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Life in the city...

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Who would've thought that after a 5-day long and busy weekend, a night-time drive followed by 4 hours of sleep, a 6 km round-trip for lunch, and a beer at lunch, that I would still be at work (and working) at 7pm yesterday? That's the power of deadlines!

Hochzeit in Allemagne

I added my 5th, 6th and 7th countries this weekend to my European Summer 'Working' Tour with a 1300 km round trip to Germany via Belgium and Holland for a wedding. The whole thing was a 5-day bonanza that began with a BBQ on Thursday (which we missed), a tour of Munster on Friday morning (which we also missed), a dinner for the French side of things on the Friday night, the actual wedding on the Saturday (which also lasted well into the Sunday), then Sunday lunch which turned into Sunday afternoon, evening and night, and finally a bike ride all day on Monday.

The German side of things provided all the food and drink (a continual supply of) at their family farm which became the hub of the weekend's activities. I am absolutely knackered, but it was totally worth it.

Here is me playing in the garden just after the ceremony. They used this picture frame as a very cool prop to capture photos of attendees at the wedding. The long time gap between the service at 2pm and when we actually started dinner - closer to 8pm, was filled with assorted activities such as the photo taking, drinking, setting off balloons, drinking, a quizz for the married couple and assorted extras, drinking, listening to a little jazz band in the corner and anyone could grab the mike so we got renditions in Spanish, German, French and a little bit of English...all while drinking of course. It wasn't that hideous British drunk-drinking though, if that makes sense. There were no mega-big gangs of fat white louts sitting in the corner getting drunk and verbally abusive. Things simply aren't done like that here. I'm not quite sure how we all managed to still be upright by the time the bus took us to dinner but it was a lovely and chilled (like the wine) afternoon. I suspect the farm has a massive underground storage tank of beer though.

The heart-shaped balloons being let off...and a final solitary one floating up into the wind...

There were 180 people at the wedding but with the garden atmosphere you got to cross paths with most people fairly quickly, and everyone, e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e was incredibly, incredibly 'sympa'. Families and friends were outgoing and friendly and everyone had a good laugh. Interestingly, it was one of the first times that I have spent almost 5 days straight swopping between two languages, neither of which is my mother tongue. Although I'm not that great at German, it seemed to be better than the francophones' around me, plus in that sort of a setting you kind of stick to the basics, like what I do for a living and why I live in Paris and what fish we should all be eating (that is actually one of the top 3 questions I get asked).

The whole thing was really well planned and organised (the German side?) while the French side provided the spontaneity...they were the last to leave from everything and their laissez-faire approach to making decisions (like when we should leave something and how) is quite different to how I work, but probably symptomatic of their culture. All that spontaneity got a bit much for me at one point and I had to leave the Sunday lunch-afternoon-evening-night (ie we turned up for lunch at the farm and at 10pm were still sat there...only the Frenchies mind you, the Germans all left at 6pm; even the hosts had gone into the house to bed) once the candles were lit and everyone sat around and started to sing French songs. I did learn how to belt out 'O Champs-Elysees!' with the best of them but had to retire after that. I'm glad I did because next morning at breakfast I learnt that it went on until 1am...

Although I was lumped with the French as I'd arrived with them, I am definitely not French. That seems clear to me. I don't have that built-in ability to do nothing and believe that if you wait around long enough, drink hard enough and chat loudly enough, that you will somehow get home at the end of the night and still be well enough to do the same again tomorrow. Then again, I'm not entirely German either...it was nice to sit in the grass as the sun set and not need to rush on home, and I think I possibly prefer wine to beer. But perhaps we are each a bit like Europe itself: a bit of a mix. And I suppose in some situations I come across as a bit more German or British or whatever. But I like that - I think it makes us a bit more adaptable and open-minded. Even if that open-mindedness still hasn't quite led me to like pigs ears (although I did try them).

It was wonderful being back in Germany again..there's still something of 'home' about the place. It feels familiar, and I like it. Maybe not always and forever, but I'm a glad it's a part of me. And Germany can be really cool. Here is a trampoline in the middle of the town square. I'm jumping, so I'm not very clear:

Anyway, back to funny stuff. The German hosts own a horse-breeding ranch, so we were surrounded by some gorgeous fillies...and a little goat who thought he was a horse. Here are the horses:

...and as they sped across the field the little goat would try his best to keep up with them on his 4 short stumpy legs...

Finally it was time to go home. We had already delayed our departure from 8am that morning in order to take part in the 25km bike ride around the area. It was very much like my mum's area (flat and rural) in the south and it was a perfect day. But there were about 20 of the French contingent and 10 of the Germans so you can imagine a) the beer drinking involved and b) how long that beer drinking took. We finally began our trek back to Paris at 8pm at night. It had taken us 11 hours to get to Emsdetten from Paris...but that included an extended stop in Maastricht. We were hoping to make it back in 7 hours but in the end it took us 6.5. Here we are enjoying our road-side dinner in an attempt to keep things moving quickly:

At least the view was good:

I took the wheel for the 'Belgium' leg on the way back. Ah, how lovely to be on great roads, well illuminated and without a soul in sight. My lovely Belgium: perhaps you are the perfect European mix after all.

Pigeon in the cinema:

Still hot...

When I was in Malaysia, I vowed to never complain about the cold ever, ever again, as living in that heat and humidity you realise what a thrill it is to be able to drink hot chocolate, curl up in front of the fire and go in search of some extra jumpers.

I am sure this will be severely tested in the coming months, but at the moment I continue to bask in the heat in Paris...and only 44% humidity rather than the 80%-odd of Penang. I like the heat - it makes it feel like summer. And it gives me that boost I need to get through winter. Seasons should be like that: a hot summer and cold winter. Although in Scotland all those seasons are perhaps marred by rain - well, we shall see.

But today it did get a little bonkers. The temperature gauge on the pharmacy in the picture (which somehow didn't manage to come out at all) actually said 38 degrees. I had to check it twice to make sure it didn't say 28, but 38 it was. I'm not quite sure how much it can be trusted as the time said 1328 when it was blatantly 1349, but the point is that it's hot. Deliciously hot in my opinion, but I'm still glad it won't stay like this.

"feelin' hot hot hot...'

As many of you maybe know, France (and much of Europe) is experiencing quite a little heatwave at the moment. Temperatures in the south hit 37 degrees today, making life for newborns and their families quite uncomfortable, I should think. Up here in Paris, it's 'only' 35 degrees, which makes life for people working at home a bit uncomfortable too.

Actually, I headed out to my fan-filled office in Sciences-Po this morning as I knew that today was meant to be toasty. Unfortunately, I forgot my plug for the computer and only managed the morning on batteries before deciding to come home at lunchtime. It wasn't such an easy decision as I was convinced I'd packed my suncream this morning, but when it finally came down to it, I couldn't find it anywhere in my bags, so I decided to chance it.

Stupid. I am bright red in the face, soaked through, with a vrai 'coup de soleil' down my right side (as the sun beat down on me from that side mostly) and a couple of little white lines on my back from my dress straps...and all that in just half an hour.
It is boiling hot at home and after first trying to work in just my undies in front of the open window, I have finally cracked and found a fan and a bowl of water for the fan to blow over (apparently helps cooling), gone starkers in front of the computer (I have deadlines so can't muck about), placed towels over the seat and back of the chair (to prevent peeling my hot skin off every time I want to stand up) and am in a darkened room with gummi bears within easy reach (the gummi bears don't help keep me cool; I just like them).

Star sighting

This will probably only be meaningful for those who follow French cinema but the rest of you can simply look at the photo and drool...but the other night when I went to the cinema, the premiere of Vincent Perez's new film was taking place, with all the cast members and I had to BRUSH past my mate Vincent to get to the right screen (which wasn't his one so maybe that's why he wouldn't look me in the eye).

Hair

I seem to collect haircuts like most people collect...well, whatever one collects every 6-12 weeks. Another rainy day in the south of France saw the last of my layers cut out from my October 2008 mega-cut.

A self-shot this one, so a bit random.

St-Emilion

In keeping with the majority of our holiday days, it poured on our trip to St-Emilion, but it's still a beautiful place:

The only true bit of sunshine in our day was the old gentleman who took us round Chateau Haut-Levallade, that has been in his family for 5 generations. He clearly loved talking about wine, his wine, and we spent a very enjoyable hour laughing and learning with him.

The fruits of our discussions:

And then it was time to go home again. Note First Class window lamps!

Bordeaux

We went out for dinner that night in Bordeaux and afterwards took a walk along the quai by night:

Cap Ferret

3 out of 6 of us continued our holidays further north, taking advantage of (my ex-flatmate) Sabrina's a-m-a-z-i-n-g hospitality to spend a - guess what - day at the beach. The beach at Cap Ferret about an hour's drive west of Bordeaux was one of the nicest beaches we got to on this trip. It was almost totally empty.

View South:

View North:

View out to sea. These waves were actually pretty strong and as a precaution Sabrina put on a surfing top. As a precaution, I stayed in slightly shallow waves but before too long I was further out with my friends, jumping waves and diving under the bigger ones...until a huge one got me that almost took my swimsuit with it and I gave up. The water was surprisingly warm and it was very comfortable to play for half an hour or so.

The beach is mostly un-guarded, although there are certain points (between the flags) where lifeguards are stationed. We were reminded how dangerous the ocean can be when we heard the thunderous approach of an air-sea rescue helicopter, which headed directly up the beach and stopped half a km away, hovering around 50metres out to sea. 5 people were eventually pulled from the water.

We then went to the Bay of Arcachon for lunch. Again, tides make a big difference here to the landscape (and the ability to go searching for muscles).

Pre-tide:

Post-tide:

Biarritz

Biarritz was just a 40 minute bus ride away along the coast, so one day we headed up to that beach too.

The funny thing about all the beaches we visited during the week was the way they were influenced by the tide. I've already posted photos of the loss of beach inflicted by the high tide in San Sebastien. Actually, when we first saw the beach we couldn't understand why a few thousand people were lying up near the beach wall on a small mound of sand, leaving about 100m of perfectly clear, flat sand all the way to the water. When we got to the flat sand we realised that it was hard and wet, and we did put 2 and 2 together, but thought we'd wait it out to see what happens. We ended up moving 5 times and all our stuff got soaked twice as freak waves led the way for the tide that followed. Pretty much the same happened in Biarritz. Here is a photo at the start of our afternoon and you can see how far away the waves are breaking.

The waves were actually pretty high that day: driven by an on-shore wind and the rising tide. But it came as a bit of a surprise when the first 'biggie' wave of the day came right up the slope of the beach and all the way to the beach wall, soaking everything and everyone in its path. This was the retreating wave and people frantically trying to locate their stuff.

St Jean de Luz

Another rainy day; another day to find something to do. Taking pictures of every house in St Jean de Luz at least took most of the afternoon even if it doesn't sound that interesting now (it wasn't that interesting then either but desperate times called for desperate measures).

The Guggy - Bilbao

Mid-week, and the weather was still proving highly changeable. Our foray into Spain had proven so easy and successful, that a couple of us decided to do it again...this time with the help of a car. We were stuck between Pamplona or Bilbao, but the opportunity to get to the Guggenheim was too strong and the decision was eventually fairly easy. So off we trundled in the blazing sunshine to Bilbao, about 150km from StJdeL.

The Guggy became our new best friend very, very quickly. Aside from its stunning architecture, they also managed to get everything else right. Good amounts of information - not too much, not too little; good amounts of art - not too much, not too little; an amazing exhibition of the guy who planned the Beijing fireworks and has worked with gunpowder as a medium for a while. The only vaguely disappointing thing was the giftshop, which was hugely overpriced but at least had plenty of 1 euro postcards.

Here are some shots of Frank Gehry's creation:

And then 1 or 2 of the things inside.

And the Chinese guy's exhibition (Cai Guo-Qiang):

And here are the Guggy toilets! Even the small things had been thought about and I really loved how the toilet tiles fitted in with the general atmosphere and creativity of the rest of the building..so I snapped away!

A hard day's work: