:: holiday snaps

Who's that smoking a cigarette? A glamorous Frenchwoman in the Zen cafe, Rue de Seine. I smoked a few ciggies too - but they were menthol and that doesn't count. I still have the packet, in fact; Pinky was going to throw it out but I snaffled it. It has a great health warning in giant letters: "Fumer tue" - smoking kills. Yeah, whatever.  



Champagne in Les Deux Magots. At the next table, Aurelians discuss alien cloning techniques. Or something. 


Our Metro station. 


Pinky at Notre Dame de Paris. 


Segway! Segway! Everybody Segway!   The Segway tour was mega-fun, even better fun than I'd imagined. Everyone should do it.



The journey of 1,000 miles begins with a single step... 




Daniella keeps Pinky on the straight and, like, totally narrow. 



Concentrate, concentrate. 


We passed all our tests! We are good to go! 


Too much Segway fun is bad for your health, apparently. 


Pausing for thought. 


Brmmmm, brmmm ... bonjour Paree! 


Happy face is good. To start, press the round metal thingie on the yellow plastic thingie on to the round black thingie on the left. And then just lean forward... 


Brrrmmmm, brrmmmmm -- you have to make your own noises; Segway is silent running.  


Daniella tells us some history. "So, like, the Vikings were totally harrassing the Pareezhans..." 


"Stop stunt-riding! You'll run your batteries down!" Nah, Daniella was way kewl. 



Here we are out on the road, waiting for a recycling bin to be emptied. 


Another Segway pic.  


Pinky en bateau.  


French traffic from the top of the Arc de Triomphe. The man in the white coat is a police officer. He wandered out into the traffic blowing his whistle and singled out the car apparently at random. The driver of the little blue car and the bigger car round the corner had previously been stopped and interrogated at length. Note lack of road markings. Scary. 


Pere Lachaise cemetery. 


Pinky joins other mourners at Oscar Wilde's graveside. People were writing quite elaborate notes.  Unfortunately some of the madder fans have kind of ruined it for everyone else - the ugly fence is there to stop people getting lipstick on the angel sculpture (an Epstein, which has famously been castrated - a crabby note posted by the cemetery officials says it's not true that the director keeps the genitals on his desk as a paperweight).


It was a poignant moment for our Pinks.  


I like cemeteries, and this one was a doozy. My favourite tomb: dead man suddenly remembers he forgot to turn off the stove. 



After Paris we got the train to Bordeaux, where we hired a car and drove out into the gorgeous countryside. We had a pique-nique at this idyllic spot. 



Les Eyzies, a lovely riverside town with fabulous cliffs and home to the museum of prehistory.  


Conduirant a droite. C'est facile! 


The farm we stayed on had a sweeping view of the surrounding hills, valleys and forests. And the chicken run. 


Sarlat. I think. Lovely, anyway. 


The farm again. It was a great place.  


This was in Montignac, yet another lovely little town. We had a delicious lunch, followed by cakes from the local bakery. YUM. 


Back in Les Eyzies. 


A view of Les Eyzies from the museum, which was a strikingly modern building. 


Pinky takes in the view at Les Eyzies. 


Le Cro-Mignon! The only French pun I saw, and quite a good one too. Les Eyzies. 


Baby geese, soon to become foie gras. We stopped at this farm to buy pate etc, and ended up getting quite a bit of stuff. As the woman was taking my money and bagging my rillettes and walnut oil, Pinky discovered a book of photos of foie gras production. They really do force-feed the geese with funnels. And oh, who would have guessed their innards look like that! I'm ashamed to say I didn't fling my purchases down and demand a refund. We snuck out and drove away, leaving the cute little goslings to their fate.  


Umm... chateau en route to Rocamadur. Not sure.  


Rocamadur -- Templar stronghold. Also where we noticed the wing mirror/indicator was broken. Spent the rest of the holiday with an 800 euro excess hanging over our heads. Weeks later the car hire firm finally got around to getting it fixed and charged me just under £14.  


Lourdes from the church. 


The miraculous grotto, where Bernadette had her visions of the virgin. Pinky is at the extreme left, queueing to go in.  


Snack break for the faithful at Lourdes. 


Tat-tastic at Lourdes.  


Pinky checks out the story of Bernadette at a Lourdes gift shop. 


People heading for the basilica. Lourdes is a model of wheelchair accessible town planning. 


The church at Lourdes. 


Biarritz. We have breakfast with Lakme, the French bulldog, who has her own seat at the cafe. 


The seafront at Biarritz. It looks chilly but it wasn't, it was balmy.  


Biarritz is a surfer town. 


I loved Biarritz, I'd like to go back there for a week. Beautiful coastline, nice ambience. 


The little cove around the corner from the main beach. Yes, people were swimming in the sea in October.  


Pinky and Puppy at the Guggenheim, Bilbao. How we got there and back is a long story - see the next post. Bilbao is in another country.  


Inside the Guggenheim. What a fantastic building. 


A holographic cube outside the gallery. 


The Guggenheim, Bilbao. 


The coast between Biarritz and Bordeaux. Two guys are kite-surfing. 


We ride the Belle Epoque bus in Bordeaux. A great city. 


The Belle Epoque bus, Bordeaux. 


After Bordeaux, Paris. After Paris, Oxford. It was raining. 


Blenheim Palace. 


A little train! Blenheim was fun. 


"Take a picture of me cooking on an Aga!" said Pinky. So I did. Our first B&B. 


This is for Pinky's friend of the same name. 


Our Oxford walking tour was conducted by scatty Ursula, from Chermany. "Vell, that's a werry goot qvestion, and I vill answer it in a few minutes..."  


Sisters reunited in Oxford. 


Stuffing our faces with an excellent meal at the Loch Fyne Restaurant in Henley on Thames. Thanks very much, Mum! 

biarritzy

We're having a bit of a breather in Biarritz, right near the border with Spain. We were going to drive to San Sebastian and stay there, but were put off by the thought of driving - we had a couple of days of long-distance driving & found it quite tiring. So, tomorrow we're going to Bilbao on the train. We had planned to go to San Sebastian today, but by the time we'd had breakfast (at a terrace cafe by the beach), found the railway station and made our way there by bus it was getting on; and then the next train wasn't for another three hours! You have to get the French train to the border, then change to a Spanish train. In the end we weren't going to get there until nearly 4pm. So instead we're doing laundry and internetting and generally lounging around.

Yesterday we went to Lourdes -- what a bizarre place. Fascinating to see so many faithful there, all looking for a miracle. The church etc is very beautiful and impressive, and the town has the most souvenir shops I've ever see anywhere.

We loved the Dordogne, it's lovely -- winding rivers, cliffs pocked with caves, lush valleys. We visited Lascaux II, a copy of the famous Lascaux caves, now closed because of damage to the paintings from tourists' breath. My favourite though was the Grotte de Font de Gaume, which has the most breathtaking paintings of bison. We also went to the Museum of Prehistory, which was excellent.

OK, I'd better go and relieve Pinky at the laundrimat.

:: zut alors

Doesn't time fly, etc. Here we are on our last day in Paris, already! Well, not quite our last - we come back for one night before flying to London.

The undoubted highlight was the Segway tour: man that was so much fun! It's a machine designed to make you look like a pure dork, but in fact they are great to ride. To go forward you just lean forward - and suddenly you're gliding along with a very quiet hum. Lean back and you stop, and then go backwards. Twist the little control and you spin round on the spot.

There were nine of us on the tour, I think, plus the two guides. First we did some training, then we headed off down the street. Not only was it cool fun riding the things, but it was lots of fun watching people's reactions. Mostly it was gob-smacked amazement, amusement and envy: what is that thing? Where can I get one? There was a little bit of scorn, but not much, considering what idiots we looked. Pinky and I were great at marketing the Segway, passing out brochures and urging everyone to take a tour.

The guides were a hoot too: the firm that does the tours is based in Texas, and most of its employees are young Texan dudes. (There was a bumper sticker in the office saying "Texas is bigger than France".) I say "dudes" because they all talked exactly like Bob and Ted, and their sense of history was pretty Bob and Ted too. The French Revolution was like, awesome? They like, cut the king's head totally off? Right here where we're standing? They were such cute guides though. Explaining that the Louvre was originally a fort built to protect the city against the Vikings, Daniela said: "Before I came here I didn't even realise the Vikings like, actually existed? But they did, and they were like, totally hassling the Pareeshuns?" Dude.

We've also been to the Pere Lachaise cemetary (where I fell over and cut my hand, wah!), Sacre Coeure and Montmartre, Musee d'Orsay (pinky), Arc de Triomphe (me) and have eaten huge quantities of excellent french bread and cheese, and plenty of cakes. Pinky has bought TWO handbags, really classy ones.

We're off to Bordeaux on the train tomorrow, then heading out into the French countryside in a hired voiture. We may or may not go to Spain; we'll see how we feel. Then back to Paris on 10 October and to London on the 11th.

It's been lovely having this flat, we will really miss it. It's on Rue de Seine in St Germaine des Pres, quite a snooty and artistic area - lots of galleries and chic shops - but also interesting and quirky.

:: bye-bye, ozzy

He's gone! Hurrah. Bertie is mightily relieved and has allowed his previously immaculately good behaviour to slip back to pre-Ozzy levels. I don't care, I'm happy to be able to sleep all night for a change.

Here are some cute photos of the pair of them:


I have no idea how much either of them ate during the week, because they kept eating each other's food. I put Bertie's dishes up on a box, but Ozzy didn't find that much of a challenge.


They look similar in size in that shot, but this one shows the difference better: Ozzy can walk underneath Bertie without touching. This was taken on a walk at Blackness (Blackness Castle is in the background).


Ozzy is much smarter than Bertie: he still set off down to the water for a drink, but quickly turned back when he found the seaweed was all slippery and nasty-smelling.

:: double trouble

Memo to self: Don't even think about getting another dog. One is plenty.

Actually Ozzy's been pretty good: he sleeps late and hasn't barked too much. But every expedition is fraught with complications: try keeping two excited dogs calm while you're trying to pick up poo! Also there's a problem at feeding time. Ozzy prefers Bertie's food and Bertie prefers Ozzy's, so we have a wee terrier eating out of a giant bowl and a big greyhound stooping to empty a tiny saucer. Today Ozzy brazenly stole Bertie's treasured Jumbone literally from under his nose: he nipped in and snatched it away. Bertie just looked glum, he didn't even growl, bless him.

One night we had high drama: as a treat on the late-night walk, I let Bertie off the lead in the big field under the bridge. Fine. But then I fumbled Ozzy's lead and dropped it. And he vanished. Trailing the big plastic lead reel. Aieee! Bertie's easy to see at night, being large and white. But Ozzy's small and dark, invisible at night. It was half an hour and much calling and whistling before I heard a little whimper from the thicket. I had to crawl under hawthorns and through brambles to reach him, and then untangle the lead. All doubled over, in the pitch dark. I was terrified I'd lost him - imagine that.

More dog news: I found Bertie's entry on the greyhound data website. He came second in two races! Awwww. And then second last, and finally - last. Oops.

Work's very busy, as per usual. I can't wait for my holidays! It'll be great to get away.

:: countdown

Only a couple of weeks to go before I'm on holiday! Wheee!

Tomorrow I collect Oz, who's staying with me for a week while his people are on holiday. I'm slightly nervous about what he and Bertie might get up to while I'm at work. Bertie just sleeps the whole time I'm away, but Oz is a busy little chap. Hmm.

:: Fizzling

Every now and then I go through a patch where Things Break Down. I've been in such a patch for a while now. First there was the car -- new ignition, new starter motor, and not too long after I'd spent a few hundred pounds getting it through its MoT (WoF). Then there's the garden tap -- sudden total failure of the washer, something I must get seen to before I go on holiday (in case there's an early frost and a repeat of the Great Flood of 2000/2001).

In the study things are not going well either. My printer's ink tank ran dry not long after being installed. Reconditioned and bought on the cheap, a classic case of false economy. I got a new one by mail order. The firm sent the wrong one. Cue long battle to get a replacement. Eventually it transpired that they're out of stock. Sigh. Cue long battle to get my money back.

Meanwhile, I succumbed to temptation and bought a portable digital radio. It arrived quickly, it was fabulous! One slight problem -- the volume went up to maximum at random. Alarming with earphones and probably dangerous. Cue long battle to get replacement. Eventually it transpired that they're out of stock. Sigh. Cue long battle to get my money back.

Now it's my computer. I bought a new printer -- which is fabulous and more importantly works -- but for some mysterious reason my computer now "hangs" during bootup for five minutes or more. It goes all right once it's booted, but something's wrong somewhere.

In other news, I've just had four days off in a row. Very relaxing and enjoyable. Yesterday the weather was stunning so I threw Bertie in the car and drove to Tentsmuir Forest. Lots of people were there walking and picnicking and sunbathing (no-one was swimming -- it's the North Sea, after all!) but it's such a big area it didn't feel crowded at all.

Back to work today. I also have a meeting with the boss to talk about my pay rise. Wish me luck!

:: picture show

A great year for raspberries; the garlic and gooseberries weren't bad either.


Not raspberry jam (though I did make two batches from my own fruit), it's blackcurrant, using fruit from Chad's allotment. Yum.


Pic from the day Faye and I walked along the canal path from Ratho.





These are from the day Bertie got thirsty down at the marina and thought "Well there's all that water down there..." It's a steep seawall, slippery with seaweed, and I was terrified he was going to break a leg. Or drown. He thought the floating seaweed was solid ground and kept trying to climb on to it. Oh, and the water tasted funny, apparently.


Also a bumper year for wasps. This hole is on a path at Blackness.



The grand parade on Ferry Fair Saturday. Bertie stuck it out for the pipe band and one brass band, which is not bad going for him.


The weather has been ridiculously bad -- this was also during Ferry Fair week. That's a fun fair down there, next to the historic Forth Bridge! Tourists still flocked to stare at the visible bits of bridge and listen to the trains rumble over. Poor devils.


Great year for mushrooms. I picked some little puffballs recently and had them for lunch. Not bad, though not very mushroomy.


Furniture turns up in the oddest places.

:: rain rain

It's been raining and miserable for what seems like weeks -- culminating in a mudslide that blocked the main road north for more than a day -- but finally there are signs of a change. This afternoon the sun came out, hurrah! The garden's a jungle, so that's a priority for tomorrow (ie later today; it's just gone midnight), but it's also Ferry Fair day, with a parade, the crowning of the queen and a re-enactment of Queen Margaret's trip across the firth, so I'll have to make an effort and get up early.

Work is going to be all-consuming for a while: I should be off on Sunday and Monday as well, but I'll be working. I'm taking Wednesday off, I think. However, the good news is that I'm getting a promotion, and hopefully a decent pay rise to go with it.

I need a slight cash boost at the moment too: the car broke down on Sunday and it cost £230 for a new ignition and starter motor. On my way to work I noticed the electrics weren't working, and once I got there it wouldn't start again. The breakdown service towed me back home at the end of my shift, and I was a few very rainy days without wheels, including my day off. It would be nice to replace it with a newer car, but with all my extravagant travel plans that's not really on the cards.

I'd better get back to my work. I'll post a few pics tomorrow. Honest!

:: no lights

My car has thrown a wobbly, and I suspect it may be down to the haar. Driving in to work this afternoon I quickly noticed that the electrics weren't working. No indicators, no radio. Alarmingly, when I put my foot on the brakes, the battery warming lamp comes on and the petrol guage suddenly drops to zero! I stopped at the nearest petrol station and checked the water and oil, topped them both up, and drove on. I was running late and I'd left my phone at home - stoopid or what.

I managed to get to work in one piece - though there was a heart-pounding moment at some traffic lights when I realised that the terrible racket I could hear was coming from my car. I thought I'd better pull over and investigate, but I barely touched the key in the ignition and the noise stopped. On reflection it was the same kind of racket you get if you accidentally turn the key when the engine's running, which leads me to suspect some kind of electrical shorting-out. Hence my suspicion of the fog, which has been particularly thick over the past couple of days. This afternoon it was also windy.

If there are still no electrics when it's time to leave for home at 1am I'll call the Green Flag man and get him to sort it. Can't drive home without the radio!!

The fog is amazing. Yesterday and today both the bridges were completely invisible. The poor tourists still flocked to look at them -- they ended up listening to trains rumbling overhead. All you could see was the bit of pier behind the Hawes Inn.

:: now what'll I watch?

Big Brother is over, wah! Nadia the Portuguese transsexual won, Oh my GAAAHD! as she said several million times. I've been very brave and come out as a BB fan at work. Everyone here is extremely sniffy about it -- but then they don't watch it, so what would they know?

I love The Onion so much: it never fails to make me laugh.

Back in real life, the weather's been rubbish, muggy and misty. The fog does offer spectacular visual effects on the river: one night all you could see of the Forth Bridge were the floodlit piers; the whole upper structure was just airbrushed out.
There has also been a lot of very heavy rain, so the lawn is growing rank and lanky again, and the weeds are prospering. Almost all the fruit is finished. There are still blackcurrants ripening, but I'm leaving those for the birds. There aren't enough for jam -- I went to a friend's allotment last week and picked enough for ten jars, yum. I wish I'd made more raspberry jam, it really is delicious, and very easy to make.

Planning for Pinky's trip is advancing: it's very exciting when it gets down to choosing what kind of car to hire and looking at hotel websites. I want to leave as much flexibility as possible so we can respond to local conditions etc, but you can get good bargains on the internet. I've got some guidebooks too.

Time I did some work.

:: bertie goes awol

On today's walk I was distracted by Taffy's long-winded dissertation on how he could manage to insulate his static caravan, and Bertie took the opportunity to have another go at finding the black and white cat that lives up The Forbidden Path. There's a gate at the top of the path, but there's also a gap at the side of the gate just wide enough for a skinny greyhound to slither through.

Once I'd whistled and yelled long enough I stumped off up the path myself in pursuit. Through the gate is a little private lane for a row of railway cottages. At the gate of one of the cottages was a woman I'd met before. "Are you looking for Bertie?" she asked. "He's out the back. Just come on through my house."

So, carrying my bulging black binbag and litter-picker (it was a working walk), I walked through the back door, down the passage, through the livingroom, greeting the grandchildren as I went, out the front door, across the garden (large rabbit looking nervously out from hutch) and out the front gate. No sign of Bertie.

I called and whistled and yelled and he hove into view. But then he caught more cat-scent and was off down someone else's garden path. More yelling later and I finally had him collared. So that's another section of the walk where he has to be leashed now.

I've been very busy lately, doing all kinds of dull and domestic things, and a few more interesting things. Which I may write about later on. Right now I'm off home.

:: I am still alive

I just haven't had time to write anything -- it's all I can do to keep up with emailing.

Faye's been here for nearly two weeks, in between jobs. She whizzed up to Arran for a couple of days -- it's a great place to visit, with really varied scenery, and not far to drive.

I still don't have time to write much! But I will make an effort over the next few days.

:: bookings

Last night I got busy with planning the great expedition of Sept-Oct 2004: Edinburgh to Paris to Bordeaux to Biarritz to San Sebastian to Bilbao and back again, via London. The plan is for me to fly from Edinburgh to Paris, where we stay for a few days. Then we get the train to Bordeaux. We collect a hire car there, and after exploring the area for a few days, drive to Biarritz. Then we move on to San Sebastian at some point, and make it our base for explorations & expeditions. Then back to Bordeaux, train back to Paris and ...

This is where it gets slightly tricky. The plan after that is to go to London/Oxford for a few days. So I thought, ok, I'll book Pinky a return on the train; I'll get a single flight from Edinburgh-Paris and get the train back to Edinburgh from London. Or whatever.

It turns out that while flying Edinburgh-Paris-London-Edinburgh (with a stay in London) will cost £266.20 (including taxes), flying one-way from Edinburgh to Paris will be £476.20 (including taxes). Yes, that's £201 just to avoid flying from Paris to London to Edinburgh. This sort of thing drives me into a Colonel Blimp-like frenzy of harrumphing: "Stuff and nonsense! How dare they!" etc. I remember something similar for train fares.

Which brings me to the next thing: I can't book any train tickets. Not the ScotRail sleeper, not GNER, not Eurostar, nothing. It's too soon. I'm being too impatient. Hold your horses, they cry, it's only July! September is months away yet.

So I haven't booked anything yet.

Tonight I might have a go at booking my flight to NZ next year.

:: foiled!

On Friday night, Bertie had a brilliant idea. Like most of his ideas, however, it contained a flaw.

The problem was how to get home with a hedgehog in his mouth. You could nearly hear the wheels turning as he stood there trying to work it out. He wanted to go home. But if he got anywhere near me I'd take the hedgehog off him. Ah ha! He'd go home alone. He sped past me and ran down the street -- just about the naughtiest thing he's done in a long while. He was so pleased with himself! "Ha ha! It worked! I'm home, and I still have the hedgehog!"

But here comes the flaw. He hadn't worked out how to get into the house. As he stood at the front door waiting to be let in I clipped on the lead, knocked the hedgehog out of his mouth with my foot and dragged him inside.

Damn! Damn damn damn!

The weather's still pretty awful. I went for a walk in the Pentland Hills today & got drizzled on. It's quite chilly too.

I have a new hobby: litter-picking. The woman who started the Cleanferry campaign dropped off my litter-picker the other day, and I've had a couple of sessions clearing up rubbish. It's astonishing how much there is, once you start picking it up.