190 second-hand shops in France so we chose one about three-quarters of an hour from the centre of Paris in the western suburb of Orgeval.

We found quite a few goodies, including a coffee grinder, a long-handled bed-warming pan, a set of pewter jugs, a coffee pot, some scales and a Moustier fruit bowl in troc.com and a new expresso/cappuccino machine and a steam iron in another place called Cash Converter, also a chain, which has a lot of musical instruments, hi-fi equipment, small appliances and other household goods. We learnt that you can see the items for sale at troc.com on-line and even reserve them. We’re going to see if we can get some dining-room chairs that way.

We got back to Paris just in time for dinner at La Bastide Odéon, which specialises in cuisine from the south of France. As we were walking along towards our destination, I suddenly saw a restaurant which looked as if it had towels rolled up on the tables outside.  How very odd! I was trying to imagine what sort of Valentine’s celebration was in the offing there when Relationnel said they were blankets for people to sit outside. The blankets even have the name of the restaurant on them – Le Comptoir!

Our restaurant didn’t have a terrace with rolled-up blankets so we sat upstairs.  Relationnel thought he had discovered a new venue but in fact we had eaten there once before with friends from Canberra and enjoyed it. The tables are fairly spread out but there was a lot of noise in the room next door which we weren’t too thrilled with. At one stage, two of the people came out and Relationnel immediately recognised Robert Badinter, famous in French history for having successfully abolished the death penalty on 9th October 1981. After that, we didn’t mind the noise!

They had an excellent set menu for Valentine’s Day at 49 euros per person, starting with champagne and a little sweet pepper (piquillo) stuffed with goat’s milk cheese (very tasty). It was followed by a choice of two entrées – creamy scrambled eggs with black truffle or carpaccio of sea scallops with spicy avocado, sauce vierge (which just means olive oil) and horns of plenty (excellent) – and a choice of two main courses – grilled fillet of bass with candied lemon, creamy risotto and sea shell bouillon (which we didn’t take) or roast rack of lamb (extraordinarily tender), mutton stew gravy (sounds better in French – jus de navarin), eggplant caviar and candied tomatoes (they didn’t look very candied to me).

For dessert, you could have a soft-centred chocolate cake (moelleux au chocolat) with chestnuts and condensed milk ice-cream (all very tasty) or candied pineapple with lavendar honey, fiadone (a Corsican soft cheese dessert) and brown sugar biscuit ice-cream (speculoos) (Relationnel’s choice).

A bottle of wine per couple was also included in the menu. We could choose from two wines – a pouilly fumé sauvignon from the Loire Valley or a côtes du Rhône. We took the red, which we regretted afterwards – not because we didn’t like it, but because it was 15° !!!

As we walked past Le Comptoir on the way back to the car, we noticed that all the outside tables were taken and everyone had their blankets around their knees.

La Bastide Odéon, 7 rue Corneille, 75006 Paris, tel 01 43 26 03 65, contact@bastideodeon.com, www.bastideodeon.com, M° Odéon lines 10 and 4, RER Luxembourg, open every day. 
 

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No Oysters on Sunday

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I think our cold snap this year has even reached the news in Australia. February is always the coldest month in Paris and we usually have a couple of snow falls during the winter but the temperatures rarely go below freezing. But we’ve just had two weeks in Paris with minus 2 or 3 degrees throughout the day and much colder temperatures at night.  We’d actually been having a very mild winter so the cold snap took everyone by surprise.

Brainy Pianist alias Michelin Man

Brainy Pianist, who desperately wanted to see some snow, was searching for somewhere to go and I suggested Strasbourg so he and Thoughtful went there last weekend by train. It didn’t snow in Strasbourg – at minus 12°, it was too cold – but they saw a lot of snow on the way. Brainy Pianist, looking very much like the Michelin man, was dressed in long johns, two pairs of jeans, 2 T-shirts, 2 jumpers, 2 pairs of socks, a neck warmer and a scarf, two beanies, one with ear flaps, and rabbit-fur lined gloves he’d had the good sense to pick up in Rome after he read my post! He hadn’t thought to take a second pair of gloves, but Thoughtful did! Plus they were both wearing anoraks of course.

Thoughtful alias The Terrorist

It’s snowed in Paris since, to Brainy Pianist’s delight because he missed the first snow fall when he was in Strasbourg, but there wasn’t a lot so it didn’t stay on the ground for long. The Palais Royal Gardens looked very pretty though and the water in the fountains next to the Glass Pyramids at the Louvre was all frozen over. But the cold has persisted.

In winter, I usually just wear wool mix trousers, socks, long-sleeved shirt and wool mix jacket when I go out, with ankle boots, parka with a hood, long scarf to keep the hood in place and rabbit-fur lined gloves. When it’s minus something, I add a pair of tights. My hands get very cold though. I have a pair of thin silk gloves somewhere that have obviously disappeared at the moment, just when I need them!

Me, not Black Cat

Black Cat turned up for afternoon tea yesterday in a summer dress with a cardigan over it, thick tights, long boots, coat, hat, scarf and gloves.  Looking very chic as usual. She’s even got special iPhone gloves so you don’t have to get freezing hands when you answer your phone. I need some too. She immediately took off the cardigan because our apartment is overheated, usually 23°C with the radiators off because of the hot water pipes from the central heating. The water has to be hot so that the apartments on the lower floors are sufficiently heated (we’re on the fourth floor). At her place, though, they have electric heaters, which are expensive to run, so she always has to keep a jumper on. Plus her Australian flat mate is always opening the windows and turning off the radiators and forgetting to turn them back on, particularly in the morning.

Directoire chest of drawers

Yesterday was the coldest I’ve been in a long time. We went off to a dépôt-vente in Nogent sur Marne looking for more furniture for the house in Blois. It was minus 2° both inside and out! I don’t know how the people can work there. We bought a directoire chest of drawers with a marble top. Despite the gloves, my hands were completely frozen by the time we got back into the car which, being a Volvo, doesn’t heat up very quickly. You’d think the Swedish could do better than that! Our Renault Scenic is almost immediately warm.

I went to the market this morning to buy fish and eggs. We bought everything else from the supermarket yesterday because last week’s fruit and vegetables were damaged because of the freezing temperatures and the ground’s so hard now you can’t dig anything up. The fish don’t seem to mind the cold. I felt sorry for the fish mongers though. They have to clean and gut the fish. No oyster man. Last week we ate inferior “fines de claires” instead of “spéciales” so this time, we decided not to have oysters on Sunday. Sigh.

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Freezing cold is relative!

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Place Stanislas, Nancy

As I’ve already mentioned, when a Queenslander says they’re freezing cold, it means that it’s 15°C at night and all the windows are open (can’t close the windows! gotta have fresh air, you know). When the French say it’s freezing, it actually is zero degrees outside. All the windows are closed and the heating’s up as high as it’ll go. It’s all very relative, isn’t it?

A couple of years ago in February, we decided to spend a week in Lorraine, best known for its quiches of course, but also the home of Nancy, one of France’s best examples of art nouveau.  We found an 18th century gîte to stay in about 15 minutes out of the city. It was a bit bigger than we needed (4 bedrooms) but it looked lovely from the photos.

When we got there, it had been snowing and it all looked very pretty. Inside, however, I immediately noticed the cold but sometimes it takes a day or so for a gîte to heat up, especially if no one has been in it for the last week or so. The bedroom layout upstairs was a bit strange – the only en-suite had two single beds, not exactly our idea of a romantic get-away.

The hoped-for warming-up never happened. The kitchen reached a steady 15°, the living room reached a ceiling of 19° and sometimes 20° when the fire was going full blast and we managed 17 or 18° in the en-suite bedroom where we ended up putting a double mattress on top of the two single beds so I wouldn’t have to freeze in the middle of the night going down two steps and across the unheated landing to the other bathroom.

Porte Héré, Nancy

But the coldest place in the house was the corridor between the kitchen and the living room. No matter how high we put the one radiator, it never went above 8°C. Now, 8°C indoors is cold by any standards. We later discovered that the corridor used to be a street running between two houses, one containing the present kitchen, downstairs bathroom and upstairs bedrooms and the other containing what are now the living room, dining room and entrance. It had been covered with a roof to join the two houses together but the question of heating had obviously not been taken into consideration.

Villa Majorelle, rue Louis

When I mentioned to the owner that guests should be warned about the lack of heat, she said huffily that it was the country, after all, what did I expect? Well, certainly not 8°C. We had another problem in the en-suite bathroom, where cold water started to drip directly over the toilet during the night. The owner’s husband came to have to a look then brought a plumber. It turned out that it was caused by condensation due to the fact that we were heating the bathroom (well, wouldn’t you?) when the rest of the upstairs floor was cold!

Rue Félix Faure

That did not however detract from the beauty of Nancy, starting with the very beautiful Place Stanislas, its old quarter with the 12th century Porte de la Craffe and 16th century ducal palace, its 18th century cathedral, its turn-of-the-century Basilica inspired by Sacré Coeur in Montmartre,  and all the lovely art nouveau buildings in the Quartier Saint-Léon, especially Villa Majorelle. The Musée de l’Ecole de Nancy is one of the few museums dedicated to a school of art and is a definite must.

Musée de l’École de Nancy, 36-38, rue du Sergent Blandan, 54000 Nancy, Wednesday to Sunday 10 am to 6 pm
 
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Sunday’s Travel Photos – Chenonceau

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Chenonceau castle is one of the 3 Big C’s in the Loire Valley – Chenonceau, Chambord and Cheverny – and it’s definitely my favourite. A ladies’ castle, built in 1513 by Katherine Briçonnet, decorated by Diane de Poitiers, extended by Catherine de Médicis,  and saved by Louise Dupin during the French Revolution!

We have discovered a wonderful cycle path that runs behind the castle and definitely gives you the best view. On leaving the castle, take the main road in the direction of Montrichard, take the first turn on your right and just over the bridge, you’ll see a path on your right that runs along the south bank of the Cher river. You may have to get off once or twice, but you’ll be able to get through and continue over to the other side of the château. These photos were taken in May, a perfect time to visit.

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Three More Reasons to Live in Blois

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There we were, two Aussies, a Southern Californian and two Frogs, standing in a street in Blois, talking ten to the dozen in French and English, just opposite a beautiful Renaissance building called Hôtel d’Alluye built in 1508. Next to us, there was this street sweeper with one of those plastic birch brooms they have here. And he started telling us, in basic English at first, then in French once he saw we all understood, about the history and architecture of the building. He really knew his stuff! So friendly and hospitable!

The owner was Florimond Robertet and he was the treasurer for three kings – Charles VIII, whose emblem was the blazing sword, Louis XII with his porcupine and François Ier symbolised by the salamander. Behind the façade is a courtyard with Italian-style galleries. We’ll visit it next time.

We had just come from lunch at L’Appart’ Thé, which is a double play on words. Appart’ is short for “appartement“, “thé” means “tea” and combined, you have “aparté” which means a private conversation. And that’s exactly what it is, an appartment converted into a very cosy place to have lunch, brunch, morning or afternoon tea. When you walk inside, the American-style kitchen is right in front of you and there are lots of comfy chairs and tables inside and out. Since there were six of us, we had a table upstairs.

If I remember correctly, the dishes on the slate perched on the fireplace included veal stew, lentils and duck fillets and zucchini and goat’s cheese quiche, all at about 9.50 euros. The wine list was written on a bottle label and we could choose wine by the glass. We mainly went for local cheverny which comes in red and white. The white is mainly sauvignon with sometimes a bit of chardonnay or menu pineau and the red is gamay and pinot noir.

I’m not sure what the others had for desert (maybe they can help me out!), but I had a very delicious café gourmand for 6 euros with panna cotta, moelleux au chocolat with French custard, a raisin biscuit called a palet solognot which is a speciality of Chambord, a cupcake, a piece of “cake” which is a French version of fruit cake and a heart-shaped shortbread biscuit. After that, we were ready to face the cold!

Our next stop was Troc de l’Île, a dépot-vente on the outskirts of Blois which, despite the cold –  there’s no heating in these enormous places – was great fun. We came away with an antique oak wardrobe, matching bed and bedside tables, a sideboard and a very large wicker basket to put the firewood in. Not to mention very cold feet and hands from lashing it all onto the trailer in the Siberian wind.

When we got it all to the new house, where the current owners are providing storage for all this new furniture and other bits and pieces until we sign on March 16th, there was lovely hot tea – and palets solognots – waiting for us! And that night, we went back to stay at one of our two favourite B&Bs in France – Le Moulin du Mesnil.

 
Hôtel Alluye 8 Rue Saint-Honoré 41000 Blois 
L’Appart’ thé, 12-14 rue Basse, 41000 Blois, 02 54 74 26 73
Troc de l’île 144bis avenue de Châteaudun, 41000 Blois, open 10 am to 12 noon and 2 pm to 7 pm
 
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What Language Do You Dream In?

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Sometimes people ask me what language I dream in. I’m not sure that I really dream in any language but I guess it depends on what the dream’s about.  I’m a translator by trade and when you’re working with two languages all day, you don’t necessarily know which one you’re speaking, let alone dreaming. I can remember once being asked by the tax department to come and fix up my GST  cheque which contained an error. I went in and looked at the cheque carefully for a few minutes but still couldn’t see what the problem was. They pointed out that the amount was written half in English and half in French!

When I chose to leave Australia and live in France, I didn’t really know what I was going to. I only knew what I was leaving. I’ve never looked back and never been homesick. That doesn’t mean that I don’t miss my family. I do, especially now that I have four nephews in Australia. But I love living in France. One of the things I like best is that you have greater freedom to be yourself when you live in another country and speak another language. You’re not bound by the same traditions and restrictions. To start off with, you don’t necessarily know that you’re doing something different.

I don’t mean that I want to be outrageous. I just want to be able to act spontaneously without having to worry about what other people say. Once I was in Townsville in the summer and was wearing a fuschia-coloured dress. I was told that it was not a summer colour and that I shouldn’t wear it! I was told in France that I had could only serve rice or potatoes with fish and that rice was never served with red meat, only with veal.  In a meeting or a class in France, you’re supposed to put your hand up when you want to talk. None of this spontaneous discussion that goes on in Australia. But I’ve noticed in staff meetings now that some of my French colleagues are following my example.

Expressing emotion is very different here. If something goes wrong, everybody gets excited about it. They drop everything else they’re doing and try to solve the problem together. Leonardo who’s just moved to Australia was telling me about an incident in his first job there. A problem occurred and his team was supposed to be looking after it. Two hours later, the boss called them in and got very angry because they hadn’t found a solution. Leonardo didn’t even know there was a problem. He was mystified because he hadn’t felt any vibes despite the fact that he was working in the same room as the other people involved.

Yet, at the same time, people never interfere in other people’s lives. I once hadn’t seen my neighbour for several days yet her cat seemed to be prowling around. Since she was depressive, I was worried. I went to see the real estate agent who was selling her flat and he came and checked there was nothing wrong. As it turned out, she’d just gone away for a few days. Relationnel thought I was interfering but I was relieved to know nothing had happened to her.

Another thing I like is that when there are differences in customs and attitudes, you ask yourself why. And that must surely help you gain a better understanding of people and life in general. It certainly makes you more tolerant and open-minded. Some traditions were developed for reasons that are still valid today, while others no longer make any sense. When you have the experience of two different cultures, you can choose the best of both worlds!

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Powerwalking to Pont Neuf – Part 1

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Not that the Pont Neuf’s really new – in fact it’s the oldest remaining bridge in Paris – but it was new at the time so that was what it was spontaneously called. If you’ve ever been to Venice and seen the Ponte Vecchio, you’ll have an idea of what most bridges used to look like in mediaeval days. The Pont Neuf, completed in 1607 during the reign of Henri IV (which is why there’s a statue of him halfway across) was the first bridge not to be covered. It was recently renovated and is now nice and new again.

Anyway, I decided to go in the opposite direction today, starting with the Galérie des Proues (as in prow ergo all the anchors) which is the only remaining part of Richelieu’s palace which is how the Palais Royal all started. Then past the Buren columns and Arago’s meridian plaque, across Rue de Rivoli and through the first part of the Louvre until I reached the glass pyramids which are stunning on a sunny day. Down to the left and into the Place Carrée with another fountain. Right towards the river, opposite the Pont des Arts where they have the padlocks and left down towards the Hôtel de Ville.

I think everyone’s heard the jokes about tourists mistaking the town hall (Hôtel de Ville) for a place to stay, but Actor Brother, who’s a country boy at heart, went one better. It was his first time in France and he’d rented a car and headed south (with his 12-year old son sitting in the back chanting his mantra “Dad, right is right, left is wrong”). It was getting late and he couldn’t find a hotel. Being Australian, he was expecting to see a motel appear at any time. Finally, he saw a big sign, “Hôtel de Police”. He headed off the highway, followed the directions and found himself in front of an unlikely looking building but, you know, it was France, and you could expect anything.

As he walked in, with his son close behind him, he realised something was wrong. “Euh, un hôtel?” he said in his basic French. The gendarme looked at him rather blankly but fortunately, a very helpful lady realised what was wrong and directed him to a more suitable place to spend the night than in the police lock-up!

But the one I was walking towards is not the “mega hôtel de ville” as Leonardo so aptly used to call the palatial building opposite Notre Dame that is home to the Mayor of Paris, but the town hall for the 1st arrondissement. It’s still not bad as far as neo-renaissance buildings go. Black Cat has got her heart set on getting married there, but she’ll have to get a move on because once Relationnel retires and we move to Blois, it’ll be too late.

In France, there’s none of that getting-married-in-a-garden-or-on-the-beach business that goes on in Australia. Here, you can only get married in the town hall of the place of residence of one of the spouses (or their parents if you can claim you’re still living at home). And having a church wedding doesn’t do away with the civil ceremony either which can complicate the logistics a bit.

I was going to tell you about the church of Saint Germain l’Auxerrois next door, a favourite with Valois royal family in Renaissance times, but I got a bit distracted and I wouldn’t like leave out any of the interesting bits so it’ll have to wait for next time.

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How I lost 20 kilos after 50, for good – Part 3

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Fresh vegetables and polenta in zip locks

Do you remember in Part 2 that my nutritionist said that I should divide my plate into 4, with ¼ protein, ¼ carbs and ½ cooked vegetables? Well, I haven’t heard anyone say, “I don’t like vegetables” or “It’s too much of a nuisance to make vegetables”, which is surprising when you see what most people actually eat. And restaurants are certainly not into serving vegetables, not in France anyway unless you also go to the more expensive restaurants.

I like good food and will occasionally get pleasure out of spending hours in the kitchen, but it’s not something I like doing two or three times a day. Everyday cooking, in my opinion, is boring. But vegetables obviously don’t appear out of nowhere. In France, we have Picard, of course. This is a concept that doesn’t seem to exist in Oz, to Leonardo’s great disappointment because he’s very keen on whole leaf spinach. It’s a frozen food supermarket where you can buy practically anything, including unadulterated vegetables, and that’s where I got my best vegetable idea from.

They have these plastic bowl affairs, a bit bigger than a Chinese bowl, containing three or four different vegetables e.g. broccoli, cauliflower and carrots, or peas, zucchini, broccoli and cherry tomatoes, or carrots, green beans and cauliflower. It has a transparent plastic seal so you can just put it in the microwave for a few minutes and, lo and behold, there are your vegetables, all ready to eat.

 

Doesn’t sound very appetising? You’d be surprised how tasty they actually are. One of the problems with vegetables is that they’re often over-cooked. And a half a plate of carrots or zucchini or green beans is sort of boring. Combining a small number that you can vary at each meal and cook to perfection solves that problem. Buying them from Picard though is expensive and time-consuming at 1.40 euro for 250 grammes so I looked around to see what else I could find.

And I did! Ziploc freezer containers by Albal are the answer. These are square plastic containers with expandable lids that contain just the right amount of vegetables for one person and can be washed in the dishwasher. On Sundays at the market, I buy a range of vegetables (whatever’s available) and store them in my green bags. I bet you don’t know what they are. My mother discovered these many long years ago and I stock up on them whenever I go back to Australia because you can’t buy them in France. The funny thing is, I haven’t found any Australians who know about them!

According to the blurb, they “contain natural ingredients which slow down the ageing process of fruit and vegetables by allowing them to breathe more easily. This process decreases the rate of ripening and preserves freshness, vitamins and flavour”. You use a different bag for each type of vegetable. You then expell the air by pressing on them and seal with a twist though I prefer those coloured clip-things you buy from Ikea. You can also wash out the bags after use and keep using them until they get holes in them. This is important if your stock comes from the other side of the world!

I could do one of those with and without ads, but I wouldn’t like to waste my broccoli. You know how broccoli goes brown then yellow almost as soon as you buy it? Well, you can easily keep it in a green bag for a week without it changing colour. It’s quite amazing. That way you only have to shop every 8 or 10 days and still have a store of fresh vegetables in your fridge. By the way, it takes about 4 minutes in the micro-wave to cook one container of cut-up vegetables. You have to slice carrots very thinly, zucchini into 1/2 cm slices and the cauliflower and broccoli into 2/3 cm pieces.

These taste better than the photo would have you believe

The other way I like cooking vegetables is in the oven. For example, I cut up a couple of eggplants, a few zucchini and and two or three capsicums into chunks (aubergines, courgettes and bell peppers for the non-Aussies), put them all in a large baking dish with a few teaspoons of olive oil and lots of thyme, then into in a 200° C oven. After half an hour, I stir well, then  put the dish back in the oven, stirring every 10 minutes (usually another 30 minutes) until the vegetables are cooked.  Delicious hot or cold. Also works for potatoes, sweet peas and real pumpkin (as opposed to the sort you find in France).

Happy vegetable cooking!

The Natural Skinnies and Us
How I lost 20 kilos after 50 – for good: Part 1
How I lost 20 kilos after 50 – for good: Part 2
How I lost 20 kilos after 50 – for good: Part 4
How I lost 20 kilos after 50 – for good: Part 5
How I lost 20 kilos after 50 – for good: Part 6

A to Z in the Life of an Aussie in France

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Enjoy my A to Z and don’t forget to click on the links for more …

A – Aussie: How else could I begin? Aussies come from Oz or the Land Downunder where I was born and bred.

B – Blois: In the middle of the Loire Valley, where we’re in the process of buying a house built in 1584 which we’ll be renting out as self-catering holiday accommodation until the NEW ADVENTURE in my life starts in June 2014.

C – Cycling: Our favourite activity from April until October in France and wherever. Next trip: Paris to London once they’ve completed the bike route for the London Olympic Games.

A bike path around the city of Innsbruck

D – Down Under: Not the Land, but the book by Bill Bryson. Full of clichés, but most of them are just so true! And a good read any time.

E – Early bird: Which I’m not, but it’s the only way to beat the tourists and I hate standing in line! And that’s what siestas are for.

F – Foie Gras: One of my very favourite foods and that I now know how to make.

G – Garret: Where I thought I was living when I first moved to France, even though it was just a room in a third floor apartment.

H – Home Exchange: Our new way of holidaying. First stop Madrid and lots of exchanges planned for Australia, some simultaneous, some not.

I – iPhone: Something I’m crazy about and which can certainly make life easier on holidays. Perfect for Twitter and Facebook too.

J – Jam-packed: The metro at peak hour so why not take the bus instead and be a real Parisienne?

K – Kilos: The 20 I have lost and never intend to put back on!

L – Loire Valley: Land of kings and queens and castles. Our future home. Less than 2 hours’ drive from Paris.

Chambord in the Loire Valley

M – Mushrooms: Our second favourite activity after cycling, from April to December. But next year we’re heading for Provence in January to check out the truffle market!

N – Natural skinnies: The people who don’t ever have to lose 20 kilos.

O – Oysters: Another of my favourite foods, especially on Sundays – “spéciales” with fresh homemade bread and a lovely cold bottle of Sancerre.

P – Palais Royal: My home for another two years and for the last seven. Right in the middle, with a view of fountain from my balcony, directly above Miss Bibi!

Q – Queensland: Where I was born, in the tropics, a true-blue Banana Bender!

R – Relationnel: My very French husband whom I cycle, pick mushrooms and travel with. Among other things.

S – Summer time: The very best time of the year, when it’s still light at 11 pm and the days seem to go on forever.

T – Tuileries Gardens: Where I power walk, lunch with friends and Relationnel, and watch the sun set over the Louvre.

U – University: Where I’m still teaching translation, despite the sad lack of equipment and outdated installations.

V – Vélib: Paris’ rent-a-bike system that’s immensely popular with Parisians and great fun along the Seine on Sundays when the road’s closed to traffic.

W – Wolves: To be found in the Palais Royal only when it snows.

Snow in the Palais Royal Gardens in December 2010

X – Xtraordinary: What everyone in Australia thinks my life is, what with living in a Royal Palace and speaking French all the time, but they don’t know how hard it really is!

Y – You-tube: The very best way to learn anything these days, particularly all that new technology and how to set up a blog.

Z – Ze only way most French people know how to say “th”, including Relationnel, giving them a highly recognizable accent.

 

An Aussie in France on My French Life

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Corner of the Théâtre Royal

I’m delighted to have joined the My French Life team of contributing authors, photographers, interviewers and talented people who live all around the world.

My French Life /Ma Vie Française – online magazine & global community of French & francophiles – Connect, Share, Inspire, Aspire, Learn…

Local  Events/Réunions monthly in Paris & soon elsewhere   –  7 every month in Ville de Melbourne, Australia

Click here for my introductory post.

“Maybe it was the Latin mass that started it all. I loved chanting away in a language that wasn’t my own even if I didn’t know what I was saying. So when I started to learn French at high school, I was delighted. And it all fitted together so well, just like a puzzle. I actually liked learning verb tenses and vocabulary. I even talked to my dog in French! We had a TV programme at school about a family of four that lived on a barge on a French canal. From Townsville suburbia, it looked like paradise”. Read more

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