The Perpetual Expatriate - Jumping into the deep end in new countries

Getting the shot but missing the moment

2011-07-12T13:47:00.001-07:00

Long after Kate and William tied the knot back in April, I'm finally getting round to posting the photos I took of the big day. It truly was a great one. We went to London to experience it all, the atmosphere, the bonhomie in the crowd, the pomp, the pageantry, a city truly at its best. Lots of great memories. There was just one small fly in the ointment - 5 minutes before Kate appeared in all her finery, my camera broke. In a really stupid move (my fault), I knocked it off the wall that I had stragically placed myself since 07:00 that morning. A position chosen to get great shots of it all. I obviously looked like I was on the verge of getting very upset, because daughter nuber one turned round to me ( in a key bit of role reversal ) and said;"Mum don't fuss, don't let it spoil the day, just enjoy it, the images will always be in your head". She was right, they still are. Later on she also "Mum if your camera hadn't broken it would have been a diferent day, you would have been too bothered about the shot and you would have missed the moment".

Wise words indeed. However there are two images I really wish I could have captured.
The first is after the wedding itself, the procession had finished, Kate and William had kissed, and gone back into Buck house. The crowd had started to wend their way home and we walked back towards the tube but to avoid the crowds we snuck down a side street near Whitehall. There was a mobile catering van, catering to all the policemen, hundred of them, bobbies having a cup of tea, dunking biscuits, looking visibly relaxed, many with helmets off, jackets loosened, everything had gone without a hitch,they could relax. A perfect shot, a great image of the day and of Britain (albeit a tad clichéd) and a photo that I don't think anyone else would have got.

The second missed photo opportunity was a group of very drunken "brides"- girls, all in "veils", all worse for wear, all squashed into a bright red phone box, and behind them, Big Ben towering over them. Oh well. Daughter was right, the images are still in my head which of course is the most important.

The pics below are the few I did get in the early hours before the day really got going.

Calvinistic, reserved, prissy Swiss?

2011-03-30T14:47:00.000-07:00

Yeah right... Spotted - this shop window in Interlaken.. Just in case you need a final high before er.. going even higher?

Celtic Connections - what they don't tell you

2011-01-28T13:10:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. I was supposed to catch at least a night and a whole day of music at Celtic Connections, but in the end it turned out to be just a few hours. A combination of changed flights and plans of colleagues, and me needing to return to Edinburgh the same night, meant that out of the 18 day -300 event extrvanganza, I got to experience barely 4 hours of the music festival, and these were all on my own.

It didn't matter.

The tagline to Celtic Connections is "Scotland's premier music festival, best new talent, big names etc", but what they don't tell you is how FRIENDLY the festival is. I guess it shouldn't have come as a great surprise, after all, most of my good and closest friends are from Scotland or the North of England, but after 10 years of living in lovely (but let's face it), a rather reserved Calvinistic Switzerland, you tend to forget.

You forget that in Scotland people will start to talk to you when you are in a queue (this was in the queue for the Danny Kyle's Open Stage). A woman (she told me her name but I've forgotten - sorry) and her daughter chatted to me about all sorts of stuff, then their friends came (wine in hand) and joined the queue and chatted some more.

It was the same again inside the hall before the acts came on, spontaneous conversation and blether. No matter that I was on my tod. There was such a good atmosphere of bonhomie and fun in the hall that night, it was infectious. The music of course an added bonus. My favourite group over the session? The newly formed band "The Ribbon Men" from Dublin. A good crack with the audience and into some great foot tapping stuff. You can catch a bit of their music and the atmosphere here.

Then moving on through the Glasgow Concert hall, past stallholders selling fiddles, mandolins, and more friendly chat, it was on to the Old Fruit Market. Full disclosure on this, one of the reasons I made a detour here was to see how one of my favourite bands Mama Rosin would go down in Scotland. It's not easy to sell the concept of a Cajun/Blues/ Zydeco combo played by guys from Switzerland. But they went down a storm as I knew they would. I've been singing their praises for a few years, since I very first saw them playing in the town that I live in see here and here.

What a fabulous venue the Old Fruitmarket is, full of history and atmosphere - the evening made all the more enjoyable in the company of Janice and Stuart, a delightful couple that I bumped into on the night - both Celtic Connections fans and stalwarts. We talked skiing, music, travelling and all sorts of stuff.

Pic below - apologies for the very poor quality. I didn't take my SLR to Ecosse this time, (just too heavy along with the laptop) and I had to make do with using a cheap phone. I am hunting around for a decent small camera that will be good in low light for occasions like these.

Mama Rosin at Celtic Connections.

This wee taster, these four hours of Celtic Connections was enough to convince me that I will definitely go back next year and for much longer and hopfeully with friends. You know what? If they can't make it and I end up being on my own again, I know it won't matter.

Should anyone get the impression that I'm dissing Switzerland in the above couple of paras, I'm not, there is something really comforting about flying home and looking out of the plane and seeing the Alps and Lac Léman glimmering below and you know that you are not far from "home".

Talking of home, just a week before I went to Scotland, I went down to the Parenthèse, a small cavernous music venue in Nyon and caught the set of Alvin Zealot, a band from Lucerne. With a charismatic lead singer, (all of the guys in the band are good looking) and some great tracks on their album "Tears of St Lawrence" I predict that this is another Swiss band that is going to go far.

Some say they sound like the Killers, other say Arcade Fire, take a listen to a melange of their work on the pop up MP3 link on their site. "Timeline and Glasses", "Bricks over Bricks", "The Dust and his Massive Chaos", "When Flood Crosses Light"- all good stuff. They have won a DR3 best talent award too. Watch this space.

Alvin Zealot below sorry - poor quality pic again.

Footnote: They don't tell you that Celtic Connections is extraordinarily friendly but they don't tell you either that the prices of the drinks in the Old Fruit Market are stratospheric - nearly *£5 for a glass of wine and served in a horrible plastic beaker. When I asked the bar tender why, (when there were proper wine glasses on the shelves behind him), he said it "sorry but it was their policy" What? Now that wouldn't happen here in Suisse. Wine is meant to be drink out of a glass - sans aucun doute.

* Have I been away from Britain for too long, is this the normal price of a drink in a bar today?

Zero inbox Zero inbox ! Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T09:33:00.000-08:00

Yippee! I have been determined to get my email inbox down to zero and I've done it a few hours before the new year kicks in. It's meant burning lots of midnight oil but I've done it! The first time in ages......nay years, I kid you not.

I wonder how long it will be before I get that first new email......

Just got to start tackling over 18,000 photos now.....

The photo above is one I've used over on Living in Nyon but the message is the same to all readers. Happy New Year!

The Glacier Dance - Or How to prevent Frostbite

2010-12-28T13:04:00.000-08:00

I'm clearing emails, trying to get an empty intray (a literal and online one) before the end of the year). I had forgotten I had this wee vid snuck in amongst the other correspondence. It was sent by Margot, a friend of mine from North Berwick from when her son (Keith Robertson) went to Patagonia.
It's called Bailar de Glaciar - "The Glacier Dance"* It made me smile when I first saw it and it still does. It brings back happy memories from when we used to live in South America and I imagine it brings happy memories for those who made the vid. Check out the scenery and those Andes!

*The film was based on an exercise they were taught on how to prevent frostbite.

I've been saying for ages that the written word on printed paper will never die out.....

2010-12-26T04:58:00.000-08:00

And then..

we get to Christmas day in the Pollard household. Jamie Oliver, Delia Smith, Katie Stewart Times Cook book. Marguerite Pattern, Good Housekeeping -Christmas Issue and countless other cookery books amongst the shelves and what does husband turn to for a turkey stuffing recipe? The ipad.

I must admit though, the stuffing was absolutely superb (recipe from the BBC website).

Not much sunbathing at the moment...

2010-12-19T13:28:00.000-08:00

The pic says it all........

My favourite spot on the balcony today - Sunday 19th December 2010

Love those Lights!

2010-12-05T09:48:00.001-08:00

The snow has come down thick and fast in Nyon, and winter is definitely here (see Living in Nyon) and with it, the lights and loveliness of the Christmas season.

Over the past few weeks I have been very lucky and have seen a variety of Christmas lights in different cities.

Firstly there was Madrid last week. We were there as a surprise to celebrate a big birthday of someone in the family (Madrid had just switched the lights on the day we arrived). I arranged a lot of surprises that day for the birthday boy, but this one was nothing to do with me and an extra bonus.

Then on Friday I went to the opera (the first time ever!) to see "An Italian in Algiers" at the Metropole in Lausanne (Switzerland). In between rushing to the venue and the railway station I saw these lights and got a photo of them (mobile phone quality I'm afraid).

Then on Saturday we went to see a panto in Geneva (oh yes we did) and I took this as we emerged from the theatre. For some bizarre reason there are two cathedrals in this photo. I can assure you there is only one in reality, but I kinda like the way it turned out.

I also went to see Paul Merton and his Impro chums in Geneva on Thursday night, I didn't take any photos of lights on that night but it was so, so, so funny, it certainly lit up my week.

Mama Rosin - good luck on "later" with Jools Holland.. but .....

2010-09-27T02:52:00.000-07:00

Mama Rosin - Paléo July 2010

I've been following the Swiss band Mama Rosin for a few years now. I first went to one of their concerts (a small intimate one) in the 1306 club in Nyon back in 2008.

A younger Mama Rosin (with less hair) at the 1306 Club - Nyon 2008

I saw them in the squashed, small and hot but great little venue Le Chat Noir in Geneva earlier this year.

I saw the crowd go wild when they performed at bigger outside festivals such as Paléo and Caribana. I even spotted them (by default) busking on Christmas Eve on the Rue du Rhone in Geneva. I know how much enthusiasm and hard work they put into their live acts. When they perform, their energy is infectious and almost everyone in the crowd ends up dancing, you can always be sure of a grand night out.

I've also written about them see "two bands to watch out for").

Usine a Gaz -25 September 2010

Then last Friday they played at the Usine a Gaz in Nyon and one of the band members announced after the concert that they are scheduled to record on "Later" with Jools" on the BBC this very week. My instinctive reaction was "yes! they deserve it, great news", (by the way I don't know these guys personally at all so there is no bias on my part).

but on the other hand.... there is that slightly nagging feeling that because of this new development, maybe the small intimate venues will disappear, and fame and stardom will take them away from their Swiss roots.

I may be wrong of course, Mama Rosin are very good, but who knows, maybe there is a limited audience for their kind of music (even I wasn't sure about Cajun/ Blues/ Rock/ Zydeco combo until I went to one of their first gigs). But recently, I have seen more reviews of them in the Anglophone press, see this one by Howard Male on the Arts Desk site. So the momentum seems to be picking up and they also seem to have acquired more fans after they performed at the Cambridge folk festival this year. So I have hunch they are going to go far.

Whatever happens after this week, I do hope that these boys from Geneva embrace any kind of fame that comes their way but they will still continue to play here in Switzerland and we can still get to the chance see them from time to time in the kind of venues that suit them best, raw, intimate and fun and bloody good. Just like their music.

On verra...

Here's a clip below of them singing "Le Pistolet". It doesn't show them in concert, and they now have a different drummer and this really is more of a fun thing, but I guess once a bit more money comes their way they will get more vids professionally produced.

Where did the last five months go?

2010-07-28T14:33:00.000-07:00

You would be forgiven for thinking I've fallen off the edge of the planet for the past five months. Either that or there has been nothing much to report.

Well, I haven't fallen off the edge of anything and apart from a short trip to Berwick, I haven't been anywhere. As for nothing much to report nothing could be further from the truth. Nope, it's been one of the busiest few months in a long time.

First of all in May the programme I presented on WRS called "Expat life" was changed from a short five min piece on Conor Lennon's show to a full half hour programme called "The Connectors" with me hosting the whole shabang and a team of great contributors. Now that has been great fun with auditions, new website, content and a million other details to kick off this new show. It's been up and running now for a few months and we are taking a break for summer and all is looking good for the upcoming Autumn's shows.

Back in May, husband was rushed to hospital with a twisted intestine. All's well that ends well but all a bit of a worry at the time. Then number one daughter re appeared after a gap year touring Australia and South America. She blogged about it too and is a far better writer than I will ever be. Shame she hasn't concluded the blog now that she has got back.

Then there has been the usual deadlines to meet, column in local newspaper, editing the Romandie section of Hello CH, local council meetings, more meetings and then recently I have just been working with a local designer to help me switch my Living in Nyon blog from Blogger to Wordpress. Gosh I hadn't realised how much work this would be and how much information I had put on the site over the years.... I've still to catgorise the posts under the section "uncategorised" but we are getting there. Check it out

I'm also working on a Living in Nyon project which is probably going to take most of the summer and is probably a bit of a crazy thing to attempt right now but if I don't do it, I will regret it.

I know there has been lots of other stuff but its all been such a blur I bet I've missed something. Anyway normal service should be resumed on here now, well at least I hope so.. but don't hold your breath..

Missing the sea, James Gruntz and a few goldfish

2010-03-13T10:51:00.000-08:00

I love living here in Nyon, the lake is fabulous, the mountains are gorgeous, and the view of Mont Blanc on a clear day is nothing short of spectular and yet.....

I miss the sea, the smell of it the sound of it, the waves breaking on sand or pebbles, the wind, the seagulls. Everything really.

A couple of weeks ago World Radio Switzerland broadcast the evening programme live from a pub in central Basel. Conor Lennon, the host, did a cracking job amongst the smoke (still allowed over there until April 1st) and the noise. I went along there on the Tuesday just to do a short piece on the theme of Expat Life. It was fun and there were several live bands that performed on air that night. They were all good but I really, really liked the singer James Gruntz, especially when he sang "Song to the Sea" . Somehow I think Mr Gruntz and his band are going to go far, and if this wee song below isn't a summer hit for Switzerland then I don't know what is

You can find out a bit more about him on his website a lot of it is in German, sometimes the lyrics aren't in the most perfect English, but who cares? Like most Swiss, the English language is probably his second or third or even fourth language, so he certainly can be forgiven. "King Prawns on concrete 'aint something I need" .. wonderful

Amazing what you can do with a small budget, a few glass bowls, a ukele and a goldfish or two.

Song To The Sea from James Gruntz on Vimeo.

Earthquakes and Irony

2010-03-03T14:53:00.000-08:00

I don't think I want another weekend like the past one.

For the past six months our daughter has been travelling on a gap year through Australia and South America.

Through the media of mobile phone, Facebook and Skype we have been keeping up with her exploits. We heard about the enormous kangaroo outside her tent as she camped out in the bush in OZ. We sympathised as we listened to the ups and downs of trying to find a temporary job when she was trying to earn some cash to continue on with her trip.

D and I crossed fingers and toes that she would be OK as she went hangliding above Rio de Janeiro, paraglided above mountains and went whitewater rafting through rapids in Argentina.

Photo below: Daughter, tall and tanned and young and lovely and on Ipanema on the morning of her birthday just a few weeks ago

We listened with baited breath as we heard about her and her boyfriend being mobbed by transvestites at Carnival in Salvador, and we heard (after the event) about her falling badly off a horse in the north of Brazil.
We also heard about a thief taking her Raybans off her head while she was sunbathing and how the police got rough and the crowd got violent during a parade in Brazil.

So we thought, "at least when she gets to Chile, she will be safe". She is going to language school, staying in one place and there won't be as much to worry about. Until.

I get up on Saturday morning, made myself a cup of tea ,was looking forward to the weekend ahead and switched on the news. And heard about the 6th biggest earthquake ever recorded which had happened in the early hours of the night before in Chile.

The country our daughter had just arrived in, and on her own.

Needless to say, what followed was the most awful 24 hours that I never want to go through ever again.

Phones were down in Chile, power was off and there was no way of being able to contact her and to find out how she was.

Tears, worry, panic, frustration, you name it, every emotion under the sun and the reports coming through on CNN and the BBC were just frightening.

It was AWFUL.

And then the phone call finally came, "Mum it's me, You may have heard that there's been an earthquake here, I'm alright, I'm OK".

Of course what we experienced does not compare to those who did lose loved ones in the earthquake, and for those who still do not know any news. My heart goes out to them.

D is finding out all he can about the earthquake, listening on the internet radio to Chilean radio stations, reading reports on the net. We used to live in Chile and at one stage were due to live in Concepcion. Our daughter is back in Chile to discover her roots as she was born there.

As for me I can't listen to anything to do with it I'm still antsy about the effect of any aftershocks on the buildings over there, and (if you can believe this) when I was young and travelling the world, in 1979 I too was in a big earthquake, ( in Southern Italy - I lost several friends in it ) so this last weekend and the emotion of it all has brought it all back to me.

They say history often repeats itself, in our family's case it certainly has.

Back in 1979 it took five days before I could let my mum know I was safe. I never really understood what she went through at the time.

I do now

This ski cross is SO exciting

2010-02-21T13:31:00.000-08:00

Was going to write loads about all sorts of stuff, but have just got hooked tonight on the Ski Cross at the Olympics and as I'm typing this Switzerland have just WON!!!!!!

Wow this sport has everything, timing, technique, speed, blue skies and guys with nice big thighs......

Still open for business

2010-02-09T13:14:00.000-08:00

Blimey. Blink and a month goes by with out any news. But just like this boulangerie in Nyon, the perpet expat is still open for business, it's just that business has been very busy and I've been at the back of the shop beavering away.

So as there's been a lot going on in the last four weeks, where to start?

Here are a few recollections in no particular chronological order.

In January I organised a big event for the readers of my "Living in Nyon" site called "Swiss Politics for Dummies". Spent weeks, nay months worrying whether it would go smoothly, but it did, over 100 people came and there was a long waiting list for those who couldn't get in all went swimmingly well.

I was mightily relieved the following day. Was interviewed on local TV and did very peculiar things with my eyes on camera.

Tramped through a lot of snow

Build up to the Geneva Writers' Conference, in February, being amongst a great team and this year part of a panel on web writing. (Slight irony on this one as the posts on here are becoming so infrequent). The conference itself, where I laughed myself silly at Richard Scrimger's writing workshop, where the room listend agog to the story told by a literary agent of how she first wrote to a young Harvard law student after spotting an article he had written in a newspaper (New York Times?) and how she wrote to him and suggested he should write a book. That law student's name was Mr Barack Obama and how she then sold his book "Dreams of my Father". She is still his agent.

At the conference I chatted and met some wonderful people and heard some amazing readings and I received the most wonderful gift from a guest that stayed chez nous .

Tramped through some more snow

Finished assembling all the articles and photos for the Spring edition of "Hello Switzerland".

Started writing my weekly column for La Côte again.

Tramped through more snow and slush and sleet

Went to a fabulous company "end of year" dinner in the German speaking part of Switzerland, where the food was good, the company fun and the management truly semed to appreciate their staff and where the journey back on the coach was a hoot.

Photos above and below - Nyon in January

Got wet in loads of rain storms

Took a bit of a deep breath as I heard teenage's daughter's stories of hangliding and white water rafting in Argentina, and paragliding above Rio de Janeiro.

Walked and tramped through more snow

Once again had the best night ever at a Mama Rosin concert ( I LOVE seeing this band live) but I wish they would get themselves a decent blooming website. Their vid on the site portrays nothing of the sheer energy they have when performing and the talent that hey have.

Had lots of fun at a Christmas tree burning event in a nearby town (see post from Living in Nyon)

Went to a wonderful 50th birthday party, where an easel was produced and we all contributed to painting a portrait (admittedly rather a drunken one) of the birthday girl.

Had some good conversations with a friend in India (thank goodness for Skype)

Heard an fascinating but quite poignant interview on Desert Island Discs with Mary Portas

Read the most fabulous, fabulous book - "In another light by Andrew Greig". What a wonderful writer he is.

Tramped through more snow, but took quite a few photos around town when it stopped snowing.

There were a few downsides to the month, mainly insomnia and worry and tiredness and feeling really fed up of the cold and missing my daughter especially being away fron her on her birthday (the first time ever in 19 years), but thankfully the good stuff gets retained in the memory bank more than the bad.

Anyone know of a good cure for insomnia?

2010-01-17T11:32:00.000-08:00

The kind of insomnia that has you awake at 02:00 in the morning thinking of all the things you have to do, deadlines you have to meet and wondering how you are going to get through them all.

Don't tell me about warm baths with aromatherapy drops, don't tell me about warm milk before bedtime, don't tell me about how lots of exercise can make you physically dog tired you fall asleep the moment you head hits the pillow. Dont tell me about a few glasses of red wine before bedtime either (as if I need any encouragement). Tried them all. Including letting the mind wander to wonderful things. I have plenty of those thoughts including remembering the fab place we stayed in Bali and the massage to the sound of the tropical birds and flowing river below and the lovely colours of the massage oils and the soothing hands of the masseuse (above) Nope sorry, doesn't work.

I just know that when the dawn breaks and the first little red train goes past our apartment at around 06:00 a.m I will be awake to hear it and I will have been awake for HOURS and then consequently dead for the rest of the day.

Answers on a postcard please.

A good year for the roses and the wine and the writing

2009-12-25T04:39:00.000-08:00

I don't know whether it has been a good year for the roses at all as I 'aint no gardener, but I know that it has been a good one for the winemakers. At least it has been here in this part of Switzerland, one of the best for ages apparently. No doubt a few bottles of the stuff will be drunk chez nous when the wine is eventually released.

Workwise, it's been a goody for me. It has meant I've been chasing my tail a bit when all the deadlines have come at once, but it's been fun, editing, writing and broadcasting this year. It has also meant this blog got a bit neglected, sorry.

My last writing commission was great and if more come from that particular source then I will be very pleased. Until the thing is published though I'm keeping mum about it as I know that articles can be pulled at the last minute, so we'll wait and see.

On the home front it's also been an excellent year, a great trip to Lisbon, big birthday in August with a fabulous surprise birthday party, a big anniversary to celebrate, lots of laughs at the Edinburgh festival, a superb holiday in Novemberin Bali and Australia . There have been a few downs, mainly the awful gut wrenching feeling of daughter leaving home "empty nest" syndrome but as everyone had told me, it did get better although this is going to be a very funny Christmas without her here.

I was asking folk around Nyon how their 2009 had been, the taxi drivers have said it hasn't been good, but suprisingly the folk at the newspaper I write for, said that it hasn't been too bad, in fact they are faring better than most which is saying something considering how a lot of other media are suffering.

If this posts sounds rather smug, it's not meant to be, I am very conscious that this has been a tough year for many, the recession has bit and hit hard. But the thing that has made me really realise that us lot in this developed part of the world are so very lucky is when I read the latest post of my good friend Marina (who I miss a lot now she has moved to Delhi, thank goodness for Skype!) In her post she talks about the abandoned babies of Delhi. Read it here (from the 13th December). O gawd, how awful.

Of course I imagine this happens all over the world not just in India, but reading it though a friend's eyes makes it even more poignant.

Back in Switzerland, we are in the grips of winter with temperatures below freezing one day and lots of snow on the ground, to a prediction now of warmer weather on it's way with a foehn wind. So the snow down on the "plain" as they to call it will probably have melted by Christmas day. I'm glad we are not heading over to the UK at the moment as the flight delays, traffic chaos over there look just awful.

Its just nice to stay snug inside and have no further to wander than Nyon just three minutes away.

2 days later since I started this post above and now its Christmas day and the snow has indeed melted. Christmas Eve was spent in Geneva with a little bit of last minute shopping, spot Santa playing the trumpet on the main shopping street.Then lunch with friends at the Café du Centre, great fish and food as usual. A great way to begin the celebrations. The staff were busy shucking oysters ready for customers to collect them for their Christmas celebrations.

Then up to the cathedral in the Old town for the service of nine lesons and carols. The rain was teeming down when we all came out which meant there wasn't the usual greeting of friends on the steps of the cathedral afterwards, we just all dashed home. On the platform at the train station on the way home, I spotted this poster below. Its really some promotion for the post office, but of course I thought it was there just for me. A perfect early Christmas present.

So I'm now picking up this post today on Christmas day here in Switzerland. Duncan and I went a quick walk down to the lake, there were quite a few folk out and about and the boulangeries were open and full of customers buying their fresh baguettes and Christmas deliciacies. We are home now, have opened presents and I'm listening to Bowie's Hunky Dory which my sister gave me as a present and it takes me right back to teenage years listening to this on my record player in my Yorkshire attic bedroom. Purple walls candlewick bedspread and wondering what life would bring and where I would end up.

So glad that after all this time and living in many countries I've ended up in Switzerland.

Joyeux Noel.

Bali - Hot and humid but oh so very cool

2009-11-23T02:27:00.000-08:00

According to the Lonely Planet guide to Bali, they call the month of November "the suicide season" because it is so hot and humid. And it was, very hot, very humid (and for me migraine inducing) but even the pounding head and 83% humidity still couldn't take away the pleasure or beauty of the island.

I lived in Indonesia back in the early '80s but that was in Jakarta and although I did travel to some outlying small islands, I never actually got over to Bali.

It was everything I expected and more. There were also some things about the island that I hadn't expected. That was the sheer hipness /coolness of the place. Very chic restaurants and bars, there seemed to be at least two or three glossy expat magazines dedicated to what was happening, where was "in", where to go to drink, photos of glamorous folk at drinks parties, who had designed what, which villa was the latest talking point, who was in town. I hadn't exactly thought the island was still big one hippy enclave left over from the '60s althought there are still plenty around (photo below, yoga at 07:00 on the beach taught by a pony tailed teacher who definitely looked like a Bali veteran) but I was surprised at the level of modernity and chicness.

That chicness also brought criticism, some from the old timers who were aghast at the rampant development of hotels and minimalist villas springing up over the place with no thought to the Indonesian way of living. Lonely Planet also weighed in on this too quoting an architect who has watched the spread of villas with alarm "there's a small box for the maid and the driver doesnt even get a glass of water, these villas are aimed at people who'd go to Ibiza but come here for the cheap help" ... I also thought the noise from some of the night clubs spoilt some areas, who needs the pounding of club music across the beach when the sound of the pounding of the waves is much better ( do I sound like an old fart or what?)

Photos below. Offerings to the gods and surfboards for the surfers who were about to offer themselves up to the (strong) waves

Statues near the pool, Kitsch or what? However it was still a relaxing place to be.

Thank goodness that amongst all the modernism this is still an island full of tradition, an island where people prepare daily offerings at their family temple or lay them out on the beach oustide the hotel. Where the coconut trees are trimmed and scaled up by men to heights that take your breath away. Where people get up early to go to market, we did too ( I got some great shots but they hopefully are going into a travel article). It is still is an island full of festivities and dancing and tradition and wonderfully kind people. Where in each village there is an open sided "bale banjar" a community meeting place where local decisions are made.

There has been so much written about Bali its difficult to say anything new but it is an island of superlatives.

Stay for one night or one year...

Trimming the branches without a ladder

Trimming the trees in Seminyak this time with a ladder

I was only marginally disapointed in a couple of things, the sea at Seminyak was grey rather than blue, the sand was more dirty brown than white and the pavements in the town were just awful , gaps in the chasms that went deep, impossible to walk anywhere easily. But that's probably being too picky.

For 5 days we stayed in Seminyak at a good hotel on the beach, great breakfasts, beach side sunbeds, two pools, a great place to unwind. However, it's the second place we went to a bit further into the hills in Ubud which was simply wonderful probably the best place we have ever stayed in ever.

So good it warrants a post to itself .

Three countries and three weeks away makes ..

2009-11-22T02:42:00.000-08:00

arriving home seem so strange. One minute you are waking up in hot humid weather in a bed draped with mosquito nets to the sound of tropical frogs and Indonesian drums. Or you hear kookaburras and exotic birds as you and draw back the blinds to a bright Australian sun, then, 24 hours later you wake up to the sound of crows cawing and open the curtains to a European dark winter thick in deep fog.

International travel is so wonderful and yet so unsettling. It's always good to get home after being away, but those first few days of adjustment are bizarre, the jet lag that has you waking up at unearthly hours of the day raring to go at 06:00 am and then fading fast by 6:00p.m. Still its usually all worth it, and this trip deifinitely was. Even the tiny little insect bites from the tropics that are all over my arms and have left have their mark. These are hopefully only temporary mementoes, whereas the memories of another fantastic holiday will remain permament. So where do I start? I uploaded over 600 photos yesterday and wrote quite a few notes during the three weeks away, there's so much to recall.

I'll start at the beginning. Singapore.

The reason for stopping in here on route to Australia was a) because we flew with Singapore Airlines (still superlative on board service) and b) because I just can't handle the "long" part in long haul anymore. After fainting and bringing the whole plane to a screeching halt when taxing down the runway in Syria last year, I didn't want to risk not feeling great on a long flight, so the sensible thing was to break the journey.

So we arrived in Singapore to the sight of snowmen all up and down Orchard Road. Incongrous somewhat in high temperatures but they were putting out all the stops to create a fabulous Christmas display, thousands of lights and displays all in time for the big APEC meeting the following week and no doubt to impress Mr Obama and all the other high level delegates.

As ever, Singapore was clean and effiicient. It's also one big construction site. The money and the companies are all here along with what seems like a massive property building boom. Recession what recession? Retail stores galore with all the big household names from Borders Books to Marks and Spencers, to designers names, you could have been in any British or American shopping centre.

Spot the non Prada bag wearer.

Snowmen and the tropics

Except, even though there are many similarities it's the small things that make the differences between countries. For example, entering the Singapore metro there are thin, slim plastic bags all freely available to put your umbrella in so it doesn't drip onto the immaculate platforms.

Plus there is NO EATING or drinking allowed on the metro/tube itself, with a hefty fine if you do. It's an excellent idea in a way, but I can't see it catching on in the UK or the USA. Depriving a Brit or an American from a fast food fix for even 20 minutes wouldn't go down too well. Still it keeps the tube immaculate and wonderfully junk food smell free (although I think plain water for drinking should be allowed in such heat.)

Talking of heat, it is so hot the office workers, walk around between buildings using umbrellas to keep the rays of the sun off them, it seemed bizarre at first but I ended doing this myself later on in Bali.

What Singapore also has is the most fantastic National public library , 24 hour book drop, email reminders if a book is overdue, all in a most wonderful massive spanking new building.

Of course we just had to go to Raffles for a drink (but didn't have a Singapore sling), the great and the good were there some heading off towards a cocktail party, others heading off to the long bar for a beer.

We also went to the Arab quarter and saw the quirky bohemian shops in what is left of the old buildings in the city. One of these was called the blog shop....

We saw the school children in their smart uniforms

We ate chicken with ginger a speciality that the poor Samsui women building workers only managed to eat once a month. We traipsed round all the electronic shops trying to find a Flip (suprisingly with no luck)

Thanks Soh Koon for showing us round, a great 24 hour pit stop before moving on to

Bali.

Blogging, Julia Child, and Bali

2009-11-07T07:08:00.000-08:00

An eclectic mix I admit but...and apolgies for typos, am working on an Indonesian keyboard
Went to see the film "Julie and Julia" a couple of weeks ago. It will ring bells for expats and bloggers alike . "Where is home?" ask Julia as she and her husband move on to another posting in Oslo.

"What do I do now she asks?" on the first day her husband goes off to work leaving her to fend for herself in a new country.

Delight when Julie gets her first comment on her first post on her first blog (even though it is from her mother)

Am in Bali at the moment. What an island of contrasts. Lovely people, fabulous food, palm trees, it,s the got the lot. It also has lots of feral dogs on the beaches, rampant dangerous potholes in the streets, tight security and a humidity at this time of year that makes one go a little crazy and headachey. Not that I'm complaining..
Everyone is talking about the heavyhandedness of Julia Roberts' security guards though. The big star is here on the island filming "Eat Pray, Love" and there has been a bit of a to do over it all and how a tourist who took a photo of the filming got their camera confiscated. Not much "praying or love" with the Hollywood set then....

Art for art's sake or just leering?

2009-10-13T06:22:00.000-07:00

Update on daughter. She phoned from AUSTRALIA on her MOBILE for the ingredients to a recipe, and asked me to phone her back -The most expensive recipe ever, perchance?

Meanwhile D and I had another "cultural day away" to see a heap load of art at the Hermitage Art museum in Lausanne. It's one of my favourite art galleries, stuck in the middle of glorious parkland. I especially liked the one by Félix Vallotton, of the writer Félix Feneon.

He's hunched over his writing, it's obviously in the wee hours of the night, a 19th century version of us lot today hunched over our laptops, and (if you are like me) usually very late at night too.
I then went and looked at a book about Vallotton in the museum shop afterwards to see what else he had done. Loads apparently, including stylish designs, very elegant indeed.

Yet... when I see hundreds of paintings by one man of women in the nude, women draped over beds, getting out baths, etc I always wonder. Is this an artist who appreciated the female form, who like other artists at the time was experimenting with his art, blah de blah or was he quite simply a bit of a dirty old man who used his art to entice women to in his studio to see them with their kit off?

Here's what the Vallotton foundation website says about him "Secret et passionné, réfléchi et sensuel, misanthrope et séducteur". Judge for yourself. Maybe I'm just a heathen who knows nothing.

The museum's present exhibition is called from "Cezanne to Rothko - Passions Shared" and has the works of many great artists on display, all under one one roof and all from Swiss private collections. I wonder who these owners are and where they hang these great works. Is there somebody in my town who owns one? If so, are they true art lovers who look at these paintings every day, admire and appreciate them? Or are they Russian oligarchs who buy art as an investment and they don't really care? Are these paintings simply hidden away in bank vaults? Do the visitors to the houses where these paintings are, recognise that a work of a famous artist is hung up on the wall ? Does it matter if they don't?

I remember a story that someone told about Jeffrey Archer (before his fall from grace) Apparently at Archer's London penthouse parties, if anyone asked where the loo was, he would say "Down the corridor, turn right at the Picasso and left at the Warhol" (or something like that) Jeffrey obviously wanted everyone to know what he owned.

There was a Warhol at the Hermitage too,which I liked. (I then had a sudden urge to go home and play Bowie's track that has the words "Andy Warhol looks a scream, hang him on your wall")

but there was also a load of other tosh by other artists, a few daubs on a piece of canvas with the the most pretentious twaddle written below them.

But then as I said before I'm a heathen and know absolutely nothing (obviously).

I personally thought there was more beauty outside the museum with the light above the lake that day. Lots of yachts were out sailing, they're just pinpricks here on the photo but they were simply lovely.

Breaking all the rules..

2009-09-19T09:45:00.000-07:00

It seems to be perceived wisdom in blogging etiquette that you should never write "sorry I haven't posted anything for a while". Apparently it looks unprofessional. But as there have been no posts on here for over a month then it seems a tad remiss of me not to explain why.

Nothing disastrous has happened, we are all well, and in fine form. In fact August was rather an excellent month with 25 years of marriage and a BIG birthday to celebrate. The latter was fabulous. I woke up in Addingham, the village I grew up in to a glorious morning. We stayed with some good friends of my parents and before breakfast, D and I got up early to go a short walk over the Roman road which looks out on Beamsley Beacon. This is a small mountain (large hill?) that overlooks the village and was part of my childhood. We also got *married in Beamsley so lots of memories associated with it. The chapel no longer exists in the building but has been turned into a very worthwhile project. The scenery around here is stunning (it's also near where they filmed Calendar Girls)

My mother even wrote a Christmas carol about Beamsley Beacon and then took her class at school (she was a teacher) to Leeds to sing it on BBC Look North.

But I digress.

The day brought cards, phone calls and messages from all over the world including an sms from friends holidaying in Iceland, an sms from friends who were half way up a cable car in France,
a friend who called me and then played "Happy Birthday" on her piano from her summer cottage on a Norwegian island. Other friends (mother, father and nine year old daughter) called to sing "Happy Birthday" from their holiday in the Ticino region of Switzerland. The evening rounded off with an night with friends at family my village pub. A very good day, a good night, a very good celebration.

I don't really have any angst about turning the big 50. I reckon if I have friends and family, am in good health, haven't seen any wars, never been made redundant, never known hunger, am still married after a quarter of a century, have had the opportunity to travel and can afford a good bottle of wine every now and again, then there's lots to celebrate.

OK I'd love to lose around 14lbs in weight, I wish my mum had lived to see our daughter been born and her and my Dad to see her grow up too, it would be nice to have a few less wrinkles, but what the hell. If this sounds like a load of pious, sanctimonious twaddle I don't really care.

So August was fabulous and then....... it became a bit of a roller coaster. From the highs of celebration we dipped to a bit of a low after our daughter left to go travelling on her gap year.
I had always been so dismissive of those mothers that talked about empty nest syndrome. "Pah!" I thought if they are so wrapped up in their childrens' lives, then there is something wrong if they can't accept it when their children leave home.

Boy, am I eating my words now. As parents we are busy people and have lot's going on, so we didn't exactly live our life through our daughter, but we were very much a part of her life and she very much a part of ours. We've been a family dynamic of three for 18 years, we have moved across continents and countries and been through a lot together. Suddenly it's gone back down to just the two of us. The day we said goodbye to her on her way to Australia we were bereft. I felt a bit like the face in the photo below.

The first week was just awful. I'd been warned by other mothers that this would happen but I didn't believe them. How wrong I was.

Anyway three weeks later I admit it's got easier. The odd sms sent from the Australian outback and the occasional phone call has helped and it's suprising how quickly you adjust to a new status quo, I've also gained a spare room which is great for dumping the laundry, but of course I would much rather she was there than the washing pile. But she's not and that's the way it should be.

I left home and went travelling at the age of 17 and 11 months and spent 3 days on a bus from London to Greece. My mother must have been bereft too and she didn't have text messages to console her or cheer her day up. But I do and am so grateful for that.

Since she left D and I have had a few away days so there's lots to report on from the most sublime Coldplay concert in Berne to a disastrous trip to see the Van Gogh exhibition in Basel.

But this post is getting far too long and apparently, that's another thing you musn't do in blogging etiquette -make posts too long. So that's two rules I've broken already, but "tant pis".

I reckon when you get to my age you can break all the rules you like........

Part Three

2009-08-17T14:09:00.000-07:00

Betty's tea room -Ilkley
Silverdale

A lovely place to post a letter

Part Two

2009-08-17T14:05:00.000-07:00

Walkers in the wing mirror

How's this for a B+B?

Fishermen in the morning

Beautiful Britain - Part One

2009-08-17T12:44:00.000-07:00

We have returned from a fabulous ten days away in England and Scotland, catching up with friends, celebrating birthdays, reminiscing (more on that later). So much to say so much to report back on, but in the interim here are some photos. A wee soupcon of the beauty of the British Isles.

Sheep in the Yorkshire Dales

Their wool caught on barbed wire

Kingcups by a stream

In my letter box this morning......

2009-07-24T01:32:00.000-07:00

Was a flyer for a place that sells fresh milk "automatic 24 hours a day".

What it this? A cow by the side of the road perhaps? You never know, this is Switzerland.....

There haven't been any posts on here for a while as I'm doing lots of stuff over on Living in Nyon and it's.... Paléo!!!!! My favourite week of the year.

Montreux Jazz - Just a bit too cool for its own good this year

2009-07-14T00:18:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I've raved and written about Montreux Jazz festival before because yes, it is in a fabulous setting, yes it does have some great bands and I really like the town. But this year I think it just got a bit too cool for its own good.

Most festivals have the main band with supporting acts that appear before them, which is fine, and these days concerts at Montreux often have two supporting bands which is OK too.

But... when the supporting bands start late and then there is a massive wait between them, it means the main band doesn't come on until really late. Perhaps it's not so bad at the weekend, but during the week when most folk have to get to to work the next day it's tough. As many travel to Montreux from Geneva or Lausanne then it often means they have to leave before the main band has finished performing. Not good when you have paid a small fortune for the tickets, some tickets are 240 CHF.

Case in point. Last week we went to see Jamie Cullen, he was very good but didn't appear until 00:15. As the train for Geneva leaves at either midnight or 01:00 then you either miss him or just get to see an hour and have to leave before he finishes the set. The alternative is the train at 02:00 which stops everywhere, involves changing in Lausanne and doesn't get to Geneva until 05:12. Not good for the workers. Even if you drove, it's still an hour's haul back to Geneva.

When I went to complain about this to the administration they replied with characteristic French Swiss ennui. "Buh, mais c'est Montreux" ie: "we have this great reputation therefore we don't care and anyway how dare you complain?"

Well sorry mate but there were a lot of disgruntled people talking about this on the train on our way home, so next year they may be voting with their feet and simply not going. In these restrained financial times, Montreux should take note.

Sunday night was another example, two supporting bands, one of them Sweet Georgia Brown (she was very good too) but then there was another long gap to wait between bands. Then came a charity auction which lasted half an hour and just seemed to be some promotional outlet for a guy's art gallery (he was a poor auctioneer too, it would have been easier to take a Swiss franc off the ticket price towards the charity). This meant that by the time the great B.B King came on it was once again very late. By that time most people were flagging and fed up.

Claude Nobs may have created a great festival and has put the town on the map and all over the world. He is famed for entertaining all the stars in his lovely chalet above the town during the day, which of course he is entitled to and deserves to do. But if the stars are busy partying away while the punters are waiting patiently below for the bands to start then something isn't quite right.

Montreux is cool, but this year its attitude to its fans left me ice cold.

That's bad... and sad.

2009-07-05T03:09:00.000-07:00

Bizarrely I've found myself reading and watching quite a lot about M.J at the moment. I'm even typing this on a Sunday morning watching Larry King on a CNN programme " Remembering an Icon". Crikey, I even spent 8 CHF on Time magazine's tribute issue to him. I didn't expect I'd be doing this, I used to be a fan but had cooled off considerably, all the stuff in the last few years had definitely put me off him.

And then... I came home late one night last week and caught a programme about his early days. An old black and white clip of when he was around 8 or 9, giving such an electric spine chilling performance, I was reminded of why he was so great.

Reminded me why (at my insistance) in the 90's we drove over 4 hours from Paysandu in Uruguay to Buenos Aires to see him perform in the River Plate Stadium. It was rather a bizarre concert to be honest, because Michael Jackson although massively popular, couldn't match the popularity of Maradona. When he walked into the stadium as a V.I.P guest, the roar was phenonemal. The roar for Michael was loud, but not as loud. Jackson may have worn jackets that looked like he was a member of royalty but football is the king in Argentina.

His performance was good, but he kept coming on stage to sing a song and then he disappeared for ages leaving the audience kicking their heels waiting for the next song. This was when all the allegations had started and when he eventually cut his world tour short. To be honest it was a bit tedious.

Despite this, when he was on stage and the first notes of the old favourites started up, "Beat it" "Don't stop" etc, the stadium was rocking.

I'm glad that we went. His steady decline into eccentricity was bad and sad, and probably inevitable, given all the circumstances of his life.

But his music. You just couldn't and can't, beat it.

So that's it then

2009-06-29T07:41:00.000-07:00

No more German conjugation prompts on the bathroom mirror

No more school timetable stuck on the back of the kitchen cabinet door

No more philosophy books and various French literature around the house for study purposes

No more files full of notes for exams piling up everywhere

It all stopped last Monday the very last day EVA of school for daughter number one.

13 years of a daughter's education.

Walking her to and from her first playgroup in Uruguay.

Buying her first uniform (green) for her first school in Paysandu.

Sewing name tags on a different uniform (red) for Carleton Primary school in Yorkshire.

Watching her perform as an angel in the nativity play in said school.

Baking cakes and raising money for school playground equipment.

Sewing name tags on a different uniform (blue) for Gullane primary school in Scotland,

Watching school sports day, another nativity play.

Moving to Switzerland, driving her to Geneva English School every day,

Watching her perform in "Oliver", and another Christmas concert.

Then on to Le Rocher her first Swiss school, and now Gymnase, the high school.

Countless parent/teacher meetings, lots of homework, lots of friends, a few tears, some good teachers, some excellent ones, a few dreadful ones, countless school trips to Italy, Barcelona, Rotterdam, India. Brain gym, school projects galore, some involving paper glue and crayons other projects involving just brainpower , countless school photographs, lots of fun, lots of laughter. I could go on.

It has been a joy to be part of it all. I am a little bereft right now as is stopped on Monday. She took her last exam at 16:00 and then got her final result at 18:30 (they are efficient these Swiss)

So that's it. So what's a mother to do now?

I've said it before...

2009-06-14T09:01:00.000-07:00

and I'll say it again. This is a great place to live.

Two weekends ago brought it home to me when I was at the Geneva Writers' Group. Petina Gappah, one of our members, was giving a reading from her book, An Elegy for Easterly, a selection of short stories set in Zimbabwe (where she grew up).

She then recounted of how she wrote the book, getting up at 04:30 to write here in Switzerland before putting a full day's work in as a lawyer (she is also a mum with a young son). Her dedication and hard work have paid off as the book has received rave reviews and she has just been on a whistle stop promotional tour. She had interesting stories to tell about meeting other writers, many of them famous. Read her post on her blog from the 3rd May, names like Michael Ondaatje and Colm Toibin and Vikas Swarup are peppered in there. She is even going to featured in Oprah Winfrey's magazine. Gosh, we (the group) are proud of her.

Petina touched on a little bit about the political situation in Zimbabwe and how Zimbaweans are resilient; "we laugh at funerals for heaven sake". She also said that at her graduation a few years ago, Robert Mugabe was at the ceremony to cap the new graduates. At one stage she wrote on the back of her graduation photo, "the President of Zimbabwe capping the future President of Zimbabwe" as at that time she thought she would go into politics. Nowadays she has no interest in being a politician, writing (along with holding down a full time job), is her life.
As she was speaking the sunlight came though the windows of the Press club and shone onto the fuschia and orange colours on the beautiful scarf wrapped around her head.

Just that morning I had come in on the train from Nyon, the Alps and Mont Blanc had both been looking particularly glorious. Lots of lovely sights all in the space of a few hours. After the workshop more writers from our group joined us at our "end of summer " potluck meal. They missed hearing Petina because they had just been a few kilometres down the road listening to Archbishop Desmond Tutu who was in Geneva speaking at the Geneva Forum on Social Change.

There is always so much happening in this area, so much to choose from (more text after the photos)

Pettina with Susan Tiberghien - founder of the Geneva Writers' Group. Thankyou to Alistair Scott for the photos. He has written about taking them in a post in his photography blog.

Here is Petina below at our Geneva Writers' conference last year with Melissa (another writer to watch) Of course our group has lots of other great writers within its membership, lots of them working away on masterpieces right now, but for the moment, its Petina's time to shine.

The weather continued to remain lovely all week and and I then went to Caribana

the first of the summer music festivals in Nyon. As the sun set on Mont Blanc and the lake glistened behind the stages each night, I rocked with the Lovebugs on Wednesday danced and sang, sang, sang along with Fran Healey of Travis on Thursday.....

and reggaed to UB 40 on Friday. All this within the space of seven days.

Last weekend the FT, put Geneva at number 24 in the ranking of most liveable cities in the world.

I know why.

From the top of a Lisbon bus

2009-06-07T06:57:00.000-07:00

I am taking a bit of a photography course at the moment with this very clever photographer (see his site). There are others of us on the course and last week we went out and about in the vineyards of Vaud, looking and learning about shots with close ups and photos taken from different view points etc. The vineyards of Vaud are not a bad place for a classroom.
Here's one of a dandelion against the sun. Spot those insects crawling inside.

Last weekend D and I were in Lisbon so I decided to take all the photos from high up. I've always thought those open top bus tours looked a bit naff, and to be honest the guide on this one was rubbish, and the driver drove like a bat out of hell. He was obviously anxious to get to his next fag break, which meant that as soon as I was ready to press the shutter, he revved up and whizzed off, so some of the shots were blurred. But being high up did mean I got an interesting view of the city and let's face it, Lisbon although lovely, does have lots of steep hills, so it saved on lot of leg work. Anyway here is the city seen from a top deck.

And finally snuck in this photo you will see the reflection of two bloggers. Me and Lucy Pepper.

Now that was a very good part of this trip. A fantastic female fellow blogger. A big obrigada Lucy for your hospitality.

Silver service indeed

2009-05-30T08:50:00.000-07:00

We are staying in rather a posh hotel at the moment in Lisbon. D and I both need to work a bit while we are here, so both have brought our laptops. I have a small battery on mine to make it lighter and to prevent backache when I'm lugging it around. So inevitably it runs down after a a while which it did today, even though I brought the cable for it, I forgot to bring an adaptor for Portugal . So I asked the hotel if they had one. They had.

A member of staff wearing white gloves brought it to me on a silver tray............

As soon as he walked towards me I could feel a blog post coming on.

They say you've arrived when.....

2009-05-18T11:30:00.000-07:00

You have your own car parking space. (CNP is the acronym of my surname).

After all, this area is acronym land personified. Have a conversation around here and it often goes like this. Who do you work for?

er... W.H.O I.M.O W.I.P.O I.U.C.N U.N W.W.F I.L.O U.N.C.H.R, agh the list goes on. I'm sure some of my fellow bloggers in Geneva and environs could add a gazillion more.

Talking of fellow bloggers. Check out this brand new one, by a crafty Canadian who is rather good at public speaking (he's won a few awards along the way). He's recently written a post on where do you stand on Power Point presentations?

No, not how you feel about them but where do you physically stand ie: which is the best side of the screen to stand? I've done a few PPP, but not many and all on the subject of expatriate living. Most of them went OK, but one had potential for disaster as I spilt a cup of tea down my blouse a nano-second before I went on....... fortunately a jacket covered it up but it threw my nerves somewhat. I'm sure John will cover such issues in his blog at some stage on how to get out of sticky situations. Or maybe its only me that is dumb enough to want to slurp hot tea before standing up in front of a few hundred strangers.

Oh and that car parking space, nah it wasn't for me, it was for the Club Nautique de Prangins
(sailing club of Prangins)

One day, one day.

This freelance life

2009-05-06T08:27:00.000-07:00

It's either feast or famine with freelancing.

Just a steady bit of work for a while and then suddenly loads of stuff comes in, all at once, all with deadlines in the same month. I'm not complaining , it's just that this blog desperately need updating and that photo of the snow in the Jura is er... a tad out of date. Bear with me. Normal service will be resumed asap.

Back from school trips and business trips

2009-04-15T11:18:00.000-07:00

School trips got more exciting in the past few years. They also got a tad more expensive. Gone are the days when a day out to the nearest coast (in our case Whitby) on a charabanc of a bus with sandwich packed lunch, bag of salt and vinegar crisps, quick paddle in the North sea, quick trek round the shops to bring home mum and dad a stick of rock would do.

There might have been some kind of geography lesson involved but that was it really. You all sang "ten green bottles" in the bus on the way home, and some of you felt a bit sick as you had drank too much Tizer. It was fun though.

Nowadays school trip for number one daughter was two and a half weeks staying in hotels in the old palaces of Rajasthan. So if parents had forked out for this, she knew that a stick of rock would not suffice in the "thankyou for letting me go, you soft touch parents" present giving stakes. She came up trumps. There was a bag full of goodies on her return.

From the beautiful silks and materials she brought home

To a demonstration on how to put on a sari.

To goodies for the kitchen and house

To a newspaper of the day. She knows that not only am I a news junkie, but I do like to look at the other sections of other newspapers, to see the adverts and quirky stuff. I kinda' like this one.

"Maintain a resilient smile with the power of Hanuman on your mobile"

Oh and husband number one also knows that he has to bring back newspapers from business trips. This is from the Georgetown Current,in Washington D.C.

It's for a retirement home. It says "Come join us, Good Friends, People who care, Distinctive retirement living, Private suites, Fine Dining, Social and Cultural Services, Chauffeured Sedan.

"Chauffered Sedan" ! what the ........?

On the back of those Indian spices it says: "How to make Daal -Cook 5 minutes until the fresh spices should be cooked in mean time. Then add some water as you guece (think) Cover it and cook until it gives the whistle of the kuker. add 10-15 garlics (cutted in small pieces) .. sever to eat having a real Indian taste If you success then send me thankyou to mmspices@yahoo...."

If I success then I think I will...

Just a thought.....

2009-04-08T01:15:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else type their blog sat in pyjamas with two shower caps on head and sporting a bright turquoise face mask?

Didn't think so.

Cultural stereotyping

2009-04-07T01:09:00.000-07:00

What they say

"The beauty of living in other countries is that it gives a real understanding of other people's cultures.... which in turn prevents cultural stereotyping.....

Forget that

Enjoy. It's quite an old joke that's done the rounds for years but this is an updated version.

SOCIALISM

You have 2 cows.

You give one to your neighbour.

COMMUNISM

You have 2 cows.

The State takes both and gives you some milk.

FASCISM

You have 2 cows.

The State takes both and sells you some milk.

NAZISM

You have 2 cows.

The State takes both and shoots you.

BUREAUCRATISM

You have 2 cows.

The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and then throws the milk away.

TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM

You have two cows.

You sell one and buy a bull.

Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.

You sell them and retire on the income.

SURREALISM

You have two giraffes.

The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

AN AMERICAN CORPORATION

You have two cows.

You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows. Later, you hire a consultant to analyse why the cow has dropped dead.

ENRON VENTURE CAPITALISM

You have two cows.

You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.

The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island Company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.

The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. You sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States , leaving you with nine cows.

No balance sheet provided with the release. The public then buys your bull.

A FRENCH CORPORATION

You have two cows.

You go on strike, organize a riot, and block the roads, because you want three cows.

A JAPANESE CORPORATION

You have two cows.

You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.

You then create a clever cow cartoon image called 'Cowkimon' and market it worldwide.

A GERMAN CORPORATION

You have two cows.

You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.

AN ITALIAN CORPORATION

You have two cows, but you don't know where they are. You decide to have lunch.

A RUSSIAN CORPORATION

You have two cows.

You count them and learn you have five cows.

You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.

You count them again and learn you have 2 cows.

You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.

A SWISS CORPORATION

You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you.

You charge the owners for storing them.

A CHINESE CORPORATION

You have two cows.

You have 300 people milking them.

You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity. You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.

AN INDIAN CORPORATION

You have two cows.

You worship them.

A BRITISH CORPORATION

You have two cows.

Both are mad.

AN IRAQI CORPORATION

Everyone thinks you have lots of cows.

You tell them that you have none.

No one believes you, so they bomb you and invade your country.

You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of a Democracy.

AN AUSTRALIAN CORPORATION

You have two cows.

Business seems pretty good.

You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.

A WELSH CORPORATION

You have two cows. You sell them and buy seven sheep.

The one in the middle looks rather attractive.

Don't know who the original author of this is to credit them, sorry.

Mother was right

2009-04-07T00:38:00.000-07:00

When she said "don't slouch".

Went to the Monday movie in English in Nyon last night to see "Frost/Nixon".

Brilliant andwe got the comfy low extra leg room seats so I slouched during the entire film.

I'm now paying the price. Sat at laptop with backache and stinking of Perskindol Classic Gel ("pour les troubles musculaires")

Troubles indeed.

The gel sounds great in German "muskelbeschwerden gelenkschmerzen". Try to say that with a full mouth.

Eclectic lifestyles inc.

2009-03-29T14:09:00.000-07:00

So husband number one was in Washington D.C when he texted me to say all was OK but he couldn't chat as he was off to some big dinner with a speaker, and "oh by the way he thought he would be on the same table as John Kerry".

Daughter number one then texted from Rajasthan to say all was OK but she couldn't chat because they were all tired from the long journey (school trip, by eck 'all we got was a day out to Whitby or Scarborough)and "oh by the way it was 28 degrees there".

and where was I? well I was about to go into a bunker to meet a group of asylum seekers. Nyon has welcomed 90 of them here while they are in transit and while they wait to find out what their future is going to be. There was no other accommodation available at the last minute when the town decided to take them, so they have converted the town's public bunker into temporary housing. It sounds primitive but being Swiss it is very well organised, very efficient and clean with bedrooms, showers, a kitchen and TV rooms.

So while I was trying to chat to a group of Somalians and men from Eritrea, the rest of my family were swanning round the world and I was underground. It could be construed that I drew the short straw but actually I felt privileged to be able to meet them. It's hard for this not to post to sound patronising but I do hope that a decision comes soon on their future. The bunker is fine for now but not long term. Bonne chance to them.

Oh and daughter number one is blogging about her Rajasthan trip for her "school art project".
She's quite good at it, and I'm not saying that just because I'm her mother. Take a look. Her English spelling sometimes goes a bit haywire, but heh, thats forgiven if you are used to writing in French most of the time.

It's au revoir ....again

2009-03-22T13:20:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago I wrote a post about the downsides of expat life. The fact that you meet great people and then... they leave to go onto other countries, other places.

This year our writers' group has just said goodbye to another great writer. She leaves for pastures new in the U.S. Later on this year I know I will be saying another sad goodbye to a very, very good friend who is going to live in Delhi.

I know that each of them will embrace their new life and make the most of their new destination, and I know that I'll still be able to keep up with them via the net, but it still 'aint the same as sharing a cup of coffee or a meal and sharing laughs together.

The first friend is leaving on Tuesday. She has just written some great posts with sublime photos about the things she will miss about Switzerland. Take a look.

I agree with her about lots of the things including the markets here, they are just fab.

Bonne Chance Mighty Mum

Beautiful Barcelona but no burglars

2009-03-01T07:24:00.000-08:00

Watched Woody Allen's Vicky Cristina Barcelona last night.

A couple of observations. There's a shot of Penelope Cruz stood by a garage door. It looks suspiciously like this garage door that I took in BCN a couple of years ago. Great minds an' all that.

Secondly, all the folk that are wandering down Las Ramblas in this film are wearing very subtle, muted colours, muddy greens pale greys, sophisticated browns. There are no gaudy, badly dressed tourists. In fact no one gets ROBBED or has a scam pulled on them by the gazillion clever thieves that work the city. So not really true to life.

Thirdly, Penelope Cruz is great but doesn't appear till half way through the film so I'm suprised she won an Oscar for this. There are other films she's been in that are equally good, but no matter, 'im indoors fancies her and I fancy Javier Bardem so a win win movie for a Saturday night.

Although... I'm a tad reluctant to give Woody Allen any promotion, his affair with his adopted daughter was just a big no no, wrong, wrong, wrong and downright creepy.

Biscuit crunch not credit crunch

2009-02-23T14:10:00.000-08:00

The news today is that the Swiss businesses that have weathered the credit crunch are the biscuit and chocolate industry. Sales up by 7% last year. I think I have contributed quite considerably to their success. My waistline and derriere are testament to this.

Dunno why.... but

2009-02-12T05:55:00.000-08:00

Something makes me think summer is a long way off. More photos of snowy type scenes over on my other blog Living in Nyon

By sheer chance

2009-02-10T13:59:00.000-08:00

I happened to be on the BBC News Website and discovered that they had used one of the photos that I had sent in weeks ago of the Obama Inauguration.. I'd forgotten about it.

Flick to picture 8 on BBC News

As to the lack of previous postings on here, apologies, the weather is awful, here so I'm stuck inside working on a gazillion things but not really completing any. I've even started a third blog (as if I've got time to keep that one going). I'll let you know when it's ready to be seen.

Trying to grow old disgracefully but not quite succeeding

2009-02-01T08:42:00.000-08:00

So daughter number one turned 18 last week and lots of fun was had by her, her friends and admittedly by her parents. A request from her for me, to cook empanadas for her birthday meal and served with Pisco Sour was met quite willingly. She was born in Chile so why not have a Chilean meal?

Trouble was said birthday was on a Monday night and the particular brand of Pisco we had bought was ...err 42 % strong ... ouch.

Not a lot of work was done at school or work by anyone in this family the following day.

So as daughter number one pretty much continued the celebrations all week and went off to Verbier to continue partying at the weekend, us old melancholic parents felt well, old.

"Right I said we are not going to go into pipe and slippers phase, we should go out more. There are three events going on tonight in Nyon, jazz down at the conservatoire, rock at a newly opened bar and what looks like an interesting drumming band down at the Usine a Gaz. (translated =gas factory but it's actually a band venue)

D looked at me after a long week saving the planet and said "Do we have to?"

"Yes" I said determinedly, "Derby and Joan we will not be"

So we gloved and scarved up in this blooming freezing weather and walked down the steep hill to the venue. We paid our 70 chf and went in. I won't name the band for loyalty to this town, for the survival of my other blog and because the big tough, tattooed up drummers looked like they knew someone who could put a contract out on me.

It was tosh.

I don't know if drumming powerfully in unison with a load of others all night takes skill or just brute force, I'm probably not the best judge.

But I do know that both of us wished we had stayed home.

Pipe, slippers and hot chocolate never seemed so appealing.

What a swell party!

2009-01-21T01:20:00.000-08:00

It was a little squashed, a little noisy, but it was lots of fun. Hundreds of folk squashed into an Italian wine bar in Geneva to watch the Inauguration of Barack Obama, hosted by Democrats Abroad. It didn't matter that I was British, there were loads of different nationalities there that night.

Make a Smilebox postcard

At the risk of repeating a theme of a previous post, I can't help commenting again on how interesting this expat life can be. You get to meet lots of fascinating people, particularly in this part of Switzerland. That night I was introduced to someone who had worked in the White House, someone who had some fascinating stories to tell about a U.S senator and I went along with someone who had manned the phones when campaigning for Kennedy.

The champagne flowed and the atmosphere and DJ were upbeat. A swell party indeed.

I've been playing around with this new photo widget, just press "play", wait a few seconds for it to load and then click each image to see it more clearly. They are not the best shots in the world I was on my second glass of champagne by then.... but it will give you an idea of what it was like.

If you check over on my other blog Living in Nyon at the post from 4th January, you will see the widget in use again when I took pics of the New Year swim in the lake. Yes you did read that right, a swim on the 4th of Jan. There was a fun atmosphere there too, albeit slightly colder in temperature !

What was also heartening to see last night, that during the occasion, the Obama daughters looked gorgeous and interested in it all, but much later on during the parade it became well.... just a bit boring for the little one and ennui set in, see the pics on the Huffington Post. Remember that photo of Prince Charles at a very young age looking a bit bored during his Mum's Coronation?

Kids will be kids and I love 'em for it.

Yippee! I can now take down the sticker

2009-01-19T14:27:00.000-08:00

It's sheer coincidence honest, but it's been exactly a month since I posted on this site. Bizarrely I also realised what this date means when I looked up at my noticeboard.

It means that in 24 hours I pull this sticker off.

The board has been waiting for it to go, the board is looking forward to a wipe over with a clean cloth to get rid of all the grot and mess that's been on there for so long. It will be so nice to start the year with a nice, new, fresh looking drawing board to work on, get rid of old outdated ideas, pursue new ones and just breathe one big, big sigh of relief.

So can I pull this sticker off and throw it in the rubbish bin? Yes I can!

2008-12-19T09:03:00.000-08:00

From the study to the rest of the world. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I'll be back soon!

13 days to go until the end of the year and all the best intentions of the perpet expat having a clear desk, all emails sent, a revamped blog, photos categorised, two travel pieces written, an organised study and two personal essays drafted have all gone out of the window.

The most important piece of writing that I should be working on (and the Argeles crowd know what that is) is still way off where it should be and as I don't want to get a severe ticking off from a Canadian Mountie, a Glasgow Blether, a Boston Bookworm or an American Blonde. So I am calling a halt to this blog until I get THE piece of work done.

Yes I know some of you are waiting to hear more about Syria and other stuff, folk have asked what happened to the next instalment, but sorry, it will just have to wait a bit longer.

At the moment the suitcase is half packed we are leaving for Austria tomorrow and the flat is in a state of flux. Oh well. We are going to a place where I hope to get some serious writing done.

Once my work is finished - be warned. I'll be back with a vengeance!

Oh and Merry Christmas and Happy New Year by the way!

2008-12-07T23:07:00.000-08:00

The beauty of expat life

......in this part of the world is that you meet lots of different nationalities. If you are lucky enough you also get to share in their traditions too.
So with in the space of a week I've been to an American Thanksgiving in Montreux, where the turkey was delicious, the cranberry with orange sauce just divine, the company stimulating and the view from the balcony sublime.

A Swiss primary school where the choir sung carols in French and the parents looked on as proud as punch.

A Swedish St Lucia festival in Arzier where the fire was blazing, candles were lit around the house (and in the snow!) and where a mixture of nationalities gathered around the piano to sing and to eat superb Scandinavian fare .

I've seen the good folk of Geneva run up and around the old town as part of the annual traditional Escalade race. Where the rain was incessant and there was a chill in the air, but the smell of mulled wine coming from the Christmas stalls was just fabulous.

Where the lights of the city looked so pretty.

and finally, yesterday I went* to a traditional British pantomime with a brilliant "Dame", a long legged Aladdin, a colourful chorus and an audience of around 1300 in the the Theatre du Leman all shouting, "He's behind you" and singing the words to a silly ditty involving arm movements and noises.

Marvellous. Where would we be without our traditions?

* Oh yes I did

Oh no you didn't (This bit will only make sense to fellow Brits)

2008-11-21T13:41:00.000-08:00

This one's for the bikers out there. Richard, Tom and all the rest.

"Aah" I exclaimed to the guide, "How unusual, I see Syrians like to put pieces of carpet and fancy materials on the seats of their bikes, isn't that interesting? How creative, how decorative!"

The guide gave me a look that spoke volumes, one that said, "We've got a right one 'ere".

But like all Syrians he was diplomatic to the end. He politely said,

"No madam they put material on the seats to keep them cool. It gets to well over 40 degrees here in the desert and leather would be just too hot".

Ouch...

The pics below are just for me. The weather is foul and grotty outside, we are camping in the sitting room on account of not having a kitchen at the moment, it's chaos everywhere, I can't find a thing and I'm way behind with a hundred writing projects (smacked bottom from the Blether no doubt).

So the pics are there to cheer me up as they remind me of the fab Talisman hotel in Damascus. The rooms were palatial, the place was just gorgeous and simply sitting in the warmth of the courtyard listening to the call to prayer, night or day, made you forget about absolutely everything. Bliss.

2008-11-06T14:47:00.000-08:00

Memorable Media Moments - some weepy, some weird, many wonderful.

Nyon, Switzerland 5th November 2008 05:00. In my dressing gown, holding a cup of tea and watching BBC One when they announced that Barack Obama had won - Big weepy, wonderful moment.

1996 In the study in Skipton North Yorkshire listening to the radio, when I heard the first reports of the Dunblane shooting in Scotland - Awful, incredulous moment

August 1977 On an island in Greece sat in a café on my own when a Greek came up to me and asked me, "was I English? and had I heard Elvis Presley had died?" Bit of a surreal moment.

1994 Doing the ironing in a cottage in Yorkshire watching TV when Mandela was elected President. Big weepy, wonderful moment.

1997 In North Berwick glued to the TV when Charles (Princess Diana's brother) made his famous speech at her funeral. Memorable moment indeed

1975 As a teenager cycling above Bolton Abbey with my best friend Josephine. We had a mini transistor radio (as they were called then) tied to a bike and heard that Arthur Ashe had won the Wimbledon tennis final (for all you spring chickens that don't know why this was memorable, he was the first black male player to win)

1966 Vague recollections as a child of the news coverage of Aberfan, when a coal waste tip slid on to the village in Wales and on to a village school 144 people died, 116 of them were children.

Even vaguer recollection of watching Churchill's funeral on TV. I was only a tot

Having to pull the car over on the hard shoulder of the M1 due to laughing so much at some joke Johnners had made on a cricket commentary. Marvellous moment.

The 80's and 90's Listening to many of Martin Kelner's late night Saturday night shows on BBC Radio Leeds Radio Leeds. Crying with laughter. Marvellous again

1987 Living in London and waking up to Chris Tarrant on Capital Radio telling everyone to snuggle back down under the duvet and not even to bother trying to go into work as there had been a hurricane overnight.

1985 Oban, Scotland Staying inside the whole day to watch TV (despite fabulous weather outside after weeks of rain) to watch Live Aid . Bob Geldof, the whole thing. Phil Collins doing two concerts in England and the U.S via Concorde. Many wonderful moments that day. Very weepy too (the Cars song "Whose going to take you home tonight" to the images of starving children.

1979 Sitting in a car in Salerno Italy with an Italian boyfriend listening to the radio announcing the rising death toll after the earthquake which we had survived, but some of our friends hadn't

The BBC 1997 Election coverage with the transvestite candidate "Miss Money Penny's Glamorous One's party" towering above Neil Hamilton and Martin Bell.
Marvellous, surreal moment.

2001 Being in a school playground in Genthod, in Switzerland laughing with other mums and then hearing a mum say "have you heard the news? someone has crashed a plane into a building in NYC".

I'm surprised the Kennedy asassination or even the moon landing is not in my memory bank but no matter. I'm sure there will be many more media moments to come, hopefully memorable for the right reasons and not the wrong ones.

Rereading this I've realised how much the BBC have played a big part in all these moments.

2008-11-02T23:38:00.000-08:00

Syria Part One - Damascus - Dry, dusty and refreshing.

There hadn't been much rain recently in Damascus when we were there in October, and when it did fall, it lasted for barely a few minutes. Barely enough to wash the layers of dust away that permeate the city, and one's hair and clothes and skin.

But no matter, because the Old City is refreshing. Refreshing because amongst the souks and old town you don't see a single named brand. Not a single H&M or Zara or any other chain that has managed to get a toe hold in other world cities. When you are travelling with a teenage daughter this is important for your sanity.

What you do get in this part of Damascus is an area full of consumers who buy their fruit from individual sellers in the street.

Or from the backs of vans, or they get a fresh pomegranate juice made up there and then in the street "to go".

Or they sit and enjoy a drink in beautiful courtyards of old Damascene houses, places that don't have a single polystyrene cup in sight and where the words "skinny" and "latte" don't even enter into the vocabulary, in either English or Arabic.

Where the ice cream comes with fresh pistachio nuts on the top from a shop that has been there for years. Not some trumped up marketing name made to sound old and prestigious and to justify charging a fortune for a tub.

Where the falafel is cooked fresh on the spot by an open window and the chick peas that are used in them dry on a ledge nearby.

Where the fashions are decidely different

Where the books are sold along the wall near the university to students in such an eclectic mix, it makes for interesting reading. No three for the price of two stickers here. Although I guess you may be able to haggle for such a deal.

So different, so wonderful.

2008-10-29T05:44:00.000-07:00

It's not often I'm lost for words.

But we've just got back from a family holiday to Syria and I find myself at a loss as to how to start describing it. So overwhelming was the whole experience, my head is so full of so many images, sight and sounds, that it's difficult to sum it up in one post. So I won't. I'll break it down over various posts and even if I risk sounding like a travel bore I don't care. The people and country of Syria gave me wonderful memories and I'm going to thank them in anyway I can.

I used up three memory cards in the camera on this trip. Here are three pics taken at random from over a thousand.

The old railway station in Damascus - Now a bookshop

Folk praying. Children playing. Umayyad Mosque, Damascus

Andalucia? No it's the Syrian countryside

2008-10-13T12:24:00.000-07:00

Aah the Swiss they're sooooo polite.

This sign says " please very kindly, pretty please, don't pick the grapes"

In the UK it would probably be "Trespassers will be prosecuted"

In Italy it would be "Do not pick the grapes according to article 4. 1 3. 6 subsection 9. 10 sub sub section 10 from ennero 86 blah blah

In the U.S it would probably be "Don't pick the grapes or Homeland Security will get you"

Anyway we're off on our hols, so no posts for around 10 days. Unless I can get to an Internet Café. Which should be very interesting indeed if I do. Don't know if they allow such stuff over there.

Where are we going ? Aha. Wait and see.

2008-09-30T08:58:00.000-07:00

Ten things I learned on a writers course in the South of France

1. That this place (below) in Argeles-sur-mer is just fabulous. A good place to workshop and brainstorm ideas.

The subject of the course was "Developing unforgettable characters". As we were discussing the characters that we were working on, real life village characters walked past the window.

2. That the owner who created it, is a superb hostess, a very talented sclulptor, artist and brilliant cook.

3. That the instructor/novelist was very, very good and truly inspiring. She also understood that when a band and a choir started to perform outside, we just wouldn't be able to resist leaving the laptops to go and watch.

4.That I thought these guys were good. But I think the girl in the pink trousers wasn't as impressed.

5 But that this little girl loved to listen to her granny sing

6.That feminism still has a long way to go....

7. That I know it's been said a million times before, but the light of the sky, and the colours of the buildings in this part of the world are just gorgeous.

8. That Petanque is alive and well. There were hundreds of players in the centre of the village on a Saturday afternoon.

9. That I need a few lessons in night photography

10.That travelling in a car with four witty, funny, like minded writers, made the whole thing a bundle of fun, and a brilliant, brilliant weekend away.

And yes you're right Sher, what went on during the trip, stays on the trip. ARH?

2008-09-10T14:21:00.000-07:00

In the words of Sir Elton John. "I'm still standing"

Yup, I'm still live and kicking. The big switch on went without a hitch. The blogs will continue.

2008-09-09T12:08:00.000-07:00

It was nice knowing you.

Tomorrow morning, they switch on the large hadron collider over at Cern.

It's a few miles away from here.

They say it's safe.

But just in case....

It was nice knowing you fellow bloggers, Sher, Melissa, Marissa, Tom, Jonathan, D-L, Camille, Lucy and all the others.

I have a had good life.

So this could be either adios or hasta luego folks.

2008-09-05T00:46:00.000-07:00

Eclectic Holidays inc.

Geneva - London, 1 night Kensington -London, 2 nights Hainault - Essex, 1 night Newark-Lincolnshire, 1 night Ossett - West Yorkshire, 1 day Addingham - West Yorkshire,1 night Scarborough -North Yorkshire, 2 nights Oslo - Norway, 2 nights on a small island somewhere off the Norwegian coast. Oslo - Geneva

Not just an eclectic holiday but lots of packing and unpacking. Heaving bags on and off trains and buses and into the back of cars, and into motorboats.

Norwegian train to airport.... umm dare I even say this? It was even cleaner and a bit more modern than some of the Swiss trains I've been on. I know this sounds like heresy but.... see that TV screen? You could watch the news on your way to the airport... sorry CFF.

Anyway, the thing with this expatriate life is that its all very well going home to visit folk, and back to the area one grew up in (in my case - Addingham). It's so nice to see relatives and friends but its not really well ....a holiday.

Not the completely chilling out stuff, pottering, reading books, bit of exploring, bit of swimming and sunbathing, doing absolutely nothing, in other words being a bit of a lazy sod.

But it was fun... in bits. Highlights included

a) the recreation of the "four Yorkshiremen" sketch from Monty Python by 'im indoors and three other Yorkshire men.

b) Sharing lots of laughs and wine with said Yorkshiremen's partners.

c) Eating great food.

d) Giggling with daughter in Harvey Nics at the campest make up demonstration we have ever seen.

e) Going to a good ol' English pub. Pubs are the one thing I do miss about living away from the UK. Particularly the Fleece in Addingham (my old haunt) and the banter from the barmaids in the Leeds Arms in Scarborough was just priceless.

Scarborough
Paradise eh ? So thats what it looks like

Who says literary standards in the UK are slipping?

I am in neither of these categories but I sat on this bench

Oslo - Changing of the guards with the silly hats

New opera house Oslo. Fab dahling, just fab.

Bliss

But going home often involves other stuff like

f) sitting in the car for hours in between visits.g) Family emotions.

h) Trying to keep to a schedule but arriving late everywhere.

i) Revisiting places you remember as a child (that you have fond memories of) and then being disappointed that they don't quite match up to your memory.

Oh well. I'm not really complaining. The last part of the holiday in Norway was pastures new. I got to spend my birthday in a restaurant up in the hills overlooking Oslo, a real treat. I was very happy indeed, and felt like the statue outside the restaurant (wish I had her figure though)

I also got to see the brand new opera house in Oslo, all white marble and designed to resemble a glacier. Marvellous.

And the final two days were definitely relaxing. Eating fresh shrimps washed down with chilled white wine as the sun went down over a Norwegian island mmm- wonderful and ok... I did get a few hours to read a book, and potter a little bit, but all too soon it was over and time to come home.

2008-08-31T14:45:00.001-07:00

Sod's law. Weather pretty rubbish most of the summer.

Folk go back to work. Children go back to school and then what happen? The sun comes out.

Geneva - lunch time today, office workers in front of the Jet D'eau.

2008-08-28T03:52:00.000-07:00

How many places in the world would you hear this?

I wanted some information on a local issue from the council so I emailed a friend to ask her who I should contact. She emailed me back with a name of a councillor. She also said, "Oh by the way, you can email him in English -he speaks six languages"............

These pics are from the archive. They are windows from the Chateau de Bossey which is near here.

Apparantly this place has seen some pretty high level peace talks going on within its walls and the windows are designed by some famous artist too. But I can't remember which big wigs were doing the talking, or the name of the artist, and I can't find my notes from the day I went. Lousy journalist aren't I?

2008-08-21T14:20:00.000-07:00

The Olympics as we've never seen them before

Blimey the Brits are winning stuff.

Not quite used to this. I'm used to "Well it's the taking part that's important" blah, blah, blah.

I've heard the Ozzies are whingeing though. They're saying us poms are only winning medals in sports where we get to sit down - rowing, sailing, cycling........

Sore losers

They do have a point though......

2008-08-19T08:45:00.001-07:00

Hmm, I guess right now it's not really another day in paradise for Phil (he lives near here you know).

He should have listened to his mama

My mama said
You can't hurry love
No, youll just have to wait
She said love don't come easy
But its a game of give and take

Or in his case, a lot more give......

2008-07-30T16:32:00.000-07:00

Am off to various points of the compass in various countries for around 10 days.

As usual, flight leaves in a few hours and I am burning midnight oil trying to get stuff done.

Dunno if I'll be able to post while I'm away but I sure as heck will have the camera with me, so I'll be able to bore you with a gazillion photos on my return.

Bet your'e waiting with baited breath....

A bientot

2008-07-29T14:14:00.000-07:00

Obama Superstar? What next, a rhinestone suit?

I am so excited, I have just received an email from Michelle Obama. She even used my name in this personal email, and she offered me the chance to go and meet hubby backstage at some big speech he is going to give in Denver. She even said she would pay to fly me from Switzerland and I could take a guest so they could meet Barack too. WOW!

Now before y'all get the impression that I am leading up to some cynical anti Democrat rant, stop there. I want to see Barack win. It would make me and a lot of Europeans as happy, as well Larry, or Hans, Pierre or Giovanni.

BUT somehow this last email leaves me feeling slightly uncomfortable. The catch with it was I would have to donate some money ($5) and be entered into a draw so I could meet the big man.

Let's rewind that eh? Pay money to see a presidential candidate? Isn't the candidate supposed to serve the people, shouldn't all this gladhanding be free? Is he a superstar now? Have I got this all wrong?

What next?

Enter a prize draw to share an "asado" with Cristina, president of Argentina?

Fill out a quiz to snuggle up with Sarkozy and for an extra donation you get to hear Carl Bruni sing?
(For a donation though she will promise to keep quiet)

Share a cup of tea and a slice of shortbread with Gordon Brown for the price of a few quid?

Doesn't seem right somehow, and that the fact that I have been getting these blanket emails now for over a year just because I signed up to a Democratic newsletter is beginning to make me a tad fed up.

First of all because they are so mass targeted, no one has actually taken the trouble to check that a) I am British, B) can't vote in US Elections and C) oh yes, I live in Switzerland.

Even if I did donate and win the prize, the chances of me getting over to Denver by the 31st July are nigh on impossible. There would be an outside chance that if Barack asked Georgy baby right now to send over Air Force One , it might make it in time to La Suisse although there wouldn't be much room for it to land outside our apartment.
Granted my daughter's bedroom does looks like it has had a weapon of mass destruction hit it recently (see previous post) so he may want to double up and send his team to investigate further but it's a bit tight on the timing.

Still can't blame them for trying and don't even get me started on the shortcomings on the funding of British politics.

I live in a country where there are seven "councillors" at the top of the government pile. The post of top dog ( president) is allocated by rotation for one year to each council member. Blanket emails asking people to pay money to meet a presidential candidate or president would be be a bit of a waste as many folk are never quite sure who the "top dog is at the time.

Just don't think it would translate over here somehow.

Ask them to pay to have the chance to meet Roger Federer? Maybe that's a different story.

2008-07-28T13:00:00.000-07:00

Three teenage girls get ready to go out.

"Health and Safety" did I hear you mumble ?(looking at those hair straightening tongs)

If this blog suddenly comes to an untimely end it is because we have all been burned in our beds.

2008-07-28T06:26:00.000-07:00

As you can see I am experimenting a bit with the look of the blog. I should be getting down to real work instead of doing such stuff. But then again I am the mistress of procrastination.

Lots to report on, as Paléo has just finished, the fabulous 6 day rock festival that takes place right here in Nyon. Take a look at my other Living in Nyon blog to read all about it.

In the meantime here's a pic of a Swiss ferry in Montreux. We went down there for the jazz festival and went on the jazz train up to Gstaad. What a grand day that was, more photos and a blog coming up.

2008-07-20T08:56:00.000-07:00

Another hard day at the office....

Last Wednesday the rest of the family were doing other stuff. Daughter on work experience in England. 'Im indoors on a ski slope somewhere (yes I know it's summer and not the ski season, but that's another story).

So I decided to ditch the office and take off, soak up a bit of sun, sit quietly in a deck chair on the ferry that goes over to Evian on the other side of the lake. The idea was to take the script I have allegedly been working on for the last millennia and add a few more words to it, progress it just that little bit further.

Fat chance.

Not only was it really busy on board, which made it difficult to concentrate, but I made the mistake of taking my camera with me. Just too many temptations to take pics and to wonder about all the folk on board.

These folk for instance. They had brought their own lunch with them, an interesting mixture of carrots and peas. I just missed a shot of the woman taking the most enormous tube of mayonnaise out of her rucksack and squeezing it all over their meal. What did that taste like?

The queue for the boat at the Nyon end. Busy. Crikey, were they all going to Evian?

Was this dog enjoying the trip snuck under the bench, after all he/she couldn't see the fabulous view ?

Would this girl see any of the view or would she sleep through the entire journey?

Would this woman ever take her hat and coat off? The temperature was in the high 20s, and there was little wind on board.

Were they having sweet dreams?

What would it be like to own one of these houses on the lake side, would I go for a quick morning dip before breakfast or would the water just be too cold?

This little boy was a delight. He sat patiently in the deckchair and sang songs to himself. Did he really want to put his shoes on and get off, or did he want to stay there happily singing away?

How many times has a member of the crew thrown this rope and it hit its target? How many times has it missed?

Did the fisherman catch any fish that day?

Did this boy think this information video on how they bottle Evian water interesting, or was he just being polite?

Would you drink the water if a bird had got its beak in there? Nice poster however

Trompe D'oeil on a wall of a man stroking a cat on a balcony. Who started all these? They are everywhere in France.

Funky shop called Kitacani with friendly owner. Did he sell anything that day apart from the postcard that I bought? We compared cameras, he said mine was better but I said wish I had his talent for design.

The massive queue in Yvoire for the return trip to Nyon. Would everybody get on board or would they be turned away?

Would the owner of these painted toenails EVER get her script finished? I think I know the answer to this one........

2008-07-14T14:32:00.000-07:00

Heaven knows we're "Les Miserables" now.

No, not Beirut, but Bastille day (July 14th) over in France, probably around four miles away from our balcony here in Switzerland (or two toothpick lengths across the Swiss desk map - the nearest measuring stick... don't ask)

2008-07-13T05:16:00.000-07:00

Being on TV. I probably did EVERYTHING wrong but........

I was pleased with the coverage and visitor numbers to "Living in Nyon" have just shot up.

I'll explain.

I have a friend who runs Media Training Courses. She has heaps of experience from years of working for the BBC and elsewhere, so her credentials come with gravitas.

Everyone who has been on her courses say she is brilliant and give you a good grounding in handling and giving media interviews. I have never been on said TV courses, mistakingly thinking I wouldn't need them. After all, it is usually me that asks the questions in interviews, and usually it's for print rather than the TV (although I have done quite a bit of radio work before).

So it was absolute sod's law that I was asked to do a short TV interview last week. The phone call came through at 16:55 for an interview timed for just after lunch the following day. No time for a last minute quick crammer from friend, so nada, rien, niente in advance preparation.

Now I knew there was nothing I could do about my French, that wouldn't suddenly improve overnight, and I did at least know that I would talking about something I am knowledgeable on (Nyon) and that (hopefully) the interview would be relaxed and friendly. This was hardly going to be an adversarial round with Stephen Sackur of Hard Talk .... but still it was publicity for the site and I didn't want to mess up.
Looking at it now I realise a few things in hindsight that I should have done and others that I shouldn't have done.

1. Not a good idea to wear white on a very bright sunny day. It made me look like death warmed up and made my eyes look very deep set.

2. Smile a lot lot more. I know I did smile quite a bit, I even made a joke, but of course as these things often are, out of a 15 minute interview only 2 mins were used and what was shown made me seem quite a serious bod indeed.

3. Get one's eyebrows shaped professionally. I look like I have two caterpillars crawling across my forehead.

4. Try not to mix up your blooming languages on camera, there's the odd Spanish word in this piece, oh gawd how embarassing.

5. Stop "jigging about" on camera. Keep Still!

Oh well, it's all a learning experience.... and no doubt my media friend will have plenty to say about it.

If you really want to, you too can cringe at the interview. It's on Sunday's 13th July's blog post from Living in Nyon (the TV link is on there)

Don't laugh too much.

2008-07-10T13:30:00.000-07:00

Banned... by my own daughter

I have been invited several times, by various people across the world to join Facebook.

But I can't take them up on their offer as I have been banned from doing so by my own daughter.

Yes I know she doesn't have to know and I don't have to tell her but..... she says the very thought that I might be on the same social networking site that she is on, and possibly at the same time too,well is just too cringeworthingly embarassing for words. So I have resisted.

I then spotted this cartoon in a back copy of a "New Yorker." As its scanned in it's not that legible. The title of the cartoon is called "Beyond the Pale"

Here's what the words say

Bad

Person over 40 with My Space Page (shows man with thinning hair) saying "Please "friend" me"

Worse

Your Dad with My Space page (shows man with moustache, glasses, old fashioned shirt, peering over laptop next to a fruitbowl), excitedly saying "Look Kevin I'm online!"

Worst

Your Dad's band with a MySpace page (shows man with thinning hair, polo neck jumper, showing the photo of his band on My Space) saying "Check this out"

Hmm... maybe shes right, and I guess as I have had to write the words down for those of my age group who may have difficulty seeing the cartoon, kinda' proves her point.

2008-07-03T14:28:00.000-07:00

20 best this, 10 best that, 40 worst this, 100 top that.

All those lists in magazines, papers, online surveys.

I usually don't bother that much with them BUT... I've just read a survey of "The 50 best songs to get you dancing" and Ike and Tina Turner's "Nut Bush City Limits" IS NOT IN THERE and NEITHER is the Rolling Stones "Start me up" and NEITHER is Chic's "Le Freak" OR Bowie's "Rebel Rebel", OR "Let's Dance". I could go on.

I mean how could they?

Or am I just a middle aged fart?

2008-06-30T06:48:00.000-07:00

They think its all over. It is now.

Nyon last night. Two young fans- waiting for that all important goal. They weren't disappointed.

Well it's been an interesting three weeks experiencing Euro 2008 here in Nyon. Lots of stuff that they predicted would happen here, just didn't. Locals were saying it would be chaos in Nyon with the lake road closed, they said there would be big trouble and we'd see soldiers on the street. None of that happened. It was such a darn, darn shame the weather wasn't great at the start and I can understand why the shopkeepers got frustrated at the fact that they couldn't open later than usual. It was a great pity too that Switzerland's team didn't make it through to the next round.

But on the whole, it was great fun. I've put heaps of photos and comments over on Living in Nyon . (30 June's post) Take a look and you'll be able to get an idea of what it was all about.

There's a tongue in cheek article in the Observer yesterday called, "Great fans, great football, bad shirts."

Under the section "Best Country - Austria or Switzerland?" It says,

"Switzerland. Nicer Accents, classier chocolate and an impressive dedication to chain smoking."

Quite. The amount of people lighting up in the public areas was astonishing but on the whole it was a great three weeks. Back to normality now and well done Spain. Viva Espana!
Think I'll make a tortilla for dinner to honour their win.

2008-06-24T12:17:00.000-07:00

Suffering from Expatitis

Just every now and again, as an expat you get a bit homesick. Doesn't happen that often to me (and of course, there's always the question where is home? ) But if we go back to basics,the real roots stuff, then it's Yorkshire for me, and more specifically, the Yorkshire Dales.

Goodness knows I live in such a drop dead gorgeous place here in Switzerland, I'm not complaining, but a combination of a few things over the past couple of days have given me a hankering, nay a yearning for the old country.

First of all, completely by default I found myself watching Countryfile last Sunday morning. On it John Craven (him of Newsround) was in Wharfedale -my country. There he was reporting from the middle of a gorgeous hay field, behind him, the most beautiful limestone walls and barns. My heart did a lurch.

Then the expat homesickness reared its head again when yesterday I simply got fed up of having to deal and work in two languages. I was trying to write an email in French and had to reply to someone and I had no idea whether they were male or female. I couldn't reply just "Dear" because even the "Cher" part here has to be blooming conjugated.

Then today I just couldn't think of the word for ice cube tray and was at pains to get the guy in the supermarket to understand me. He directed me first to the ice cones, and then to the freezer section. Not his fault I know but I thought "Oh blow it, forget it," so I left.

Just for a moment I wished I was back in my own country where I didn't need to speak another language. It was only fleeting but it was there.

Then today I got into an email correspondence with someone who is lucky enough to live in the Yorkshire Dales. They started talking about all the familiar places that are so dear to me Addingham, Arnclife, Kilnsey, Malham, Grassington, Buckden, Beamsley Beacon, when they went on to talk about the pubs and all the other things I knew, then my heart missed another beat.

I then started reading the Dalesman just to make things worse for myself, just to turn the knife in the wound a bit more and to make myself really and truly homesick.

I don't have any digital pics to put on here to show you, but take a look at the one from the editor of the Dalesman from the 5th of June. It will give you an idea of what I mean.

Or remember that scene in the film Calendar Girls where they are practising Tai Chi amid glorious scenery? That's also what I am talking about.

And if that still doesn't mean much to you then let me quote a paragraph from Bill Bryson's book "Notes from a Small Island." He lived in the Yorkshire Dales at one stage, and after he had been away for a while he wrote this;

"We drove over the tops, a winding, 6 mile drive of unutterable loveliness, up on the Wuthering Heights like expanses around Kirby Fell with boundless views of Northern Glory and then began the descent into the serene, cupped majesty of Malhamdale. Halfway down, I had my wife stop the car by a field gate. My favourite view in the world is there and I got out to have a look.You can see almost the whole of Malhamdale sheltered and snug beneath steep imposing hills with its arrow straight drystone walls climbing up imposssibly ambitious slopes, its clustered hamlets."

He goes on, "It all looked so peaceful and wonderful I could have cried"

So could I. I know exactly what he meant.

It will pass, I will be fine tomorrow. Just let me wallow in it for a wee while.

2008-06-20T13:11:00.000-07:00

Ooh, you smell lovely, what perfume is that?

If only they knew

Sometimes it's just not worth buying budget products

I rest my case m'lud

Local supermarket toilet cleaner v Budget shower gel

Smells the same, consistency and looks, the same. They are even the same blooming colour.

Next time I want a shower and I've run out of gel, I know what to use.

Same applies when I clean the loo.

2008-06-12T05:52:00.000-07:00

Hot news! New Blog !

For those of you have pointed out that previous posts on the Perpetual Expatriate haven't been so prolific (alliteration rules!), there's a good reason for it.

It's because I have been working away on another blog called Living in Nyon

It's a blog for expats who either live in Nyon or are thinking of coming to live here. Because I love this place I have tried to share my enthusiam for it by creating a site in English and adding helpful info. The pics on this post are from last night in the town when there were two big football matches on. There's even more on the new site.

At the moment, the blog, promoting it, and the footy (Euro 2008 ) is pretty much taking over, so if there nothing on here, then switch over and you should find something of interest on the new blog. Normal service should be resumed round about July.

2008-06-09T19:19:00.000-07:00

In Technological Black Hole

Am fiddling and footling around trying to add a new banner image and getting nowhere. Alice Baudat a writer/novelist from the Geneva Writers' Group has drawn two great illustrations for this blog. Many, many thanks Alice. She often can be found with pencil and sketchpad recording what she sees. Take a look at another of her pics during our Writers' Conference.

Anyway here I am in this pic sat on a suitcase and typing away. Alice has also done another with me surrounded by all the possessions and paraphanelia that living in different countries bring. But can I get it into into a banner image? Can I heck.

Don't know what I'm doing wrong, maybe it's because it's a scan instead of a photo. Anyway, if any of you techy wizards out there have any clever ideas if you could let me know, I'd be most grateful. This illustration shows me typing away and smiling. At the moment its more of a frustrated grimace until I get this blooming problem sorted......

Oh, and the word footling? I just invented it.

2008-06-08T07:47:00.001-07:00

"Distressed British National" and George Clooney.

It's been one of those days when everything I have attempted to do and work on, well just hasn't got done or ..worked on.

The flight I am trying to book seems to be stuck half way through the booking, the picture I am trying to add try text to, won't let me add text to it.

The passport renewal from I need to complete has come to a grinding halt.

I thought I had a couple of spare mugshot photos kicking around, but I can't find them. Even if I could, they probably wouldn't meet the strict new guidelines you need to follow for these new fangled biometric passports. The bit that says no shadows on the photos would be tricky to comply with. The shadows/bags under my eyes after four late nights in a row would automatically reject me from any application process. Some official over at the British Consulate would be justified in sending the photo back and scrawling over it "Get a good night's sleep first".

I notice that on the "notes on payment", it says "A Consular premium is included in the fee to provide consular assistance to distressed British nationals"

Well I feel pretty distressed right now, what do you think they'd give me to ease my crappy Sunday? The absolute worst part of the day is that I realise I have missed the deadline to apply to participate in the filming of the next George Clooney Nespresso film. The prize would have been.

"A once in a lifetime opportunity to participate as an extra in the three-day shoot of a Nespresso worldwide advertising campaign, starring George Clooney"

"Three nights accommodation at one of Milan's leading design hotels"

"Business class air travel or first class train travel (depending on your location) to Milan"

Bugger

Mind you, you had to send a photo in for that as well.

Georgy baby would have been well justified in sending my pic back and scrawling across it

"What were you thinking? "

Oh and the title of the pic? "Hanging on in there". Tenuous I realise but what the heck.

2008-05-31T05:04:00.000-07:00

A Warning to Parents of Young Children

(Feminists, Look away now.)

Once upon a time there a little girl who used to wear shoes like this....

Shoes just 5 inches in length from heel to tiny toe. Soft little white and pink leather shoes with an ever so cute little puppy on the heel.

When the little girl was out in her pushchair she would pull them off and throw them on the floor and then giggle as she watched her mummy and daddy bend down lots of times to pick them up and then put them back on her tiny toes and retie the laces.

A few years later the little girl went to school. She now wore shoes made of hard leather and they came with shiny buckles. The shoes were carefully fitted by a lady in a shoe shop to make sure they didn't hurt her growing feet. Every Sunday night her mummy or daddy would polish the shoes and lay them next to her school uniform.

By Friday night the little girl would come home from school with very scuffed shoes indeed. She would kick them off and put on weekend shoes, or she would pull on wellies and she'd play outside and run in the garden and splash in puddles. Once a week she put on some pretty shoes with silk pink ribbons and went to ballet class and she danced around with the other little girls in their soft leather ballet shoes.

A few years later the little girl was no longer little and she started to wear shoes that remained in a permanent state of disrepair and were never, ever polished. Shoes that came in canvas and were called Converse. The RIGHT kind of Converse, the RIGHT design and with the RIGHT kind of scruffiness.

A few years later the little girl who now was no longer little (and was much taller than her mummy) went to Italy for the weekend. Her mummy and daddy left her in a street in the centre of Genoa to window shop while they looked round the city with some very good American friends and their very nice Genovese Italian friend. He showed them the palaces, and the magnificent streets, and as they went round the city he explained the history and all about Genoa.

Later on, the little girl joined them for lunch. While everyone else was talking about the city, and how wonderful it was, and whether to have pasta or fish or risotto, all the little girl could talk about was a pair of shoes she had seen in a shop. They were red and suede and she simply MUST buy them and she HAD to go back to the shop to get them.

After an exquisite lunch everyone began gently walking through the narrow winding streets. Her mummy wanted to stop and take photos, her Daddy wanted to stroll and admire the archictecture, but the little girl was anxious and she began walking fast and speeded everyone up. She was worried that someone else might buy THE SHOES and she wanted to get to the shop.

So they all arrived at the shoe shop but it was very loud, and very noisy and very busy so the American friends and the Italian man and the little girl's dad stayed outside while she went in with her mummy. What the little girl had forgot to tell her mummy was that THE red shoes had a five inch heel and cost a LOT of money. But the little girl had got her own money and she wanted to buy them.

So she did.

And she came out of the shop with a VERY big smile on her face and opened the shoe box to show to everybody waiting outside. As she pulled the red five inch heeled shoes out of the tissue the Americans exclaimed,

"Oh my goodness, how are you going to walk in those?"

Her mummy nodded in agreement with the American friends.

Her mummy also reminded the little girl that she was supposed to be saving her money for her summer holiday and hadn't these shoes just blown her savings?

Her daddy didn't say anything, but his face said, "Oh no, what happened to my little girl?"

The Italian took one look at the shoes and smiled.

A big smile that couldn't see any problem.

A smile that came with a glint in his eye and a conspiratorial wink with the little girl.

He knew the little girl was no longer a little girl and his smile said "these shoes are what women should wear, this is how it is supposed to." He approved.

The little girl looked very happy indeed.

The little girl wears THE shoes round the house, she click-clacks across the parquet looking at herself in the mirror, waiting for the right occasion to wear them. The shoes with the five inch heels sit in her room and hold pride of place.

When the little girl's mummy goes into her room (either to to retrieve three day old coffee cups or open the blinds or collect dirty washing), she looks at the shoes with the five inch heels. She remembers when her little girl's entire shoe measured exactly five inches......

It only seemed like yesterday.

Lucy, Justine, Sher, Marrisa, Mighty Mum, Nicola and, Jenny,

Take Heed. It will happen to you. You have been warned.

2008-05-26T14:31:00.000-07:00

Two things that tickled my fancy recently

1. The sight of this red mini with pink and red flowers in the passenger seats (spotted in the car park of the garden centre)

and 2. The posting about bumper stickers on Stuffwhitepeoplelike

(Thanks Sher for alerting me to this blog, you are right, it's a bit near the knuckle at times, but boy, did I laugh out loud)

2008-05-20T13:40:00.000-07:00

Playing to the same tune. Global bloggers.

Much has been written about the convivial nature of blogging. How one ends up making virtual friends all over the place. 'Tis so true. This week I have been contacted by quite a few folk in Switzerland, non bloggers and bloggers across the world and it's been quite delightful. I've linked a few of those folk too, so welcome to This Non American Life, Mamacita Chilena, My Blue Streak, Pam in Greece, and Camille en Suisse (who isn't actually here yet but will be soon).

On the latter one, it's interesting and refreshing to read the enthusiasm of someone about to embark on an expat adventure. I'd quite forgotten what it's like, I have been in this country longer THAN ANYWHERE, that this blog is in danger of becoming retitled "The Permanent Expatriate."

But in linking these new folk I had a bit of a cunundrum. As the list is now getting longer it needs a bit of order to it, so how should it be prioritised? Top billing to Switzerland and where I am at the moment, or should it be the country that I was born in and am still very proud of ? Should I give precedence to the people I know personally and have met in the flesh?

Germany comes before Portugal in the alphabetic stakes, but I was reading Lucy before Jul, so chronological order would be fair. Should New Zealand go at the bottom down under? .......or Chile?

As ever, these things are decided simply by how lazy I am and what time of night it is.

It's late now, so for the moment, Mighty Mum is at the top and Making Photographs is at the bottom, not by any pecking order whatsoever, just because I can't be fagged to do anything about it.

However if you are on there and you object to said order, just send a cheque payable to me for a few thousand quid and you'll go right to the top of the list.

These photos by the way are taken from the underpass on the way to the Conservatoire of Music (below) in Nyon.

Even the graffiti is classy in our part of town.

2008-05-15T00:31:00.000-07:00

Gordon Ramsay , Marco Pierre White , eat your heart out. A big bah sucks to poncey piled up pretentious food.

Don't get me wrong, I like me' posh nosh from time to time. It's nice to have a chance to put on a frock, have a napkin placed on a lap by a penguin dressed waiter, white linen, sparkling crystal, blah blah, and all that paraphenelia. But you don't need to spend a fortune and contribute to a famous chef's bank balance to eat well. Neither do you need a fancy menu or restaurant created by a design agency.

Nope, you just need good food, a hand written menu, a friendly waitress and in our case spend just 60 euros for 5 people which included starters for 3 people, main course for all 5, salads, good house wine, beer, and 3 desserts. And guess what ? We heard no shouting from the kitchen nearby, no bullying of staff. Ramsay take note.

Tablecloths drying outside. Cucina Casalinga ( Home cooked food)

Lunch Italian Style

Restaurant Trattoria da Maria, Vico Testadoro, 14r Genova. Tel: 010 58 1090

There's no website, they don't need one, but here what the
New York Times said about it and an interview with the founder (in Italian).

2008-05-12T14:33:00.000-07:00

Just when we thought it was going so well.

I was going to write that not all motorway journeys are dull.

The road trip between Sta Margherita (Liguria -Italy) through France and onto Nyon in Switzerland is around five to six hours long and there are 75 tunnels to go through.

But as journeys go, it's a good one and you can get some spectacular scenery along the way. Castles, glaciers, pretty villages, and even good quality coffee served in the Italian motorway service stations.

If you throw in some great car music, for example, "Od Veshoma" from Oi Va Voi (don't know what the heck they're singing about, but boy is this one of my favourite albums) or anything from A todo Cuba le gusta by the Afro Cuban Old Stars, then it makes it into a positively great road trip.

Even the colour of the Italian petrol pumps were pretty

Until ....

you get to the sign thats says there's a two hour wait to go through the Mont Blanc tunnel

You see that long brown canopy in the distance? Yup that's the entrance to the tunnel and this is where we were.
Then it becomes a bit boring. Thats when you wish you had packed something else to eat, more music for the car and that you were a man and could nip behind a bush for a pee.

Still it had been very good three days away so we didn't complain too much.

Blog on it with pics to follow soon.

P.S Excuse the spots on the photos, they are from the windscreen, not the camera.

2008-05-04T08:21:00.000-07:00

Interesting signs: Switzerland and England

1. Don't get trapped in an egg timer? Don't enter if you've ever been on the London Eye?

All answers welcome

2."Interesting Jukebox" Instead of what? Boring jukebox?

"Relaxed attitude Free" Didn't know you had to pay for a relaxed attitude. I'm pretty chilled right now and it 'aint costing me anything.

2008-04-26T14:51:00.000-07:00

The 2,000 metre office. Not much work done.

So it's over. Seven days of watching documentaries, discussing films and writing reviews. It was good, although tiring and cabin fever had begun to set in somewhat. So, when D asked me if I wanted to join him going to Chamonix for the day, I jumped at it. I took the laptop along thinking I would catch up on emails and do a bit of blogging while he skied.

Fat chance. All you want to do up there is soak up the sun and admire the view. And what a day for a view. Did I even bother to open up the laptop? ..........Nah, only to pretend typing for the pic on the right.

Alps in wing mirror

2008-04-19T00:39:00.001-07:00

Bilingual blooper

A friend phoned me early last Sunday morning.

"Oh hi Catherine, so sorry to derange you"

Nice one.

Friend lives a completely bilingual life (in French and English)

She had obviously been thinking in French when she phoned.

"Déranger" in French means "to disturb."

But the English version was much more appropriate for yours truly

It's very busy so I am a little deranged.

I am not blogging as I am sat in darkened cinemas in Nyon for the documentary film festival.

I''m writing about the films for Geneva Lunch (not all of them as there are 150) but boy is it interesting, boy is it great fun. I love it, but this and another project I have going on, is making me just a tad deranged right now.

Lots to blog about but it's going to be a few days until I do.

Go put the kettle on or something.

2008-04-13T11:15:00.000-07:00

The women are complaining but the men aren't.......

The Swiss supermarket chain Migros has just launched a new advertising campaign for their underwear, using real customers.

One of their adverts for lingerie appeared this week on the platform of my local railway station.

Someone has scrawled on the stomach "Women are not objects!"

Here's the mens advert for undies (appropriately.. in the underpass of the railway station.)

There's no graffiti on their torsos.

Interesting...................

2008-04-07T02:37:00.000-07:00

Our lips are sealed. No paparazzi wanted here.

Sunday afternoon. D and I are working away at home. Text comes through on my mobile from daughter. "Back around 16:30 Lots of stories to tell."

Too right she had.

She had been invited away for the weekend with a friend and friend's parents to a well known ski resort. It's nearly the end of the ski season so lots of her friends from Geneva and Nyon were up there and everyone was in party mood. Said daughter goes to her favourite club.

Somehow gets to chat to VERY famous rock/pop star. Gets invited on to another nightclub with him and his entourage. Is with him for a LONG time and as I understand it, dances with him (and gets to kiss him too). He asks her for her mobile number.

Blimey. Her street cred is at an all time high with friends. Blimey again.

I have been trying to think of the first famous person I saw when I was younger. I think it was either Jeremy Thorpe of the (now defunct Liberal Party) maybe it was David Steele I'm not sure. Anyway my mum dragged me along to listen to one of them speak when he came to a nearby town. The other famous person was Jimmy Savile, who I saw once jogging along the road in Yorkshire. Now even though at the time, Mr Savile was probably at the height of his fame, there was not much street cred in him or either of those politicians, and let's face it, you certainly wouldn't have wanted to snog them.

As for meeting a rock star growing up in a small Yorkshire village, well that would have been as likely as a Martian landing.

Thankgoodness daughter has her head screwed on and realises that said famous rock star person is probably not going to call her. Her Dad listened quietly to her story while working away on his laptop.

All he had to say was: "Did you tell him (the rock star) my Dad doesn't really like your music?"

Ouch

Daughter tried to appease us by saying "He (famous person) was very nice, kind and ...there weren't any photographers there that night, it was all very discreet."

Thank God for that

Stories to tell indeed. Oh and did she do any skiing on said weekend away? Did she heck.

2008-04-06T22:54:00.000-07:00

Four days in London..

Many years ago I used to live and work in London. I loved it.

Whether it was in my single days living in Belsize Park, Islington, or Camden Town, or married in the dinkie days (double income, no kids days) when we lived in Maida Vale. Or when we lived in Guildford and Kingston and joined the band of commuters travelling up from Surrey. Life was good.

Happy days. Different days. Heady days.

It was the height of the, Gordon Gekko period. The city boys were laughing all the way to the bank and I went to work with a passport and toothbrush. The company I worked for often sent us away on a last minute trip abroad. D often came back from his own work trips to find a note from me in our hallway saying "Am in Athens or Copenhagen etc". I had a pretty good expense account too and had a great time at Christmas wining and dining our most cherished clients (well, the ones we had to suck up to most).

It seems a world away now and it was.

So although I have been back many times, it's either been through work or rushing through on the way to see friends on the outskirts of the city.

Two weeks ago I went back as a tourist to show teenage daughter what it is like. London is one of the places she has on her list for university. However she doesn't know the capital so I went to show her what it's like. Showed her my old haunts.
Showed her where her dad worked and how either he would walk over the bridge and meet me for a drink in Covent Garden (where I worked), or I used to walk over the bridge in the other direction and meet around or in the Royal Festival Hall for a drink at his side of the river.

But this time daughter and I did the whole tourist thing.

1.Trafalgar square. MUCH better now its pedestianised

2. Went to see the Vanity Fair Portraits in The National Portrait Gallery (interesting but not worth the £10 entrance fee)

3. Went down to the Laws Courts and Temple and then past the Royal Courts of Justice. Went past Fleet Street etc.

4.Went to the Houses of Parliament, couldn't get in to Prime Minister's question time but we did get up into the public gallery and listened to a dullish debate on transport policy. Daughter loved it all and the whole history of the palace of Westminister.

Free entertainment at the House of Commons

4. Went down the Kings Road. Where have all the punks gone?

5. Went to the theatre three times and saw;

Alan Bennetts History Boys Absolutely superb. The créme de la créme of acting. Lovely theatre fab, fab evening ( I am a BIG Bennett fan).

Chicago Bit disappointed. I loved the film but felt in this production they were kind of going through the motions, as it had a long run and this was just another show. Maybe I was also disappointed because it's not just what goes on stage that's part of going to the theatre for me. It's the dressing up a little, going to an elegant theatre, pre-theatre drinks all that stuff etc. The staff that served the drinks and sold the programmes were scruffy. The theatre was scruffy. There was loads of Chicago merchandise on sale, it was just one big business. No sense of occasion and we were herded out quickly afterwards. When you've paid a small fortune for the tickets, then it matters. Maybe I was out of sorts because it had been a long day and it started to rain (it threw it down) as we made our way to the theatre, so we sat in our seats snuffling. Maybe I was just jealous of the VERY long, legs of the girls in the chorus. Who knows.

Billy Elliot SUPERB, SUPERB. Absolutely brilliant. The story set in Tyneside with the miners strike around the time of the struggle against Thatcher's government, was all happening at the same time that I was swanning around with my expense account in yuppie London. As I am from the north I was aware of what was happening (unlike many of my colleagues who thought the "North" was a foreign country and had never set foot in it.)

Billy Elliot: Worth every penny of this show

Anyway Billy Elliot ended a great time in London. It's a great city.

It's also a blooming expensive one. In 4 days we spent well over £1,000 with tickets, flights accommodation etc. D and I are crossing our fingers that London doesn't become top of teenage daughter's Uni list. Financially it will be a nightmare for us, and as a student very difficult for her.

But.... then why deny her the chance to live in such a great place, just like we did?

2008-03-29T03:19:00.000-07:00

Am I turning into an old fogey?

Because I am now starting to notice statues, and take photos of them? 20 years ago I wouldn't have given them the time of day.

Although admittedly it would have been hard to miss this fabulous nine metre tall one at the new St Pancras International .

and I did like this one of John Betjeman
The station is great and I would have liked to spend longer there but was short on time.

The champagne bar looked very tempting too... but 11:00 a.m is a tad early for bubbly, even for me.

I've made a pact with a friend (who lives in Scotland and who was the first to rave about the newly opened station) that the next time she is London, she will take the train from St Pancras to Paris and I will take the TGV from Geneva to Paris and we'll meet for lunch and champagne.

Perfectly possible.

Back to statues though. I also came across this one, snuck away in a courtyard somewhere off Chancery Lane. Probably my favourite of all. If I ever come into a lot of money I think I'd like to commission a statue. I don't know what it would be of, but it would be fun and yes, I know that sounds very middle aged, but what the heck, it comes to us all one day.

2008-03-24T06:00:00.000-07:00

Can you see that pig flying across the Nyon sky?

Photo Nyon Friday 28 March '08

Just did a quick peruse of my junk email box to see if any untoward emails have been misdirected and are lurking in there. Perhaps there's one from the editor of the New Yorker desperately needing an essay written. Maybe some film producer has got whiff of the fact that I am writing a screenplay and wants first rights to it with a million buck advance in the offing.

You never know. Alas there wasn't much but I did get this interesting communication (below). Now as I'm off to Londinium tomorrow maybe I should pop in and see "Mrs Elena Owen."

From Mrs. Elena Owen
London, W8 5DL,
4 Kensington Court,
England.

I am Mrs. Elena Owen, a citizen of Bulgaria but I based in England, I am married to Sir Francis Owen who also is an Englishman though dead now. My husband worked with the British Railways for over two decade before the cold hand of death took him away on the 3rd of June 2005 at about 2:00AM our marriage lasted for over a decade without any fruit of the womb.

My husband died after a protracted illness. My husband and I made a vow to uplift the down-trodden and the less-privileged individuals within the Europe, North and South America, Africa and the rest of the Globe as he had passion for persons who cannot help hemselves due to physical disability or financial predicament. I can adduce this to the fact that he needed a Child from this relationship, which never came.

When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of (Seventeen Million Seven Hundred Thousand United State Dollars in a dormant Account in one of the leading security and Finance company in Europe. this money is still with the Finance Company. Presently, am suffering from cancerous ailment for some years now. Recently, my Doctor told me that I have a limited or numbered days on earth and that my life Spam will not exceed 150days due to the cancerous problems I am suffering from.

Though what bothers me most is the stroke that I have in addition to the cancer. With this hard reality that has befallen my family, I have decided to donate this fund to a non-governmental, or better still an individual, that will utilize this money the way I am going to instruct here in., that will use this gift which comes from my husbands sweat to fund the upkeep of widows, orphans, destitute, the down-trodden, physically challenged children, barren-women and persons who prove to be genuinely handicapped financially. It is often said that blessed is the hand that gives.

I took this decision because I do not have any child that will inherit this money and my husband relatives are Bourgeois and very wealthy persons and I do not want my husband hard earned money to be misused by his relatives whom have already sold all his landed property. I do not want a situation where this money will be used in an ungodly manner, hence the reason for taking this bold decision. I am not afraid of death hence I know where I am going.

I know that I am going to be with the Almighty when I eventually pass on.The Almighty will fight my case and I shall hold my peace. I do not need any telephone communication in this regard due to my deteriorating health and because of the presence of my husband relatives around me. I do not want them to know about this development. With God all things are possible.

I will want you to contact my personal attorney base in Manchester (U.K) on the information stated below, whom I have entrusted every detail regarding this fund.

Name: Barr. Joseph Alford Esq.

I would be very interested to see if she has defied her doctor's "life Spam" and is still around or whether the "cold hand of death" has now taken her. I know I am neither a widow, an orphan, destitute or down-trodden, neither am I a barren-woman, but as she contacted me personally and me alone, I would be quite happy to help her out of her angst and relieve her of the $17, 700,000 all created by her husband's "sweat" (all made while working for British Rail too, wow)

Anyway I am sure I could put that money to good use. I'll keep you posted. (I've removed the email address that brought me this wonderful news just in case you want to contact Mrs Owen and get your grubby hands on the money yourself. No chance, I was there first). I'll return to blogging at the weekend but of course by then I'll be SO stinking rich I'll be able to pay someone else to blog for me.

2008-03-21T08:34:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of Spring. Tra la la

Can you see the lambs gambolling and frollicking in the sun and the fields?

It's also World Water Day . Plenty of that here in frozen form but there's not enough for folk in other countries.

It is also International Year of the Potato

We'll celebrate it by having crisps (potato chips) with our beer before dinner.

2008-03-18T10:28:00.000-07:00

*Coals to Newcastle?

Cadburys are moving to Switzerland. Their European office is going to be in Rolle, a few miles from here.

Blimey.

Love the headline in our local paper. "The king of chewing gum sticks its seat on Rolle."

King of chewing gum eh? Back in Blighty we would probably say king of Cadburys Flake bars, king of "Creme eggs", drinking chocolate, and much other delish stuff we all grew up with.

But I guess here in La Suisse they could hardly say "King of Chocolate" now could they?

*Coals to Newcastle is a British saying, meaning "to take goods to a place where there are already plenty of them." The origin of this is that Newcastle-upon-Tyne was once an important coal mining centre.

2008-03-16T02:12:00.000-07:00

Reasons to be cheerful (homage to Ian Drury *) on a sunny March day

The last bleak posting brought quite a few sad emails, folk empathising with my general malaise.

What a difference a day makes. 24 hours later the sun came out.

I walked down to the lake and passed all the fountains in Nyon. Each Easter they are decorated by local groups, primary schools and voluntary organisations. What warmed the cockles of my heart was not just that the sun was shining, but that in the six years I have lived here, I have never seen these fountains vandalised, they are left there for two weeks, giving pleasure to me and lots of others.

Look at this one below. Decorated by the local childrens club all they used were the tops of painted plastic bottles. Effective eh?

Ages since I've listened to Mr Drury, I put the "Best Of" album on the other night. Marvellous.

2008-03-11T12:27:00.000-07:00

Three reasons to get fed up on a wet March day (part homage to Joni Mitchell ) in the following three posts

Number One.

"They paved paradise and put up a parking lot....."

Summer 2007 A small plot of land behind our apartment. Our neighbour (retired farmer) rented the land and worked on it. He grew veggies for his family and friends.
March 2008 Same plot. The place was sold and has just been made into a car park. The neighbour looks lost now with no land to work on. Continued...

2008-03-11T12:24:00.000-07:00

Number Two (still with Joni in mind)

"Don't it always seem to go,that you don't know what you’ve got til it’s gone"

Feel a bit guilty about this one. These three local shops in Nyon are within a few metres of each other and all have just announced they are closing. I know I didn't use them enough.

The Chemist
I never really used this chemist, in my defence I go to another that is closer to me. But "Droguerie de la Gare" has been around for years and there was an uproar in the town when it announced its was closing down.

The Electrical shop

The electrical shop had the friendliest staff and I've bought Hoover bags, lightbulbs and batteries etc from them, but the prices for the big goods were, well.. sky high. I remember going into ask about buying a juicer, and was taken aback by the cost. That same week our local Co-op was selling a juicer at a reduced price with your Co-op points, and as I had a stack of them I used them up, probably adding another nail in the coffin to the survival of local shops. Like vultures circling, folk are now going to the electrical shop buying up all the cheap stock as there are three days left until they close for good.

The Greengrocer

The lady who ran this was due to retire anyway, but it still seems sad. It's a global problem too, local shops trying to compete against the big supermarkets who stell stuff much cheaper. I'm sure the Bedside Crow would agree (check his posts of 6 and 10 March)

I do hope they keep the old sign above the chemist and not replace it with a garish neon thing.
If they do then it will be partly my fault and Joni would have been right all along. Continued..

2008-03-11T10:31:00.000-07:00

Number Three

And on how to get more than a little fed up

You are on a writing deadline for 17:00 and at 15:30 you go into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. You then accidentally knock over not only a two litre bottle of olive oil, but, for good measure a bottle of balsamic vinegar as well ... all over the kitchen floor.

The glass went EVERYWHERE. Despite me washing the floor twice, it still smells of blooming salad dressing.

2008-03-08T14:18:00.000-08:00

Just spotted this in London's "Time Out" magazine......

Bit naughty, but nice eh?

Way back in another century I used to *work in Oban tourist board on the west coast of Scotland. The area round there is beautiful, and near Easdale it is simply GORGEOUS.

In Oban I loved walking past the ferries sailing over to Mull or watching the seals swim in the harbour on my way to work. It's a nice place but.. now don't get me wrong, but when I was there, well it was a sleepy one (pop: around 8,000?) and I imagine it still is.

So questions from tourists and usually Americans ones (sorry D-L, Trish, Patti, Bob ) such as "Where is it safe to walk around here? Any no go areas? " what do you say?

Well, you smile sweetly of course and tell them the truth, that it is safe and peaceful pretty much anywhere in the area.

But boy.. it was tempting to tell them to avoid the crackhouses up by McCaig's Folly and not to go near the redlight district behind Mctavishes kitchen.

* I worked in the tourist board and as an auxilary coastguard and in a playgroup. Three jobs all at once, all to keep the wolf from the door.