Albi et la fête de la musique

We decided to take a break - 'prendre une pause' - and drive to the World Heritage city of Albi for a couple of days.

We were lucky as the sun shone incessantly, our hotel had a pool and our room a terrace overhung with wisteria, and it just so happened to be the national Fête de la Musique, so double lucky!

Albi, like Toulouse, is built of slim rose toned bricks and has a very distinctive architecture as a result.  A friend commented 'Game of Thrones' and I think this is rather apt. 

Any settlement that's over two thousand years old and has witnessed pestilence, famine, war, revolution, bloodshed, political intrigue and religous slaughter is bound to have a bit of character.

On a quiet morning before the bustle begins, weaving along the narrow cobbled streets in search of an almond brioche (or two) is almost like time travelling.

I enjoyed the history...

the Toulouse-Lautrec museum..

 ..and the architecture.

I did also enjoy the Saturday morning brocante, but was a bit taken aback at the touristic prices - the by word is 'nice to look, nice to hold but certainly don't consider anything sold'!

Alex was very happy to be immersed in all manner of music for three days...

It still amazes us to buy a drink from a specially set up street bar, wander around with wine glass in hand along with thousands of others, watch bands and DJs perform to all ages from 2 to 100 and not catch even a glimpse of a policeman or security - the whole event is trouble free.  Very impressive.

Albi was very appealing, the only thing missing for us was its distance from the coast.  We shall, however, return whenever we need a World Heritage fix.  And we'll certainly stay again in the cheap and chic, very well endowed 2 star Hôtel Laperouse  www.hotel-laperouse.com!

In Praise of Pink Wine and White Oleander

May was a hot month here, April too, which meant that the trees, flowers and vines came into bud and bloom about three weeks to a month earlier than usual.  We like this, but the négociants or vintners of the region are reserving judgement as too much too soon can have adverse affects on a vintage.

One of the loveliest events of the year is the blooming of the oleander - laurier rose in French - which is a plant dear to the hearts of the South because when its bridal like blossoms fill the streets with glorious confectionary colours and heady scents, summer has truly arrived.

It makes me a little sad to think that oleander is almost actively discouraged in Australia.  It's difficult to grow flowers in Australia due to drought and humidity, yet the flamboyant and festive oleander would thrive in such conditions and add a welcome flash of colour for all of summer and autumn.  

Oleander gets a bad rap as the nectar and sap is poisonous if very large amounts are ingested.  But there are almost no recorded deaths from oleander, and birds and animals are largely resistant to it.  The harm it is supposed to do is more urban myth than reality.

Here, oleander is actively planted everywhere, cultivated, cared for and appreciated.  It's thought of affectionately, rather like the frangipani in Australia.  Perhaps a cultural exchange or a jumelage is needed to promote each plant in the other country?!

I love the pink, it is just so showy and cheerful, the falling petals confetti-like, and the colour is evocative of the delightful pink wines of this region.  The 2013 rosé vintage that we are drinking now is an absolute winner, the long, hot summer of last year producing some wonderful wines of captivating colour and taste.  Should I ever return to Australia, I shall miss rosé wine, it's just so - fun!  There's another cultural exchange I'd like to promote.  Maybe I have found my vocation - the Rosé wine and Laurier Rose ambassador!

There's no word for 'wedding' in French..

...it's a 'mariage' - but you can have a marriage without a wedding:

A marriage is a long term relationship between two individuals. A wedding, on the other hand, is the ceremony of getting married.

Lucky us!  We got to do the wedding bit!  We were really looking forward to catering what promised to be a très chic event, but didn't realise we'd enjoy it quite as much as the guests.

Not having been to many French weddings (i.e. just the one) we didn't really know what to expect.  Do guest wear hats? Throw confetti?  Make inappropriate speeches?  Are sexy bridesmaids and well scrubbed page boys to be expected?  A three tier cake?  And dancing to bad disco hits?

The answer my friends, is OUI.  Oui, oui, and oui.  All the good things we know and love.

You can't knock a good wedding, especially when the French bride and groom are brave enough to have fish and chips as part of the catering and the whole event is held in a dreamy, rock star South of France maison de maitre (think Mick and Bianca circa '72) with fairy lights, formal gardens and champagne on tap.

 

We had a ball.  Jacques, dressed as a Frite, kept us supplied with said champagne. Sophisticated Parisienne lawyers danced the Macarena.  Tisane the cat kept watch on the roof of the trailer. 

There was high demand for our fares for most of the night (fish & chips are 'class', 'mignon' and 'chic' for the French) and it turns out the owner of the house is a screenplay writer who may want our trailer to appear in a (murder) episode of one of her detective mini series - let's hope it doesn't involve food poisoning.....

It's been over two years now...

...and we're still here, trying to make our way in a French world.  Sometimes it feels as if it might as well be a Martian world, so alien certain things are!

I've been quiet for four months I realise, and having been innundated with requests (well, 2..) to recommence French Lessons I thought it would be good to get into the groove again.

Facebook people will know that during those four months I posted every day for 100 days things that made me happy - harder than it sounds!  From February to May I featured flowers and kittens and all things in between, including our new endeavour to earn a crust in a country notoriously difficult and intractable for natives and foreigners alike.

 

A year of planning, six months of tussling with documents and Mairies and eventually Mr. Fish & Chips opened its shutters to serve traditional British poisson et frites to difficult and intractable French locals.  It hasn't been easy, but it's certainly been interesting, we've learned an awful lot and improved our vocabulary into the bargain - mostly concerning fish and chips, strangely enough.

We are still in Pomerols, we are still annoyed beyond belief about Lunch Time and Closed Sunday and Crap Coffee, we still appreciate the cheap wine and charming country side, the finds at the flea markets are still frenchy and fab, but we are on a different side of the fence now.  We are looking at the Languedoc and France as tax paying members of the community and wondering what the future holds.  It does seem that the French people who sample our fish and chips like it and come back for more, but will this afford us a life of comfort and joy in the long term?  Will I ever learn to love being a Fish Wife, Alex a Short Order Chef?? 

In the interests of punchy and interesting posts, I shall try to deliver weekly updates - maybe more often!  Stay alert for vivid thumbnails of our life and times in the slow lane.  Will battered cod and big chips sweep the nation and launch us into the big time?  Or will it all prove too much and it'll be Goodbye Mr. Chips..??