Summer is here and it is extremely hot and humid. I don’t do too well in such heat and need to be careful about getting dehydrated.
The weather was similar when we arrived last year and we eventually dropped into a sensible French routine of being busy first thing in the morning and then rest until the evening.
To begin with, we couldn’t understand why everything was closed for most of the afternoon and why all the council-run summer festivities didn’t seem to start until after our bed-time.
Brochures advertising the summer entertainment programme have just been released and there are, again, all sorts of events around the city in the open air.
All the events are free and, although a few start at 6.30 or 7pm, most start about 10pm when the evening temperature is nice and cool.
So we now have a busy timetable of music, street theatre, circus performances and open-air cinema to fit in before we return. And lots of lunches too.
Tuesday, 30 June 2009
Saturday, 27 June 2009
Mirrors of time
After a slightly extended term (due to strikes and occupations), the universities in France are slowly closing down for the summer. Although a few students still have exams, many of the admin staff are already working on ‘summer time’.
My partner sat her last exam yesterday, writing a 4 hour essay on technical and social aspects of maritime history from 1500 to 1900 – in French of course.
We are now left with seven weeks before we return to the UK. This mirrors perfectly the time we had at the beginning of our year before Becky started her first course – an intensive French class – last September.
Our first seven weeks were a busy time of setting up bank accounts, getting a TV, telephone and broadband package, sorting out health cover and getting to know the local area.
In our final seven weeks, we will need to cancel these arrangements and start contacting utility companies in the UK. I will need to ensure a seamless transfer of my health care back to the National Health Service (I’m sure there will be further posts about this).
We are also planning trips and outings to do some of the things that we haven’t managed to do yet – like a evening visit to Mont-St-Michel and a guided tour of the D-Day beaches.
Most of all, we need to slowly say goodbye to our home for a year – visiting our favourite cafés and restaurants and absorbing as much of the atmosphere as we can.
For some time we have been thinking and talking about taking back some of the things we have learned about ourselves during this year.
We both feel we have changed and some of our excitement about going back to the UK is to see how much more we can get out of life there.
My partner sat her last exam yesterday, writing a 4 hour essay on technical and social aspects of maritime history from 1500 to 1900 – in French of course.
We are now left with seven weeks before we return to the UK. This mirrors perfectly the time we had at the beginning of our year before Becky started her first course – an intensive French class – last September.
Our first seven weeks were a busy time of setting up bank accounts, getting a TV, telephone and broadband package, sorting out health cover and getting to know the local area.
In our final seven weeks, we will need to cancel these arrangements and start contacting utility companies in the UK. I will need to ensure a seamless transfer of my health care back to the National Health Service (I’m sure there will be further posts about this).
We are also planning trips and outings to do some of the things that we haven’t managed to do yet – like a evening visit to Mont-St-Michel and a guided tour of the D-Day beaches.
Most of all, we need to slowly say goodbye to our home for a year – visiting our favourite cafés and restaurants and absorbing as much of the atmosphere as we can.
For some time we have been thinking and talking about taking back some of the things we have learned about ourselves during this year.
We both feel we have changed and some of our excitement about going back to the UK is to see how much more we can get out of life there.
Saturday, 20 June 2009
The Hare and the Tortoise
Something I have wanted to do since I was a boy is to go to the Le Mans 24 hour motor race. Last weekend I did just that – after all, the circuit is less than 100 miles away from Caen.
The 24 heures du Mans is one of the iconic sporting events. This year saw the 77th running of the event, which is – as the name suggests – a race run over 24 hours, from 3pm Saturday until 3pm Sunday.
More often than not, the Le Mans race is ample proof that Aesop’s tale of the hare and the tortoise is correct. Winning a race over 24 hours is a complex combination of not going too fast, careful strategy and luck.
I loved this quirky lesson about life long before I got ill with Crohn’s disease, but Le Mans has continued to fascinate me and always will be my highlight of the sporting year.
My life is divided up into small challenges, bigger challenges and absolutely gigantic challenges, and my trip to Le Mans definitely falls into the later category. My weekend was planned like a (well-planned) military campaign – completely timetabled, essentials packed for all eventualities and eating only jelly-sweets and drinking only water and energy drinks.
Whilst most other people were getting drunk or getting indigestion, my concentration was fixed on the race. I stayed up all night, took a trip into the forest to see the cars up close and I had an absolutely superb time.
I think it has been being ill that has encouraged me to grasp opportunities and do things I dream of doing. Coming to live in France has been one of those things. Going to Le Mans is another – I am delighted I was brave enough to go.
The 24 heures du Mans is one of the iconic sporting events. This year saw the 77th running of the event, which is – as the name suggests – a race run over 24 hours, from 3pm Saturday until 3pm Sunday.
More often than not, the Le Mans race is ample proof that Aesop’s tale of the hare and the tortoise is correct. Winning a race over 24 hours is a complex combination of not going too fast, careful strategy and luck.
I loved this quirky lesson about life long before I got ill with Crohn’s disease, but Le Mans has continued to fascinate me and always will be my highlight of the sporting year.
My life is divided up into small challenges, bigger challenges and absolutely gigantic challenges, and my trip to Le Mans definitely falls into the later category. My weekend was planned like a (well-planned) military campaign – completely timetabled, essentials packed for all eventualities and eating only jelly-sweets and drinking only water and energy drinks.
Whilst most other people were getting drunk or getting indigestion, my concentration was fixed on the race. I stayed up all night, took a trip into the forest to see the cars up close and I had an absolutely superb time.
I think it has been being ill that has encouraged me to grasp opportunities and do things I dream of doing. Coming to live in France has been one of those things. Going to Le Mans is another – I am delighted I was brave enough to go.
Saturday, 6 June 2009
D-Day and the British media
Living in France, we watch the French TV news and read French newspapers. We need to know what’s going on and what people are talking about.
Of course, we do keep an eye on the UK media headlines, but what is going on across the Channel is a little distant.
Something I did expect, but am still surprised about is the difference of emphasis between the media of the two countries. Even big international events like the US presidential election are covered in a different way.
Over the past month, the European parliamentary elections have been big news in France. There have been debates on prime-time TV, lots of coverage on the evening news programmes and in the newspapers, as well as public meetings in our town attended by hundreds of people.
It has been difficult to find very much coverage at all in the UK media and most of it has appeared to be anti-European.
Perhaps this British anti-European sentiment is easier to pick up when you’re on mainland Europe. One story that has been quite bizarre is the fuss around D-Day.
This weekend there are huge celebrations across Basse-Normandie, remembering those allied soldiers, sailors and airmen who were willing to give their lives to liberate Europe from Nazi tyranny.
In every town and village in the region, local councils, veterans groups representing all the allied servicemen and the various governments have organised and supported these commemorations.
All week the regional media has been full of soldiers’ stories and information about the events this weekend. Last night there was a stunning co-ordinated firework display that stretched all along the D-Day beaches.
Today, live footage of the official events has been on national TV from 9 o’clock this morning and will continue until this evening. Films and documentaries about D-Day and the battle for Normandy have been on numerous TV stations for several weeks too.
Yet the UK media is focusing on the claim that France has chosen to ignore the sacrifices made by British soldiers in 1944 and have deliberately insulted the memory of these soldiers by not inviting the Queen to Normandy.
I understand that anti-French rhetoric is always good for a few votes or to sell a few newspapers, but this is utterly ridiculous and I have found it quite revolting.
For their part, I think the French have handled this ‘crisis’ very well. They could have pointed out to the world that it was the British head of state who had chosen not to attend the commemorations (‘we’ don't do the anniversaries with a 5 in them, apparently) and clearly the Queen had already arranged her day-trip to the Epsom Derby.
Instead the French government continued organising a very moving commemoration, letting the British media continue to froth and foam at the mouth, and asked again, through diplomatic channels, if the UK would accept an invitation if issued formally. This time the answer was ‘yes’ and an official invitation was sent. End of crisis.
Of course, we do keep an eye on the UK media headlines, but what is going on across the Channel is a little distant.
Something I did expect, but am still surprised about is the difference of emphasis between the media of the two countries. Even big international events like the US presidential election are covered in a different way.
Over the past month, the European parliamentary elections have been big news in France. There have been debates on prime-time TV, lots of coverage on the evening news programmes and in the newspapers, as well as public meetings in our town attended by hundreds of people.
It has been difficult to find very much coverage at all in the UK media and most of it has appeared to be anti-European.
Perhaps this British anti-European sentiment is easier to pick up when you’re on mainland Europe. One story that has been quite bizarre is the fuss around D-Day.
This weekend there are huge celebrations across Basse-Normandie, remembering those allied soldiers, sailors and airmen who were willing to give their lives to liberate Europe from Nazi tyranny.
In every town and village in the region, local councils, veterans groups representing all the allied servicemen and the various governments have organised and supported these commemorations.
All week the regional media has been full of soldiers’ stories and information about the events this weekend. Last night there was a stunning co-ordinated firework display that stretched all along the D-Day beaches.
Today, live footage of the official events has been on national TV from 9 o’clock this morning and will continue until this evening. Films and documentaries about D-Day and the battle for Normandy have been on numerous TV stations for several weeks too.
Yet the UK media is focusing on the claim that France has chosen to ignore the sacrifices made by British soldiers in 1944 and have deliberately insulted the memory of these soldiers by not inviting the Queen to Normandy.
I understand that anti-French rhetoric is always good for a few votes or to sell a few newspapers, but this is utterly ridiculous and I have found it quite revolting.
For their part, I think the French have handled this ‘crisis’ very well. They could have pointed out to the world that it was the British head of state who had chosen not to attend the commemorations (‘we’ don't do the anniversaries with a 5 in them, apparently) and clearly the Queen had already arranged her day-trip to the Epsom Derby.
Instead the French government continued organising a very moving commemoration, letting the British media continue to froth and foam at the mouth, and asked again, through diplomatic channels, if the UK would accept an invitation if issued formally. This time the answer was ‘yes’ and an official invitation was sent. End of crisis.
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