An unusal type of petanque

Petanque could, I suppose, be said to be for the French what cricket is to the English – very much part of the culture. On weekend afternoon, the local geezers gather at squares in towns and villages all around the country to play this deceptively simple game (fuelled by a few glasses of Pastis, of course!). The rules of the game seem simple enough, basically one of the chaps throws a small ball on the court, and the objective is to get as many balls as close as possible to the marker ball as possible. But as with any decent game, there is more to Petanque than meets the eye… In fact, curling is actually rather similar to petanque, except that it takes place on ice.

Anyway, the point of my ramblings is that Cagnes-sur-Mer plays host to a rather special sporting event once a year – “championnat du monde de boules carrées” (basically, the “the world championships of Petabque with cubes”. This rather unusual game was invented by the local “circle of friends” association in 1980. Haut-de-Cagnes is on a hilltop, which means the streets are very steep – obviously not very practical for playing ordinary petanque (having said that, they do play normal petanque as well on the main square in the old town) – so they decided to invent a version of the game with cubes instead of balls. Apart from that, the rules of the game are pretty much identical to the original version.

As you may have guessed, today was the day of the championships – obviously this was one event we could not miss out on. In fact we kind of stumbled upon it by accident as we wandered up to the old town - we couldn’t really miss the crowds (the turnout was most impressive). It has to be said that calling the event a “world championship” is kind of pushing it, since I didn’t spot any non-French teams, but I do suppose we also have our “world championships in Finnish baseball” back in my home country ;-). Anyway, we had a brilliant time as did everybody else. Actually, it’s a close call whether I enjoyed this or the Monaco Formula 1 Grand Prix more – the Petanque was certainly better value for money ;-).

Maybe we can get together a Finnish team for next year – my parents play Petanque regularly in Antibes so we already have some semi-pros lined up….!

A marvellous train journey

Didn’t have much time to recover from my busy week on the British Isles – we were once more awaiting guests for the weekend – this time Ollie (an Azurian hailing from Greolieres, which Ollie insists is “the most beautiful village in France”) and Rafaele, his lovely lady friend. To not waste any time, they most kindly picked me up at the airport, and off we headed straight away to Nice. After a meal of some local specialities, including socca (perhaps the most local of the lot – kind of crepes made of chickpea pasty), we headed for a few pints in Cours Saleya. We were also joined by Sami and a friend of Ollie’s. Since we had a marvellous train to catch the next morning, we headed home rather early, racing with Ollie’s friend along the promenade all the way to Cagnes-sur-Mer.

So next morning, we got up at an ungodly bright ‘n early hour, and jumped on the train to Nice. There, after a quick breakfast at the coffee shop next to the station, we changed for the Train des Merveilles. This tourist train (which is even accompanied by a rather well-informed guide) goes from Nice, through some very scenic scenery along the Roya valley all the way to Tende, the last town on the French side before heading into Piedmont in Italy. The journey was most fascinating, and not only because of the gorgeous views. The nature of the terrain (mountain valleys) must’ve posed an enormous engineering challenge at the time the train line was built (more than 100 years ago) – it probably still would do so. In some places they even had to build spiral tunnels – a straight line would’ve been too steep for the steam trains of olden days.

On the way to Tende, we crossed plenty of pretty Provencal villages – such as Peille, Peillon, Sospel and Saorge (which we would visit on the way back to Nice), and St-Dalmas-de-Tende (which is famous for its imposing train station built by Benito Mussolini – it used to be the last town in Italy, so the ol' Duke wanted an imposing train station to welcome the French) – until we finally arrived in Tende, the end of the line, so to speak (for the train des Merveilles that is - there are other trains all the way to Turin on the same line).

Tende is a place with a rather interesting history – as towns on borders tend to have, I suppose. It was actually Italian until 1947 – and you can still sense the Italian influence in the architecture, and the feel of the place. It’s also kind of the gateway to the Vallée des Merveilles – a famous archeological site in stunning surroundings, famed for its rock paintings. Tende is in a pretty stunning location in its own right, at the bottom of the Roya valley, so we decided to do a short walk from the town, heading up to the nearby hills. After this frisk bit of physical activity, we explored the typically picturesque old town – until our rumbling stomachs forced us to seek out a restaurant. They weren’t particularly inclined to serve us in the first one, so we ended up in quite a classy restaurant, with some nice rabbit stew on our plates. Having silenced our rumbling stomachs, we headed for the impressive and interesting Musée des Merveilles – which unsurprisingly is about the nearby Vallée des Merveilles. Unfortunately, we had a train to catch, so were forced to make the visit a quick one.

We got on the train back towards Nice, and got off at Saorge, a village I’ve wanted to visit ever since I read it called “a piece of Tibet on the Cote d’Azur” in the infallible Guide Vert. Our little Train des Merveilles leaflet promised a 20 minute walk on the road, or 1 hour on the hiking track, from the train station to the village. Since we still had a bit of energy left, we decided to go for the hiking track. Hard work, it was, as we had to climb all the way up this big bloody mountain, only to walk all the way down the other side to reach the village! And as for the 1 hour – I think whoever wrote that leaflet must’ve been on a bike or something… (we took nearly two hours). But anyway, it was a nice enough walk, and the views were pretty stunning. And of course it gave us the perfect excuse to have some gingerbread and beer at the local bar/epicerie, whilst chatting to the local regulars (well, Ollie did the talking actually, nearly being a local after all). As for the village – it certainly is one of the prettiest once I’ve seen – and it’s rather impressive, the way they manage to build it on that mountainside. But calling it a piece of Tibet on is maybe a bit exaggerated….

And that was it for this time. A great day, all in all. I reckon this is one train we’ll take again (maybe next time we'll have time to check out those rock carvings in the Valle des Merveilles)!

More photos here.

A week of English summer

It’s been about 3 months since my last visit to the UK – so I suppose it was about time duty and English weather called upon me again. The weather looked predictably grim and grey as I landed on Heathrow – but surprisingly the sun even came out on the way to the office in Southwood! (this was of course just to give me false hope – the weather was predictably English for most of the week).

After a productive day at the office, I got a lift off Cliff to Guildford, where I was staying this time. For a change I decided not to pester poor old Phil for his sofa, and stay in a hotel – the aptly named Guildford hotel, located slam bang in the centre on the high street. Which is about the only good thing that can be said about the place – it’s overpriced, the showers are of the English no-pressure model, and the rooms are just not very classy. Then again, truthfully, the same could said for most hotels in the South-east of England. But the pretty much all-eastern European staff is friendly, and the brekkie is nice enough, so I kind of like the place.

Anyway, having settled into my room, I headed off to the pub, naturally. The Guildford Tup was on the agenda tonight (of course). There was a pretty good turn-up, with the usual suspects (Nick T, Phil, Stephane, Maxime and Jeff) naturally turning up – and also Nick H (with his new £8000 camera – wow…) and Kartsa – both of them giving us the latest from the world of Formula 1 (they both work for McLaren). We had a really good night – we predictably ended up in Farenheit 51 after last orders at the Tup, and predictably spent all night by the quiz machine. It’s fast becoming a tradition… (a sad one, some might say?)

On Tuesday night, after another hard day at the office, I decided I’d actually do something useful before going to the pub. So I went for a run around Stoke Park (I had the foresight to bring some jogging gear, actually) – or in fact twice around. After a quick shower back at the hotel I sped down to the pub again – this time to my other ex-local pub, the Stoke. Tuesday night is of course quiz night. Me and Maxime were the only one there, and signed up – in the desperate hope that the inexhaustible treasure chest of TV/pop knowledge, Phil, would turn up (without at least one Brit on the team there is no hope…). Thankfully he did, as well as Stephane and Jeff. So we were saved from humiliation (actually, at one point it seemed that we actually came third – but turns out they had miscounted the points).



For Wednesday night, we had a team curry in Fleet , preceded by some pre-drinks (somehow the word aperitif doesn’t sound right) at the pub next door’s. Nice curry – it had been quite a while since the last one, so…

The night out in London was scheduled for Thursday night. Things kicked off in the Reef bar at London Waterloo, with myself, along with the Malaysian duo of Ko Chung and Sinhung. After a quick drink there we headed down to a bar near South Bank, where we were joined by a bunch of other people (Amal, Ed, Maxime and Chie). After a couple of pitchers of beer we decided it was time to get some food in – after a couple of failed attempts to book a table around South Bank we ended up in a curry house near Covent Garden – recommended by Chie. And with good reason – the food was very tasty indeed, in spite of the somewhat slow service. Among the normal drunken chit chat, there was even a fascinating debate about what the difference is between lap dancers, belly dancers and Geishas (opinions differed rather a lot). There was some last minute drama (a misplaced credit card…) – but thankfully everybody managed to catch their trains back home…

So that was that for this visit. And this time there wasn’t even any entertaining stories to tell about the flights (the flight on Friday leaving half an hour late is more like routine for Heathrow).

More photos here.

Back on the Cote d'Azur - part II

Nice to be back on the Riviera again… Especially as the weather was, er, somewhat better than what Finland had to offer. We got nicely back into the rhythm by a visit to Nice on Friday. As often, we started off by catching a film, after which we had a stroll on the promenade (where the local VW Beatle club seemed to be having a reunion of some kind). The plan for the evening was to take in the traditional 15th of August spectacle, organised by the La Francaise des Jeux (basically the same thing as the National Lottery in the UK) – Sami had managed to convince us it was “not to be missed at any cost”. After a nice dinner in Vieux Nice, we headed down to the promenade for the festivities.

It has to be said, I was initially a bit underwhelmed. The show kicked off with a kind of Grade B Pop Idol (if there is such a thing as a Grade A Pop Idol ?). The organisers were kind enough to even put a big screen up for the audience. And what did they show on it? Commercials! That’s a first one for me! But what really made me laugh was when a winner from a previous year came on stage to SING a commercial – I mean that really was taking the p**s… Anyway, things got decidedly better with the fireworks, which kicked off at 10. The festivities finished off with a grand spectacle with music, dancing, acrobatics, you name it. All very impressive – but they really could have done without the annoying intro videos between the numbers. We finished off the night with a beer at Mori’s bar (where else?), and just managed to catch the last train home.

On Saturday we had some visitors over – this time it was Elodie’s (a globe-trotting friend of Mathilde’s from Angers) turn to pop over with his husband and little girl. After a walk around Saint-Veran (our ‘hood), we had a nice little BBQ on the balcony, with a bottle of Rose to go with it – in true Cote d’Azur style. After dinner, we were all happy to collapse in bed… After a leisurely breakfast on Sunday, we drove up to Haut-de-Cagnes with our guests, and showed them the sights. There was even a nice antiquities market at the main square (I didn’t even dare look at the prices). After the brief but sweet tour, it was time to say the Au Revoirs, as our guests had to hit the road again.

We, on the other hand, had a lunch date to keep. So off we sped down the A8 to Sophia-Antipolis, to Myriam’s and Fabian’s place. Being the time of the year it is, BBQ and Rose was on the menu again – fine by me. And to finish off the great meal, a strawberry Tiramisu a la Mathilde – they don’t get better than that…

A week of Finnish summer

Barely had we had time to settle back to life on the Cote d’Azur, before it was time to hit the road again. My destination was Finland, whilst Mathilde headed to Angers to visit her dad.

This time I flew with Air Baltic, via Riga. Everything went well on that front, in spite of some slight delays, and I arrived in Helsinki-Vantaa airport safe and sound(?). The plan was then to take the bus for Turku, which is near my parents’ summer house. Unfortunately I forgot the fact that you actually need to take the bus to Helsinki and then change buses on the way – so I ended up waiting for the bus 1 ½ hours in the end (and also once again came to the realisation that the Finnish summer ain’t quite the same as the Cote d’Azur one, at least in August – long trousers might’ve been a good idea…). But anyway, I did eventually make it to Kaarina, from where my parents picked me up.

As always, the schedule was rather busy (so many people to see…). Friday kicked off with my grandma’s birthday (her 94th !), which was celebrated at her elderly home by friends and relatives. And quite a large number of people managed to make it actually, although it has to be said I was quite a bit under the average age (fortunately Janne and Katja came along later to compensate a bit…). After the birthday festivities I headed off with the other youngsters to Turku to grab a few beers with Rasmus (my cousin), Jocke and a few others. Things kicked off in Hamburger Börs, followed By Koulu (one of my favourite bars in Turku – the building used to be a school , and the home-brewed beers are named thereafter). And things finished off with a burger at the snägäri (kind of like a snack bar, plays the same post-pub role as the kebab shop in the UK).

On Saturday my mum had prepared a kräftis for us (that’s Swedish for crayfish party). But before that, we had the opportunity to experience boundbirs’n – which is kind of like “village fare” in the local Swedish dialect. So it’s basically an opportunity to buy the local produce, check out the local animals (we saw an animal which strongly resembled a Llama – which as far as I’m aware is not a traditional animal in the Finnish countryside…), and eat a bit of good n’ healthy country fare. The climax of the festivities was the tractor pulling. Yep, you heard it right. Basically the local farmers turn up with their more or less top-of-the-range tractors, and then have to pull a digging machine. It was rather amusing, actually, especially the “slightly” tongue-in-cheek commentary (“here comes Penkku with his 65hp Valmet S65 tractor – the way the engine growls, I’m sure he’s done a bit of last minute mods…”, or “and there goes Timppa, my god, it’s amazing his hat stays on...”).

The kräftis was a good laugh, as it always is. Basically a kräftis (short for kräftskiva) involves eating large amount of crayfish, whilst drinking even larger amounts of vodka whilst singing drinking songs. If you really want to do it full-on, you should even wear a suit and a tie (I don’t – just gets messy…). The whole family was there, including my nieces Julia and Sofia (who, I'm sure, enjoyed all the trendy drinking songs...). Anyway, a few dozen crayfish and a couple of bottles of snaps later, we were ready for the sauna (and the “refreshing” 15-degrees swimming pool).

Sunday was for resting, definitely… But we did finally get our act together in the afternoon, and headed to Turku, for a rather late lunch on Cindy, one of the boats moored on the Aura river… The food was good, and the views were nice – and the sun even crept out from behind the clouds! After the meal we had a walk around Ruissalo, which is a picturesque island just next to Turku (most famous for one of the main Finnish rock festivals, Ruisrock). After frolicking in the nature for a bit, my parents dropped me off at a park, where I was supposed to join Rasmus and the other lads for a bit of footie. Unfortunately the game was cancelled due to lack of participants, so I went to the cinema instead.

Monday was another day of chilling out, although I am quite proud of my 16 kilometre’s jogging session. And I reckoned I could’ve run quite a few more, even… Apart from that, we didn’t do much else… (I was too nackered to do anything much, anyway!).

On Tuesday it was time to jump on the bus and head back to Helsinki. I arrived in the afternoon, and had time to walk around for a bit, and even catch another movie, before meeting up with Jani and Jocke for a couple of pints. We started off with a pint in the Texas beer garden (some might say that was a bit optimistic thinking again, given the “Finnish summer weather” – but hey, when it’s summer it’s summer, right?). We then followed up with a pretty decent meal of Chinese (the quality and quantity of ethnic restaurants has definitely increased by quite a bit in Helsinki over recent years…), and another couple of pints at Hemingway’s (where Jani treated us to stories of his 12 months in the EU forces).

I had ambitious plans for my last day in Helsinki – I had decided to visit a museum, for once. But I started things off with a run around Töölönlahti, which was pretty pleasant. I had actually never been all around, and quite enjoyed checking out the old wooden mansions that dot the shoreline. There is one positive thing about the underwhelming temperatures – it makes running a lot more pleasant experience than in the South of France… After the run and a quick lunch, I headed to Kiasma for the museum visit I had promised myself I would make. Kiasma is modern art museum. They are not normally my favourite kind (to me a lot of modern art seems suspiciously like the work of drunkards or children – I suppose I just don’t understand it…).
Well, Kiasma didn’t really change my opinion about modern art, a lot of it seemed a bit pointless and, well, arty-farty to me. But there were a few pretty interesting works there, so I reckon it was just about worth the 9 euro entry fee... After yet one cinema session, it was time to go the pub again. A rather quite session this time, with Janne, Katja and Riku in Mr. Pickwick opposite to the railway station.

Well, it was a nice week, all in all, in spite of the somewhat dodgy weather. And I guess you could say I rediscovered Helsinki in a way – it’s a very pleasant city to stroll around in, check out a museum, have a drink, have a dinner, have a coffee, whatever. And it’s definitely a much more international place than it used to be – which is a great thing. I mean, a few years ago, you hardly saw any tourists – now you even see tourist groups!

More photos here.

Back on the Cote d'Azur...

I have to say that it felt very nice indeed to be back home on the Cote d’Azur after our exotic travels in Mongolia and our somewhat less exotic stay in Milan… Home sweet home, as they say (the blue skies, warm weather and swimming pool helped as well ;-). Actually we only had a few days to rest before heading off to our next respective destinations (Finland for me, and Angers for Mathilde).

After a day of chilling out at home, we thought it was time to pay Nice a visit again. We started off with a cinema at Rialto, “The City of Men”, a kind of sequel to City of God (strictly speaking, “The city of Men” was originally a TV series that sprang out of the success of City of God – this movie is based on the TV series). It was pretty strong and emotional stuff, although not quite as powerful as City of God. After the movie, we met up with the normal gang (Mikko, Marianne and Sami) for dinner. This time we picked a restaurant on Rue Massena (a pedestrian street in central Nice with loads of bars and restaurants) called Quebec (I guess probably the first Canadian restaurant I’ve ever been to - if it can be called that…). The food was OK, but nothing to write home about.

On Sunday we had my aunt, Tutta, over for lunch. She had come over from Strasbourg (where she lives) to spend a couple of weeks in my parents flat together with my cousin Mikko and his family (unfortunately they had already left by the time we got back from Mongolia). With the great weather ‘n all, we went for some food off the BBQ. Nice to catch up with Tutta, and sounds like she had a good time too, judging from what she told us.

Later that evening, I noticed on that most indispensible social networking tool Facebook, that Isabelle, a good friend of ours from our years in the UK, was coming to Nice (for work). So I immediately picked up my phone and called her, and we promptly decided she would come over for dinner Tuesday evening. We decided to have dinner in Haut-de-Cagnes instead of at our place, so that we could show her some of the historic sights of our home town. After an apero at our place, and a quick tour of the old town (which was rather atmospheric, bathed as it was in the last rays of sunlight…) we headed to one of our favourite restaurants in Cagnes – “Le Fleur de Sel” (our initial choice was “Entre cours et Jardin” – with our favourite waiter Pierre – the best in France according to our dear friend Winston W – but it was fully booked unfortunately). The food and wine was excellent as always, and we had a great time catching up on the good old days… (and there were some very good days, and nights as well – Isabelle used to be the party organiser “par excellence” when she lived in Guildford).