Well I'm relieved to say that as of 2pm today I woke feeling human. Having had all of 4 hrs sleep last night I woke this morning feeling weak and still poorly but forced myself to yet again try and sort this stupid internet out. Finally having got it sorted I uploaded all my blogs - so sorry they have taken such a while and headed home via the market for strawberries.
I managed to eat two then despite telling myself I wouldn't sleep during the day, fell asleep face down on the swing chair and woke with hilarious tan lines and a bright red bum, which is still sore to sit on. But still at least I feel well again. Having not been able to think about food this morning, I have had to make do with the left over lettuce, tomatoes and cous cous lounging about in the fridge, so yes the diet is going very well!
Other than that more reading and trying not to sleep, I am hopeful tomorrow will be more exciting!
Tuesday, 30 April 2013
Day 15 - Disgracing myself at the supermaket. Death come quickly!
Arghh a most horrifying day. My poor belly. I felt so poorly. Having not had internet for several days, I forced myself out of bed to Geant (supermarket) and spent 2 hrs trying to get internet credit, milk, wheetabix and petrol. The truth was I was mostly locked, crying on the floor of a public toilet. I am a useless sick person. I always cry and feel sorry for myself, plus I had never been sick like this.
The lowest point was having to rush out of a shop, leaving everything (bag, money, purse, keys, coat) with a poor startled young lady. I made it as far as the shop door and was sick. Not a highlight, especially as i then had to try and run to the bathroom only to spend another 30 mins wondering whether the shade of yellow was vile or my healthy pineapple breakfast. Sorry far too much detail.
Anyway when I finally got home, I crawled into bed and fitffuly slept...so im afraid nothing very exciting to tell you. Plus rather annoyingly, the internet the young lady had said was fixed, was not fixed, so I felt compelled to call Markles and let him know I was alive, if only just. Apologies for sounding like death warmed up.
On the plus I only managed to eat 1 wheetabix all day, so the diet has started well :-)
P.s. dont go to the cow on the quey, the burger is scrumptious but the food poisoning less so.
The lowest point was having to rush out of a shop, leaving everything (bag, money, purse, keys, coat) with a poor startled young lady. I made it as far as the shop door and was sick. Not a highlight, especially as i then had to try and run to the bathroom only to spend another 30 mins wondering whether the shade of yellow was vile or my healthy pineapple breakfast. Sorry far too much detail.
Anyway when I finally got home, I crawled into bed and fitffuly slept...so im afraid nothing very exciting to tell you. Plus rather annoyingly, the internet the young lady had said was fixed, was not fixed, so I felt compelled to call Markles and let him know I was alive, if only just. Apologies for sounding like death warmed up.
On the plus I only managed to eat 1 wheetabix all day, so the diet has started well :-)
P.s. dont go to the cow on the quey, the burger is scrumptious but the food poisoning less so.
Day 14 - Rain and cows...
Its absolutely tipping it down. Torrential rain and thunderstorms and obviously I havent packed sensible shoes so ive got wet feet. I also have the worlds most tastiest burger - yay my last before the diet tomorrow.
I decided to go to frejuis to a restaurant, which translates as The Cow on the Quey. It has big bright cow art, cow ornaments and lots of cow on the menu, so im in heaven.
The chap who served it gestured to his belly to say I would be very full afterwards and it was delicious. He wasnt lying, I was absolutely stuffed, when I eventually waddled out of the place. My one negative, is that the meat was almost raw in places, and I asked for medium. They really do have a different definition of cooked meat here in France.
Anyway I needed sleep and a book to read while I digested, and thats exactly what I did. I could hardly move. Needless to say I did nothing more with the day, and didn't eat a scrap until almost 9pm when I decided ice cream was a compulsory partner to a film. Really my diet is shocking I know!
I decided to go to frejuis to a restaurant, which translates as The Cow on the Quey. It has big bright cow art, cow ornaments and lots of cow on the menu, so im in heaven.
The chap who served it gestured to his belly to say I would be very full afterwards and it was delicious. He wasnt lying, I was absolutely stuffed, when I eventually waddled out of the place. My one negative, is that the meat was almost raw in places, and I asked for medium. They really do have a different definition of cooked meat here in France.
Anyway I needed sleep and a book to read while I digested, and thats exactly what I did. I could hardly move. Needless to say I did nothing more with the day, and didn't eat a scrap until almost 9pm when I decided ice cream was a compulsory partner to a film. Really my diet is shocking I know!
Day 13 - Happy birthday Stinkie
Today is my little sisters birthday, and Ive sent her a terrible card, which she thought was an anniversary card instead of a birthday card. It could have been, I hadn't a clue what it said, it just had a naff puppy holding a bouquet of flowers. Sorry sis, though at least I remembered :-) Hope you had a nice day stinkie (this being my affectionate name for her).
The weather was very cold and miserable, so I was glad I had booked a wonderful massage to start the day. I then went to the chocolatiers for breakfast (yes before you ask my muffin tops are very happily growing outside of my trousers, thank you!), before pottering back to the studio for a nap. I know its such a hard life!
In the afternoon I ventured back to St Maxine, which you have a probably guessed is my favourite place, and toodled about the town. I found a shop filled with hats so amused myself for a while in there, before deciding I didn't need a hat and opting to buy an ice cream instead. I then found a second hand boutique filled with designer clobber, sadly even the second hand christian dior scarf for €40 was too much to justify, so I escaped while I still had a few pennies to my name.
It was then that I did a naughty thing, something I never do...I did a major splurge. You see it wasn't my fault I was happily minding my own business, when I heard a little voice..."come inside Maria, we have pretty things to show you". Looking about I was instantly drawn to a gorgeous boutique on the other side of the road. "Welcome my precious, make yourself comfy, look around at the delights we have for you". Hmm this is a new sales technique - subconscious shop coaxing. Well I gave in and instantly fell in love, fortunately with something I really needed. A black leather jacket. Yes Markles, I don't care what the bank manager says, I did really need it. Its pretty, and oh so soft and I look like a biker chick (in my head at least) which is a must for a Manxie.
However, I also did something daft, you see they use silly European sizes over here, so while I tried on other things and my jacket, the shop lady kept on politely handing me size 38. To which I refused "no no Madame, moi size 36". To which she responded with more honesty than any English sales assistant has ever mustered "Hmm pardon Madame but that is too tight, just a little, you try size 38?".
I was devastated! Who would have thought a diet of cakes, croissants, bread and cheese would put me up a size in 2 weeks! Horrified, I refused out of principle. In my head the size 36 leather jacket looked great, so I bought that and left the poor lady folding up all the size 38 things. It was until I got back to the restaurant and checked on google, that I realised I had bought a size 8 jacket and the lady had been trying to sell me size 10 clothes - my usual size! I thought 38 equalled a size 12! How stupidly vain of me. Anyway having bought that jacket Markles will murder me if I ever don't fit in it, so its a good thing Monday is only 2 days away. Diets always start on a Monday, don't you know.
Content that I was still my usual size I celebrated with steak and chips, and choc pud with custard for dessert. Well Ive got to store strength if I have a diet on the horizon!
The weather was very cold and miserable, so I was glad I had booked a wonderful massage to start the day. I then went to the chocolatiers for breakfast (yes before you ask my muffin tops are very happily growing outside of my trousers, thank you!), before pottering back to the studio for a nap. I know its such a hard life!
In the afternoon I ventured back to St Maxine, which you have a probably guessed is my favourite place, and toodled about the town. I found a shop filled with hats so amused myself for a while in there, before deciding I didn't need a hat and opting to buy an ice cream instead. I then found a second hand boutique filled with designer clobber, sadly even the second hand christian dior scarf for €40 was too much to justify, so I escaped while I still had a few pennies to my name.
It was then that I did a naughty thing, something I never do...I did a major splurge. You see it wasn't my fault I was happily minding my own business, when I heard a little voice..."come inside Maria, we have pretty things to show you". Looking about I was instantly drawn to a gorgeous boutique on the other side of the road. "Welcome my precious, make yourself comfy, look around at the delights we have for you". Hmm this is a new sales technique - subconscious shop coaxing. Well I gave in and instantly fell in love, fortunately with something I really needed. A black leather jacket. Yes Markles, I don't care what the bank manager says, I did really need it. Its pretty, and oh so soft and I look like a biker chick (in my head at least) which is a must for a Manxie.
However, I also did something daft, you see they use silly European sizes over here, so while I tried on other things and my jacket, the shop lady kept on politely handing me size 38. To which I refused "no no Madame, moi size 36". To which she responded with more honesty than any English sales assistant has ever mustered "Hmm pardon Madame but that is too tight, just a little, you try size 38?".
I was devastated! Who would have thought a diet of cakes, croissants, bread and cheese would put me up a size in 2 weeks! Horrified, I refused out of principle. In my head the size 36 leather jacket looked great, so I bought that and left the poor lady folding up all the size 38 things. It was until I got back to the restaurant and checked on google, that I realised I had bought a size 8 jacket and the lady had been trying to sell me size 10 clothes - my usual size! I thought 38 equalled a size 12! How stupidly vain of me. Anyway having bought that jacket Markles will murder me if I ever don't fit in it, so its a good thing Monday is only 2 days away. Diets always start on a Monday, don't you know.
Content that I was still my usual size I celebrated with steak and chips, and choc pud with custard for dessert. Well Ive got to store strength if I have a diet on the horizon!
Day 12 - oh to be a zillionaire...
Today I was meant to be going to a big market in Aix de Provance, about an hrs drive away, instead having had yet another night of bad dreams, this time involving a house full of dead and dying animals as part of an extreame ecologists natural experiment, I wake up far too late in my little studio, and steady my fears by making my usual wheetabix in bed.
I follow this with reading, drag myself out of bed with the thought of tottering about in my platform red shoes and little red dress and decide a trip to a chocolatiere is in order as my kettle has blown the fuse in half the studio leaving me without a coffee making source (or electricity in that half of the studio). While slurping coffee and munching cake, I have a lovely stilted conversation and am encouraged to visit Canne. Having been before I know it is an upmarket version of St Tropez, so I can expect more parading and drooling in shop windows.
Canne was exactly that, and it is nice to experience the high life occasionally. That said having spent a few hrs window shoppings, obviously unable to afford even a designer name tag let alone a full handbag, I decide two things. Number one - I need the loo and Two, im going to spoil myself! And so I swan into the Carlton Hotel and entered the marble elegance of their restrooms (Sean Penn, Micheal Douglas and George Clooney have also used the hotels facilities, and who knows maybe a posh girl celebrity has even graced the same toilet seat as me - oh dear, how sad!). I then decided there was a strong likelihood of getting a proper cup of tea here, so made myself comfy in the lounge. There, despite paying €10 for a cup of tea, I had it served in a teapot with a British crown on it, a dirty tea cup and no milk! But oh isn't it a joy when these haughty establishments get it so badly wrong and you get to complain. Mumble grumble, I will stick to my builders mug of tea thank you very much!
I was now into hour 5 of wandering streets in ridiculous heels, and was still surviving. I walked the marina looking at the huge boats, clocking those registered on the Isle of Man, and wondering what it would be like to swan about all the hot places of the world, set in such yachting luxury. The crews for some of them must have entered double figures! Oh to have zillions...but I'm sure it would get boring. For a start I would forever have to be flying my friends out to see me, or else I'd get lonely. Can't have pancake parties on my own!
I felt happier after pizza, driving back (singing dreadfully to 90s english pop classics) to my little studio. Basic pleasures are always more satisfying in the long run.
I follow this with reading, drag myself out of bed with the thought of tottering about in my platform red shoes and little red dress and decide a trip to a chocolatiere is in order as my kettle has blown the fuse in half the studio leaving me without a coffee making source (or electricity in that half of the studio). While slurping coffee and munching cake, I have a lovely stilted conversation and am encouraged to visit Canne. Having been before I know it is an upmarket version of St Tropez, so I can expect more parading and drooling in shop windows.
Canne was exactly that, and it is nice to experience the high life occasionally. That said having spent a few hrs window shoppings, obviously unable to afford even a designer name tag let alone a full handbag, I decide two things. Number one - I need the loo and Two, im going to spoil myself! And so I swan into the Carlton Hotel and entered the marble elegance of their restrooms (Sean Penn, Micheal Douglas and George Clooney have also used the hotels facilities, and who knows maybe a posh girl celebrity has even graced the same toilet seat as me - oh dear, how sad!). I then decided there was a strong likelihood of getting a proper cup of tea here, so made myself comfy in the lounge. There, despite paying €10 for a cup of tea, I had it served in a teapot with a British crown on it, a dirty tea cup and no milk! But oh isn't it a joy when these haughty establishments get it so badly wrong and you get to complain. Mumble grumble, I will stick to my builders mug of tea thank you very much!
I was now into hour 5 of wandering streets in ridiculous heels, and was still surviving. I walked the marina looking at the huge boats, clocking those registered on the Isle of Man, and wondering what it would be like to swan about all the hot places of the world, set in such yachting luxury. The crews for some of them must have entered double figures! Oh to have zillions...but I'm sure it would get boring. For a start I would forever have to be flying my friends out to see me, or else I'd get lonely. Can't have pancake parties on my own!
I felt happier after pizza, driving back (singing dreadfully to 90s english pop classics) to my little studio. Basic pleasures are always more satisfying in the long run.
Day 11 - Please officer I'm not a complete numpty
Given I am in this part of the world, I thought I really should make the effort and drive to St Tropez. It used to be 'the' place to go, but I dont remember being overly impressed last time I was here.
Indeed I decided to have lunch in St Maxine on the way as I didnt feel any hurry to get to St Tropez. Upon arrival, the marina is heaving with tourists getting off the boats, its dirty, dated, and has mass produced art being pawned on the promenade. I know it makes me sound snobby but this area is just so tacky. However persever! Nip into the cobbled lanes and there are wonderful boutiques and everything becomes so much more pleasurable.
It can be a lovely places to saunter, shop and eat ice cream, just avoid the marina front. I wasted the afternoon, wondering if I should have eaten so much cake, pastries and cheese loaded bread - the clothes were just so tempting but you cant help but feel like a 10 ton tessy compared to the locals.
For dinner, I headed back to St Maxine, found a wonderful little Moroccan inspired place and opted fpr a slighly more healthy stir fry. Fortunately with no wine as lucky me got stopped in the random breath tests by the police! This was my first time...how exciting...so I didnt know what to do, or the language, but knew I hadnt had a drop to drink all day so just nervously enjoyed the experience. However I was still nervous and upon passing the breath test promptly stalled the car in front of the police man and seemed to take an age to drive away. Oh golly what a numpty!
Never mind though, its all good fun :-)
Indeed I decided to have lunch in St Maxine on the way as I didnt feel any hurry to get to St Tropez. Upon arrival, the marina is heaving with tourists getting off the boats, its dirty, dated, and has mass produced art being pawned on the promenade. I know it makes me sound snobby but this area is just so tacky. However persever! Nip into the cobbled lanes and there are wonderful boutiques and everything becomes so much more pleasurable.
It can be a lovely places to saunter, shop and eat ice cream, just avoid the marina front. I wasted the afternoon, wondering if I should have eaten so much cake, pastries and cheese loaded bread - the clothes were just so tempting but you cant help but feel like a 10 ton tessy compared to the locals.
For dinner, I headed back to St Maxine, found a wonderful little Moroccan inspired place and opted fpr a slighly more healthy stir fry. Fortunately with no wine as lucky me got stopped in the random breath tests by the police! This was my first time...how exciting...so I didnt know what to do, or the language, but knew I hadnt had a drop to drink all day so just nervously enjoyed the experience. However I was still nervous and upon passing the breath test promptly stalled the car in front of the police man and seemed to take an age to drive away. Oh golly what a numpty!
Never mind though, its all good fun :-)
Day 10 - sun glorious sun!
Day 10
It is fair to say the weather has been rather disappointing. I've had to wear jumpers and my rain mac on a number of occasions which wasn't really what I was hoping for, and the forecast is for a week full of rain, but today is glorious sun, so out comes the lobster body (though turning more albino lobster by the day).
Here at the studio is a shared bbq, an old style thing that uses wood not charcoal, with a cute chimney. What with my many man accomplishments, I decide fire making will be easy, and potter off to the butchers. The butcher had a special burger making machine, so I could choose how big I wanted it ( myveyes are always bigger than my belly!), and a spicy sausage as well. Now team wood, waste paper, matches and a hungry Maria and what could possibly go wrong? Actually nothing...I know disappointing...there was lots of smoke, but sufficient heat for me to have a scrumptious meal, complete with salad and pan fried mushrooms cooked in lemon - Yum!
I then whiled away the rest of the day reading in the sun...until bedtime. So not the most productive of days but a wonderful one non the less.
I should say if anyone wants to come visit, book the studio, villa or apartment, you can take a look at the website:
http://thecotedazur.moonfruit.com
I'm loving it here!
It is fair to say the weather has been rather disappointing. I've had to wear jumpers and my rain mac on a number of occasions which wasn't really what I was hoping for, and the forecast is for a week full of rain, but today is glorious sun, so out comes the lobster body (though turning more albino lobster by the day).
Here at the studio is a shared bbq, an old style thing that uses wood not charcoal, with a cute chimney. What with my many man accomplishments, I decide fire making will be easy, and potter off to the butchers. The butcher had a special burger making machine, so I could choose how big I wanted it ( myveyes are always bigger than my belly!), and a spicy sausage as well. Now team wood, waste paper, matches and a hungry Maria and what could possibly go wrong? Actually nothing...I know disappointing...there was lots of smoke, but sufficient heat for me to have a scrumptious meal, complete with salad and pan fried mushrooms cooked in lemon - Yum!
I then whiled away the rest of the day reading in the sun...until bedtime. So not the most productive of days but a wonderful one non the less.
I should say if anyone wants to come visit, book the studio, villa or apartment, you can take a look at the website:
http://thecotedazur.moonfruit.com
I'm loving it here!
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Day 9 - I need 2 chickens, 2 lovebirds, a rabbit, vegetables and...
Day 9
Yay market day! Not that I'm sad or anything but I've been waiting all week for another potter about the big market. Huge bag in tow, I tottered off to practise my French and buy lots of fresh food. But not before a trip to boulangerie for a morning pastry to go with my coffee. I know all this indulgent food is coming back to bite me. I'm definitely sporting more of a waddle than a swagger. Paps, I don't suppose you want to adopt a Maria as your guinea pig for healthy living? I could make courgette cake, surely that is a veggie portion?
After a successful purchase of enough salad to feed 10 rabbits, I decide it would be a lovely idea to smarten up the tiny garden as a thank you to my host for letting me stay. So off to the jardiniere (garden centre), which rather excitedly also called itself an animalerie. Roll forward to two hrs of me imagining how lovely it would be to have chickens, rabbits, a giant grey parrot, a pair of cute loved up love birds....and some nice flowers. I really could waste my life away in those places.
Having I initially picked up lettuce, strawberry plants and other veggies. I reign myself in and pick up lilies, anenomies and some pretty red flowers instead. Though in the following 3 hrs of gardening I did find several mini terracotta pots so maybe I can sneak a few cute herbs in? Yay another excuse to go back! I am so loving this way of life.
Cue more wine, fresh fish and salad for dinner followed by a box of chocolates while reading in bed and who could fail to be happy?
Enjoy your day, catch up soon xxx
Yay market day! Not that I'm sad or anything but I've been waiting all week for another potter about the big market. Huge bag in tow, I tottered off to practise my French and buy lots of fresh food. But not before a trip to boulangerie for a morning pastry to go with my coffee. I know all this indulgent food is coming back to bite me. I'm definitely sporting more of a waddle than a swagger. Paps, I don't suppose you want to adopt a Maria as your guinea pig for healthy living? I could make courgette cake, surely that is a veggie portion?
After a successful purchase of enough salad to feed 10 rabbits, I decide it would be a lovely idea to smarten up the tiny garden as a thank you to my host for letting me stay. So off to the jardiniere (garden centre), which rather excitedly also called itself an animalerie. Roll forward to two hrs of me imagining how lovely it would be to have chickens, rabbits, a giant grey parrot, a pair of cute loved up love birds....and some nice flowers. I really could waste my life away in those places.
Having I initially picked up lettuce, strawberry plants and other veggies. I reign myself in and pick up lilies, anenomies and some pretty red flowers instead. Though in the following 3 hrs of gardening I did find several mini terracotta pots so maybe I can sneak a few cute herbs in? Yay another excuse to go back! I am so loving this way of life.
Cue more wine, fresh fish and salad for dinner followed by a box of chocolates while reading in bed and who could fail to be happy?
Enjoy your day, catch up soon xxx
Day 8 - A visitor in the night
Day 8
So whats a poor girl to do...innocently sleeping alone in my studio (in an as yet undisclosed specific location), and yet as I catch my much needed beauty sleep, I receive a visitor in the night! Only after the deed did he bother to tell me his name...Frank. So obvious a name for such a devient I could have guessed it. And so yes, I'm wounded and feeling the shame of some stranger stealing from me in the night, but you can bet your bottom dollar, that blighter Frank wont know whats hit him when he gets a whiff of the my new defences - Moziblast 2000!
Ok and back to semi normal conversation...I smothered my many bites in savlon and got on with the day. Now I'm feeling happy pottering about in the car, I ventured further afield to St Maxime. Just as lovely as Frejuis, perhaps even slightly more up market, it is filled with gorgeous boutiques, restaurants and the compulsory marina full of ridiculously expensive yachts. To give the french due credit all bar the tourists are well dressed and thus in some vain attempt to fit in I had teemed a nice skirt with platform red suade shoes. What I hadnt accounted for was cobbled streets and teeming rain. And so as I tried my best to totter at speed without breaking my ankles to avoid getting drenched (no I didnt think to coordinate an umbrella with my outfit) I so almost fell, and accidently grabbed hold of some unsuspecting chap, and shireked "oh pardon mersoir!". In fairness he was nice about it, although I'm left with the delightful knowledge that I'm just as capable of looking a tit in France as I am in England. Actually I seem to have a greater propensity for it here in France. I suppose it could have been worse, I could have shrieked "oh balls!", or something equally eloquent. Anyway I very much enjoyed St Maxine and would gladly go back, but next time with an unlimited credit card. Well a girl can dream...oh and sensible shoes!
I've also decided that I need (not to be confused with want) a little leather jacket. Everyone seems to have one and it so smartens up a pair of jeans in that effortless smart/casual sort of way.
Back at the studio, I whittered away on facebook with my mum for most of the evening all the while slurping wine until I realised to my horror that I'd gone drank the whole lot! And so sitting sozzled on my own I thought it a good idea to pull the sofa bed out and watch an ancient comedy film (free with the sunday suppliment) about a dying mans last wishes to have his ashes spread at Morecambe Bay - a riveting storyline I know. In fairness the start and end were great...as for the middle, well god knows I was sound asleep :-)
So whats a poor girl to do...innocently sleeping alone in my studio (in an as yet undisclosed specific location), and yet as I catch my much needed beauty sleep, I receive a visitor in the night! Only after the deed did he bother to tell me his name...Frank. So obvious a name for such a devient I could have guessed it. And so yes, I'm wounded and feeling the shame of some stranger stealing from me in the night, but you can bet your bottom dollar, that blighter Frank wont know whats hit him when he gets a whiff of the my new defences - Moziblast 2000!
Ok and back to semi normal conversation...I smothered my many bites in savlon and got on with the day. Now I'm feeling happy pottering about in the car, I ventured further afield to St Maxime. Just as lovely as Frejuis, perhaps even slightly more up market, it is filled with gorgeous boutiques, restaurants and the compulsory marina full of ridiculously expensive yachts. To give the french due credit all bar the tourists are well dressed and thus in some vain attempt to fit in I had teemed a nice skirt with platform red suade shoes. What I hadnt accounted for was cobbled streets and teeming rain. And so as I tried my best to totter at speed without breaking my ankles to avoid getting drenched (no I didnt think to coordinate an umbrella with my outfit) I so almost fell, and accidently grabbed hold of some unsuspecting chap, and shireked "oh pardon mersoir!". In fairness he was nice about it, although I'm left with the delightful knowledge that I'm just as capable of looking a tit in France as I am in England. Actually I seem to have a greater propensity for it here in France. I suppose it could have been worse, I could have shrieked "oh balls!", or something equally eloquent. Anyway I very much enjoyed St Maxine and would gladly go back, but next time with an unlimited credit card. Well a girl can dream...oh and sensible shoes!
I've also decided that I need (not to be confused with want) a little leather jacket. Everyone seems to have one and it so smartens up a pair of jeans in that effortless smart/casual sort of way.
Back at the studio, I whittered away on facebook with my mum for most of the evening all the while slurping wine until I realised to my horror that I'd gone drank the whole lot! And so sitting sozzled on my own I thought it a good idea to pull the sofa bed out and watch an ancient comedy film (free with the sunday suppliment) about a dying mans last wishes to have his ashes spread at Morecambe Bay - a riveting storyline I know. In fairness the start and end were great...as for the middle, well god knows I was sound asleep :-)
Monday, 22 April 2013
Day 7 - Just an ordinary day...
Day 7
I suppose it was inevitable it should happen...we cant live odd wierd days of random adventure everyday forever. Shame though, because today was just so ordinary.
I had a nice lie in, made myself the usual wheetabix breakfast and had it in bed with a mug of tea (still British at heart lol). Sunday mornings are for cleaning and the joys of a two roomed studio is that this takes 20 minutes tops :-) With all sparkly and the bed sheets blowing in the wind, I had a natter with Markles, sent telepathic birthday wishes to Jasper and headed back to Frejuis. The ingredients of a blissfull Sunday - pottering about, pizza, wine and an ice cream in the sun.
When at last bored of random wanderings, I ventured home and as it was decidedly nippy but still sunny, I made a pillow and blanket nest on the courtyard floor. Here I alternated between reading, drinking wine and the joys of a lovely swadder (light sleep). I was lured in to the studio by bread and cheese (and salad), which I decadently ate in bed while listening to Stings greatest hits (a paradox for many of you I'm sure). I finshed my third book in a week, Tom Sharpes - The Gropes, which was his usual blend of eccentric humour, and fell into a deep sleep.
P.s. my only slight excitment. I found a snail trail on the garden wall, and followed it, but it came to a mysterious dead end. No snail could be found at either end...the plot thickens. What ever has happened to snail?
I suppose it was inevitable it should happen...we cant live odd wierd days of random adventure everyday forever. Shame though, because today was just so ordinary.
I had a nice lie in, made myself the usual wheetabix breakfast and had it in bed with a mug of tea (still British at heart lol). Sunday mornings are for cleaning and the joys of a two roomed studio is that this takes 20 minutes tops :-) With all sparkly and the bed sheets blowing in the wind, I had a natter with Markles, sent telepathic birthday wishes to Jasper and headed back to Frejuis. The ingredients of a blissfull Sunday - pottering about, pizza, wine and an ice cream in the sun.
When at last bored of random wanderings, I ventured home and as it was decidedly nippy but still sunny, I made a pillow and blanket nest on the courtyard floor. Here I alternated between reading, drinking wine and the joys of a lovely swadder (light sleep). I was lured in to the studio by bread and cheese (and salad), which I decadently ate in bed while listening to Stings greatest hits (a paradox for many of you I'm sure). I finshed my third book in a week, Tom Sharpes - The Gropes, which was his usual blend of eccentric humour, and fell into a deep sleep.
P.s. my only slight excitment. I found a snail trail on the garden wall, and followed it, but it came to a mysterious dead end. No snail could be found at either end...the plot thickens. What ever has happened to snail?
Saturday, 20 April 2013
Day 6 - Adventures of a hobbit...
Day 6
Ok so perhaps its fair to say that I've been behaving like something of a hobbit, but you know I have a lovely little pad and can happily potter about to my own delights. Still I must not waste this opportunity and so decided this little hobbit should go on a mini adventure!
I woke nice and early, whispered 'morning snail' so as to not wake him and went out to the car having packed all the things you might need for a day trip I.e. book, money and sunglasses. 5 minutes later I'm back in the house, wondering how 1 tree could possibly drop so many sticky buds on my car in 2 days. So backnout i ventured with a bowl of soapy water and scrubber. This turned out to be a lovely thing to do in the sun, whilst wearing a summer dress and heels, oh very glamorous I know :-) Firstly I realised the car has back doors (I really am so unobservant), secondly a french man stopped to say what a pretty baby/child I was, while holding his trousers up because the belt had broke...I know I attract all the wierdos! But you would never guess, he used to live in Chester, where I was born! So that was nice. I then had a chap pull up to me, and in french jokingly say 'when your done love, you can do mine'. And so their humour isn't too different from ours.
Now set in my sparkly white car, I drove to Frejuis, got wonderfully lost and marvelled at how lovely it was. I then decided I should make more of this cafe culture by pretending the gorgeous yacht in the marina ( of which there were many) was mine, and strutting about wishing I had a mini poodle at my side and a sugar daddy (Markles thats you) awaiting me on board with cocktails for after Ive finished my shopping trip at Louis Vuitton. I must say coming home to a snail was a bit of a come down after that dream but hey I'm still happy or was until I did actually make it home...oh the drama to come!
I then went back on the moterway and drove all along the coast through stunning scenery - its so green and hilly with houses perched everywhere overlooking the sea. Just lovely! By the time I made it home it was late afternoon and my bum was sore from having sat so long, so I decided to go and find the little bay where I used to go tomb diving - I know radical me! I figured it wasnt very far away, at least it wasnt in my memory. My memory was wrong, after a very long walk in my wedges along a busy road not designed for pedestrians, being tooted at by coaches overtaking on bends, I found a place I remembered. Not the bay but a cafe, which duly served me coffee and pain au chocolate. All in all I had walked 6 miles, so at least the pastry was guilt free.
This was when the drama happened, I came home, went to check on my only friend who I had popped back in his pot outside in the sun...and he was gone! No goodbye snail trail note, no empty snail corpe, he had just upped and vanished. And so I sat wondering why he should be so cruel, should I have bought him flowers, a diamond for his shell, fluffed his soil before bed? Rejected, I went out to the shop to buy my first bottle of wine, to toast a friendship lost. And would you believe it, I met a lovely Rastafarian begger and his dog Ella, we sat having a lovely if somewhat stilted natter in French; he was travelling in his mini camper van through Spain, Portugal, France and Italy, all the while little Ella was excitedly biting my hands and wagging her tail. It cheered me up no end. Who needs snails when you have friendly beggers and their dog's. Plus my first proper french conversation with someone other than Madame Crutchley, (who is getting boring, as she only talks about herself, and oddly I already know what she is going to say).
I celebrated a wonderful day, by having my first meal out and having chosen the €20 euro tourist meal, prepared myself for an evil deed. Lying before me, 6 of snails cousins bubbling away in garlic and herbs. Yes I ate them, and yes I feel terrible about it. They weren't even tasty. But I couldnt let them die in vain could I? Lets just hope snail doesnt come back, I dont think I could look him in the eye again :-(
The next horror of the evening was seeing Markles beard chop photos, Arghhh! Visable chin is definitely going to take some getting used to, but I'm hugely proud he did it xxx
Oh oh oh, and how could I forgot, I bought a little french cow (a little crystal one, don't panic) she was just too cute to resist! And so I do have someone to talk to :-)
Glad to hear also that you were having fun in the sun vack home!
Bye for now xxx
Ok so perhaps its fair to say that I've been behaving like something of a hobbit, but you know I have a lovely little pad and can happily potter about to my own delights. Still I must not waste this opportunity and so decided this little hobbit should go on a mini adventure!
I woke nice and early, whispered 'morning snail' so as to not wake him and went out to the car having packed all the things you might need for a day trip I.e. book, money and sunglasses. 5 minutes later I'm back in the house, wondering how 1 tree could possibly drop so many sticky buds on my car in 2 days. So backnout i ventured with a bowl of soapy water and scrubber. This turned out to be a lovely thing to do in the sun, whilst wearing a summer dress and heels, oh very glamorous I know :-) Firstly I realised the car has back doors (I really am so unobservant), secondly a french man stopped to say what a pretty baby/child I was, while holding his trousers up because the belt had broke...I know I attract all the wierdos! But you would never guess, he used to live in Chester, where I was born! So that was nice. I then had a chap pull up to me, and in french jokingly say 'when your done love, you can do mine'. And so their humour isn't too different from ours.
Now set in my sparkly white car, I drove to Frejuis, got wonderfully lost and marvelled at how lovely it was. I then decided I should make more of this cafe culture by pretending the gorgeous yacht in the marina ( of which there were many) was mine, and strutting about wishing I had a mini poodle at my side and a sugar daddy (Markles thats you) awaiting me on board with cocktails for after Ive finished my shopping trip at Louis Vuitton. I must say coming home to a snail was a bit of a come down after that dream but hey I'm still happy or was until I did actually make it home...oh the drama to come!
I then went back on the moterway and drove all along the coast through stunning scenery - its so green and hilly with houses perched everywhere overlooking the sea. Just lovely! By the time I made it home it was late afternoon and my bum was sore from having sat so long, so I decided to go and find the little bay where I used to go tomb diving - I know radical me! I figured it wasnt very far away, at least it wasnt in my memory. My memory was wrong, after a very long walk in my wedges along a busy road not designed for pedestrians, being tooted at by coaches overtaking on bends, I found a place I remembered. Not the bay but a cafe, which duly served me coffee and pain au chocolate. All in all I had walked 6 miles, so at least the pastry was guilt free.
This was when the drama happened, I came home, went to check on my only friend who I had popped back in his pot outside in the sun...and he was gone! No goodbye snail trail note, no empty snail corpe, he had just upped and vanished. And so I sat wondering why he should be so cruel, should I have bought him flowers, a diamond for his shell, fluffed his soil before bed? Rejected, I went out to the shop to buy my first bottle of wine, to toast a friendship lost. And would you believe it, I met a lovely Rastafarian begger and his dog Ella, we sat having a lovely if somewhat stilted natter in French; he was travelling in his mini camper van through Spain, Portugal, France and Italy, all the while little Ella was excitedly biting my hands and wagging her tail. It cheered me up no end. Who needs snails when you have friendly beggers and their dog's. Plus my first proper french conversation with someone other than Madame Crutchley, (who is getting boring, as she only talks about herself, and oddly I already know what she is going to say).
I celebrated a wonderful day, by having my first meal out and having chosen the €20 euro tourist meal, prepared myself for an evil deed. Lying before me, 6 of snails cousins bubbling away in garlic and herbs. Yes I ate them, and yes I feel terrible about it. They weren't even tasty. But I couldnt let them die in vain could I? Lets just hope snail doesnt come back, I dont think I could look him in the eye again :-(
The next horror of the evening was seeing Markles beard chop photos, Arghhh! Visable chin is definitely going to take some getting used to, but I'm hugely proud he did it xxx
Oh oh oh, and how could I forgot, I bought a little french cow (a little crystal one, don't panic) she was just too cute to resist! And so I do have someone to talk to :-)
Glad to hear also that you were having fun in the sun vack home!
Bye for now xxx
Friday, 19 April 2013
Day 5 - Lobsters like rain
Day 5
Well I'm afraid I've been punished for my french patriotism - today the English weather caught up with me and has decided to stay a few days. Ahh rain - the perfect weather for ducks. Except my garden has a snail, lizard (somewhere) and me. Is it wrong that I bought snail and his pot indoors? I mean come on....you wouldn't leave your only friend out in the rain would you? Anyway we are very snug (me under my blankies and snail with his grass).
I was randomly wide awake at 3:30 this morning, and with the appetite of a small army so munched my way through pancakes and wheetabix, surely the healthy cancels out the naughty? My coffee machine is on the blink, and I dont have english tea bags so the world is falling apart, but instead of panicking I stayed in bed and completed my 2nd book. I'm now out of books, and having to read 'man books' left here by previous guests, so if I start coming over all macho, claiming to have caught robbers, jumped from planes and seduced things all before breakfast you know its just the Andy Mcnab talking.
I also turned left! Wow exciting I know. I found the beach literally 2 mins from my studio, got comfy, ventured into the sea, whimped out because it was cold, and ended up writing 2 lovely erna stories; one about sand monsters that nibbles your toes, and the other about jumping in the waves. I think they will be better shown with illustrations so unless you complain bitterly, you will have to wait :-)
The inevitable then happened. I ate bread and cheese, while wondering how the sexy 60 something french topless lady could possibly stay so slim while eating aforementioned French diet. Eating bread and cheese did not help me in this ponder, but instead I realised my friend Paps should definitely open a french branch of liberte fitness. Excercise on a warm beach is much nicer than a soggy field. Paps all you need do is ask, and I will make the sacrifice and come live here and set it all up for you...aren't I kind :-P
Back at the studio I decided a shower and nap were called for. Now this being a rather basic studio, the shower is definately not designed with twosome frolicking ala sexy french man and petite lobster woman, under blasts of hot steamy water (I think I will give the x rated writing a miss - far too prude and lacking in imagination, although I'm sure I could use the word baguette in a more suggestive manner...mmmm baguette, tasty!). Abort abort return to sensible(ish) writing. Anyway as it happens its not really designed with people in mind at all, I suppose perhaps small dogs? Truth be known, I have to siddle through the small door gap sideways, then pull them shut. Each shower has involved a slight argument with said doors, but I thought I was getting the hang of them. Nope not so...they trapped me in the shower for a good five minuetes while I lifted and shuffled and generally tried to bang my way out. Hmm next shower will involve open doors and floor mopping, especially as the studio is so tucked away I'm not entirely sure when I would be found. Trapped cold, wet and naked in a glass box looking forlornly at the baguette and cheese on the counter, and instead eating soap. Not the most glamorous way to end my days!
After that mini ordeal it was definitely nap time, and would you believe it I completely zonked out and when I did finally wake, it was Markles natter time, followed by dinner. So yes not the most fruitful of days. Never mind though.
Bon nuit my friends xxx
Well I'm afraid I've been punished for my french patriotism - today the English weather caught up with me and has decided to stay a few days. Ahh rain - the perfect weather for ducks. Except my garden has a snail, lizard (somewhere) and me. Is it wrong that I bought snail and his pot indoors? I mean come on....you wouldn't leave your only friend out in the rain would you? Anyway we are very snug (me under my blankies and snail with his grass).
I was randomly wide awake at 3:30 this morning, and with the appetite of a small army so munched my way through pancakes and wheetabix, surely the healthy cancels out the naughty? My coffee machine is on the blink, and I dont have english tea bags so the world is falling apart, but instead of panicking I stayed in bed and completed my 2nd book. I'm now out of books, and having to read 'man books' left here by previous guests, so if I start coming over all macho, claiming to have caught robbers, jumped from planes and seduced things all before breakfast you know its just the Andy Mcnab talking.
I also turned left! Wow exciting I know. I found the beach literally 2 mins from my studio, got comfy, ventured into the sea, whimped out because it was cold, and ended up writing 2 lovely erna stories; one about sand monsters that nibbles your toes, and the other about jumping in the waves. I think they will be better shown with illustrations so unless you complain bitterly, you will have to wait :-)
The inevitable then happened. I ate bread and cheese, while wondering how the sexy 60 something french topless lady could possibly stay so slim while eating aforementioned French diet. Eating bread and cheese did not help me in this ponder, but instead I realised my friend Paps should definitely open a french branch of liberte fitness. Excercise on a warm beach is much nicer than a soggy field. Paps all you need do is ask, and I will make the sacrifice and come live here and set it all up for you...aren't I kind :-P
Back at the studio I decided a shower and nap were called for. Now this being a rather basic studio, the shower is definately not designed with twosome frolicking ala sexy french man and petite lobster woman, under blasts of hot steamy water (I think I will give the x rated writing a miss - far too prude and lacking in imagination, although I'm sure I could use the word baguette in a more suggestive manner...mmmm baguette, tasty!). Abort abort return to sensible(ish) writing. Anyway as it happens its not really designed with people in mind at all, I suppose perhaps small dogs? Truth be known, I have to siddle through the small door gap sideways, then pull them shut. Each shower has involved a slight argument with said doors, but I thought I was getting the hang of them. Nope not so...they trapped me in the shower for a good five minuetes while I lifted and shuffled and generally tried to bang my way out. Hmm next shower will involve open doors and floor mopping, especially as the studio is so tucked away I'm not entirely sure when I would be found. Trapped cold, wet and naked in a glass box looking forlornly at the baguette and cheese on the counter, and instead eating soap. Not the most glamorous way to end my days!
After that mini ordeal it was definitely nap time, and would you believe it I completely zonked out and when I did finally wake, it was Markles natter time, followed by dinner. So yes not the most fruitful of days. Never mind though.
Bon nuit my friends xxx
Thursday, 18 April 2013
Day 4 - French Patriotism
Day 4
So after yesterdays technology woes I wowed to get them resolved today. It's bad enough not being able mindlessly whitter to people without being unable to mindlessly blog whitterings.
So after a consultation with my french book, and the writing down of sentances I hope explained my problem and request for them to help me fix it, I toodled off to the tourist info place. They were lovely, understood my garbled French and tried and failed to fix my phone. Instead they directed me back to the orange shop, but this time with a hand written note to say it wasnt dumb english girls fault, french man couldn't do it either. So I felt better :-)
While in town I also worked out how to buy postcards, and then realised the square building I was meant to be looking for yesterday (tabac) meant tabaconist, and they are in all towns, thus I had the answer on my door step. I bought phone credit and stamps, and yet another french person said they couldn't sort my internet credit out....hmmm. Still Stinkie will recieve an awful birthday card, the words on which I don't understand, and Markles, Jasper and Olive have a postcard to look forward to. Surely it will arrive before I get back?
Back in the car, which I realised today is actually a Peugeot not a Citroen as previously stated - proves how observant I am. Anyway its white. Back to orange shop, where original friendly french man was, he sold me €15 internet credit in his shop, called the number, and voila..done! So why couldn't grumpy french man do that yesterday? Never mind, its fixed :-)
So for the rest of the day, I pottered about an antique fair, bought more cheese and strawberries (really must vary my diet more) oh and wheetabix because you know 4 days is a long time to go without! God I wish I had bought tea bags!
I then decided I deserved a rest and duly fell asleep in the sun, and thus have come out all patriotic for france, sporting milk bottle white legs, a blue dress and lobster red chest and shoulders. Oh the British, we do love our pursuit of lobster red tan, non of this sun in moderation rubbish. When you see it as infrequently as we do, you can surely understand?
I've also been a good girl and finished one of my homework books for the International Fiction book event im attending on the 18th May - so you know a little bit of work sorry I can't tell you the book - its a secret, but it was good so I will tell you when I can!). Even applied for a job today (in England not France - don't panic im not emigrating). Not sure the French would want me if I'm honest.
So anyway for tonights entertainment, in celebration of fixing stuff, Ive decided to have a pamper session. Toes spread ready for new nail varnish, mass de fluffing, and a lather in baby oil for the red bits. How exciting!
Oh other exciting news, for about 3 seconds I had another friend in the garden...a lizard! Unfortunately he didnt like me so buggered off. Snail or Mersoir Escargot as he prefers to be known, is slightly snooty and up himself but getting better and is my only french friend. So you know I'm being nice to him.
God I really am whittering rubbish...I will try and think of something good to say and do tomorrow. At the moment im planning to banish my hobbit like existance and turn left out of the studio (something I have still yet to do), go to the beach and clean the car windscreen/ work out how to add water under the bonnet so the car windwipers clean the screen when I ask them to. Gosh at this rate I will be capable of doing all the boy tasks...what will markles do?
Bon nuit, merci for reading xxx
So after yesterdays technology woes I wowed to get them resolved today. It's bad enough not being able mindlessly whitter to people without being unable to mindlessly blog whitterings.
So after a consultation with my french book, and the writing down of sentances I hope explained my problem and request for them to help me fix it, I toodled off to the tourist info place. They were lovely, understood my garbled French and tried and failed to fix my phone. Instead they directed me back to the orange shop, but this time with a hand written note to say it wasnt dumb english girls fault, french man couldn't do it either. So I felt better :-)
While in town I also worked out how to buy postcards, and then realised the square building I was meant to be looking for yesterday (tabac) meant tabaconist, and they are in all towns, thus I had the answer on my door step. I bought phone credit and stamps, and yet another french person said they couldn't sort my internet credit out....hmmm. Still Stinkie will recieve an awful birthday card, the words on which I don't understand, and Markles, Jasper and Olive have a postcard to look forward to. Surely it will arrive before I get back?
Back in the car, which I realised today is actually a Peugeot not a Citroen as previously stated - proves how observant I am. Anyway its white. Back to orange shop, where original friendly french man was, he sold me €15 internet credit in his shop, called the number, and voila..done! So why couldn't grumpy french man do that yesterday? Never mind, its fixed :-)
So for the rest of the day, I pottered about an antique fair, bought more cheese and strawberries (really must vary my diet more) oh and wheetabix because you know 4 days is a long time to go without! God I wish I had bought tea bags!
I then decided I deserved a rest and duly fell asleep in the sun, and thus have come out all patriotic for france, sporting milk bottle white legs, a blue dress and lobster red chest and shoulders. Oh the British, we do love our pursuit of lobster red tan, non of this sun in moderation rubbish. When you see it as infrequently as we do, you can surely understand?
I've also been a good girl and finished one of my homework books for the International Fiction book event im attending on the 18th May - so you know a little bit of work sorry I can't tell you the book - its a secret, but it was good so I will tell you when I can!). Even applied for a job today (in England not France - don't panic im not emigrating). Not sure the French would want me if I'm honest.
So anyway for tonights entertainment, in celebration of fixing stuff, Ive decided to have a pamper session. Toes spread ready for new nail varnish, mass de fluffing, and a lather in baby oil for the red bits. How exciting!
Oh other exciting news, for about 3 seconds I had another friend in the garden...a lizard! Unfortunately he didnt like me so buggered off. Snail or Mersoir Escargot as he prefers to be known, is slightly snooty and up himself but getting better and is my only french friend. So you know I'm being nice to him.
God I really am whittering rubbish...I will try and think of something good to say and do tomorrow. At the moment im planning to banish my hobbit like existance and turn left out of the studio (something I have still yet to do), go to the beach and clean the car windscreen/ work out how to add water under the bonnet so the car windwipers clean the screen when I ask them to. Gosh at this rate I will be capable of doing all the boy tasks...what will markles do?
Bon nuit, merci for reading xxx
Day 3 - French robots
Day 3 - caution will contain moaning...
Not content with the knowledge that i struggle to order bread, I woke very late (mmmm happy lie in) and was faced with an odd text massage suggesting I call a number to recredit phone, and my internet not working. Ok newly resourceful Maria can cope with this, I will just take it back to the shop and use my new French. Below is a play script of said act:
Maria: "jai une broken internet" (crazy woman points at wireless thing)
Shop man: grunt, snatch, takes it apart, types something into computer "vous avez 0 credit" man shrugs, and points to booklet which says in french buy more credit for €20
Maria: gasp.."how? bought on mardi per une month" look of horror on face
Shop man: "0 credit Madame"
Maria: "Facebook did it?" Puzzled face
Shop man: "non" blank face
Maria: "Skype did it?"
Shop man: "Oui, grand user" makes big hand gesture to help dim english lady
Maria: "so Facebook good (thumb up), Skype bad (thumb down)"
Shop man: "Oui" (man wonders to himself how this particular specimen managed to escape the evolutionary pond)
Maria: smiles meekly, "so...?"
Shop man: "blaa blaa blaa book shop credit" points away from his shop.
Ok so the last bit was not actually said but that is what Maria hears, and so potters off insearch of a book shop to buy credit. Has no luck, so shows wirelss thing to stranger who directs her back to orange shop.
Shop man rolls eyes, ends his personal call and draws map for stupid english lady. Points at car, road, and left. Maria grasps she has to get in the car and drive left to unknown place that sells credit (marked as a square on the map). Maria does this, stops asks another stranger, who says "non comprende". After aimless wandering about looking for the right square, Maria gets back in car, finds her way home via bakery for cereal baguette (which she buys in flawless french), asks baker about mobile phone text, who says call number...erm that means speaking to French people or robots over the phone!
Ok so I must stop talking about myself in the third person. I consoled myself with cheese and bread and made the call. Randomly pressed numbers if I understood a single word of the robot conversation and at one point wonder, while typing in my debit cards long number whether I might be mistakenly requesting a few million pounds worth of credit? Given how little is in the account i decide to continue until iv pressed all the buttons and the phone hangs up on me. Text comes through to say phone is valid until Nov 2013 hmmm great but does it have credit on it?
Decide to eat more bread, and notice tablet internet has fixed itself! Conclude speaking French is not all its cracked up to be, and spend what little of the day is left reading my book in the sun :-)
Oh also realised shops close at lunch time ( I did know this but had forgot), market was only on a tuesday and thus I should have bought food, and bought Stinkie the worst birthday card she is ever likely to receive (not that I have worked out how to post it!)
Also snail news: he is still recouperating in snail hospital. He seems happy and the grass appears shorter.
Anyway most importantly, im alive and my freckles are slowly converging into a tan.
Bonsoir xxx
Not content with the knowledge that i struggle to order bread, I woke very late (mmmm happy lie in) and was faced with an odd text massage suggesting I call a number to recredit phone, and my internet not working. Ok newly resourceful Maria can cope with this, I will just take it back to the shop and use my new French. Below is a play script of said act:
Maria: "jai une broken internet" (crazy woman points at wireless thing)
Shop man: grunt, snatch, takes it apart, types something into computer "vous avez 0 credit" man shrugs, and points to booklet which says in french buy more credit for €20
Maria: gasp.."how? bought on mardi per une month" look of horror on face
Shop man: "0 credit Madame"
Maria: "Facebook did it?" Puzzled face
Shop man: "non" blank face
Maria: "Skype did it?"
Shop man: "Oui, grand user" makes big hand gesture to help dim english lady
Maria: "so Facebook good (thumb up), Skype bad (thumb down)"
Shop man: "Oui" (man wonders to himself how this particular specimen managed to escape the evolutionary pond)
Maria: smiles meekly, "so...?"
Shop man: "blaa blaa blaa book shop credit" points away from his shop.
Ok so the last bit was not actually said but that is what Maria hears, and so potters off insearch of a book shop to buy credit. Has no luck, so shows wirelss thing to stranger who directs her back to orange shop.
Shop man rolls eyes, ends his personal call and draws map for stupid english lady. Points at car, road, and left. Maria grasps she has to get in the car and drive left to unknown place that sells credit (marked as a square on the map). Maria does this, stops asks another stranger, who says "non comprende". After aimless wandering about looking for the right square, Maria gets back in car, finds her way home via bakery for cereal baguette (which she buys in flawless french), asks baker about mobile phone text, who says call number...erm that means speaking to French people or robots over the phone!
Ok so I must stop talking about myself in the third person. I consoled myself with cheese and bread and made the call. Randomly pressed numbers if I understood a single word of the robot conversation and at one point wonder, while typing in my debit cards long number whether I might be mistakenly requesting a few million pounds worth of credit? Given how little is in the account i decide to continue until iv pressed all the buttons and the phone hangs up on me. Text comes through to say phone is valid until Nov 2013 hmmm great but does it have credit on it?
Decide to eat more bread, and notice tablet internet has fixed itself! Conclude speaking French is not all its cracked up to be, and spend what little of the day is left reading my book in the sun :-)
Oh also realised shops close at lunch time ( I did know this but had forgot), market was only on a tuesday and thus I should have bought food, and bought Stinkie the worst birthday card she is ever likely to receive (not that I have worked out how to post it!)
Also snail news: he is still recouperating in snail hospital. He seems happy and the grass appears shorter.
Anyway most importantly, im alive and my freckles are slowly converging into a tan.
Bonsoir xxx
Tuesday, 16 April 2013
Day 2 - french, snail but no garlic!
Day 2
Wow two days and I'm still about :-) Although Mark would likely doubt my sanity as im listening to 'my boy lollipop', and am so blatently going to put it back on again after writing and have a bop about. Yay for releasing my inner crazy!
Anyway back to topic, this morning I had a lovely lie in 7am - but no gorgeous wet nose prodding me awake, or breakfast brought to me in bed (I know im spoilt). Still, its nice sleeping like a starfish and the kitchen is 4 steps away so even I can manage that in the morning. Yoghurt, strawberries and honey with juice and coffee, can't believe I forgot to bring tea bags! You will notice a slightly healthy inclination...it soon ends.
As part of French living I thought I would try doing yoga in the mornings. Well the overly bendy cartoon lady on the app put me to shame, not helped by my daft decision to try and do it all on my bed, as there is very little floor space. Whacked my arms on the ceiling fan, almost fell off the back of the bed attempting downward dog and my half bend is the same as my full bend (supposedly heads can touch your knees - not on my body!). On the floor I may have uaed extra muscles trying not to knock myself unconcious by falling off the bed. Tomorrow I will try doing this yoga malarkey outside once it warms up.
Next challenge was a potter about exploring my locality. I had decided to save up some excitement and not permitted myself to walk left out of my studio (thats tomorrows fun). Turning right was a great idea as I found thr market, which had an equal measure of ripped off branded clothing and french food. Despite knowing so little French its embarressing, I found an impromptu game of charades enabled me to buy a small bush for the garden, some lillies ( to mariarise the studio) and half French baguette. Still I felt very bad not being able to talk properly so made a concerted effort to study my french book.
Hmm happy learning while sat in a bikini on a swing chair, munching heavenly fig and walnut cheese with crusty bread. With hindsight I should have used the cheese as a reward, not a constant food source. At this rate I will look like a cheesy baguette - oh wait long and thin! Great! I will continue munching, I can put up with being smelly :-)
The afternoon was rather more dramatic; the sun had moved so I decided to get the garden furniture out. This was fine except the upside down table had water in it so I tried to balance it out of the door way. You guessed it, I dropped it, water everywhere and worse, I had knocked a snail of his wall. Closer inspection made me realise his shell was slightly damaged. He refused to grip his wall, so I decided he had a concussion and took him to snail hospital (plant pot with yummy grass in it). I later found him happily munching so don't feel as bad.
So ive spent most of the day talking a maria version of french to Madame Crutchley (lovely lady don't you know), fell asleep in the sun ( never a good idea!). Realised that my distant memory of having a tan is more likely my freckles gathering for a random rave (bopping away to my boy lollipop, like the rest of me), and despite getting the milk bottles out they have an in built immunity to sun, so I'm going to come home looking like an upside down latte.
Shock horror I also did some work, and was happy to hear we had two new practioners. Gail, one does baby yoga! Have you made one yet? :-)
Tonight im going to curl up with my book and get an early night. Unless the french for sex in the beach cocktail is Vous avez une Sex a la plage erm...cocktail? I really must add the last word or else find myself in right mischief!
Bonsoir, grand hug xxx
Wow two days and I'm still about :-) Although Mark would likely doubt my sanity as im listening to 'my boy lollipop', and am so blatently going to put it back on again after writing and have a bop about. Yay for releasing my inner crazy!
Anyway back to topic, this morning I had a lovely lie in 7am - but no gorgeous wet nose prodding me awake, or breakfast brought to me in bed (I know im spoilt). Still, its nice sleeping like a starfish and the kitchen is 4 steps away so even I can manage that in the morning. Yoghurt, strawberries and honey with juice and coffee, can't believe I forgot to bring tea bags! You will notice a slightly healthy inclination...it soon ends.
As part of French living I thought I would try doing yoga in the mornings. Well the overly bendy cartoon lady on the app put me to shame, not helped by my daft decision to try and do it all on my bed, as there is very little floor space. Whacked my arms on the ceiling fan, almost fell off the back of the bed attempting downward dog and my half bend is the same as my full bend (supposedly heads can touch your knees - not on my body!). On the floor I may have uaed extra muscles trying not to knock myself unconcious by falling off the bed. Tomorrow I will try doing this yoga malarkey outside once it warms up.
Next challenge was a potter about exploring my locality. I had decided to save up some excitement and not permitted myself to walk left out of my studio (thats tomorrows fun). Turning right was a great idea as I found thr market, which had an equal measure of ripped off branded clothing and french food. Despite knowing so little French its embarressing, I found an impromptu game of charades enabled me to buy a small bush for the garden, some lillies ( to mariarise the studio) and half French baguette. Still I felt very bad not being able to talk properly so made a concerted effort to study my french book.
Hmm happy learning while sat in a bikini on a swing chair, munching heavenly fig and walnut cheese with crusty bread. With hindsight I should have used the cheese as a reward, not a constant food source. At this rate I will look like a cheesy baguette - oh wait long and thin! Great! I will continue munching, I can put up with being smelly :-)
The afternoon was rather more dramatic; the sun had moved so I decided to get the garden furniture out. This was fine except the upside down table had water in it so I tried to balance it out of the door way. You guessed it, I dropped it, water everywhere and worse, I had knocked a snail of his wall. Closer inspection made me realise his shell was slightly damaged. He refused to grip his wall, so I decided he had a concussion and took him to snail hospital (plant pot with yummy grass in it). I later found him happily munching so don't feel as bad.
So ive spent most of the day talking a maria version of french to Madame Crutchley (lovely lady don't you know), fell asleep in the sun ( never a good idea!). Realised that my distant memory of having a tan is more likely my freckles gathering for a random rave (bopping away to my boy lollipop, like the rest of me), and despite getting the milk bottles out they have an in built immunity to sun, so I'm going to come home looking like an upside down latte.
Shock horror I also did some work, and was happy to hear we had two new practioners. Gail, one does baby yoga! Have you made one yet? :-)
Tonight im going to curl up with my book and get an early night. Unless the french for sex in the beach cocktail is Vous avez une Sex a la plage erm...cocktail? I really must add the last word or else find myself in right mischief!
Bonsoir, grand hug xxx
Day 2 am - je ne par palle francais
Bonjour,
Well thats as far as my french goes. I am quickly learning a few realities of being a Maria in france:
Well thats as far as my french goes. I am quickly learning a few realities of being a Maria in france:
- Marias can be silent for more than 5 mins - especially when they can't speak the local language
- Marias love sunbathing on a swing chair - mini adrenaline junkie :-)
- Maria s should have bought a friend or long 'back sunscreen applying hand' thing - expect lobster or milk bottle back when I return
- Fig and walnut cheese with fresh crusty bread should be used as a reward system for learning French, not as a constant food source while living in France
- Doing yoga on the bed because the floor is too small results in banging arms on fan - ouch! Plus almost falling off when balancing on one leg. Plus its much harder in general. Basically just a bad idea...
Anyway back to that french book...
Monday, 15 April 2013
Day 1 - Arghh! Driving in France and odd bed linen
Day 1
I have arrived! With only minor misshaps :-)
After a rediculously early start, made better with left over croissants for the journey to Gatwick ( with far too much flaky goodness left in the car instead of my belly, also congrats to car for making it to 100, 000 we were very worried you wouldn't), my flight was delayed thus allowing me extra sleepy time. Another plus was that this delayed the inevitable driving in France on my own for the first time.
The lovely man at the car shop very patiently explained the car and journey before gingerly handing over the keys (he even reversed it for me so I only had to go forward). I obviously wasn't looking or sounding confident. Anyway he was right to be worried as I bumped the car into a low concrete barrier while trying to leave the car park. Fortunately my little Citroen is made of strong stuff and wasnt affected. I then did a tour of the airport obviously forgetting the directions the man had told me. Good driving practise, especially as when I first got in, I had exclaimed in horror 'oh no there is no gear stick or handbrake!', oh wait there it is on my right - how odd!'. Despite this incompetence I drove at snail pace, talking myself through every basic element of driving, until I got comfy and started singing my numbers in French. Although I think I may have started to make it up after 30 :-)
My little studio is just as I remember, tiny but lovely. After another fun trip in the car, playing on round abouts, I found a super market, sorted a new phone number, internet, bed linen, towel and food. All very productive.
However on the issue of bed linen, it is very odd. Well I suppose its my own fault for not understanding the language but its a good guess to think largest packet would be duvet cover, medium packet is sheet and smallest is pillows? Hmm well only half right. What I actully bought is a sheet (great), huge giant sheet (what! Why, what purpose?) and a long sausage tube that I guessed you put two pillows in, thus forcing you to share the pillows rather than steal them in the night? Hmmm these French are too romantic. Which reminds me, whereas in Britain we have a drop of point, in france they call it the Kiss and Drop point. Thus depending on how sceptical you are, you are either encouraged to be romantically slushy when saying au reviour or this is the official 'your dumped spot'.
Anyway, Ive survived my first night and now have to decide what to do with myself for month!
I promise to add photos to blogs when I get back, having forgotten my camera to computer lead.
Keep in touch xxx
I have arrived! With only minor misshaps :-)
After a rediculously early start, made better with left over croissants for the journey to Gatwick ( with far too much flaky goodness left in the car instead of my belly, also congrats to car for making it to 100, 000 we were very worried you wouldn't), my flight was delayed thus allowing me extra sleepy time. Another plus was that this delayed the inevitable driving in France on my own for the first time.
The lovely man at the car shop very patiently explained the car and journey before gingerly handing over the keys (he even reversed it for me so I only had to go forward). I obviously wasn't looking or sounding confident. Anyway he was right to be worried as I bumped the car into a low concrete barrier while trying to leave the car park. Fortunately my little Citroen is made of strong stuff and wasnt affected. I then did a tour of the airport obviously forgetting the directions the man had told me. Good driving practise, especially as when I first got in, I had exclaimed in horror 'oh no there is no gear stick or handbrake!', oh wait there it is on my right - how odd!'. Despite this incompetence I drove at snail pace, talking myself through every basic element of driving, until I got comfy and started singing my numbers in French. Although I think I may have started to make it up after 30 :-)
My little studio is just as I remember, tiny but lovely. After another fun trip in the car, playing on round abouts, I found a super market, sorted a new phone number, internet, bed linen, towel and food. All very productive.
However on the issue of bed linen, it is very odd. Well I suppose its my own fault for not understanding the language but its a good guess to think largest packet would be duvet cover, medium packet is sheet and smallest is pillows? Hmm well only half right. What I actully bought is a sheet (great), huge giant sheet (what! Why, what purpose?) and a long sausage tube that I guessed you put two pillows in, thus forcing you to share the pillows rather than steal them in the night? Hmmm these French are too romantic. Which reminds me, whereas in Britain we have a drop of point, in france they call it the Kiss and Drop point. Thus depending on how sceptical you are, you are either encouraged to be romantically slushy when saying au reviour or this is the official 'your dumped spot'.
Anyway, Ive survived my first night and now have to decide what to do with myself for month!
I promise to add photos to blogs when I get back, having forgotten my camera to computer lead.
Keep in touch xxx
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