Author: fleetfootkath

In class today we had a test and a debate on the pros and cons of eating meat. It was such fun and I can see already an improvement in my language ability. Even though it is tiring, a few more weeks and I might be able to move up a level. It is exciting to see improvement after four days!

We all felt energised by the debate so lunch was on again after we booked our wine tour for Friday. This time Ana the Finnish woman from Helsinki joined us..

We all went our separate ways after another delightful lunch in Parliament Square. Merel is off to a concert with a fellow student. I almost feel envious that they are both here for much longer than me, now I can see progress.

I took myself off to the Cathedral of Saint André and walked up to the top of the bell tower for panoramic views of Bordeaux. It seemed tough climbing the steps after a three course lunch. The next stop was the Musée of Beaux Arts. I was excited to see two paintings by Henri Martin of the village Le Cirq-Popiere which we visited on the way from Le Puy to Cahors. I knew it instantly.

I decided to return home and thought I could catch the number 4 bus along the way. Unfortunately due to the roadworks the route has deviations. After two false stops and a trip over the rough footpath that sent me to my knees and dirtied my new White jeans(!) I decided to walk a few blocks back to where I usually catch the bus. I didn’t have to wait too long but was cross when I saw as we went along, I had passed near two stops from which I could have caught the bus. Extra walking in the heat was totally avoidable. I had confused the side of the street the bus would be on! I really could have walked the whole way.

Once home I set about booking my train ticket for Saturday. I am sorry to leave. This week has gone so fast and I am just beginning to feel comfortable (despite the bus muck up).

Tonight at dinner I got to roll the Grace dice. On each side of the dice there is a different form of grace. The kids role it and the family sings whatever grace appears before eating. It is done without any sense of self consciousness or stiffness. They are a very loving and caring family but not formal. Henri has set up a blow up pool in the backyard for the kids, he has been in it with them too. I think Astrid works hard and like most mums has very little personal time but never seems flustered or stressed. Everything is well organised and they spend time together. Virtually no TV but lots of toys and games. Ambroise is playing chess at seven but still wears a bib at the table to protect his clothes. It is a fascinating insight into one French Family. No yelling or fighting but still busy kids. Always dinner as a family. They could not be any more welcoming and helpful.

We had to do a presentation to class on the national dish of our countries, the best and the worst dishes. I had prepared a spiel on Vegemite, Roast Lamb and vegetables followed by Pavlova for dessert. I showed them laminations and BBQ sausage in bread. I also talked about Kangaroo, Emu and Barramundi which impressed everyone. Especially Timbault from Russia. I finished with the worst being Chiko Roll and also Vegemite because it is an acquired taste! My finale was the Vegemite jingle which amused and possible confused everyone! Thanks to Lyn, I have a tube of Vegemite and so I spread it on fresh baguette and gave everyone a taste test. About fifty percent liked it and fifty percent were unimpressed. I think it was quite a successful presentation. My French improves when I have time to prepare what I need to say, not surprising(!) but I was able to answer most questions in French too.

Following class I went for a celebratory lunch with Merel, my young Dutch friend. She is more competent in French but lacks confidence. We had a lovely lunch of Squid and risotto with chorizo but no wine because I had an individual class in the afternoon. The waiter was really slow coming so I had to pelt back to class at the opposite end of town arriving a couple of minutes late, all in a lather of perspiration. Marine my tutor is a gorgeous looking woman who seemed incredibly and uncannily familiar to me. I had not met her before I am sure.

After a halting start as I gathered my wits, it all went well and I think one on one sessions at home would be helpful. I was really boosted by her comments that my grasp of grammar was at least A2 level (I am actually in A1 here) so I ‘just’ (!) need to work on speaking and vocabulary. No surprise there. When I told her she looked familiar to me she said she had the same feeling about me. Quite weird. I feel very comfortable in France despite not speaking the language so I think I must have been here in a past life!?

Now I had some time to visit the Church of Notre Dame and light a candle for Peter. It has been 9 years today since he died. From all the kind thoughts I received he is still very present in all our lives. The church is quite unusual baroque style and had the most peaceful ambience. It was a beautiful interlude.

I decided that I just couldn’t bear another day with my mop of overgrown hair so I had booked and appointment at a salon around the corner from the school. The guy who took the booking had one of those long beards all the trendy’s are sporting back home. Anyway he was very pleasant and set me up with a delightful young woman who fortunately spoke quite good English, though I had prepared with Marine what to say. The hairdresser did a great job and the guy with the beard came over to tell me what great hair I had.

I felt revived and so I also lashed out at a little boutique ( good sale!) for some nice white jeans and a rather gorgeous striped linen top. I have been so restrained when there are sales galore and I am quite tired of my limited wardrobe, but in all honesty I really haven’t felt like shopping at all. It is really hot here and my dressier clothes ( two pair of non hiking pants and three smarter t shirts) are not cool enough.

I wandered around the city checking out little streets and found two arcades like the Royal Arcade in Melbourne.

I was also looking for a new butter knife for my hostess Astrid because the one she loaned me was still in the bag of bread when I dumped it after class. I found one at Galleries Lafayette that was red and white like her kitchen. I was served by the most attractive young French African guy with a green tinge on the top of his head. He was so tall ( well over 6 feet) I felt like a child beside him but he was so delightful and we had a good chat. He is a student working there over the summer. I just wanted to give him a big hug.

I arrived home just in time for dinner and then we were treated to a small concert by Hermine as she played the harp. I am convinced that the music is enchanted. The tone and reverberation was so beautiful. In contrast and in deference to my English connections, the family watched the soccer game between Croatia and England. I was tired but it would have been impolite to leave. It was quite exciting in the end though disappointing for England.

Hermine is at the end in the white striped shirt. On the left is Alexandra, the Spanish student and Henri the father. On the right is Rogatien, Astrid, the mother, and Ambroise. The older boys are away.

I still had homework to do and revise for a test the next day but I could only manage some of the exercises before I fell asleep. It was a great day. I really like this city.

I took the bus today because Alexandra said it was quicker and more direct. I hoped I would know where to get off! I counted the stops. Usually when I arrive in a town I walk around to get a sense of the place and gain orientation. This hasn’t been possible because I arrived by taxi, I have been taking public transport and have hardly had any time to explore. Still I am getting the hang of the place and yesterday we had a walk around the centre of town after class.

Today I stayed after class and did my presentation preparation then embarked on an exploratory stroll. I declined the drinks invitations and the invitations to watch the football though I am sure it would be fun. The strain of talking only in French is tiring and I need a bit of respite.

Football fever

A basil and citron sorbet to cool me down.

It was lovely wandering around this city. It is very grand with beautiful sandstone buildings of four stories high and because it is a UNESCO city everything is beautifully preserved. Having said that, nearly every road is being dug up for a new tram line and so it would be lovely to return when all is completed.

There is a famous reflective pool beside the river and opposite the Bourse but in this heat it is full of people lying and children rolling in the water, their bodies reflected on the surface. It is seriously packed everyday. At night it reflects the lights of the buildings opposite.

I am home resting and soon the football will be on downstairs as the family have returned from the beach in time for the game. This home is in the process of renovation and it will be lovely when completed but they are doing it in stages. It is quite large. Hermine plays the harp and one of the older sons plays the piano. I haven’t heard any practicing but the harp is beautiful when you stroke the strings.

France won the match against Belgium and the streets are full of horns tooting, people yelling ‘ viva la France’ and generally making a racket! My room is on the street side and last night there were guys talking and knocking on the neighbour next door. I was too tired to care but I wondered what they were doing so late.

There will be a few sore heads tomorrow in class I think.

Andy and Karen and I left Logaston early so we could take the scenic route to Bristol airport.

This meant following the Wye river in and out of Wales. It is a bit disconcerting to see signs in English then Welsh and English and back again but it is a pretty route and Karen said that during the Napoleonic wars when the Grand Tour of Europe was not possible, there was a Tour of Wye which focussed on the beauty of the countryside and the medieval ruins like Tintern Abbey.

Eventually Bristol appeared and I was surprised by the huge estuary that we crossed. The rivers this close to the sea are subject to huge tides and I was amazed at the deep muddy sides. Looked more like a jungle river. The bridge across is long and impressive almost Like the Golden Gate in San Francisco.

We had a bit of trouble finding the drop off point so we stopped before the parking area and a police car happened to be passing and told us to move on. I jumped out and quickly grabbed my backpack and hugged them goodbye and scampered off before the police returned.

All the haste and the plane was delayed about forty minutes. The system does not display a departure gate till they are actually boarding so you can’t relax while you wait. I wasn’t the only one a bit anxious. A young French guy returning home after studying in Bristol was equally as anxious. He had been at art college studying Illustration and was very curious about Australia. The plane finally arrived and our gate number appeared and we were soon boarding and away. Looking back over England as we took off was quite pretty, like a green and yellow patchwork quilt.

Soon it was France we were over and the coast of Brittany. The sea was very blue and even the beaches looked sandy. The arrival was easy and no fuss through immigration and customs and I got a new arrival stamp, shame I am going home this time in two weeks! Bordeaux is 33C..

My driver is running late so I am a bit anxious but she turns up after I call the contact number and, blessing, speaks English. It is the beginning of the holidays here and traffic is heavy to the airport.

I am deposited at my host family and greeted warmly by Astrid and three of the five children. Rogation has a cockatiel in his shoulder. That is an Australian bird, grey with yellow head and crest. They make pretty pets and are quite common at home. All is in French. My immersion begins which is pretty scary. Astrid the mother is a very attractive, friendly person and makes me feel welcome but she and her husband make sure we speak French all the time.

There is another student, Alexandra who is Spanish and speaks English too. She is only 17 but has completed a short Camino from Sarria and found it an extraordinary experience.

It was good for me to hear of her feelings because I have always doubted that just walking the last 100 kms into Santiago could be so moving.

I am really tired and escape to my room after dinner. The blog will have to wait because I am falling asleep. Another adventure begins.

Karen and I went to Ludlow which is a beautiful medieval town to explore more thoroughly. It was once the centre of government for this part of England so was a rich medieval town with a large castle and a beautiful historic church.

When we arrived the Saturday market was in full swing and their were several groups of Morris dancers performing. It is an ancient folk tradition of men’s dancing with bells on their legs and flowers on their hats, danced with sticks or staves. It is very energetic and requires precision with eye hand coordination to avoid hitting each other on the head! It was very entertaining and the three troupes we watched all had very different costumes. One group was from Lancashire and wore clogs so the beating if the clogs added to the folk music. Apparently the mill workers of Lancashire used to wear clogs.

Later I toured St Laurence’s church which had some intriguing carvings on the underside of the seats the monks used to sit on or lean against when praying. It had a most elaborate wall of carvings in the chancel behind the altar too. So many of the churches were ‘cleansed’ of ornamentation during the reformation or sacked during the English civil war but this church had managed to retain its original stained glass windows.

The town has many winding streets of pretty houses and shops. Karen and I entered a shop called Expensive Mistakes which had preloved designer clothes. After a few changes if clothes Karen purchased a very smart black and white outfit, hat and bag for an upcoming wedding. We celebrated with tea and lemon tart!

Next it was Ludlow castle the home of one of the richest men in medieval times. It was built between 1086 and 1094 by Roger de Lacy. Catherine of Aragon came here for her honeymoon but her husband Prince Arthur died 6 months later from the plague and she later married his brother Henry the VIII. The castle was a significant place for quelling rebellion from across the border in Wales.

We rounded our day off by watching Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet. I haven’t seen it for years but it really holds up as a production. Just as powerful as when it was first released. We made a few comparisons between it and the play we saw on Thursday both being modern interpretations.

This is my last day in England and tomorrow I fly to France for the language school. I am a bit anxious but I am sure it will be fun.

Andy is up early laying bricks for his wall, Karen is raspberry picking and I am languishing in bed writing the blog after a sleep in. It has been such a treat to go slow this week.

The weather continues to be sunny and now there is talk of water restrictions for gardens. Andy waters by hand with a watering can which is a huge job. I had thought a sprinkler would be easier but water pressure is not that good here. As it is they have a pump to boost the pressure for the washing machine and I discover to my dismay that the dribbley showers become forceful entities.

When I emerged to shower I used the upstairs bathroom next to my bedroom. I got in as usual and turned on the water expecting a weak flow which I had had the last time I used this shower. But oh no! I was blasted with a forceful stream of water that washed me and almost the whole bathroom. I frantically tried to regulate the taps but to no avail and soon the floor was awash. I quickly threw my t shirt over the shower head so I could get to the taps to turn them off!

Surveying the bathroom I was grateful it was a bathroom where it is built to be relatively safe for water. I wiped up, hung up the soaked bath mat and rug and retreated to my bedroom. It was only then as I was apologising, that Karen told me about the pump that is turned on for the washing machine but makes the showers very forceful. The downstairs shower is just the same when the washing machine is on. The message is, don’t shower while the washing machine is in action! Living in the country, in ancient houses, and English bathrooms are all very idiosyncratic.

By now I have collected my wits sufficiently to dress for a walk Andy has planned along Offra’s dyke on the border of Wales, not far from Herefordshire. We set off along the usual confusing country lanes but soon gain altitude to look over the Shropshire downs. The country is turning golden instead of green very rapidly now and there is a haze of humidity overhanging everything.

Offra’s dyke is a huge ditch and mound about 180 miles long that is along the border of Wales and England. It is not clear why it was built though speculation suggests it was a defining of the border between the two countries. It is a pleasant walk ( up hill of course) with good views and as we reach the top we come across a red dragon! It is a metal sculpture sitting beside a section of the dyke with no explanation as to why it is there. It is rather lovely and certainly whimsical. It isn’t as if no one will see it as we have been passed by several walkers, so it is a well visited path but it was a surprise. Sheep graze nearby and I wondered what they thought about it when it first appeared.

We are only doing a circuit but some walk the whole length. A couple of walkers asked Andy whether a nearby pub was open and he directed them to a shortcut. We stopped for a drink and snack then made our way back to the car. Andy pointed out a laid hedge and explained how farmers bend and twist and weave hazel wood stems to thicken the hedge planting so they are animal proof. The hedge grows the whole time around and from the woven parts. There were piles of twiggy timber nearby that would be used in this process.

After returning to the car I suggested tea at a cafe in Clun (a village within Wales) before checking out the castle. The tea pots came dressed in Tennis themed cosies because Wimbledon is on. A bit different! On the way to the castle we passed one of the oldest lawn bowling greens in the country. It was round. A true bowling green.

The castle was built as a fortification to keep the Welsh under control and was grand in its time but has been a ruin for nearly 400 years!

Returning home we hustled to get ready for dinner at Andy’s sister Susie’s home. She and her late husband Ivor used to own Dunkerton Cider but they had just sold it when Ivor passed away. Susie still lives next door to the business and grows apples for the cider. While we dined we could hear the sounds from the restaurant that was part of the cider business. Susie has a huge garden and vegetable garden so she has some help to manage it. She has a haha(? Spelling) which is a ditch that is designed to blend into the sightline so you don’t notice it but it discourages animals (rabbits) from raiding her vegetable garden. I hadn’t heard of such a thing before. The gardener was leaving as we arrived and she admitted to trimming one of the bushes into a McEnroe chicken shape with headband!

The haha in the foreground with orchards in the background. Can you see it?

It was a lovely evening and good to see Susie who is still adjusting to the loss of her husband. It is only just two years now and still painful. People seem to expect you to ‘ get over ‘ grief like it is an illness but you never ‘ get over’ losing the love of your life. All you do is learn to adjust to life without them. Life becomes about learning who you are now as an individual. Susie remarked on how she could plant want she likes now without Ivor’s input but then it is those tussles that you miss too; Having someone with whom to talk things over. Karen’s Mum Sue is also making that adjustment after losing her husband twelve months ago. It is never easy.

Karen and Andy had bought tickets for a performance of Romeo and Juliet at the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford-upon-Avon. They have a friend Ishia Bennisson who is playing the role of the Nurse and wanted to catch her performance and visit with her. They had bought a ticket for me too which was so thoughtful.

We needed to leave by 8.30 because it is at least 2 hours drive away, depending on traffic. Andy had thought we might have time to visit Kenilworth Castle beforehand but the traffic and the early start to the play made it too difficult to enjoy a visit without rushing. Instead we explored the town and visited many significant places at our leisure before the play. The swans were congregating in one spot beside the river as evening drew near. I have never seen such a sight or so many swans in one place. We kept wondering if there was a special term to describe a group of swans.

Shakespeare’s birthplace

The riverside

Shakespeare’s burial place in Holy Trinity Church and the walkway of 10 lime trees, each signifying an apostle.

The play was interesting with a modern staging and a determination to make it relevant to young audiences. I enjoyed the performance but I felt the delivery of words was sometimes rushed. Energy overcame the poetry of the dialogue. Some of the acting was very good and I felt the full impetuosity and passion of youth was well portrayed. Ishia was very good as the Nurse, her experience showed. She has been engaged as a (directurg?) person to facilitate the realisation of scripts to production for a theatre company in Oregon, in the United States. She works with writers and directors and finds it very exciting and interesting as well as being an actor. I have only recently heard of this type of role in theatres since Janine has been involved at the Malthouse Theatre at home. .

By the time we finished dinner at Carlucci’s (Sicilian food) it was getting late but we visited her digs which look onto the river. They are owned by the company and rented to the cast. She can sit on the terrace and learn her lines for another production while listening to the water rushing over the weir. There are even waterlilies. It is a gorgeous aspect.

We returned home about 10, much quicker because there was hardly any traffic in the late evening. The light was so golden on the hills and fields. I keep reciting snippets of My Country by Dorothea Mackellar so I must be homesick.

The love of field and coppice,

Of green and shaded lanes,

Of ordered woods and gardens

Is running in your veins,

Strong love of grey-blue distance,

Brown streams and soft dim skies.

I know but cannot share it

My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,

A land of sweeping plains,

Of ragged mountain ranges,

Of drought and flooding rains,

I love her far horizons,

I love her jewel sea,

Her beauty and her terror-

The wide brown land for me!

…

I think this beautiful summer that the English are relishing makes me homesick. Go figure!

I slept in today, or rather stayed in bed late. It was so luxurious to dally rather than be up and packed ready for breakfast at 7.30!

I feel for Debra who went back to work on Monday. I certainly need these few quiet days. Karen went to the Poetry Festival at Ledbury and though I was tempted ( I went last time I was here) I decided to remain at home.

I explored the woods on the property and I am amazed how much they have grown since I was here last. You can hardly see down some of the walkways. I have observed all the renovations on the house and wandered through the garden and the field with the van. It is a rather wild garden with lots of secret spots.

Andy used to farm pigs and sheep some time ago but now married to a vegetarian and wanting to be free to travel, he has given that up. The old shed is going to become his studio for painting when he finishes the brick wall, the patio and other concerns. Now they are retired they are both free to pursue other interests.

The van has a great view over the farmland to the hills.

This is a lovely part of the world and I enjoy the garden, especially the raspberries! The rest of the day was just reading and doing some travel arrangements-very relaxing. I did stir myself to get tea for Andy who is building a brick wall along the edge of the garden beside the wood and pick raspberries. Nothing too arduous!

sunset over Logaston, Herefordshire.

We set off early and seriously, I can only say I knew we were going south because Herefordshire is south of Chorley. We went on freeways, big roads, back lanes most of which are bordered by hedges. Only occasionally do you get a view of a wider expanse of country. It is like green tunnels to me! This was where the monks used to ritually wash before prayers. They were Cluniacs. We saw the order’s churches in France.

Karen and Andy took me to Much Wenlock Priory, a beautiful ruin but still so stately. While Andy took a walk ( research for a book) Karen and I explored the village and its shops. The town is home to William Penny -Brooke’s who was responsible for re starting the Olympics in 1896(?). I found a range of inspirational cards in one shop that had exquisite little arks and angels and a large wooden ark. Kirsten’s Oscar would have loved the wooden arc with all the animals. I did not buy a thing other than the cards! The one I liked most was out of stock.

Then we set off again via Ludlow another architectural delight of maintained Elizabethan buildings and castle. So quaint but hard to take photos of. Then we arrived in Logaston. Karen and Andy have a guest coming to stay in their caravan which lives down the field. He is a musician and likes to come for the quiet when he is writing, so Karen set off to the shops for special provisions for him and Andy and I got stuck into the raspberry patch. We picked about 5 kilograms not counting what I nibbled on! Raspberries and cream for dessert, and breakfast. We realised I was here about the same time four years ago. This is half of one box.

Bruce, Lyn and I left Scarborough this morning. They were heading for London and I was going to Preston, where I was to meet Karen and Andy and Karen’s Mum Sue who lives at Chorley in Lancashire.

The train passed a large fire in the heathlands that has been burning for several days. Apparently it was started deliberately. When we arrived at Sue’s place the sound of fire engines was constantly in the background. After all the quiet of the country, civilisation is rather jarring. The traffic in and out of Preston was like peak hour and it was Sunday afternoon! The world is such a busy, bustling place so that the countryside is more and more appealing.

Sue is a watercolour painter so I was very interested to see her work. She is very accomplished and seeing her work made me keen to get back to painting again too. I spoke with Jonathan and Ziggy this morning and started to feel the first pangs of homesickness. Not long now before I return.

We ate a lovely home cooked meal in the garden and then Karen’s sister Fiona and her husband John came for tea and another delicious meal of salads( with avocado!) was eaten. Such a lovely change from Pub food! The weather is still warm and so eating outside was also enjoyable, barely a fly to swat. Karen had made a scrumptious Rhubarb fool for dessert. All was devoured without a squeak. It was so nice to have something different, not a huge serving, and so deliciously fresh and light. Civilisation has its perks too! Fiona works in FE, Further Education, and has responsibility for a huge number of courses. It was very interesting discussing the English system of vocational training and seeing how different it was from the Australian system in which I worked.

The weather is a treat which I didn’t expect in England and everyone is so enjoying the sunshine but the gardens are very dry and they don’t seem to open windows as soon as there is a cool breeze. The hotel at Scarborough was stuffy, yet there was a fresh sea breeze blowing outside. The staff were saying how hot it was but all they needed to do was open a window!