To Tokyo via London

There's always something that doesn't go quite according to plan and I was fully expecting it to involve me...and sure enough, I arrived at check-in only to be told that only 1 piece of checked-in luggage up to 23kg was permitted to be checked in. I had 2 pieces, one of 15kg and one of around 10kg (although by the time I got to KL this had magically become 28kg despite the deliberate loss of a pair of boots and my no-longer-required and well-worn-out winter jacket.

At least the kind BA lady suggested that I carry my 10kg rucksack as hand luggage, and through I went. For those interested, we flew over East Anglia before crossing the North Sea to the north of Denmark, flying directly over Stockholm and Helsinki before skirting the top of Russia and sitting over Siberia until we dropped down almost along the length of Japan to Tokyo. The flight was 12 hours but would have been much more if we hadn't used the curvature of the earth to significantly shorten our route. This was shown to me later when it took 7.5 hours to get from Tokyo to Kuala Lumpur which seems a lot closer but with no shortcut help from the earth's circumference.

Tokyo is very mild - clear skies and brilliantly sunny and is not really what I expected. I think I had 'franticness' associated with Tokyo (images of train staff pushing people on to trains in rush-hour) but it is actually a disciplined, exceedingly polite society


We are staying in an area called Shibuya - home of the painfully fashion-conscious and er, plus me, for the time being. Marching around with all my luggage and heavy walking shoes is the antithesis of all these beautiful people in their beautiful clothes and that's even - or rather, especially, the men. These guys carry clutch Louis Vuitton bags and little designer handbags to go with their uber-coiffed hair, big bug-eye glasses and very tight jeans and boots.



People watching takes on a whole new meaning here...

Merry Christmas!

Christmas in the Lakes

Eating, sleeping, watching TV, walking, talking, shopping, swimming, sauna-ing, laughing, playing, reading, stroking cats, drinking, and taking some nice photos.

Goodbye Paris...hello Lakes...

Goodbye Paris...

Hello Lakes...

Things I am looking forward to:

In no particular order:

1. Trying the tropics

2. Being closer to my family

3. Good TV

4. Service

5. A change of work pace

6. Being called 'doc' ;-)

7. Putting into practice what I've learnt

8. Seeing friends from Paris

9. Perspective on Paris

10. Researching something I love

11. Meeting new people

12. Scotland

13. A new laptop (thanks everyone for my fabulous gift!)

Things I will miss about Paris

In no particular order:

1. my friends

2. the late meals, late nights and late mornings

3. the museums of art, museums of fashion, museums of culture, museums of architecture, car museums, modern museums, interactive museums. You name it, Paris has got it, and I went to it.

4. The vistas: anywhere, anytime, look around. It's always amazing.

5. Using the line "I live in Paris"

6. My scooter life

7. The fisheries division of the OECD + its resident fish tank

8. Calling it home

9. My Church family

10. Good food, good wine, good wine, good food

11. Paris

Things I won't miss about Paris

In no particular order:

1. the French 'non'

2. getting pushed/shoved/elbowed/stepped on in the metro

3. the perpetrator refusing to apologise for the above behaviour

4. the bureaucracy

5. the paperwork attached to the bureaucracy

6. services such as phone and insurance companies continuing to take my money even though we both agree I am no longer a client

7. listening to everyone else have a 5 minute chat with the baker while the queue lengthens

8. My scooter life in winter

9. The rigidity of the French 'process'

The final Countdown....

So, I've entered my final weekend in Paris. It's something that was looming on the horizon for a while, as a date and a significant event. I suppose the last of anything is. My attitude approaching this weekend has been that each day is just another day in Paris, which has worked well so far and meant I have neither been trying to live in the past nor been paralysed by a fear of the future. However, the later goodbyes are with increasingly important people and it's becoming hard to ignore the fact that I am going to lose a daily life with people who are very important to me...people whom I had no idea existed 3 years ago, but whom are as part of my daily life as oui, non, wine and baguettes.

So this weekend was all about that, and if it had just been about that, I probably would have been alright, but as it turned out, I lost the key to my appartment. I realised this on Friday morning at work in the 16th when Emily (whose appartment it is) reminded me to not forget to return the duplicate key the following morning with the others. I honestly had no idea where it was. On Friday, I returned to the appartment in the 5th and hunted high and low while cleaning. No sign of it. Weighed down with the left-over baggage from the appartment, I dropped by a Christmas party in the 6th to 'say hello' (in France this involves half a bottle of wine) before arriving at dinner in the 20th over an hour late...but this is France so it made no difference.

On Saturday morning I travelled 12 km by metro from the 17th to the 5th, arriving at 9.30 in the morning in the freezing cold to give Emily the unhapy news that I didn't have her spare key. She was convinced I had put it on the keyring belonging to Blvd Voltaire and was confident it was now in the old flat. I had just enough time to re-cross Paris and grab a hot choc to warm up before our 2 hour choir rehearsal in the 8th. Then it was on to the 19th through the pouring icy rain for a Christmas apero before I retraced my steps back to the 17th, where the metro broke down. By this time I'd had enough and did what any sensible girl in Paris would do on her last weekend: had a manicure.

Me and my sparkling nails then went out for dinner with my homegroup girls and their partners in the 17th...unfortunately that metro made it a ride through the 8th to get there. For a bunch of Christians, a lot of alcohol was put away, but thankfully not enough to hamper my efforts to cross Paris to the 2nd arrondisement to join another Christmas party organised by work colleagues.

Sunday would have been a welcome lie-in, except that the only time I could get to my old flat in the 11th was during lie-in alloted time. I used the gap before lunch to go from there down to the 1st to do some final Christmas shopping before it was on to the 6th for a fabulous lunch. The rehearsal started at 1600 in the 8th but Sophie's kind company provided the taxi on her way to the airport. And there I stayed until after the Carol Concert...which saw me finally heading to my current home in the 17th.

This is (approximately) my weekend routing:

"well, I never!"

When I realised I would be selling my scooter, I contacted M. Babin of AXA Assurances with whom I have my contract to ask him how to go about cancelling my insurance. He informed me that it can only be done through a horribly long and very French procedure that would require multiple signed forms from me and an almost equal number from both the new owner, the police, and the new insurance company. I obliged, if not happily, and in the meantime they took an entire year's insurance anyway. This being no small sum, I have wanted to make sure that I get my 11-month reimbursement as soon as possible.

Having sold the scooter on 8 Nov, and submitted all requirements to M. Babin on 25 November, and having still not heard anything by 3 December, I asked a French friend of call dear M. Babin. My friend was told that everything was in order and the documents had been sent to the insurance company and it was now up to them. A week later, I asked my friend to re-contact M. Babin and ask what was happening, mainly because my account is closing and I want the dosh. He told me friend that a cheque is surely in the post by now. At this I completely flipped because I have already given my change of address to La Poste and all mail will now be sent to Scotland for the next 3 months. A euro cheque is the last thing I want over there...imagine the bureaucracy involved in sorting that out.... So I called M. Babin and began with 'Bonjour M. Babin. C'est Mademoiselle Kelling. Je vous appelle..." when M. Babin interrupted me with a big roar saying 'I know who you are! I know all about you and your dossier! I've been harrassed by your friend for the past week! He calls every 2 days! It's not normal that! I've done everything I can! I've told you everything I know!" and I said er - excuuuuuse me, but can you listen to me a moment, I have a question! He fell silent and I explained the situation (I recount this calmly but I was not calm at the time) and why I wanted a bank transfer to my account and not a cheque which would be sent automatically to Scotland. Well! That is outside any p-r-o-c-e-s-s that exists in France and therefore there is an immediate 'non', to which I asked for Axa's phone number so that I could contact them myself. He said fine and said 01blahblahblahblahblah so fast that I had no idea what he was saying. In exasperation I asked him to repeat it. Same again. This time I said I have the 01 and the last number but nothing in between, at which point he said 0...........1.................4...............5...................2..................4...........etc etc....

So I called Axa and they said they'd never seen any documents and had no demand for an end of contract. They called me back - as promised - 10 minutes later and told me what to do: RE-contact M. Babin and ask him to fax the documents and then they would send HIM the reimbursement and then I could get it directly from him. Of course I wanted to avoid any more contact with him but there really was no alternative so that's the course of action we took.

This morning, I contacted M. Babin, got another earful of which I could make out a couple of words, but did manage to verify he HAD faxed the documents. Will now follow up with Axa that they can send the reimbursement to M. Babin today and I am personally going to go down there, get my money, and give him a piece of my mind!

'pot de départ

I find speech making generally rather fearsome. I tend to be nervous for the whole day beforehand, even when I've throughly rehearsed what I want to say. Nevertheless, being forced to do it for Committee and for conferences such as IIFET has been undoubtedly good for me, and I think the constructive criticism I've sought afterwards has helped to shape my presenting abilities.

So it was that last night, for my 'pot de départ', I gave a thank you speech with a difference. I really wanted it to be funny as well as say a couple of important things - to particularly thank Anthony and Carl for the investment they've put into me professionally and personally as well as their support and friendship, and to thank Emily for organising my fabulous leaving gift (a new computer for my PhD) and all the other little things surrounding a leaving drink (bless her, she went around the whole building getting signatures and contributions to the computer as well as sending cards off to other buildings - she got postcards of Paris and people signed these. Original and brilliant idea).

As well as remembering my thank yous, I threw in a few anecdotes including the 'pringles' joke from below. But the part on which it all hinged was a little thing I wrote as an addendum to the recently published 'Multilingual Dictionary of Fish and Fish Products'. This book provides the names of those fish and fish products that are in commerical use internationally, and supplies a little information on each one. This was my addendum:

Schmidtus Danus: Schmidtus Danus is a species of fish originating in colder European climates, although for the past 25 years this fish has frequently been served in Paris. Generally picky eaters, they tend to favour other seafood, particularly raw... Naturally located near fish tanks, this species leads a small but growing school of fish – although mainly to restaurants…Also known to migrate to calmer waters near Mondonville St Jean every 5 days or so. Often found in the presence of much bigger fish.

Australianis Runneris: This fish could normally be found in the tropical waters off the Australian coast – sometimes racing against like-minded triathlon-fish. However, a particular species has recently been discovered in northern cooler waters, while frequently returning to Australian shores along ancient migratory routes…business class of course. Spawning appears to take place in either location.

South Korean Golfus Fishus: The South Korean Golfus Fishus is a recent adjonee to the OECD fisheries school. Often found in the Gulf of Mexico, Gulf of Alaska, Gulf of Aden, in fact, anywhere where there’s Gulf.

Emily Emeritus: A big fish in a small pond, this species is regularly found near the fish tank. She has observed savage attacks, brutal betrayls, feeding frenzies and the odd liaison or two..and that’s not even before I get started on what happens IN the tank.

Maybe you have to know the people to appreciate the 'in' jokes, but I think most of you know enough to see the resemblances... Anyway, I had a brilliant party and it seems to have been well received. That's why I'm sad to be leaving - because of the people I'm leaving behind. I'll miss them.

And Tessa walketh...

2 weeks ago when i was at home in Scotland, Tessa was clearly feeling quite comfortable on her feet. She could take 10 steps across a room but tended to not stop and preferred to land in someone's arms or find a wall upon arrival...just to touch lightly before she was on her way again.

Maybe it's her new Parisian shoes, but since then she's taken off and just last weekend was found running across Tescos.

So that's her walking! Just in time for her mother to need to be able to sit down more!

At coffee this morning....

Thick French accent, Thick German accent and Ingrid are all having coffee:

Thick French accent: So Ingrid, your party is on saturday?

Ingrid (directed to Thick French accent and Thick German accent): Yes, are you coming?

Thick French accent (directed to Thick German accent): Yes, are you?

Thick German accent (directed to Ingrid): Yes. Should I bring anything?

Thick French accent (directed to Thick German accent): Pringles?

Thick German accent (quizzically): Bring girls??