Vacances D'Hiver

Seven weeks after arriving back here, the first school term of the year is over and the 'Vacances d'Hiver' at last begin. The winter holidays are the holidays during which the people here traditionally go up into the alps to ski. Though yesterday, I got into a rather intense discussion about Hollande's government- and the decrease of the middle class which now means they can't afford to go skiing, when a lot of the 'chomeurs' (unemployed) can as a result of the 'allocations' they receive.

Yesterday I ate 'en famille' with Sabine in Saignon, and we had a delicious birthday cake for her daughter, Maï's birthday which will be next Wednesday but they will be in London and she wanted to spend it with her 'Mami' (grandmother) and me. Then in the evening I went back up to Saignon with Marie to do private lessons with her elder girls and eat with them. Wednesday is always a day I end up in a food coma..yesterday I ate a grand total of eleven courses; with Sabine I had a salad course, lentils and sausages, a cheese course, a birthday cake course, a coffee course and cider, then started all again with Marie and had a salad course (smoked salmon, pink grapefruit and avocado (well worth a try!), a quiche, a cheese course, a carrot cake and a coffee and again several glasses of red wine. I had no trouble sleeping last night!

And tomorrow, I will be going home. I fly from Nimes airport to London Luton at 7pm tomorrow night, and have planned a day of sightseeing in Nimes before I go. This could potentially not be the most relaxing day of sightseeing, as I am going to be wearing two tops, two jumpers and the biggest winter coat, plus carring three bags to transport the maximum stuff back to the UK.

This week, I have been packing and repacking- with the final pack completed Tuesday evening- having rolled up every jumper/ top/ dress possible and fitted them all into the tiniest spaces in my hand luggage case. Because Mum, Dad and Kate are coming out to bring me home I will have three other suitcases to deposit some of the paraphernalia I have collected while being here- though only today I realised there are five mugs, two teacups and saucers, two plates, three Moroccan bowls and a jug to add to my crockery collection. But my plan for these holidays is to get all winter clothes home- and bar one jumper and one coat I have succeeded on my mission of packing them all up. I really did have to sit on my suitcase lid, and it did take three different attempts, but the zip is closed and it is not going to be opened again until I arrive at home.

So the blog will be taking a winter holiday break as well, and will be back in March to tell you all about my Vacances d'Hiver!

I bought this card in a shop in Apt- it says 'it will be better tomorrow'- for motivation and bon courage!

Le Mont Saint- Victoire

This weekend was one of those that makes the whole experience worth it- take two of our attempted plan to climb Le Mont Saint-Victoire, the mountain just outside Aix, famously painted by Cezanne. The forecast stayed good, so Alison came to stay Friday night, and Saturday we got up early in the morning and took the 6.30 bus to Aix. In Aix we stopped for a spot of petit-dejeuner at Le Pain Quotidien, an amazing breakfast bar, very Aix chic (Aix is named the Paris of the south, and the only other Pain Quotidien is in Paris). It has a long communal table and, wait for it....sugar free granola! I was in seventh heaven (my obsession with breakfast is not quite shared by Becca and Alison) and I had a coffee, and a 'parfait' of fresh fruit, granola and fromage blanc. 

After breakfast we wandered the market for a while, and then headed over to the bus stop to get the shuttle bus to the bottom of the mountain. It wasn't exactly well signposted but we set off on what seemed to be the most beaten track, and shortly rounded a corner to see this...

The sun was out and it was difficult to believe it was only mid Feb, and here we were, taking in the breathtaking view. The footpath crossed the bridge of the dam and wound round the water, and up through some scrubby woodland. The mountain is not accessible during the heat of summer because of the all the shrubbery- there is often a high risk of fires. It was an ideal time to walk it, because the day was mild, but not too hot, and the climb was difficult- before long we had stripped off all layers. 

However, we were not extremely well prepared for hardcore climbing- and eyebrows were raised when we trekked in the tourist office that morning in converse, with our Longchamp bags and asked how we could get to the mountain. 'Vous etes equippees?' (Are you prepared?) The woman asked, once, twice, three times. And when we got to the dam there was a signpost to the mountain that read, firstly 'this climb can be dangerous.' We had looked at the route and researched the time it would take, and given ourselves plenty of time and were halfway to the summit by 12, when we stopped for lunch. There are two peaks of Le Mont Saint-Victoire and climbing the first we were sheltered. However, as soon as we reached the summit of the first peak the wind hit us with such force we struggled to keep upright. We tried to continue for five more minutes but the path was becoming more uneven and the rocks were slippy. Without grippy footwear and two free hands, it seemed silly to continue despite warnings so we turned round and came back down. Though a little disappointed, it was a beautiful climb and we were all in agreement that it was the right decision to make. 

the view of the second peak from half way down the first peak

Le Carnot Set

It's Wednesday and I have very little to report, except that, at last the sunshine has returned. All weekend it rained and our plans to climb Mont Saint-Victoire were washed away with it. 

a bit of a gloomy Apt

We had Alison with us though, so we did go to a small restaurant in town called the Carnot Set on Friday night to celebrate Becca's birthday, which has reasonable reviews on tripadvisor. It was interesting inside- it looked as though it couldn't decide to be an American diner or a chichi upmarket French restaurant, and the result was rather a lot of black and red leather, combined with grey and white gingham. Still, the food was very good, as promised, and we all went for something different- Becca, the magret of duck, Alison, the lamb parcels with herbs, and me, the seabass cooked in garlic and lemon. 

The flavours were delicious and we were half way through when Alison, who has a peanut allergy, froze and pulled what looked like half a peanut out of her mouth. The lamb was wrapped around a pocket of herbs (and as it transpired after, nuts, though that wasn't stated on the menu). She passed it to me, and asked if it was a peanut, which I ate and thought it was. Then we were in a predicament, especially poor Alison who was well prepared to start throwing up any minute, and had left her antihistamines and inhaler in Avignon. Of course at 10pm all the pharmacies were closed- and neither Becca or I had either at home. So we asked the waitress if they had any antihistamines in a first aid kit, which they didn't, but she proceeded to ask the rest of the restaurant if they had any. Everyone was very helpful, but no one came up with the goods, and Alison was looking a bit worse for wear. The waitress came over to see if there was anything she could do. Alison explained she hadn't realised there were nuts within the lamb and the waitress exclaimed, 'Non! They are pistachios!' She seemed adamant. They hadn't seemed like pistachios to me so I asked if we could verify with the chef. The waitress returned. 'They are walnuts and almonds!' Fortunately that meant panic over, and Alison was able to finish the dish. 

dessert- speculoos brownie cake for Becca's birthday

Saturday was spent cooped inside with tomato soup, pancakes and French grammar practise. Sunday it cleared briefly, and Monday I went back to work. Fortunately all the children have been good this week, especially my Year 4s on Tuesday, who I love. Yesterday and today have been gorgeous sunshine so I've been soaking up as much as possible in case its the last I see in a while.

Tomorrow I have school- and Friday Alison is coming again for attempt no 2 of climbing Mont Saint- Victoire. On verra... (we will see). 

News!

Today I have some excellent news. Just last week, I decided to sign up to the site 'Au Pair World', to find a summer job as an au pair in France. I half debated whether I should look for something more challenging- an internship or some work experience in France, that might fare better on the old CV, but decided, the hassle of trying to search for and then apply for these on WiFi that takes about twenty minutes to load a page was not feasible. I also thought for me, an au pair job would be one of the most rewarding things I could do, and the best way to practise french by living day in day out with a french family for six weeks or more, which is the main aim.

Within two days I had contacted a family and had a positive response. Sunday we skyped and I met the parents, and then Tuesday night I met their two girls, who are 3 and 1. The family live in Paris, and have never had an au pair. They told me they wanted their au pair to be a part of the family, and included in all activities. I would spend two weeks in Paris with them, and two weeks in Sables D'Olonne on the west coast during July, and then August would be spent at their second home in Bormes Les Mimosas, just next to Saint-Tropez. Location and family-wise it couldn't have been more ideal for me, and after both skypes, I had such a good feeling that it was the right family for me. They were very friendly and discussed the summer as though I was already a part of it, yet we parted, promising to think about it on both of our parts, and get back to each other.

For me, I was one hundred percent sold. I loved the girls, I loved the family, and I wanted to work with them. But I waited with baited breath, until this morning when I woke up to an email from them to say they think I am the perfect match for their family and would love to welcome me into it this summer. Quelle joie!

this is the arrondissement of Paris I'll be in

Sables D'Olonnes

Bormes les Mimosas- back to Provence

ps. sorry I know my blog titles are weak!

A Butterfly, A Bee and A Snail

It's Wednesday and things are going well this week, though it has not stopped raining since I last blogged. Everyone keeps exclaiming how unlucky I am- apparently this is an abnormal amount of rain for Provence. Yet, it's less than a normal summer in England, so I am not too bothered.

On Monday I forgot my umbrella and came back from school soaked to the skin, only to find a very welcome surprise in the postbox.

...this box of goodies from Daniel

This brightened up Monday immeasurably, and Tuesday wasn't too bad either. Becca and I went out in the morning for a coffee, and to use the wifi in the cafe at Bar L'Aptois, then I tried my hand at a recipe I'd found online and voila!- here is my lunch:

coriander roasted cod and red onion, fennel, rocket and celery salad

Then it was time for school, where we did animals, and the children engaged pretty well because they wanted to tell me what animals they have at home. I went round the class, repeating the question, 'Do you have any pets?' and ended up with a variety of responses, from 'Yes, I have a cat and a dog,' to, 'Yes I have a sheep and thirteen cats,' to one girl, who I think possibly misunderstood the question, 'Yes I have a butterfly, a snail and a bee.'

In my last class I nearly cracked up, because of one adorable boy, who always sits at the front, with thick framed spectacles, always concentrating hard, and calls me 'Maitresse Amy'. I asked him what animals he had at home. He cleared his throat, but someone at the back was talking and the teacher turned to reprimand them. I nodded at him to show I was paying attention to his response, but he held up a finger, rolled his eyes and said 'j'attends' (I'll wait). The answer he was waiting to give was, 'I don't have any pets'. He said it so earnestly and seriously it nearly broke my heart. 

After class I was waiting to do my private lessons outside the class of Madame Vernis, and as always the class always like to say 'bye bye' to me when they leave. One of the boys (who I have a soft spot for) came out of the class and when he saw his face broke into a wide grin, and he came and stood next to me, pointing at my phone in my hand and said 'c'est combien?' I was just trying to work out whether he meant 'how much was it?' which would be the literal translation but a slightly strange question to ask or 'which model of iPhone is it?', when one of the more disruptive boys swaggered out of the class, and cheerily informed this boy 'there's no point talking to her, she can't understand any french' (in french). This made me laugh, but before I could respond (in french) Madame Vernis came out of the class behind him. 'What did you say Imad?' He faltered. 'I was just saying, the english assistant cannot understand french'. Behind him, all the girls in the class rolled their eyes as if they couldn't quite comprehend anyone so stupid (that's their attitude with all the boys in that class and I have to say it's quite fitting). 'Oh but she can understand french,' Madame Vernis said, 'she can understand everything you're saying. So shut up.' He looked at me with horror, and as they filed out of the corridor the girls behind him were hissing, 'she can understand french, and she can speak french because she's spoken it to me...' The boy who had been standing with me smiled and waved, 'good bye Amy'. 

So today is Wednesday and it's Becca's birthday so we're going out for lunch to celebrate. Then on Friday, Alison and a couple of Becca's friends from Avignon are coming and we're going out for dinner in Apt, and then to Aix on Saturday to climb the legendary Mont Saint-Victoire, featured in many of Cezanne's paintings...

Le Mal Du Pays

After we got back from Morocco I ended up feeling a bit flat; the excitement was over and the prospect of three weeks in Apt before the winter holidays did not fill me with much enthusiasm. 

On Tuesday I went to school but felt ill. Fortunately so did the children, so in my second class, twelve students were absent, and it made teaching with a thumping headache mildly easier. In my after school lessons I attempted to teach animals but couldn't seem to grip their attention, so we made paper fortune tellers (that thing where you fold the paper up and put 4 numbers on each corner, eight colours inside, and have to fold up the flap to read the message underneath). I hadn't the heart to make them write the messages in English, it was clearly too much fun to think up eight french insults. When they had exhausted 'you're ugly,' 'you smell,' 'you're stupid,' they turned to me for inspiration. 'You could try and write one nice thing? You know... you're my friend, you're nice...' I suggested. It was such a preposterous suggestion, it was hardly given the time of day, and they went back to writing the true comedy, 'you fancy...'. And so when it was my turn, and I dutifully chose my colour and was presented with 'you fancy Antonin', the lesson ended with Antonin going beetroot and sprinting out of the room.

Wednesday's rain turned to snow.

Thursday I woke up feeling terrible and sent an email to work, and went back to bed. It rained heavily all day and by Friday morning the river was raging. We walked out to the supermarket, and I did some French grammar, (another New Years Resolution yet to be tackled), then in the evening I had been invited to a 'repas' with Jean Philippe and Sylviane, and their extended family. It's one thing to hold a french conversation with just Jean Philippe and Sylviane, let alone hold your own in a social situation with eight native french speakers, so I was nervous when Jean Philippe's family arrived. I met Emmanuel and his wife, Emmanuelle (I know), Juliane, Laurence, Luc and Gaelle, and immediately it became clear there was nothing to worry about. They were an extremely kind family, easy going and friendly and asked me about my life in France and my work. They were sympathetic about me having been placed in Apt ('but nothing happens here?'), expressed horror when Sylviane told them about the teachers often leaving me alone infront of a class, encouraged and complimented my french and were amused when I simply said the french and english education systems were 'different'. 

After champagne and three glasses of red wine, I became further and further removed from the conversation, and was happy to let it wash over me, when we started to play the 'guess who' game. Contributions such as 'Prince George, Jesus, Victor Hugo and Sherlock Holmes' made it not difficult to play for a non french person, and they went out of their way to make me feel at home and included, even bringing out some mince pies for a post dinner treat. It was a lovely evening, and so nice to be included in a family environment, only slightly overshadowed by the awareness that that feeling of togetherness is a rare thing for me in France, and something when people have it everyday, they take for granted.