The Fog Of Awwwwww…

Tags

Family, France, French, fun, funny, Humor, Humour, photography, stay-at-home Dad

I’m taking a gamble today trying the kids out at a new place. Always a risky choice with kids, deviating from the norm. Plus I wasn’t sure if the village I’d decided to visit had a park. I knew what would happen if I didn’t find one. That would be all I would hear about for a week. I saw promising signs on the way into the village, and pulled up at the local lake. Parks and lakes go together like fish and chips, right?

The kids were not initially impressed by my risky gamble…

Me: ‘Look at this, what a great view, all that fog’

Him: ‘It’s all white daddy, look! Everything is white!’

Me: ‘Yes, this is a reaction caused by the cold weather’

Him: (a rare moment of parental concern) ‘Will you be warm enough daddy? You don’t have a thick coat like us on, yours is thin, you might be too cold’

Me: (tear rolls gently down face and almost freezes on cheek) ‘It’s OK son, I’ll be fine, thanks for asking though’

Her: ‘Awwww….there’s no park here’

Me: ‘Yes, but there might be one on the other side, and look at all this fog, doesn’t it look great?’

Her: Blows air out of her mouth and makes a negative ‘Pfffffft’ noise that you would  expect to hear from someone in their forties. This ‘Pfffffft’ effortlessly conveys and encapsulates her disappointment with the location, the scenery, the weather and me.

Me: (Looking up at the chateaux shrouded in fog and pointing it out to the kids) ‘What a great castle eh? Look at the height of the walls, I bet this was a good place to defend and look (pointing at ditch that runs along the base of the wall) I bet there was a moat here once too, what do you think?’

Her: ‘There’s no park here’

Him: ‘What’s that daddy?’

Me: ‘It’s where we put naughty kids’

Him: ‘Can you open it?’

Me: ‘No’

Him: ‘Ha, ha! Daddy can’t put us in there, he doesn’t have any keys. Ha, ha!’

Him: ‘Why are you taking pictures of a toilet? Why daddy? Why?’

Me: ‘It’s just in such a great location, look at it, surrounded by all the trees and leaves’

Him: ‘Weecee, it’s a Weecee’

Me: ‘No, it’s a ‘WC’

Him: ‘What’s that mean’

Me: ‘I don’t know’ (I’ve remembered now, without the aid of Wikipedia, and I think it means ‘Water Closet’)

Me: ‘Come on, I’ll take a picture of you both under this little house’

Her: ‘There’s no park here’

Me: ‘There’ll be one round here I’m sure. Now why don’t you both get under the house for a nice photo for mummy?’

Him: ‘No, I want to hug a tree instead’ (Hugs tree)

Her: ‘Weeee! A park!’

Him: (disappears in a puff of air and reappears on the see-saw)

Me: (thinking: ‘Everything looks wet – where are the swings?’)

Me: (Now bored of the park – quickly done) ‘Let’s have a look over here kids, I think I can see something’

Both: ‘What is it?’

Me: ‘I think it’s….

Me: ….another toilet! And look, it’s got a little heart-shaped hole, how romantic’

Him: ‘I am getting really annoyed at you daddy, why do you keep taking pictures of toilets? Stop taking pictures of toilets daddy!’

After venturing inside and using the ‘facilities’

Me: ‘Why is the lock on the outside? How strange…and a little bit worrying’

Her: ‘Can we go back to the park now?’

Me: ‘Let’s have a look over here, I think I can hear something, can you hear the water?’

Both: ‘Yes!’

Me: ‘Maybe it’s a waterfall?’

It’s NOT a waterfall….

Me: ‘Well, it’s not a waterfall, but it’s close’

Her: ‘No it isn’t’

Me: ‘Let me take a picture of you in front of the foggy lake, and promise not to stick your tongue out’

Him: ‘OK daddy, I promise’

Me: (takes photo knowing exactly what will happen)

Him: (is seven-year-old boy, therefore sticks tongue out anyway)

Both: ‘What’s that daddy?’

Me: ‘It’s a little island, do you want to live on it for a couple of weeks and give me and your mum some peace?’

Him: ‘No!’

Her: (launches a series of physical attacks upon my person, primarily focused on the groin-area)

Him: ‘What are you doing daddy?’

Me: ‘Just taking a nice photo’

Him: ‘Shall we play a game? It’s where the first person to speak loses, so everybody has to be quiet’

Me: (nodding so eagerly that I develop neck ache later in the day) ‘Yes that sounds like a good game’

 

This is now my favourite game and one that is unfortunately short-lived, but lasts just long enough too get us back to the car, whereupon it’s business as usual and I drive home with what appears to the casual observer  – and sounds exactly like – two wild animals in the back of the car.

It could have been worse though.

At least there was a park eh?

‘Fêtes franco-écossaises d’Aubigny’ AKA The Scottish Festival…

Tags

Culture, France, French, funny, History, Humor, Humour, photography, Photos, Scotland, Scottish

Each year my village celebrates the ‘Auld Alliance’ that exists between Scotland and France. We are the last village in the country to keep this tradition going – I don’t know why the other slackers dropped out, maybe they fell out with Scotland?

So each year hordes of Scottish people (usually around 30, does that constitute a horde?) and various people from across the globe descend on our sleepy village to make a lot of noise to commemorate this historic link. The festival runs for three days and three nights, starting on the Friday and finishing up on the Sunday.

There are a variety of activities that go on – traditional methods of making shoes, tools and armour are displayed. Feats of strength such as caber tossing and wrestling sit alongside sword-fighting and archery displays.

There were even dogs pulling barrels full of booze this year.

I did not ask if the dogs drank any of it, this is France so they probably did though.

I always take loads of pictures, and that’s what this blog will feature. There will be lots of men in kilts, so if you don’t like that I’d stop reading now.

On the plus side though, at least you can’t hear the bagpipes. I could. They are bloody awful things if you ask me.

I kept that to myself though over the course of the festival…

So now you are thinking to yourself ‘Where’s the dog pulling the barrel full of booze? He said there’d be a dog pulling a barrel full of booze, but I didn’t see a dog pulling a barrel full of booze, did you Clive?’ ‘Eh…err, no I didn’t Shirley’.

So just for my imaginary readers Shirley and Clive here is a dog pulling a barrel full of booze:

The Best Photograph Of The Holiday…

Tags

Family, kids, love, photography, Photos, Relationships, stay-at-home Dad

Here it is, my favourite shot from our recent holiday. Showing the beauty of my daughter (Oh I’m going to have fun when she’s older) and the goofy sweetness of my son. One of those photos that makes you feel blessed…

 

Also the sea looked lovely too.

I Still Love Hunting For Crabs Under Rocks, Because I’m Just A Big Kid Really…

Tags

Crabs, France, funny, holidays, Humor, kids, photography, Sealife, stay-at-home Dad

This is the equivalent of finding a ten pound note to me – albeit one that you can’t spend, and can’t keep either. Alright, bad analogy.

 

Ever since I can remember rock pools have fascinated and attracted me. Those areas that trap a bit of sea water and contain so much life, a tiny little microcosm of the ocean. Of particular interest are the rocks themselves, because upon lifting them up they generally reveal a bounty of treasures: crabs.

I bloody love crabs.

Not eating them though, if I’m honest, never really developed a taste for them. But seeing them revealed, under a rock, and then scuttling away or – even more entertaining – seeing me as a threat and holding their claws aloft (just like the crabs in Finding Nemo).

This appetite for uncovering these crustacean critters has spread to my kids, and especially to my son.

I’ve always known he loved these crab-hunting trips, but it really came to the fore during our recent trip to Ile d’Oleron, a beautiful island off the west coast of France. We spent a lovely week there – well, after the first three days of rain had buggered off anyway – and pretty much from day one my son was pestering me to take him crab hunting.

I love when you find something that you have in common with your kids and, if I’m being honest, I was probably having more fun than they were. I was definitely having more fun than my partner – their mum – anyway. As evidenced on the many occasions when she would sigh ‘Come on! It’s tea time, let’s go!’ and we would slowly, slowly head back towards her, stopping to collect shells, or look under more rocks as her face got longer, and longer.

We didn’t just discover crabs though, my son and I, as the following photographs show. I won’t even try to pretend to know what some of these things are, they just look bizarre. I will tag them with what I think they are but, as I’m no marine biologist, apologies if I’m wrong.

I can say with absolute certainty that this is a crab.

 

Claws aloft, ready to bring the pain if I put my fingers near those pincers (I didn’t)

 

An incredibly brave/stupid crab here. Hiding under an excitable 7-year-old’s shoe is not a great idea. Happy to say that both crab and shoe are safe and sound*. (*unless a seagull ate it after we left… the crab I mean, not the shoe, nobody would eat my son’s shoes).

 

This one is a tad smarter, he knows I won’t hurt him, look at how comfy he looks, his face just screams ‘I have found my haven! Hurrah!’. Also he’s definitely a crab. 

 

This one isn’t too clear but that is actually a hermit crab on the rock, in the centre. First one my son had ever seen and, of course, he wanted to keep him. You may notice the lump of slime to the right, but that’s no ordinary lump of slime because it’s… 

 

….a sea slug thingy!!! Yes I can say with absolute vagueness that this is definitely some kind of slug-like sea creature. I thought it was just some inanimate slime at first till it started moving. Funnily enough, my son did NOT want to keep him.

 

The underneath of a limpet (I think), not something we see every day, but they are by far the most popular shell that the kids find on their shell hunts. 

 

Here we see, floating amongst the sea snails, a (drum roll)….possible small jellyfish, or something like that. Definitely not just a piece of floating tissue paper, or a large amount of phlegm, which was my (and your) first thought.

 

The Christmas Market At Baugy – Cold Enough To Freeze The Balls Off A Brass Monkey!

Tags

christmas, Family, France, French, fun, funny, Humor, Markets, photography, Photos

Nothing screams Christmas like a metal Minion. Handcrafted, and yours for just 750 Euros.

Brrrrr. Whose idea was this? Christmas markets sound lovely in theory, don’t they? Then you get there and there are loads and loads of people, browsing stalls that are – unhappily – selling loads and loads of tat.

Then there are the stalls that are selling artisanal items, handcrafted and carefully painted, they’ve clearly had a lot of effort put into them. You’d hope so anyway, after you look at the price tag. 250 Euros for a Flamingo made out of copper and bamboo? Are you having a laugh?

I also love the fact that – no matter what the theme of the market, or for whatever reason it’s being held – you will always, always find a hook-a-duck stall doing a roaring trade. These things are essentially pound shops with hook-a-ducks stuck on the front of them. And they will always have at least one toy that your child will want, that they can’t have for some reason.

‘So the plastic sword and shield are ok?’. Oui, they will nod at you.

‘And the plastic Slinky is ok?’. Oui, they will nod at you.

‘But not the radio controlled drone with 2.4 megapixel camera?’. Non, they will say to you.

Honestly, hook-a-duck stalls and those carousel* rides are just another form of tax for parents.

I sound like a Christmas-market Grinch don’t I? I do like them, really, but not when they are so busy and sooooooo cold.

You’d think I’d know better, time of year and all. Maybe I should start a campaign to hold Christmas markets in June, and then limit the amount of attendees to something reasonable. Like ten people. That’s me, the missus, the kids and 6 stall holders.

And nobody is allowed to sell goods in excess of 30 Euros.

And no smelly cheeses.

And no stalls selling tat.

And no tiny dogs that I keep nearly stepping on.

Bah humbug.

Anyway, enough moaning. We went to one near us in Baugy recently, a quaint little village tucked away in central France. It had the usual stuff. Here are some photographs for you to have a look at.

Oh, and in case I haven’t impressed it upon you enough – IT WAS BLOODY COLD.

And that’s coming from a Yorkshire man.

Enjoy!

42% of this shot is pavement – I had it measured by Yourphotographyskillssuck.fr

 

Bit more like it, nice Christmas tree – note women who has 5% of face visible, did I mention it was cold?

 

Yes, that is indeed a 1100 litre Rubbermaid Brute wheelie bin. Magnificent isn’t she?

 

Here we have a depiction of the lesser-known Santa, Freak Santa, so called because he has no arms, and he’s been in the game that long that his sack has fused to his body. Poor Freak Santa.

 

Another fabulous shot of mostly-pavement.

 

Note the juxtaposition of the foreground star and background tree, such a union of Christmas imagery that one’s soul could weep. Actually no, it was the cold making my eyes water.

 

I had tried to trick my kids into entering this, allowing me to then leave them safely trapped within it. But they are wise to my ways, and now carry wire-cutters and stihl saws with them at all times, so that they can break out of whatever I try and lock them inside of.

 

Oh joy. Oh Christmas. Oh wow. I can’t feel my fingers anymore. And I’ve just asked somebody for a ‘Verre ob hob chobolabe’ because my lips have gone numb.

 

38% pavement.

 

Every single person in this shot is thinking the same thing: ‘It’s bloody cold, I don’t want a 5 foot metal butterfly for my garden, can we go home now?’.

 

Take one shed. Add Christmas lights. Hey Presto! One Christmas-themed shed! This one sold Monster energy drinks in case you are wondering.

 

All I want for Christmas is a pair of scissors and five minutes alone with Giant-Inflatable-Santa.

 

Now this was more like it! She had heat, she had sausages…but no brown sauce 😦

 

Look who’s eyeballing me – it looks like Mark Lamarr! Could be too, I’ve not seen him in years.

 

These Santas seem to have gotten quite commercial. This was the third we’d seen at various markets, and they all had professional photographers with them. We didn’t hang around to see what they were charging.

 

52% pavement

 

That poor man with no hair and no hat. Can you get a frostbite of the head?

 

This has to be the worst picture of the lot. Why have I even put this in here?

 

‘Mummy mummy, buy us some rubbish that we will later lose interest in and/or break. Buy it for us, or we will make your life hell for the next 30-90 minutes’.

 

I hope you enjoyed my photographical-feast**, full of positivism and love for all the things that make a Christmas market in France what it is.

Next time I will wear gloves.

And stay at home.

Have a lovely Christmas everyone xxx

 

*You know the ones I’m talking about, loads of cars and helicopters and crocodiles with badly painted Disney characters on them going round in a circle. They always dangles some weird-looking thing down so your kid can grab it and have another go for ‘free’. I say for free like that – in inverted commas – because they generally target parents with more than one kid on the ride. This is because they know that the other kid(s) will immediately kick off and so they will be forced to pay for another go round for the other child as well. Win-win for the carousel-owner.

**Yes, I know photographical isn’t a word. It’s redlined – twice – as I’m typing this. I don’t care.

My Favourite French Photograph*

Tags

Countryside, Family, France, French, kids, photography, Photos

 

Here she is, my daughter, being effortlessly beautiful as always.

 

Oh to be young again…

 

The photograph was taken in the back garden** of her French granddad, or ‘papy’ as they are called in France.

 

She’s such a perfect specimen and yet, as I type this, she’s sat on the toilet, giving us a blow-by-blow account of what she’s doing. I won’t fill in the blanks too much, but I would really rather not have a ‘director’s commentary’ if I’m being honest.

 

I could also do without all the grunts.

 

They can be perfect.

 

They can be perfectly vile.

 

Here she just looks perfect.

 

Clothes from the French market.

 

Looks from Mummy.

 

Brains from Mummy.

 

Stick from Daddy.

 

 

*It’s early days, I’m sure we will take many more photographs, but so far this is my favourite.

 

**I use the term ‘back garden’ in its loosest possible sense – ‘vast field’ would be more appropriate. They have land to spare in this glorious country.

The Cemetery Of Saint-Floret – or – A Tomb With A View…

Tags

France, French, Hiking, History, photography, Photos, Tourism, Travel

The cemetery above Saint-Floret can be accessed via a relatively challenging, 15 minute walk/hike. This route, while the quickest, is not recommended for those that struggle with inclines, or families with small children. It could also be viewed as somewhat dangerous to attempt it during inclement weather. Happily there is a longer, safer route up to the graveyard or, if walking is not your thing, then it can be accessed via car, with a car park at its base.

 

As you will see from the following photographs your ascent, whichever way you decide to undertake it, is rewarded with some stunning views…

 

Saint-Floret – A Beautiful Place To Stay…

Tags

France, French, History, holidays, photography, Photos

The view from our bedroom window

 

 

Nestled in the heart of Auvergne, in the Puy-de-Dome Department, is Saint-Floret, a small village of less than 300 inhabitants. Settling on this as our ‘base of operations’ for our holiday, we stayed at a lovely little three story refurbished maison. We knew we had made a great choice when we arrived and found our accommodation was situated right next to the river, meaning we would be able to fall asleep each night with the soothing sounds of the water lulling us into the land of nod.

 

Local amenities were scarce – there were just a couple of restaurants, which served decent grub at reasonable rates, and no supermarkets to speak of – however we were pleasantly surprised to discover the village came equipped with its own 24/7 bread-vending machine – something of a novelty to us Brits and meant that each morning could be started with a lovely, fresh baked repast.

 

There is a small playground within the village – no swings though! – so for families with small children you are guaranteed to have somewhere to go when you brood needs too unwind. Be advised though that the roads are quite narrow and traffic can sometimes go through at above the recommended speeds, so if you are coming with children then please be aware of this.

 

Sights within the village were outstanding, with the small windy alleys leading to treasures for the eyes, while venturing further afield led to even greater discoveries. Above the village lies the cemetery, with stunning views of the Saint-Floret and the surrounding area. A short walk – or drive if you have children – to the north of the village leads you to the ‘Tete de Lion’ an impressive, naturally formed rocky outcropping that is accessible via a not-too-challenging 1.3km circuit – this distance will allow you to see the Lion’s head and get you back to your starting point.

 

The aptly named ‘Tete de Lion’

 

All in all a great place to stay, possibly lacking in much in the way of excitement for the older children, however if you are a walker, a person with an interest in history, or simply someone who admires beautiful views then this is heartily recommended.

 

Ill-Matched Wrestling Matches & A Whole Lot Of Tossing On Day 3 Of Les Fêtes Franco Écossaises in Aubigny Sur Nere..

Tags

Auld Alliance, Culture, Festivals, France, French, Heritage, History, photography, Photos, Pictures, Scotland, Scottish

So we come, at last, to the final day of the festival celebrating the Auld Alliance. As you read this the people who came to entertain and enthral the crowds will be packing up their kilts, deflating their bagpipes and making sure there’s enough fuel in their cars to make the long journey back to Scotland.

 

Except for the people who actually live here that is – they’ll just walk 100 yards to their house.

 

The festival co-coordinators have been lucky in their timing – the weather has been glorious throughout – which has brought the crowds and, crucially, made the crowds thirsty. My plan for next year’s festival is simple – buy lots and lots and lots of alcohol and fizzy pop and then sell it. Then the following year I will be blogging from my yacht.

 

If only.

 

Anyway, enough waffle from me, have a gander at the last lot of photographs…

 

No idea what the sales tactic was here? Perhaps trying to target that Planet Of The Apes/Scottish Highland Fan demographic?

 

Took me right back to Braveheart…’Hold!!!!’

 

There was seldom anyone actually monitoring this stuff, so if someone wanted to flip out – say someone who had two kids and was stressed out on a hot sunny day – then this would be the perfect/worst opportunity to do so.

 

 

These guys were trying to get volunteers to take part in the ancient game of ‘Embarrass yourself in front of your friends by getting them to try to throw a heavy weight over a giant limbo pole, fail miserably and then have to watch you do it expertly while your girlfriend looks on and sighs to herself’

 

It seems ‘almost’ feasible when you look at it…

 

Having said that even the sol called ‘experts’ messed up a few times.

 

 

Having to lower the pole…never a good sign. Still at least you aren’t doing it in front of crowds of people….

 

Pah! He can nearly touch it with his hand now! Amateurs* (*I still didn’t try)

 

Load of Knight Templar chilling out. I don’t know what the plural for a load of Knights Templar is and I’m not googling it either.

 

 

Look at the size of those two dogs! We were told they used to hunt bears, wolves and….

 

ENGLISH MEN!!!! RUN AWAY THEY’VE CAUGHT MY SCENT!!!

 

This looks so authentic, but she was reaching down for her iPhone.

 

First mismatched wresting match – the guy on the right weighed half what the guy on the left did.

 

Now this was clearly only ever going to end one way…

 

Or was it….? (he did actually let the little fellow win)

 

This is a bit more like it…

 

Yep, this one was a very evenly matched….match.

 

This was one of many wrestling matches between the professional Highland Wrestling Team and a group of boy (and girl) scouts who were in the area. No prizes for guessing the outcome here….

 

 

 

 

So, as Porky Pig used to say ‘the the the that’s all folks’ I hope you’ve enjoyed looking at the photographs I’ve taken during the festival. I’ve no doubt that this time next year, when the streets of my village ring out with sounds of bagpipes, I’ll be back to cover it again. Have a good one y’hear ken?

 

BAGPIPES GALORE! On Day 2 Of Les Fêtes Franco Écossaises in Aubigny Sur Nere..

Tags

Culture, France, French, Heritage, History, photography, Scotland, Scottish

 

Do you like bagpipes? They are great at new year aren’t they? Really making ‘Auld Lang Syne’ go with a bang, if you are lucky enough to have them playing live as you see in the next year. The rest of the time though, if I’m being honest, I can take them or leave them. Not much chance of avoiding them today though.

 

My ears still hurt.

 

Anyway feast your eyes, and I will spare your ears, on the pictures I took of the many, many battalions of bagpipe players. It may not be to everyone’s tastes, but there’s no denying that these people are awesome when they gather en-masse…