Serre Chevalier

This year's school winter break, was spent skiing in Serre Chevalier in the Southern French Alps. Our first trip to the Alps, to Club Med, and D's first real go at skiing. It snowed almost every night and we enjoyed beautiful sun everyday. With the kids having a blast in the mini club, we couldn't have asked for better ski week.

Our proud Flocon

P's week was focused on passing her ski level and getting her Flocon badge. She talked about it so much, I started to worry if would she pass. Surely they pass everyone at this low of a level? I asked my Ski instructor and she said, yes, they do in fact fail the poor little things. Rupert and I were quite worried at the big awards ceremony - would she pass and if not would they treat the children who didn't pass with some sensitivity? This is France after all, where sugar coating is generally reserved for pastries. In the end she passed...phew... and she wears her Flocon pin proudly.

P completing her ski exam

D's focus for the week was the big mini club spectacle. Nothing could keep her away from participating. It's amazing that Club Med could pull together over 200 kids, under the age of 10 in 15 odd numbers, but they really pulled it off - it was a blast. Click the link and see D wiggle in her brazilian number (she starts out second from left).

Click here

Leading up to the trip, I was very curious to see how a French ski vacation might differ from Canadian one. In the end, it was pretty much the same, even the ski fashion. My visions of sparkly one piece ski suits and crowds of Parisians clad in fur were not realized. But then there were the Moon Boots. They were everywhere, on everyone and in every color. Please don't tell if these are a la mode in Whistler, I can't bear it.

We ended our week by taking the girls in the egg gondola (very euro) up the mountain. A couple of wrong turns down some very steep slopes and the girls ski lessons were really put to the test. P really loves speed, and was shooting down in a tuck position most of the way. This was a real highlight for Rupert who was in his jock element and was very proud.

Yes we can!

This week Disa's school hosted a cocktail party at the US ambassador's residence just off the Champs Elysees. With Rupert away with work, I cleaned myself up and headed off with friends for a little fun and a peek at how a powerful American lives in Paris.

The event was met with the expected US security measures; our names needed to be submitted two weeks in advance, the taxi was not allowed to stop in front of the residence, our passports and invitation were carefully inspected, and the obligatory metal detector at the entrance to the palatial house set the scene.

Besides an obnoxious speech from the Montessori Director, who implied that the idea for the school had been dreamt up by she and Henry Kissinger in that very room, we had a great time. My friends and I enjoyed touring the many gold gilded rooms, admiring paintings of George Washington, drinking champagne and acting silly for the camera (when no one was looking). We did not however rub elbows with the ambassador himself, according to the butler he was upstairs in bed watching the muppets.

My friend and I were the first to arrive at the party, so we quickly stole a photo behind the podium. "Any questions?....Yes we can!"

With Andrea in one of the reception rooms.

Sortie

Today, I volunteered to chaperon P’s school sortie (field trip) to a live theatre production. It was probably my most harrowing experience since landing in Paris. Our trip, which included long walks to and from the metro down busy Paris streets, a metro transfer through a VERY crowded station, and the loading and unloading of the trains on crowded platforms. With 4 chaperons and 30 kids, our journey didn't exactly scream safe to me. City kids! I can’t imagine any Canadian school assuming this kind of liability, but it worked. P’s maitress was incredibly calm throughout the entire ordeal. I was sweating buckets.

I took it as a good sign that P even asked me to chaperon. As someone who enjoyed misbehaving at school, I never wanted my parents to come on class trips. One of P’s biggest issues at school this year was that she didn't want anyone to know that she didn't speak French. I reminded her that "I don’t speak French very well myself” and she responded “you can come, as long as you don’t speak English”. I tried my best to not “out” her, but many of the kids immediately approached me and asked if I was English (they've always known). Some of the boys made fun of my accent.

Our destination, Le Pantoufle (the slipper), was a children's play about the thoughts and experiences of baby in his mothers womb represented by the slipper.

It was not what you would typically expect for a kids play. It was quite arty in its themes and staging, with a relatively high production value. At the end the “baby”, played by a 50 something year old man, strips down to a naked suit, labia defined and all, to discover HE, was in fact a baby girl.
The "safe" voyage across town, coupled with the "questionably age appropriate" content of the play left me feeling a bit uptight and uncosmopolitan - the French arts never cease to surprise and impress me!

Sancerre

On route to drop P off at school today, we waited behind a classmate of hers at a red light. As we waited, the boy tried to read the sign of the store across the street. For about a minute he struggled to sound out the word phonetically and his mother patiently waited at his each attempt and corrected him, at each sound, when he got it wrong. The two finally worked out the word together, “Sancerre”, but the lesson did not stop there.

The mother immediately started to define Sancerre for her son “…a region in the Loire Valley…” I heard “…a light white wine…” and so her lesson went.

Each time I overhear a discussion between French people, I am amazed at the detail they give in informal conversation when discussing wine. From what part of the mountain the grapes grow on, soil, to personal details about the farmer - how on earth did they come to this topic in a 5min conversion, at a Birthday party pickup? Perhaps it’s a common language they all speak regardless of their backgrounds and interests?

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a mother is giving her six year old, an introduction to the wines of Sancerre. It’s for his own social survival!

Now I must pause to take a sip of my glass of Chablis, exact location of the grapevine unknown.

First day on Blades

Jet lag wasn't enough to keep our girls from dragging us off the couch, to try out their new Christmas rollerblades. Lucky they did, we almost missed the first batch of buches on the curb.

Anybody out there?

Saturday Afternoon Walk

After over a year, there is still fun and new things to discover walking around our neighbourhood, on a Saturday afternoon

P & D play amongst the Velib bikes. Velib is a public bike rental programme in Paris. There are over 20,000 bicycles and 1,450 stations, roughly one station every 300 metres throughout the city centre, making Vélib’ the largest system of its kind in the world. The bikes are free for the first half hour, with a nominal rental fee after that. Our late night/early morning attempts to use the bikes have yet to be successful unfortunately. When we finally figure it out, it will our late night journies home, a whole lot easier.

Bridge girls
The kissing Bandit strikes again

Our monthly ET shot

Playing in the leaves outside the Palais du Tokyo.


D plays hide and seek among the exhibits at Photoquai. Photoquai is an outdoor photo exhibit, held on the banks of the Seine at the Musée du quai Branly. The exhibit shows the work of 50 contemporary photographers from around the world, little known photographic talents in European terms, who come from the major geographical areas represented in the collections of the musée du quai Branly : South America and Latin America, North America, Asia, Oceania, Africa and the Near and Middle East. It's a pretty cool exhibit. This was my second visit and I will probably go back before it closes.
http://www.photoquai.fr/en/

The girls join a Peruvian gang at Photoquai

P moves in closer to determine if the subject is actually living. The girls are still at odds with their conclusions.

Malta

To kick off the first of our many school holidays this year, The BC family headed off to Malta, a small island, just south of Sicily. Our primary motivation in choosing Malta was that Rupert’s great grandfather, General Sir Charles Bonham-Carter, was governor of Malta before WWII. With the country’s location being only a two hour flight from Paris, now seemed like the perfect time to go and uncover some BC history.

Not much bigger than Amherst Island, Malta is jammed packed with forts, stunning churches, ancient ruins, medieval towns and friendly people. As well as hitting the island's top attractions, we had fun playing detective and tracking down where Great Grandfather BC lived, worked and entertained.

Coincidentally, P’s best friend in Paris, also has a family connection in Malta and they (the Kingston family) were also visiting while we were there. We had a great time together, and Mike's knowledge and enthusiasm of Maltese history was a big bonus and very helpful.

We spent our Sunday morning with the Kingston’s at the local market at Marsaxlokk. The market itself hugs the shoreline of a beautiful bay, filled with the traditional multicoloured Maltese boats called luzzus. Absolutely the most beautiful location for a market I have ever seen!

P, happy as a clam to be sitting with her BFF and enjoying the bay full of boats in Marsaxlokk.

D & P with P's BFF in front of a Luzzu near the market

Rupert, P&D walking in the footsteps of Sir Charles in front on St.John's Co-Cathedral.

Inside St.John's

Rupert finds Great Grandad's name in the list of British Govenors, at the Grand Masters Palace, Malta's house of government located in Valetta.

Rupert and the girls in front of Hagar Qim, one of the ancient temples of Malta. The Maltese temples are the oldest standing stone structures which remain to us from ancient times. The temples date from 4000 - 2500 BC. They are older than Stonehenge, and the Pyramids.

P outside St Anton’s Palace, former residence of Sir Charles and current residence of the President of Malta.

Outside the gates to the gardens of San Anton's Palace.

Marketing

....Hmmmmm.....How can I take a tiny pumpkin and sell it for $8 instead of $1?

I know, put it in a box and sell on the streets of Paris, to expats desparate for a Jack-o-latern.

Brilliant!

La Poésie

Today P had to recite her first of many poems this year, to her entire class. La poésie is a staple in French education, we've heard that schools start this practice as young as age 4. Our little 6 year old orator ended up with an A-, apparently a point was deducted for lack of volume.

We asked her to do a rendition for her online fans. Here is it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hsEnJDdWCjw. Bravo P!