Unfolding Accomplishments ~ European Expeditions

Of 12 months in France, I imagine I have spent a better part of 3 months travelling and exploring the European landscape! From solo getaways, to summer escapades with friends, it has been an incredible journey of sight-seeing, culture witnessing and historically impressioned global discovery.

As I was preparing for my short sejour to Scotland last month, it occurred to me that including France, and of course Scotland, I would have travelled to 11 different countries in 12 months! Wanting to make it 12 in 12, I quickly searched for inexpensive weekend jaunts to Luxembourg, Germany or the border towns of Italy; but living in common European financial insufficiency and waiting for the first pay-check in almost 4 months won out, and I guess I can settle for the following travel timeline;)

Dec 2010

London England UK

Cardiff Wales UK

Ireland (Dublin & Meath Counties)

Cardiff Wales

March 2011

Geneva Switzerland

Yvoire France

Paris France

Geneva Switzerland





May 201

London England UK

Marseille France

London England

June 2011

Cavalaire-sur-Mer,

Port Grimaud, St Tropez,

Cannes, Nice,

Ramatuelle & Avignon France

Principality of Monaco

Port Grimuad France

July 2011

Paris France

Brussels Belgium

Amsterdam & Amersfoort Netherlands

Netherlands

London England UK

Ireland (Dublin, Co Meath, Wicklow)

Ireland

Belfast Northern Ireland UK

Perouges France

Annecy France

Annecy

August 2011

Nice France

Principality of Monaco

Barcelona Spain

Paris France

Aix-les-Bains France

Barcelona Spain

October 2011

Edinburgh & Glasgow Scotland

Edinburgh Scotland

Unfolding Accomplishments ~ Culinary Creativity

Being the analytical perfectionist I am I sometimes need reminders to stop and smell the roses. While I can drone on about what I wish I would have achieved over the past year, or what I should have accomplished; I instead will reflect upon the amazing experiences, domestic doings and little treasures experienced over the last 12 months.

Having dabbled in the domestic niceties of daily life, ma vie en France has merited an embraced increase in cuisine abilities and culinary creations! Without a lack of fresh ingredients, including fresh eggs stocked on open, non refrigerated shelves, bi and tri-weekly grocery trips, and the inspiration of fine French food, I am developing a more relaxed approach to eating, cooking and experimenting with new flavours and recipes. From omelettes with fried onions, potatoes and peppers, cooked with eggs set over hard, sliced into pizza inspired wedges; to a fresh seasonal vegetable ratatouille hearty in tomatoes, eggplant, and zucchini and seasoned with herbs and spices, I have delved into my evolving culinary creativity! Some of my other creations have included; crêpes with fresh herbs, a simple but savoury chunky tomato sauce with garlic and onions, and homemade croutons made from pavé style hearty bread and airy grainy cereal loafs; perfect sprinkled atop a slightly sweet and caramelized home made onion soup.

Crepes a la anglo frenchie style!

Croutons (way better than store bought cardboard cubes)!

Texas road DiCarlo bottling inspired tomato sauce!

Of course having always favoured dessert; crêpes drizzled with honey or slathered in nutella, and the fudgy density of a gateau fondant chocolat take centre stage! Photos unfortunately not available as they are savoured and enjoyed quickly and guiltlessly!

Adolescent Innocence

As I was preparing to move to France one of my ongoing jokes and mini concerns was the feeling that I was regressing to an age or a stage of adolescence. Here I was… house and car sold, two jobs left behind, once thriving investments withdrawn, and taking a chance on a one way ticket away from most of what I had known. I have often thought that I am a time taker of sorts, and in many ways, the age old social milestones that we progress through, I tend to mix and jumble up and do in random order. So while most would embark on a foreign adventure in their early 20’s, I chose to take the plunge years later, after 2 degrees, long term employment and beginning a comfortable personal, financial and social nest.

Funny thing is that sometimes we know more than we allow ourselves to admit, and this was one decision that would have continued to nag and creep into my thoughts, what ifs and dreams, until honoured. And so, here I am, one year in and in many ways living in an adolescent innocence, with little to call my own, except for an old used car, a few possessions, and random ties between two countries. Facing an open road with renewed dreams and unknown destinations; without regret or remorse; but rather with a chuckle and smile at the passing of time and a mysterious infinite future.

As I am often inspired and driven by music and melody,

I came across a video by an amazing group that speaks to my

adolescent fears, dreams and adventures….

Sigur Ros - Hoppipolla

Un an après...

It has been ONE year since moving to France!! Crazy eh?!

Well today is October 23, 2011, and I technically left the comforts of Canada on October 23, 2010, arriving in France during the early morning hours of October 24. With the time change, ocean currents and boundless skies, I think I can safely avow that I have lived in France for a full year!

Yesterday in nostalgic glee I approached a woman in the grocery store wearing a Roots sweater with a Canadian flag on the shoulder; and in mixed French and English excitedly asked if she was from Canada. Unfortunately she was not Canadian, but had received the sweater as a gift from family living in Montreal. I did however feel a swelling sense of pride for my home country coupled with a comical association with my new one that continues to abound with amplified opportunities.

As I think about the past year I have no regrets and while challenging and often difficult it has been a journey well travelled, complete with paths of stubborn stagnation, foraged identity, new avenues and relaxed restlessness. While I am fairly certain that France is not a forever home; a realization sensed early on; I am also not devoted to returning to Canada any time soon; despite my love and longing for home and relationships. Instead I sway through various degrees of comfort and patience at the limitless opportunities and avenues that await and beckon. Who knows where I, or we, will be in another year’s time? Maybe Canada, maybe France, maybe…

Some lessons and experiences over this year were felt and anticipated with pre-prediction, like the loneliness that flooded in following a summer of incredible journeys, or the crunch of living in the financial moment with sinking resources, limited earnings and tons of travel. While others appeared with calmed clarity (France is a necessary journey), nagging persistence (where to go from here?), or cycling awareness (how to strike a balance between action and faith).

While I can humbly affirm that there is much I do not know, and that in essence I remain the same in appearance and character, I am immersed with a sense of greater contentment and acceptance of life’s unfolding mysteries; with increased faith and trust that each experience is full of opportunity, learning and reflective silver lining J

A Short Stay in Scotland

Those who know me well know my silly secret Scottish theories, and my dream to make it over there… While I was only able to spend a short time in the capital of Edinburgh plus a very short stay in Glasgow, my theories persist and if anything have amplified ;)                                       

I arrived in a drizzly Edinburgh in the early afternoon hours and set out on a relaxed cab ride into the city to meet my good friend Paula. Feeling ultra excited and somewhat astounded that I was actually in Scotland!, I fought back tears of joy, as I had finally made it! Scotland has been on my immediate bucket list of sorts for some time, so the realness of this journey hit home, and I probably looked bi-polar as my expression changed from contentment, to elated smiles, to eyes glistening with enjoyment, in the short 30 minute cab ride to the B&B.

Upon arriving at the B&B, Paula and I set out to explore the historical city of Edinburgh. We spent the day catching up, wandering around the city and indulging in fish & chips with beer, all the while confusedly contemplating why a capital city would shut down at 5pm?! Despite the locked doors of churches and many shops and stores; restaurants, pubs and city centre souvenir and clothing shops still enticed.

Not only was I in Scotland, but I was also spending the time with another good friend from home. It is truly amazing the experiences that have unfolded over this past year, and the fortunate gratitude of having the opportunity to spend periods of this time with good friends! Paula is perhaps one of my newest friends from back home, where we met in the wee morning hours at the gym among boot camp inspired workouts, conversing between sets, and later learning of additional friendship and work connections.

The following day was a full day in Edinburgh, fuelled by a hearty breakfast of poached eggs, sausage, toast and fresh mushrooms. Oh how I miss the full and hearty breakfasts and brunches of home! We spent the day driving throughout the city on a hop on hop off tour bus and made our way up to Edinburgh Castle, where we witnessed the one o’clock gun firing of the cannon. Overlooking the city, the Castle is set atop a hill rich in history and charm, a mini city of sorts with magnificent views of the city below.

Later that afternoon we wandered around the National Museum of Scotland before breaking to enjoy high tea on the top floor of the Museum. In Scottish style we sipped Earl Grey tea while dining on gourmet crustless finger sandwiches and decadent sugary desserts. Having forgotten that much of the city closes at 5, we decided to resume our museum tour at of course 5pm, only to be led outside of the now closed and locked doors. We then walked through Princes Garden learning the names of the few infamous squirrels that frolic about, stopping to feed them brazil nuts and feel their tiny paws resting in our palms! The remainder of the day was spent wandering in and out of shops, and walking throughout the city; which as with many European cities is small in surface, yet immense in culture and history.

The next morning, bellies full of traditional Scottish porridge, we embarked on a short train ride to Glasgow where the air was slightly crisp and the skies released a light mist of rain. There we met Paula’s cousins and spent the afternoon in authentic Scottish company! An after dinner stroll through the streets of Glasgow, and I was struck at the differences between the rival  cities of Edinburgh and Glasgow. While Glasgow is often dealt the short end of the stick and is stereotypically thought of as  rougher and dirty, it retained a welcoming big city charm that feels more metropolitan; bustling with nightlife, city sleekness and excited energy. Whereas, Edinburgh appears more refined and artsy, with a quiet cultural authenticity and a marked conservative and quiet air.  

Alas, my short jaunt to Scotland was nearing an end, and the following afternoon I landed at Lyon Saint-Exupéry airport where the temperature was well over 70° and the sun was brightly shining in the afternoon sky. If only my mood reflected the weather… but rather I was feeling more like the overcast, 4 seasons in one day fluctuating climate of Scotland… already missing the simplicity of English communication and friendship.

Merci!

Oh to indulge, especially on a day like today. To indulge in thankfulness and gratitude, appreciation and remembrance, and laughter and love. To indulge in a feast of food and celebration and to relax among cherished family and friends while slowing down to reflect upon and appreciate the countless memories, opportunities and experiences we are all fortunate to have.

While my mouth waters at the thought of a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, and the all too uncomfortable feeling of an overstuffed belly beckons, I must instead settle for the sentiment and memories of Canadian Thanksgivings already passed. While I will not celebrate the season this year, and this particular Thanksgiving will be the first one spent in France, and the last Canadian holiday spent abroad before reaching my one year mark in Lyon; I can still share in the tradition of appreciation and thanks.

And so, on this day I give thanks to a year of realized dreams, potential, and ambition. A year of challenge, lessons and learning. And a year of no regrets, living outside of the box and self growth.

Thank you to each of you that serve as my inspiration, motivation and support! Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and give thanks as there is always something to be found amongst the silver lining in all we encounter!

Stop and listen

Ahh, the sweet sound of sound. Despite two ear operations and numerous hearing tests, my hearing has not changed, much to the delight of my French specialist, which is mostly music to my ears as well! Earlier this week I had a follow up appointment with my Doctor to assess how my ear was post op. A quick peek at the inner workings of my ear and a mini vacuuming session, followed by dizzying ear drops and I was off to prove my sense of hearing at the umpteenth hearing test of my young eared life.
                                                                                   
Okay so I am somewhat of a pro at these things, and despite the slight annoyance at the regularly timed beeps and blips, the test is relatively quick and always shows slight conductive hearing loss in my left ear. No change is good change though, and despite my last surgery, my hearing has remained intact… well as intact as it was in the past at least. Funny thing is, while I am not deaf, as I am sometimes teased, especially when I can’t make out a song in the background or sense that someone has knocked on the door, there are other sounds that amplify their way into my brain and refuse to leave! And this was a very recognizable fact that began to plague me within the year before finding out that I needed surgery. Perhaps it was a premonition of sorts or a pre-warning of ear annoyances, but certain sounds drive me batty and drive me crazy!! Namely, the chatter of keyboards, one way phone conversations, extremely low or high pitched vocal tones, and whistling (especially when it is overly cheerful). The beeping of a reversing truck, the high pitched squeals of a schoolyard of children, or the baritone pitch of an Alan Almond-esque voice are all enough to make me wish I was momentarily deaf. I tried to communicate this annoyance to my Dr., which drew a smile, but no confirmation of cause, although I am willing to bet that my pesky ear troubles have left me with constant auditory reminders of an ear not quite right in shape, sound or sensation. And so, I am faced with the irritation of the Chinese keyboard torture, the happy whistler and expressive infants as a sweet reminder of my preserved hearing. I guess…  you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have… the facts of a life of disordered hearing!

I feel I should also explain the hearing test. While I understand that it is conducted in a controlled environment, I would really love to know how well I would do without pre-knowing when the next beep will sound and in which ear. So, as it always goes, you sit in a soundproof booth with stereo style headphones or conducting earphones that sit on the mastoid bone behind the ear, and you raise your hand that corresponds to the ear you hear the sound in. Never mind that it is made even easier as you can usually see the audiologist pressing keyboard keys to signal when the next beep will be played, which is usually perfectly timed only seconds apart. Sometimes they will play fake wind noises in the opposite ear as a distraction; or if you pay attention they will look up from the corner of their eye when you haven’t raised you hand for a series of beeps you have likely missed. As a result, I often find myself in such deep concentration that what I actually can hear in the booth is not likely even remotely possible in everyday life. Perhaps the greatest judge of my Charlie Brown inspired hearing is reflected in the word test, which I have not had the pleasure of participating in France (thank God). In this particular hearing test you turn to the side and the audiologist speaks toward one ear at a time, pronouncing a word that you have to repeat. Now this is where the true colours of my hearing shine, and while I can hear the word, or part of the word or something resembling sound, what I process and actually hear is not always accurate, and the word ‘car’ will sound like ‘jar’ or ‘bar’ (where I would rather be than defending my wonky hearing). Or the word, ‘girl’ will sound like ‘pearl’ or ‘hurl’ (which I would like to do to the test itself). You get the point ;)

And so, I consider myself fortunate that I can continue to be inspired through music, grow in French comprehension with slowly increasing confidence and decreasing concentration, and add to the growing list of auditory annoyances that serve as a reminder to stop and listen!

You can keep my Canadian licence...

So after some thought and frenzied French driving, I have come to the realization that it is probably a good thing that I swapped my Canadian licence for a French one, as for the safety and security of everyone, I should never attempt to drive in Canada again….

Now this is not an admission of bad driving on my part, although I have been known to frighten some former passengers at previous ultra responsible occupations; this is more of a recognition of the distinct driving differences between Europe and North America. For example, when you try to jam the population of Ontario into a city the size of Windsor, you inevitably get agitated drivers, honking horns, narrow road ways further narrowed by cars (usually illegally) parked along either side. Lanes reserved just for buses, cars driving and cutting through these lanes, multiple exits merely degrees apart from one another, and a GPS that tells you to turn left when clearly that means a slight right before the left…. Hopefully I’ve painted a clear picture! So, what’s a girl to do but further hone her defensive, ahem, aggressive driving skills and join in the fun!

I think I am developing hawk like vision from French driving, as you have to be ultra aware of pedestrians, street lights, and the odd stop sign (and that’s when you are not looking out for a yield sign or wonky painted lines on the road in every direction and pattern imaginable). Plus, figuring out which ‘Michigan right’ style u-turn lane is appropriate, which streets are one way and in which direction (as the parked cars along it indicate both directions and allude to non-existent cross-roads, as per the sideways parked Smart cars), and no parking signs that look eerily similar to do not enter signs… should I continue?

The thought of driving on spacious, straight, flat streets now seems rather intimidating! I am used to being tailgated and tailgating as it is necessary to fit all the cars, bikes, and pedestrians on the limited road surface and to keep traffic edging along smoothly. The lack of brake lights has also become habitual as most cars are manual and merely switch between gears avoiding the brake pedal; and the occasional use of turn signals, especially on roundabouts where you just nudge in and then off at your exit.  So I am now somewhat fearful at the prospect of ever driving again in Canada as I don’t know what I would do at the sight of a driveway, a free parking lot or a large roadway. I would probably by default become involved in a road rage situation because I was inadvertently tailgating someone (okay so this was a skill I developed long before my vie en France). Although, I now wonder why North Americans are such aggressive and angry drivers? I mean, the roads are arranged simply and conveniently, parking is abundant, and largely free or cheap, and traffic jams are reserved for morning and evening commuters. Yet here in Europe, it is customary to play bumper cars when parallel parking, it is expected that you cut off the driver who is hesitant and unsure of where they are going, and it is accepted that you use your horn (which is usually a cheesy push button on the end of the turn signal or wiper lever) whenever you are inconvenienced, which is always! And, while they love to throw their arms up in frustration and complain from the convenience of their car, there are few incidents of road rage, flipping the bird or fear of driver retaliation.

Would I become rebellious, and start parking on sidewalks and half on curbs just for fun? Would I balk at the outrageous insurance costs while celebrating cheaper gas rates and barely existent toll fees? Would I forget how to parallel park in one seamless manoeuvre, or nudge a car out of habit rather than necessity? Would I laugh at affordable parking tickets and the simple online payment system? Oh, how would I fare in the future of Canadian driving??? Would the days of 8 point parallel parking with my car acting as a pinball ball bouncing between dinged up cars plague me? Would I screech around a cul de sac pretending it was a roundabout? Would I park on your lawn instead of your driveway in longing reminiscence? Would I ask the clerk at the tabac store, sorry, gas station for a stamp to prove I paid my parking ticket? What would it look like?

Well, let this be my reminder… and please oh please let me not get another 35€ parking ticket for parking on a sidewalk with the rest of the law breaking Frenchies, especially when my monthly insurance cost is less than 40€!…

Parked on the sidewalk outside my place...
not where I received the parking ticket ;)

Parking - a Parisian example!

Driving Forward

About a week and a half ago, with mixed hesitation, excitement, pride and apprehension, exchanged a small piece of my Canadian identity for a larger, slowly rooting French one. Another official piece of the French puzzle was put in place, as I handed over my Ontario driver’s licence for a French permit… or at least one step closer toward an actual French licence, as I received in exchange a piece of paper attesting to a French licence that I should receive in the mail. Please read my post on my AngloInfo Blog for more about that day.

Temporary French Permit

Now to be completely honest, my reason for exchanging my licence was more about dreading the prospect of having to pass a French written and driving exam, and less about wanting a French licence; but the ease of the exchange was helpful, and I only had to submit missing or incomplete documents once for this particular piece of the French pie! Okay so that missing piece was ridiculous and silly and I had to prove that I lived in Canada for the first 6 months of having my licence (Why? Great question, I wish I knew?) Thank-you St. Thomas of Villanova for my school transcripts, and thank-you Sarah & Shawn for picking them up and hand delivering them to me in France! But perhaps my greatest gratitude is that I made it in before one year to exchange my licence, avoiding the mandatory French exam. Having failed my beginners once and my road test twice in Canada (okay so I am not painting a good picture of myself here ;) I was terrified of the idea of having to prove I could drive in France, in French! And as I have described the French road rules in the past, I will only say that safe driving = aggressive, defensive, assured, hyper observant and confident driving. There is no room for apprehension, confusion, braking or fear on the fierce roads of France! So a huge halleluiah for that!

 

Even though it is such a simple part of life, and it is only a card (with perhaps one of the best pictures of me on a government issued ID – I snuck in a slight smile, so I don’t look haunted and pissed off, like most official ID pictures), there is still a sense of a swapping identity, and a slight loss of my Canadian one.  A few days after the licence exchange, I saw a video that while highlighting some very renowned Canadian stereotypes made me laugh and long to preserve and maintain my Canadian sense of self and identity! While I navigate the waters of national and cultural identity and continue to paint and piece together the puzzle of my life, I know that I will always remain rooted to my upbringing, experiences and memories of Canada!

Video - Canada (by Low)



Time flies....

What's that expression again? Time flies when you’re having fun? Well I am slightly mystified as September flew by, and I was reminded of this when I saw the title of my last post 'speedy September', although it was not a particular month of fun (in the conventional sense, anyways)... While there were welcomed discoveries and new opportunities, there were also significant moments of loneliness and contemplation. A full month of feeling and emotion, dreaming and thinking, restless sleeping and overall reflection, yet October 1^st arrived yesterday as if out of nowhere and a new month is dawning.
                                                                                                       
The last 2 weeks since my last post have brought more opportunities to socialize, speak French and tie up loose ends, while serving as a reminder to let go and let live, and to quiet my inner voice, which is usually overly self critical, demanding and protective.

On the work front, our phone lines are supposed to be direct dial, however, two or three times now, my phone (and the only one in the office) rang spontaneously, which of course I am expected to answer, although with reserved hesitation as I know the caller will most likely speak French. And on each occasion, I reluctantly answered and in my best French re-directed the call after mumbled French niceties and slight embarrassment on my part for jumbling and fumbling with basic French conversation and candour. But moments of self pride and humour they were, coupled with a gentle reminder of natural progression and learning and the importance of nudging forward despite stubborn self pride and a desire to get it right.

Continuing on the job updates, the work environment is very multicultural with colleagues from all parts of  Europe, speaking and changing between many languages throughout the day, from Italian to Greek, Slovakian to Spanish, and of course French with some English in between. I am learning that in Europe while it is common to speak more than one language, the desire and passion to learn new languages is captivating and not filled with the same reservations or hesitations that I struggle with. It definitely makes speaking French a bit easier as I know that I am in the same boat as some of my colleagues, although many are bilingual or trilingual!

Over the past couple of weeks, I have joined a colleague for drinks after work and while we should practice our rudimentary French, good conversations were had in English and a sense of a diminished social existence was lifted!  I have also joined in a few extra activities through the English group I volunteer for (Act4), and re-started the French-English exchange I began several months ago. Although mostly in English, some French is peppered in for good measure and practice. I am happy to say though, that I notice my comprehension is improving and my speaking is starting to trudge along with less effort, the same level of error ;) but with a bit more confidence and less hesitation!

I have lived beyond frugally over the past month, and I am amazed at how little I can survive on; although this does not include the plane ticket booked on my credit card for Scotland in two weeks!! If I have ever lived outside of the box, this may be one of the more significant experiences to date, despite moving to France, of course, as financially speaking I have always been in control with a sense of security, saving and spending wisely. Let me tell you, following a summer of travel, unemployment and the French government denying my request for employment insurance, my monetary outlook is barely afloat, although I am learning that it is the experiences and adventures of life that pay the greatest rewards. And so, I will be embarking on a short jaunt to Scotland in 2 weeks, for 4 days, to visit a good friend travelling there from Canada, and I will figure out the financial piece a little later. Because at the end of the day I will look back on this experience and say the cost was trivial in comparison to the experience.

And now I enter October, the final month, leading up to the one year mark in France… where I will be giving small group private English lessons, continue to practice and speak in French, and travel to Scotland…

And on October 23 I will celebrate one year in France. How is that for time flies..?