Daily Grind

After that post about the gorgeous weather in Paris, temperatures have now dropped to zero. I've got out my winter coat and had gloves on today for the first time in weeks. Global warming certainly is temperamental.

My exam wasn't too bad, the two tests into English - written and oral - were both pretty good, but the ones into French, as always were not quite so much of a pique-nique. At least it was just the mock and I came away pretty much certain that I have to do a lot more practice for the interpreting part of the certificate. I sense the next time G is in England, (or even perhaps this weekend when my cousin and his wife come to visit), I'll have to get him to speak French to a poor unsuspecting member of my family so that I can interpret as practice for the exam.

Apart from that my life is very full of work at the moment, and I can no longer justify staying late as being because it's the beginning of the year. In training, the lists of people for the programmes come in during January and February, and so the beginning of the year is always harder work than other months - lots of administration and explaining the same thing to seven people a day. So what's my excuse for staying until 8pm this evening? I don't honestly know. Probably because I'm a disorganised airhead who, thanks to modern technology, can't concentrate on anything for longer than 3 minutes. I heard the other day that if a website doesn't load up within 4 seconds, users close the page and rarely go back to it, so in marketing one of the key points for Customer Relations Management is getting your website to match the attention span of spoon-fed web users.


I managed to slip into my schedule the season 3 finale of 24, so I've had my fix of Jack Bauer now for the next few weeks. I'm meeting a friend for drinks tomorrow, then dinner with a family friend who is visiting Paris, meetings on Thursday and then visiting cousins on Friday. I'm very much looking forward to this weekend. I love being a tourist again and being able to rediscover Paris. Hopefully after the weekend I'll be able to write about Paris instead of exams and tv shows. Here's hoping.

Paris when it sizzles

I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles... except that it's mid-March and we haven't had the part when March comes in like a lion, it's already going out like a lamb, and a sweet warm kind little lamb at that...

Paris has been bathed in sunshine for the last 7 days, without a cloud in the sky as far as you can see. On Saturday and Sunday we were able to get out and enjoy it, but during the week obviously the best hours of the day are spent under artificial lights, not sunlight.

It has been gorgeous weather and it's set to continue for the next few days. I know global warming is a serious worldwide threat, but the nice spring sunshine is difficult to begrudge. G's friends are all skiing, he can't go as he has just quit his job and holidays aren't part of the deal. So there is a little tainted tone to the beautiful weather, it may be beautiful in Paris but in Avoriaz it's absolutely spectacular.

Mr Backpack is still trekking across East Africa, and I'm sure he hasn't seen any snow for a while. He's just arrived in Ethopia, read his tales of adventure for some real escapism (in French).

Back to school

Clearly my dreams of faraway places were short-lived, in the last week I've been nose to the grindstone and had no time for anything except work and rehearsals.

On Friday next week I'm taking the first exam I've had since my degree, nearly ten years ago, and I'm pretty much dreading it. It's a mock exam for my translation course that I started in September. The course has been going well, although I am finding it quite hard to get the assignments in on time. I have two translations (writing) or interpreting (speaking) exercises to do per week, and mostly I spend my Sunday mornings worrying about them and my Sunday afternoons doing them instead of relaxing. This week was an exception because at work I invigilated an English test and had a block of two hours of silence to fill, so I managed to get the draught done then and typed up the rest this morning.

So, on Friday I have to go to the University of London in Paris and sit four exams, two written, two spoken (recorded on tape) and see how well I might do in the real thing which will happen in June. I am really nervous, despite the fact that it's a mock exam. At university I tried to enjoy myself as much as I could and worry about exams later. I don't seem to have changed much, although having a job is more of a motivation. In my professional life I always try to prepare as much as possible for meetings or difficult appointments, whereas academically I've always tried to get through on luck and intelligent choices. I'm not sure how well that's going to work this time and I think I may get a nasty surprise if I don't cram in a few hours of preparation this week.

Faraway Places

I know it has only been a few weeks since I returned from Cuba, but so much seems to be happening to other people at the moment that I'm feeling the urge to travel.

Lola, as she is known on her blog, is of course in Hong Kong living an adventure every week and recounting tales of Asian delights which spice up her busy job.

L has a friend who has just taken off for an eight-month blockbuster of a holiday, visiting Pakistan, Iran, China, Thailand, Dubai, Cambodia, Laos and India, among other places. At the moment he's in the Sudan experiencing life among the world's underprivileged.

He set off from Paris a few weeks ago, leaving behind a sought-after 6e arrondissement apartment, a fantastic job in telecommunications and what can only be described as a luxury lifestyle. When I first heard about his trip, and not really knowing the man, I thought he was absolutely crazy. Thailand, Dubai or Cambodia I can understand, but Pakistan? Iran? Sudan? Why?! Of course I understand the reasons why people want to discover new worlds and new people, and I respect that, but the danger of these countries was the first thing to spring to mind.

Now, after reading his posts and seeing how passionate he is about discovering new people, new countries and new places, I can totally understand his need to do his journey of a lifetime. As a woman, I think my view on travel is shaded with worry about being vulnerable in far-off countries where women may not be as safe as they are in Europe. But maybe that's a myth. Along his way, he has met a girl of 23 travelling alone and a retired Austrian woman making her way across the world without taking a plane.

I then read Petite Anglaise's account of her solo trip to Marrakech, and found myself thinking that I would probably have reacted in much the same way, although I think I would have been aware of the intimidating atmosphere before going.

All this talk of travel is giving me itchy feet and I'm thinking of a January trip to Hong Kong with G. We're considering spending a few days in Hong Kong then a week or two in Thailand afterwards, discovering the country and then spending a few days on the beach or doing SCUBA diving. It's a long way away, so no reservations are made yet, but my thoughts at the moment are drifting all around the world.

The Prodigal Phone

My phone has returned and I've celebrated by changing the screen and ringtone into something a little more interesting. Still discreet, though, no Nokia music.

We had rather an unfortunate fridge incident this morning, in that it stopped working. All the electricity went off and after several minutes of fumbling around with the fuse board, G found the appliance which was causing the problem.

So now we have to eat everything in the freezer and the fridge and work out what we're going to do for cold food from now on.

I think a trip to Darty is on the cards for this weekend.

Friendless

Yesterday my right arm was cut off. Not literally of course. France is not a country of barbarians, whatever you might hear.

I lost my mobile phone.

Despite a pretty organised appearance, I do in fact lose things on a fairly regular basis. It all started with a bag at a bus stop. I used to take the bus from the top of my street to school. Packed with sixth formers and kids from another local school, the bus was always full.

One day, at 11 years old, I walked up to the stop armed with Hot Gossip standard issue schoolbag, games kit and violin. How I didn't end up with chronic lower back pain at 30 I don't know. Obviously this load weighed me down somewhat, and it was easy enough, mid-chat, to climb aboard the bus Hot Gossipless. I realised after a few seconds and begged the driver to stop while I ran back (with violin and games kit in tow) to get it. Two minutes later and 2 kilos lighter, a panting red-faced me scrambled back aboard just as the grumpy driver was about to set off without me.

Following the bag at the bus stop incident there were many other occasions. The purse on the bench in St Malo, the keys at work, the keys at home, the scarf in the bar and the top at summer camp. I always seem to have much more important issues to think about than keeping track of my belongings.

I've now realised I left my phone at work on Tuesday, and as I work in different places on different days, I won't get it until tomorrow. I have a dinner arranged for tomorrow and now have no idea if the person is trying to confirm or cancel, or if there are any texts waiting to be read from long-lost friends.

This has also made me see how attached I am to my mobile phone and how absolutely naked I feel without it. Only ten more hours before I can get to it again and probably find the screen exactly how I left it....

The Dark Side

A little cheer on a grey Sunday evening...

Fleeting

I had a morning cup of tea this morning surrounded by enormous suitcases and stressed looking people in all manner of clothes for all manner of seasons. There was a slight waft of kerosene in the air and disembodied voices announcing times and exotic locations.

Yes, I was in Roissy airport, not because I was coming in from anywhere or leaving to go anywhere, but because my friend L was flying in briefly from England to Hong Kong.

Heaving myself out of bed at 7.30am, only 30 minutes after I normally get up when I drag myself off to work, I hastily ate some cereals and got ready. Not wanting to show up looking bedraggled I tried out my new skinny jeans and discovered that black and white trainers look stupid with them. Mentally making a note in my head to get some funky black flats I braved the Saturday morning metro.

I really hate taking the metro or RER early on a Saturday morning. The people on it are either loud-mouthed tourists, exhausted, drained looking night-shifters or people on their way home from parties - these are generally both loud-mouthed and exhausted. I experienced all three this morning, on my way there and on my way back. The RER B is the darkest and most sinister of all the lines but this morning (when I was returning to Paris) was host to a group of women from the north-west of England on a hen-night, most of whom looked old enough to be the mother of a bride, but I couldn't actually work out which one was the bride! In any case, now I know why Sheila isn't buying a house in Spain (she'd be too tied to the one country and wants to see the world), why Ron will retire next year (he's fed up now, innt 'e?) and why Barbara can translate anything in French (she's been before).

Gloomy journeys aside, I had a lovely two hours with L in a cafe in terminal 2C. It had been 3 months since I'd seen her last and while I was getting used to her not being around I still missed her very much. We caught up on developments (G's forthcoming move to Chablis - more on that soon, her new apartment, our respective jobs) and discussed pressing current affairs:

"So, have you seen Brittany's new hair?"
"I know, what made her shave it off?"
"Paris Hilton probably didn't want the competition and persuaded her it was a good idea during a Jack Daniel's marathon session..."

She got on her second plane of the day and headed back to the world of three-storey shop fronts, live chicken markets and mountain escalators. So now it's back to catching up by blog, her on mine and mine on hers, though I'm sure it won't be long before she's back again.

VD

I'm not usually a fan of Valentine's Day. Not because I don't like its commercial nature or couply-coupleness aspect, but because it feels a little forced. I have a wonderful boyfriend I'm very happy with, but up until this year he didn't remember Valentine's Day or think it was anything special and that was fine with me. In a smug sort of way I was content with his being quite lovely the rest of the year.

So this year I wasn't really expecting anything at all. I was happily wrong, when he came bouncing through the door with a thick package from Le Triomphe. I was treated to a delicious meal of amuse-bouches, foie gras, dorado with vegetables and heart-shaped chocolate delights. The meal was truly wonderful and we drank some delicious Alsace Gewurtztraminer with the starter and G's family's Chablis with the main course. The photos don't include the fish because the photo doesn't look quite as mouth-watering as it really was...

In fact we went to the theatre on the day itself, so all this was the day after. A two-day Valentine to make up for four years of no Valentine: I wonder what he's been up to...

Last Day

Our fabulous trip ended in Varadero, an extremely nauseating tourist-filled place with little else but roads and hotels. The fine, long sandy beach was gorgeous, yes, but the complete lack of atmosphere or real Cuban life was so blatant that we were ready to leave after just spending one night there. The glacial reception we received the hotel Villa La Mar was just the beginning of our adventure. Bare light fittings, grotty walls and a very vociferous porter who complained constantly about bad tips were to follow.

The hotel wasn't dangerous or particularly dirty, but we certainly had a much better reception in every single one of the casas we stayed in during our two-week trip.

Our flight home was long, but uneventful, and we fell into our beds early when we got back to Paris. Tanned, tired but happy to have spent two weeks discovering one of the most fascinating of countries, a communist nation with stunning natural beauty, amazingly resilient people and a history to fill thousands of pages. And we only did half of it!