Paris!

G and I finally made use of our free Eurostar tickets to Paris last month (just before the tickets expired) and spent a weekend in Paris, leaving on a Friday night after work and returning Sunday evening.  The free Eurostar pass was given to us by Eurostar to compensate for the disaster of a journey we had from Paris to London approximately a year ago. We decided that this trip we would overlay the bad memories of Paris with new, happier ones.

The journey got off to a good start - the train left London on time and did not break down.  So far, so good. We arrived in Gare du Nord around 9 pm and had a very easy ride to our hotel (Hotel de Nice) in the Marais area.  Our hotel room was tiny, but that's pretty standard in Paris.  It had charm, was in a nice area and the shower was big enough that you could actually turn around while standing in it, rather than at our last hotel where turning in the shower meant having to exit and reenter it.  In short, things were looking great.  At least, until I unzipped my handbag to discover that at some point on the metro a thief had managed to unzip my bag, steal my iphone and then zip my bag back up, ensuring I didn't discover the thievery until it was far too late to identify the culprit.  The next hour was spent on the telephone to my mobile provider to cancel and lock the iphone and with me tipsily storming around our hotel room cursing all the thieves in Paris. 

Thankfully, after a night's sleep (and after remembering I have pretty good travel insurance) the weekend recovered.  Fresh baguettes and coffee the next morning, at a nearby cafe, certainly helped my outlook.  And the process of obtaining the police report was relatively painless.  Mobile phone stealing on the metro seems to be a national past time, and the police (although they didn't speak any English) were well equipped in dealing with foreigners who were victims of the metro thieves.  All I had to do was say, in French, "mobile telephone", "metro" and "stolen" and I had all the relevant forms to complete given to me and within 20 minutes had in my hand the signed police report that I needed to claim the phone on travel insurance.

The Saturday was sunny and perfect, and we decided to spend the rest of it exploring some of the  areas in Paris we haven't seen, being mainly the trendy east part of Paris - the Marais and beyond.  We spent a considerable time in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, enjoying the sun and the outdoor bars. 

Then it was off to dinner at Restaurant Le Gaigne.  I'll put some photos up in the next couple of days.  We had the tasting menu and it was all very nice, although not exceptional.  We heard about the place through a review in the NYT from 2009 that came up when we were google searching restaurants in the area.  Unfortunately, most of the other diners were Americans who were also there seemingly because of the review, so it was not exactly a "local" experience, as the various tables of Americans were busying introducing themselves to one another, and shouting introductions across the very small restaurant. Nonetheless, it was a good night.

The next day we wandered around some of the Sunday fresh food markets and then had brunch in the Marais.  That was more of a traditional experience.  Burnch was a set (enormous) menu, including a croque monsieur.  When I asked the waitress whether it was possible to get the latter without the meat (given I'm a pescatarian) she looked horrified, saying to me "it is a problem.  It is a problem for you, as it does not taste good".  Eventually she relented, and I had a tomato and cheese croque monsieur (which, incidentally, did taste rather good).

Finally on the Sunday night we were off and back to London.  In comparison to our last trip to Paris, I would say this one was a success, the thievery notwithstanding.

February - sun, surf and bodily functions

I find the most miserable month in London to be February.  The refreshment I feel after the Christmas break has worn off, the next holidays seem far away and I wake each morning to the unremittingly cold weather of February.  If you think that sounds bleak, it's because February is bleak! 

Thankfully, this February some good friends of ours decided to marry in Perth - a perfect excuse for G and I to jet out of London and head to summery Perth for 12 days.  

The wedding was beautiful - the bride looked stunning and the groom very handsome.  This is a couple blessed in the looks department, but they looked exceptionally wonderful on their wedding day.  It was a fantastic wedding and we happily spent the night drinking, eating and catching up with good friends. 

The rest of the Perth trip was also pretty wonderful.  We stayed at my sister's house.  My sister (A) has three gorgeous children. Well, most of the time they are gorgeous.  The eldest is about to turn 14 and I won't say anything else about him because it may be that, when he can tear himself away from facebook, he reads this blog.  Anyway, to be honest, there's not a lot to say other than that he's incredibly smart, funny, loads of fun and I miss him to bits when I'm in London.  The youngest two are also terrific.  AP (a mischievous little girl) is 3 and JP (a  boy otherwise known as The Pudding, for obvious reasons) is 2.  While each is terrific, together they can be a handful.   One minute they would be playing together sweetly, but by the time I had hold of the camera, the play would have degenerated into a brawl with each screaming "it's mine!".  

AP is a beautiful blonde, but has decided that she wants to have dark hair, like her mum's.  She is convinced it will turn dark, and keeps asking visitors if they can "see the black coming through", pointing to the roots of her hair.  She is ridiculously intelligent and determined to get her own way, a combination of traits that I'm sure will serve her well in life but which prove rather challenging in a three-year-old.

The Pudding is also clever and full of boyish charm.  He is obsessed with rubbish trucks and any time he heard a beeping noise would excitedly shout "rubbish truck", looking for the beloved vehicle.  The Pudding, for no good reason, took to calling G "man".  If he was looking for G, he would ask "where's man?".  He knew G by name, so I'm not quite sure where the "man" name came from - perhaps it was his retribution for the fact we kept calling him The Pudding.  

The Pudding is currently going through toilet training, a process which wasn't always successful while we were there.  Thankfully, being a guest, I could usually pass him back to his parents on those occasions but once or twice found myself having to clean up decidedly adult-looking (and smelling) products of his bodily functions.  G also found himself the recipient of The Pudding's bodily functions.  As he was walking around the garden, with The Pudding having a piggy back, I saw G's face go from happy to horrified, as he asked The Pudding: "my back's wet, is that wee??" only to have the Pudding giggle in response and tell him it was.

When we weren't being entertained by the children, G and I managed to catch up with family, including celebrating my Dad's 60th.  We also caught up with a couple of good friends and saw the very flash new house One friend and his significant other have bought.  

G and I also reacquainted ourselves with Perth's beaches. 

Walking along the white sand at Cottesloe did rather make me wonder why we are living in London.  That is, until we went to Beaches cafe and were charged $5 for a take away coffee.  When did Perth become so ridiculously expensive?  

We arrived back in London just over a week ago, which has been a bit of a shock to the system.  After 30-something degree days, I'm struggling to stay warm in the 3 degree days of London.  I'm also missing everyone in Perth terribly.  However, February is now over.  And G and I have a holiday to Paris to look forward to in the next month and theatre tickets to several shows.  All in all, things are looking up.  And we're still beguiled by the charms of London.  Just not in February. 

January - a summary

So much for my promise to myself to post more frequent updates.  Sorry self.  I'm not good at keeping promises to myself.  In fact, I usually forget my New Year's resolutions by 2 January, beating most people's time-to-forget by a good month. 

So, to catch-up and summarise late December and January ... 

For most of December and until mid-January we had C and L (a hetero married couple - C is female and L male) staying with us.  They are good friends from Perth who have temporarily moved to London. I wish I had some funny stories to tell about their inappropriate house-guest behaviour.  Sadly for this blog, I don't.  They were perfect house guests (and C and L - I'm not just saying that because I know you two are in the teeny tiny group that reads this blog!).   

C, L, G and I brought in the new year by attending a party in Islington.  The party was in a flat occupied by six people.  Unfortunately, one of those people was Ricky.  Ricky is a man.  Apparently his actual name is Richard.  The fact that someone named Richard chooses to be known as Ricky (rather than Rich, Richie or any other one of the many acceptable abbreviations of the name Richard) should have sent alarm bells ringing.  But, after a few pre-party champagnes at our flat, I was willing to be open minded.  C and I therefore struck up conversation with Richie.  Very early in the conversation, Richie asked if C and I had come to the party together.   We said we walked there together, yes.  Richie clarified that he meant did we come together.  I then clicked and asked if he was in fact asking whether we were romantically involved.  When he confirmed he was, I explained we were both married, each of us to men.  At that point Richie asked if I was sure, saying "but my gaydar is never wrong".   Clearly C and I have made the wrong lifestyle choices and Richie knows something we don't! 

In early Jan G and I managed to fit in quite a bit of fun, including spending time with my Dad and family who were in London for a week. We had a few dinners together and all went and saw the RSC's production of As You Like It at the Roundhouse, which was excellent. 

G and I also did the usual January activities, being sales shopping (not many bargains to be had this year) and ice skating at Somerset house.  We survived the latter with no broken bones. 

January saw yet another near-fight between G and a random girl at Kokos.  Kokos is a club/music venue we often frequent.  Unfortunately, every time we frequent the venue, a random female punter decides to try and pick a (usually pretty ridiculous) fight with G.  Those who know G know that he's the least likely person to attract aggro but, for some reason, it always happens at Koko.  The first time this happened (when we were seeing Avett Brothers, not exactly a heavy metal or hard rock band!), a random girl started remonstrating with G over his height and the fact he was blocking her view.  All G said was "it's a club.  People are going to stand in front of you.  Anyway, I'm about a metre in front of you" before the girl's boyfriend leapt between the two of them, placing a hand on the chest of each and telling everyone "to chill.  Just CALM down".  This January we went and saw Dirty Projectors.  At the end of the night we joined the (reasonably short) queue for the cloak room, to collect our winter coats.  When G politely told a girl that she was queue jumping (she was blatantly pushing in front of us) she shoved him and asked him if he was from Melbourne because he had a "squishy nose and tight arse".  G wasn't sure what to make of that one.  Nor was I.  

January also saw us attending what was probably the booziest cocktail party that I've attended in the last couple of years.  J and J were the hosts and put on a fine spread of cocktails.  C, L, G and I all went along, not intending to have a big night.  I can't remember what time we got home.  It's a sign we're getting old that we spent all of the next day curled up in the foetal position on the floor (or at least I did, I was in too much pain to see where everyone else was!).  

In mid-January C and L found their own place and so moved out.  Their new flat shares a toilet with the flat next door, a fact which I'm rather worried about; moving into a flat with a shared loo rather suggests that C and L were somewhat desperate to find a flat and move out of ours.  This desperation may have been caused by by poor L's experience of having to look after me for a week in January when I had a nasty stomach virus and everyone else in the flat was working.  I'm not the best patient, and playing nurse to me with a stomach bug is more than any house guest should have to endure. 

The rest of January progressed as per usual.  These days, usual means that I'm frantically busy during the week, doing my teaching work and regular work.   

No doubt we did various other noteworthy things during January but I've already forgotten them.  I blame the cocktail party.  

I am promising myself that I'll summarise Feb over the weekend, to bring this blog up to date.  But I suspect that by now you realise just how much that promise is worth!  

If it's yellow...

Merry Christmas everyone!

Our accommodation in Dublin consists of a very nice serviced apartment.  It's not cheap accommodation (although it also isn't the Ritz).  Generally it's very nice, but there are some rather curious features.

Amongst them is this sign:

You may need to enlarge this to read it.  In short, it advises guests that due to the adverse weather, there has been an increase in broken water mains and so Dublin City Council are reducing the water pressure or turning off the water as a way to conserve and build water levels back to normal.  It includes a number of tips to "aid with your conservation of water".  One of these is "only flush the toilet when necessary".  The thing that concerns me about this particular tip is that flushing the toilet isn't a particularly pleasurable or exciting exercise.  I certainly have never pressed the flush button just for fun. Indeed, I suspect that most people only do it when necessary.  So what does this request really mean?  I rather suspect that it's code for "if it's yellow, let it mellow, if it's brown, flush it down".  Now, we may not be staying in the Ritz, but asking us not to flush our number 1s is still just taking water conservation a bit too far.

It's been a while

When I warned, in my last post, that I would write only periodically for a while, I didn't appreiciate just how long a period would pass before I would write another post.

I've been busy.  I want to say that I've been busy travelling the world, righting injustice and ensuring freedom and fairness for all.  In fact, it's been far more boring than that.  I've been working two jobs - being a lawyer and a teacher - and have also discovered a passion for running.  It hasn't all been work, however.  I've also managed to squeeze in a trip to Basel (and a 5.5km city fun run in the snow) and been to various gigs, including the National, the Dirty Projectors and Local Natives.

G and I have also been trying to cope with the "big freeze" (as the media have been calling it).  London has been snowed under, with ensuing mayhem and chaos. Flights have been cancelled, Heathrow has started to resemble a refugee camp and we entered an emergency world where anything goes.  The weather seemed to give everyone license to do anything, so long as they prefaced their actions or cut off any criticism by saying "adverse weather conditions".  People started turning up to work one or even two hours late.  This was perfectly acceptable during the big freeze - so long as you announced to the office "adverse weather conditions" with a slight shake of the head, to which everyone would respond with a knowing nod.   "Adverse weather conditions" seemed to excusae anything for a while there - people were turning up to work in jeans and uggboots - "adverse weather conditions", they would announe, and no one would question it.  Similarly, people would duck out of hte office for extra long lunch breaks, returning only to say "adverse weather conditions".   It was actually rather fun. At least it was until our flight yesterday from London to Dublin was cancelled ("adverse weather conditions").  For a while, it looked as though we might not have the planned xmas in Dublin.   and we found ourselves rebooked on a 7 am flight yesterday (meaning a wake up time of 4.30 am). 

Now G and I are in Dublin, where the snow is even thicker.  Our first white Christmas!  I promise I will try to post again soon, to let you know how it goes.  If I don't manage to post soon, well, what can I say other than "adverse weather conditions"?

Three birthday dinners

It happened.  G turned 30, thereby finally becoming officially old enough to justify his ownership of boat shoes and to excuse his tendency to waste half of most Saturdays watching Saturday Kitchen.  I also had a birthday to celebrate - the last one of my twenties. 

My birthday falls first, on one of the last days of October.  Knowing my birthday would rightly be overshadowed by the big thirtieth a few days later, I didn't even try to complete.  Instead, I decided this year to keep the celebrations simple but classy, and booked dinner for G and me at Pearl Restaurant.  This is a  smart restaurant in Holborn, London.  It hasn't been awarded a Michelin star, but that fact always puzzled me.  We last had dinner there about 18 months ago and that dinner was one of my most treasured memories of eating out in London.  I remember each course (and the amuse-bouche) as being exquisite.  Perhaps that was the mistake - thinking we could relive that dining experience.  This time, I have to confess, Pearl just didn't live up to expectations.  In fact, it was a disaster.  The disaster was largley of my own making (misreading the menu and so ending up with a main meal incorporating meat, which I don't eat).  But even that aside, the meal was just "good".  And for the prices charged (which are of Michelin standard) it really should be "wonderful". 

Learning from our mistake, on the day of G's birthday (a Wednesday) we decided to have a more relaxed dinner at one of our favourite London restaurants - the Galvin brothers' Cafe a Vin.  This is a casual little French bistro, near G's work.  Even though it is casual and well priced,  the food packs a punch.  In particular, my cep risotto was divine.  To top off a near-perfect meal, the waitstaff managed to work out it was G's birthday.  So when he ordered a chocolate tart for dessert, they brought it out on a plate spelling "happy birthday" in chocolate and with a lit candle in his tart.  Even better, most of the kitchen staff came out, loudly singing happy birthday.  It was well and truly beyond simply "good service". 

Not one to let a 30th go without fuss, I also booked a rather flash meal and night's accommodation for us for the weekend.  On Friday night, G and I headed up to Hartfordshire, to Brocket Hall for the night.  This is a huge, sprawling estate with a Michelin starred restaurant, Auberge du lac.  

The restaurant entrance

The back of the restaurant - as you can see, it has a lovely view over the lake.

At Auberge du lac we had anything but a casual meal - instead, we treated ourselves to the degustation with matching wines.   The chef happily modified the degustation  for me to substitute the meat courses for seafood courses, without making a fuss.  Each dish was wonderful, so much so that I'm struggling to think of a favourite.  At a push, I would have to say that the confeit of mackerel with an oyster and vegetables was my favourite.  The  feast of food and wine  G and I had would have left us replete and well lubricated.  However,  to top it off, G managed to strike up a friendship with the sommelier (who initially mistook G as someone else in the wine business).  The sommelier therefore took great delight in treating us to further, additional wines, and was excitedly opening bottles of very expensive wine so that he and G could have long wine-speak conversations about the qualities of the various bottles.  The food and wine were both excellent and I am pleased to say that I now have a new favourite dining experience in the UK: the Auberge du lac.   The staff even made a fuss of G's birthday, bringing out some chocolates on a plate on which the chef had written "happy birthday" in chocolate.

However, gluttony in such an extreme form always has repercussions, and although G and I only had to stumble a couple of hundred metres from the restaurant to our accommodation at Brocket Hall, it was a very hard walk.  We probably should have given our stomachs a break the following day (Saturday), but unfortunately our accommodation included a full English breakfast in the morning.  I am still not so far removed from the student mentality that I can turn down a free breakfast, even if I really don't need it.  

 

The rest of Saturday saw us recovering from our marathon eating session, lazing about on the sofa and groaning about our full bellies.   Eventually I managed to haul myself off the sofa to go for a run, but that was really just so I could wake myself up for the further festivities ahead.  That night (last night) we were off to our local pub, to eat pizzas and drink wine with a group of friends in celebration (again) of G's birthday.  And now, after properly celebrating our birthdays, I think I'm going to try to swear off wine and rich food for a while.  Or at least until next weekend.

My sporadic blog posts

Once again, I've been a bit slack in updating this blog.  Recently I've taken up a part-time teaching role, teaching law.  This is in addition to my usual job. And, as any teacher will tell you, although the contact hours might be minimal, the preparation and marking time could be infinite, if I allowed it to be.  Hence I've found myself with very little time for writing.  Hopefully, as I get used to the teaching role, and am able to spend less time preparing, I'll have more time again for this blog.  In the meantime, my entries will be a bit sporadic.