Tipple

I can't say I miss drinking a huge amount. When Frog has been at various dégustations I have taken the odd surreptitious sip (you can't say no to trying Mumm's Blanc de Blancs) but that suffices as I move back to the fruit juice.

However, this weekend we went to a wedding in the countryside just outside Troyes in the Aube. It's only an hour and a half drive further south, and in the extreme of the Champagne Ardennes, but we felt the change in the temperature by a couple of degrees and felt like we were in another region.

The wedding was in a beautiful little church and was the most chaotic service I've ever experienced. After the sortie (which was never an official end to the service, more like get up when you're bored with what the priest is saying about the signing of the registers), everyone piled back to the bride's family house. And what a house. It was a huge old redbrick pile in the grounds of an old mill, complete with river, weir, 'beach' and magnificent garden. The garden and marquee were decked out for a '1001 Nights' style and we ate couscous, tagines, salads and sweet pastries.

So, to the booze. The champagne was served (the Aube is part of the Champagne AOC and known for its Pinot Noir) which was no great loss to me as I took the mint tea. Then we sat down for dinner and I spotted the magnum bottles of Pomerol 1975 on every table. Very unfair. I took a sip from Frog and even he (who's not a red fan) quaffed away happily all night.

I did, however, feel slightly virtuous the next day when Frog emerged having spent most of the night being ill after over indulgence in food and drink. Yes, I felt a little smug!

Surprise!

The last week has been a bit of a blur. Within the space of five nights, I'd stayed in three different hotels in different countries. All rather lovely hotels, so I'm not complaining there and we had a great weekend in Amsterdam for a surprise birthday party. Frog and I splashed out on a fancy shmancy hotel and lived the high life for a couple of nights.

Yesterday, this lovely lady came for the afternoon, so that was like another mini-holiday showing the sights. And then today I had to get back down to some work.

I had a little break later this afternoon for my five month check up at the doctors. Apart from the fact that my doctor has the limpest hand shake I've ever experienced, I really like her. She's gentle but a little 'business like' at times but I prefer that and to be honest needed it with the miscarriages last year.

So, this time, for the first time I headed off without Frog for my check up. "Did I tell you the sex last time?", she asked. "Yes, you said you were 90% sure that it was a girl". Frog had been a little disappointed as he was hoping for a little boy to play football with. However, he'd been on the phone to his best mate in Lyon who had a baby girl last year who raved about being the 'hero dad' to his little girl.

"Ahh, well I hope you haven't put the wallpaper up yet - because it's a boy. Definitely a boy."

I actually feel a little thrown by this! We had a lovely girl's name all picked out and I've been referring to "she" who kicks a lot at the moment. It's all the same to me in the end - I'm happy if it's healthy - but I don't know a thing about little boys. We were all girls in my family!! I know girls get sulky and tantrummy and are supposed to be harder. But I consider myself an expert on 'little madam' type behaviour!

So, it's now on with the thinking caps for a boys name that works in English and French. I'm going to have to spend the next day or so adjusting!

London

I spent the last two nights on a flying visit to London with Frog. One of his importers had invited him to attend a tasting he'd organised with a select group of small winemakers from around the world attending. The first evening was a private event in a swanky private club in Mayfair. We'd arrived directly from the ferry and did the quick freshen up and change in the loo thing (yes, very glamorous). The second evening was a public event held in the basement of a bar/restaurant next to the Barbican.

I have to say Tuesday evening was more engaging in terms of tastings - it was a fairly wealthy group who had paid to be there and were really interested in the champagnes. It's not really work for me because it's talking about something that's not my day to day business but that I appreciate and can sound fairly knowledgeable on now. The 'punters' enjoy it because they get to meet the winemaker in person rather than some big house label bought from Tescos (or more likely Waitrose in these cases!).

The second evening was quieter in terms of attendance except for when about sixteen of Frog and my friends turned up! The only reason we got through more bottles that night was because we were enjoying a coupe with our mates. I got to catch up with my sister, and seven other friends, some of whom I hadn't seen since the wedding. A couple of Frog's friends arrived a little early to announce their engagement, which of course meant another few coupes in celebration! Frog's friends also included a group of ex-colleagues using the event as a sort of reunion. Some of those he hadn't seen since he left London six years ago. I think they were rather shocked to hear his once well balanced London accent having mutated into a more traditional French bloke's tone that the last few years have given him.

Yesterday morning was spent shopping in M&S for some 'essentials'. Unfortunately, I left my bank card behind when paying which will mean hassle and admin today in ordering a new one from my local bank. I also met my best friend from school and her 6 month old, who does nothing but smile and gurgle, for lunch in a shockingly modernised Spitalfields (what happened to the grunge??).

So, we're home now. I'm pretty shattered to tell the truth but working in my pyjamas whilst the Germans are on holiday for the day, I might get to catch up on some work.

Asperges

I spent last week in a three day, heatwave, whirlwind trip around three German places: from the far north of Hamburg to the south west Frankfurt and Karlsruhe. I'm afraid that, other than the building complex I had a meeting in, the only thing I could note about Karlsruhe is that it's twinned with Nottingham and Nancy. But the sun shone and whilst I waited for another colleague to finish inside my assistant and I had a sunny sandwich and impromptu status meeting on a bench.

Hamburg is my German base and a lovely city. I hope that when I go there for one week (in two weeks time) that the weather is as beautiful and I can enjoy the Alster lakes properly.

An overnight trip to Frankfurt was my first time in the city. Actually (as is often the case) I didn't make it to the city centre but was based in a dorf just outside where our agency's offices are. We stayed in a very eccentric B&B and after a full day of meetings were invited out to dinner by the agency team. There were six of us, all women, including one colleague from the international team that I first met in 2000 and despite my moves from London, New York, Paris and Reims and hers from London to Copenhagen, we've always kept in touch. In fact she was the person to give me my first freelance project last year.

We headed towards what I was told was a typical Frankfurt restaurant. I'll admit my prejudices conjured up some dark, smokey restaurant and I wasn't over optimistic about the cuisine. Once we had made it past Gerty, a sprightly 85 year old woman in charge of the parking spaces, we headed into a large garden area packed with locals and decorated with twinkling lights as dusk fell. Our orders were taken by a middle aged, mustachioed man who was more interested in giving us his opinion rather than taking any orders. I have to say it was the best meal I've enjoyed in a while. We were served local apfelwein and the seasonal speciality asparagus. Here in Frankfurt, as in the Champagne Ardennes, the asparagus is the large, thick, juicy white variety that I had never tasted until I came to Reims. The asparagus (or spargel) was the centre piece of the dish with the schnitzel, new potatoes and hollandaise sauce served as sides. Dessert was what I can only describe as what tiramisu would be if it's main ingredient was apple.

So that was my list of firsts - Frankfurt, asparagus of the season and my first al fresco dinner of the year.

Winter Stroll

Champagne
Originally uploaded by oiseau.

I've been a little bit neglectful (again) of the blog. But I have no apologies to offer. I've taken a step back from everything in the last month and just tried to 'go with the flow' (cue much guffawing from anyone who knows me and my controlling tendencies).

You might be forgiven for thinking the photo above is from our holidays in the south-eastern Var but we haven't left yet. The photo is from our three hour walk around the village yesterday. It was incredibly mild weather with a bright sun and blue sky. I saw catkins, rosehips and blossoms during our stroll. Which doesn't seem right for the beginning of February. You can see the set of photos here.

Since I last posted we have zipped from Reims to London, back to Reims, onto Brussels and across to Amsterdam for different wine fairs. I seem to have collected a nice little culture of germs across the continent and am still fighting a lingering cough and cold. It wasn't all hard work since London and Amsterdam gave us the chance to catch up with friends and let our hair down a bit during the evenings.

However, the fairs are tiring and it's hard to stay patient at the end of the day when a noisy minority of the 'tasters' (who have actually been swallowing for a while) swarm to your stand for drunken badgering and an intent to finish off your champagne. The professionals are actually far worse than the general public. Upon one Belgian restauranteur's acclamation that 'the English obviously have no taste' his French friends joined in in agreement. As he continued to demand more champagne, I gently warned with a smiling, 'You should be careful what you say, as I'm English'. He, of course, continued and I could only point out that we might then agree on one thing, "I might have bad taste as an Englishwoman, since I had indeed married a Frenchman".

Luckily the Frog has a sense of humour.

So, Frog is back at work following up with his sales leads and we just have to get through the next 48 hours and we'll be on our hols. They'll be the first we've had together since August, tied as we are now to the production and sales cycle of the house. The only plan we have is to drive down to the family house in Cavalaire with a stack of books. Everything else will be played by ear.

Late Starter

Yes, I know 2007 started a good ten days ago but I'm having a bit of a delayed reaction. I admit to slumping a little in the overall mood stakes and have found it hard to find the energy to wish peace and goodwill to all, when struggling to find a reason to get out of bed.

But hey nonny nonny, onwards and upwards. I've spent the last couple of days trying to focus on getting ready for this year. A shorter new haircut, a facial (thanks Frog for the pampering spa vouchers) meant that even a doomed sales shopping trip today, when the changing room fluorescent lighting and small French sizes seemed to be conspiring against me, will not knock me back into the panic attack terrain that I slipped into last week.

So, pausing briefly to summarise 2006 with the comment written in one kind friend's Christmas Card, "I guess you'll have mixed feelings about the last year but at least the wedding was excellent!", let's move on swiftly to see what we have to look forward to in the first two months of 2007:

• A freelance project lined up to start tomorrow (may they all follow quickly afterwards).
  
  

• A trip to London to visit old colleagues (hire me for your short term needs now!); drink with old friends (yes, I'm still on the booze); visit best mate with her New Year baby (I will not cry) and plying the bubbly at Vive La France (try saying that without sounding cynical).

• Another year, another Saint Vincent. This year the village celebrations are hosted by Frog Family. Let's see if the family members can all put on a smiling front and not kill each other in front of the hundreds of guests. There are, however, reasons to celebrate. The assemblage of a vintage 2006 has just been created, which apparently (I haven't been privy to the tastings) is of great quality.
  
  

• Host another best mate jetting in from Brazil for a few days R&R, on her way to meetings in Europe. (She is the one who had a secret a couple of months back. Again, I repeat, I will not cry).

• Trying not to inflict major bodily harm on Frog when he forgets to engage brain before mouth. His finest example yet came after seeing An Inconvenient Truth on New Year's Day, "Well, if you think about it, all of the earth's problems are fundamentally due to an explosion in the population and you're actually helping the environment". Yes, the resulting evening lurched between states of silence and screaming hysteria. Gah, men.
  

• Travelling for more wine fairs in Amsterdam & Brussels. These are for professionals, which are always easier than consumer fairs. (I'm looking forward to seeing my friend Aaron's newly purchased flat in Amsterdam).
  
  

• Ski-ing. Yes, a holiday. After "working 'is 'ands to the bone" through the crazy Christmas period, Frog is taking a holiday. Harvest to New Year is the busiest time in the industry and, being a small family business, that has translated into no time off for Frog since August (the French 35 hour week has no relation to life in a small family business). However, the good news is that they sold a record amount of bottles over the Christmas period and with February being the quietest month of the year, that's the month that we get to go away. We'll be off to Les Arcs to break a leg, or something, the first week of Feb followed by a trip home to Dorset.

I know it sounds as if we're really busy at the moment and I'm pleased that the next couple of months are packed but I really feel like I'm treading water at the moment. May 2007 unfold without any nasty surprises, that's all I can say.

London

After several days of muttering (I don't really want to travel... I don't want to be left alone for a weekend... I want to see my Mum.... I don't want her to have to drive over from England...) Saturday morning found me sat on the Eurostar with Frog on our way across to London.

He had a long standing meeting with an importer and I had planned on staying home, putting my feet up and taking it easy in my first trimester. Well, since my part of the plan had fallen apart, I had finally decided to head to London. Whilst Frog opted for his planned weekend with his mates, I made my way down to Peckham to meet Mum and squat in my sister and boyfriend's house whilst they took off for a four week Christmas break in the southern hempisphere.

I don't miss living in London but I do love visiting. Highlights as an expat visitor follow:

• Watching a month's worth of QI episodes recorded on Sky Plus.



• Managing to not completely lose it when sat in a pub surrounded by hundreds of screaming babies and children. My hunger overcame any other natural instinct.
  


• Walking along the South Bank and feeling like a tourist taking photos.



• Visiting St Paul's for the first time, after spending years passing it on the #8 bus.



• Walking into the Tate Modern and realising that the new "Slides" installation was not a series of colour images but real "wheeeeeee" slides.



• The look on Frog's face, just for that split second, when I told him that I had nearly texted him to tell him I was leaving him for "another man".
  


• Sitting in a pub in Peckham, eating a Sunday roast with Mum and realising that my best friend from home from the ages of 11 - 13 years, who I hadn't seen since she left Wimborne and moved to Norwich with her family, was sitting at the table next to us.
  


• Eating a coconut pyramid, just like my Grandma used to make, with my large latte whilst waiting for a friend in Covent Garden.
  


• Having lunch in my friend's very cool member's bar and (whilst being very pleased to see her and remembering that I used to work in this industry) being more cheesily impressed when I realised that Strictly Come Dancing is filmed in the studios there.
  


• Meeting a grumpy Frog back at Eurostar on Monday afternoon, who had turned up to his meeting and found that his importer was off with the flu.

Alright that last one wasn't a highlight of the weekend but the reason we both went to London never happened and yet we both had a much needed escape.

I came back with a renewed energy, I have now cleaned our once neglected flat to a sparkling level and feel ready to take on Christmas!

Escape

Basque Evening 2
Originally uploaded by oiseau.

I like wedding gifts. Especially those that you can save for times when you need a bit of a pick up. We took advantage of the gift voucher for a weekend in the south-west and zoomed off on Friday in the TGV from Paris, destination South-West France.

Two nights and three days of discovery in an area that was new to Frog and me. Things that I found out:

• Frog can comfortably put away five cakes in one day.
• I can happily eat confit de canard every night, if offered.
• If you order a rather rough local red, you don't notice after the first couple of mouthfuls. That is, as long as you don't try and taste it but swallow it down quickly. You can pleasantly manage a whole bottle that way.
• We'll both believe we're exercising the food away by wandering around our temporary weekend home town.
• Even a small branch of the largest bank in France (probably) blends into the local style.
• The Salies de Béarn salt water has many uses, we enjoyed taking advantage of being pampered with the mineralising spa treatments.
• We didn't giggle too much at the sight of each other wrapped up in hot mud packs.
• The Atlantique's waves provide a surfer's paradise.
• You can spend a Sunday afternoon sunbathing in the city of Biarritz followed by a stroll around an art exhibition.
• If your stomach is big enough, it can stretch to one final Basque meal before heading back on a night train and couchette to Reims via Paris.
  

Driving Home

Rainbow
Originally uploaded by oiseau.

You really know it's the end of the holidays when this is the sight that greets you as you approach home!

So a Top Ten (in no particular order) from nearly three weeks holiday:

- Having the family summer house and pool to ourselves in 30° heat
- Not getting up before 10:30am
- Nigel's Baked aubergine with pine nuts, feta cheese and mint
- Reading through 10 books provided courtesy of Reims public library's foreign literature shelves
- Catching up on the celebrity gossip courtesy of Voici and Public
- Ice creams at La Rhumerie on the port of Cavalaire
- Reading my first French book from beginning to end
- Jumping from the car on the motorway, near Lyon, before it burst into flames, conveniently close to Frog's best man's home
- Staying with friends for a weekend in Amsterdam on Prinsengracht
- Cycling along the canals of Amsterdam in the last cooler rays of the summer sun

Packing

Sundial Var
Originally uploaded by oiseau.

After a lazy couple of weeks in the heat, a cooler breeze has arrived just in time to send us off on holiday. We'll be leaving tonight for two weeks in the Var. It's a long drive through the night to reach the south-east corner of France and Frog is currently napping in preparation. I am meanwhile avoiding the last of the ironing and wondering if the ten books I took out of the library will be enough to keep me going, when farniente is the only plan we have for these vacances.

I also have Kristin Espinasse's Words in a French Life included in the tower of books. I'm a fan of her website, A French Word A Day, even though I do sometimes wonder if we are living in the same country, given that the differences between our regions are often larger than the similarities. I like her style of writing and the fact she doesn't rely on oft-used cliches to conjour up Provence. I also have a little feeling of smugness when I realise I know most of the words now, which I didn't a couple of years ago.

I'll just remind myself that the last report on the family house pool was a temperature of 31°. That will be my motivation for the last of the T-shirts awaiting the iron.

Bonnes vacances à tous!