Another week on my favourite (?) island

Barely had I had time to get back home from our rather hectic weekend in Spain, when it was already time to travel back to that rainy, misty island nation, which is so dear to my heart…

The flight to Heathrow was rather trouble-free, apart from the typical 40-minute delay (ominously enough, due to bad weather…). And true enough, I was greeted by big winds and rain upon arrival… But I had expected worse, after Facebook comments about gale-strength winds and flooding…

After a short-ish day of work, I headed out for a curry with (one of the obligatory experiences on a visit to the UK) some colleagues from my team; Steve, Tasha, Samy and Mohammed to be precise. Instead of a Fleet venue that we normally go for, we opted for the Zaffron in Farnborough this time. It was a decent enough curry, and it was nice to catch up on the latest gossip… Afterwards, Mohammed was kind enough to take me back to my hotel; perhaps the worst-value-for-money hotel I’ve stayed at in England (and that’s saying a lot!). Not sure what I paid 120 euros for, really (and that was the company price!); since the rooms are iffy, the location honestly nothing to write home about (I mean, it’s in North camp…). Perhaps it’s considered a historic building, or something?

Tuesday was quite a relaxed day at work, since I was attending a training course (although the breaks were rather busy)… I was planning to spend the next couple of nights at Guilford, at Frank’s place (who’s working in Southwood for a few months). Handily enough, that also meant I could hitch a free ride with him (rather than doing the normal “shuttle bus/train/walk across all of Guildford to Phil’s place” routine). After a quick beer at Frank’s place, and some catching up with him and his lady friend; Mathilde, it was time to hit the pub. We were meeting up with Manue, Phil, Safak and Klaus at the Drummond (change of venue instead of the normal Stoke or Guildford Tup), It was good catching up with everybody again, and to hear about the big changes that have taken place in Guildford (apparently the construction of the casino is on the cards again – not sure whether that’s such a good thing though…). A nice sirloin steak, and a couple of pints (local draft beer from the Hogsback brewery, of course) later, we decided to hit the road (since Frank wanted to leave at 7 to be at work bright ‘n early). Well, we got sidetracked; unfortunately, since we spotted a new bar on the way back (the Piano Bar). But, a drink later, accompanied by philosophical chatting, we eventually made it back.

We did, amazingly, manage to start off at 7 o’clock… Thankfully, Wednesday was my second day of training, so my brain faculties were not required to function optimally. Nonetheless, we decided to head back to Guildford at the humane time of 5PM, rather than the originally planned 7PM. This time, we opted for a quite night in, with a nice pasta dinner (not even accompanied by wine…).

This meant I was on top form for a proper day of hard work on Thursday. The plan for the evening was to meet up in London. After a bit of last-minute-ish planning, we even managed to come up with a simple but effective game plan, which involved meeting up at the Match bar near Oxford circus, and then have a meal in a nearby Turkish restaurant called Efes. Thanks to Sinhung’s help, I was even able to handle the pre-London logistics (check into the Holiday inn again, drop off my luggage, and still make it on time for the 5 o’clock train).

So I made it on time for the 6 o’clock rendezvous at the Match bar (having taken in the Oxford Street Xmas decoration), where Adrian was waiting, on time as always. We were later joined by Samy and Emilie. It was entertaining listening to Adrian’s stories about his hard life at university (apparently he’s even stopped drinking to better concentrate on his studies – I’m sure it’s only temporary). It was also great to see Emilie again (for the first time in about 5 years I think?); she’s a friend of Mathilde’s who used to live in the North of France, when we first met (so we used to meet quite frequently for dinner parties and the like); and now she lives in London. It’s a small world we live in, eh?

We were then also joined by Louis, Kate, Sinhung, Frank and Matilda, and headed down to the Turkish restaurant, for a meal of typically generous proportions (although somewhat less generous than for example the Grand Bazaar). Great fun, again, catching up with the old gang. I think it’s what I miss most from our life in England; the cosmopolitan social life London can offer… (I suppose one could say the Cote d’Azur is cosmopolitan as well, but most of the non-French living are pensioners, so it ain’t quite the same thing…). After a very filling meal and a great deal of merry-making, it was time to head back to Waterloo to catch the train back to good ol’ Farnborough; although we did of course have time to squeeze in one more beer at the “panoramic” train station bar (it offers unparalleled views over WH Smith, Burger King, and a lot of drunkards…). The trip back to Farnborough was rather entertaining as we were trying to figure out what the contents of Kate’s mysterious parcel were… I had the great idea of walking home from the train station to clear my head – so had quite a short night’s sleep…

All in all, a very nice visit to the old island, great to catch up with all the old friends again. And in the end, the weather wasn’t that bad either… ;-)

Franco-Hispanic wedding in Albacete

During her studies in Perugia, Mathilde made a great many friends, and the great thing is that this group of friends has kept contact over the years. Once a year or so, one of the girls conveniently get married, which is a great excuse to meet up ;-). Two years ago, Katerina and Alessandros tied the knot in northern Greece, last spring Paula and Peppe did the same in Madrid. And this weekend, it was the turn of Ines and Sebastien, in Albacete.

Since Albacete doesn’t have its own airport, the easiest option for us was to get a flight to Madrid, and drive there by rental car. So up we got, at an ungodly early Saturday morning, and headed down to the airport. We were a bit nervous about the flight, since our first and last names were mixed up (so Mathilde’s boarding card just said “L. Mathilde”), but thankfully everything went OK. Once in Madrid, we also struggled a bit to find the car rental agency (Peppecar – their office was not located together with the big international firms…). Thankfully, we found the office eventually, and eventually even managed to get the car (not the easiest task either since the guy spoke no English whatsoever; thankfully Mathilde’s Spanish is a lot better than mine ;-).

So, finally we were able to hit the road. We were again struck by how different Spain is compared to even the South of France. Such flat, arid and empty scenery; yet beautiful in its own way. The land of Don Quixote, indeed… Eventually, after just one erroneous exit from the motorway, we arrived, about 2 ½ hours later.

Just in time to join Katerina, Alessandros, Paula and Peppe for lunch, as it turned out :-) Paula, well-organised as always, had already found a couple of restaurant options for us. And had a nice surprise for all of us – looks like herself and Peppe will be mum & dad soon! The lunch was the kind I like, tasty, simple and very copious :-). There was everything from prawns, olives, Spanish ham to lamb chop. And all in very authentic surroundings. Not quite what we had in mind when we asked for a “light lunch”, but I minded perhaps less than some of the others ;-). The bill was rather steep, but I reckon it was worth every cent of it!

After a short siesta (we needed it!), it was time to shower and get ready for the big event. We had bus transport conveniently organised to the nearby village, where the church ceremony was taking place. On the bus, we caught up with the rest of the group (Maria & Aitor, Aurina, Ana, as well as Milene and Kamel). For some reason, we didn’t follow the rest of the wedding guests to the church, but rather had a bit of a “walking tour” of the town first. The difficulty with Spanish towns is that you can’t just ask “where is the church” - since there are inevitably at least three even in a small town. Turns out third time lucky, this time… Well, at least we were on time!

After the church ceremony, it was time to head back to Albacete for the wedding party – which was taking place in the Grand Hotel, no less… And as Spanish wedding parties always seem to be, this was just great. Delicious food, great drink, great company, dancing… All the usual ingredients for a successful wedding. Great to see that the Erasmus group chemistry is still great, and that the Erasmus Boyfriends (well, more like Erasmus husbands these days) get along great. I learnt much this weekend: about building motorways in Greece (not easy, apparently), the fact that one must NEVER, EVER eat Bolognese sauce with Spaghetti (which comes from Rome – Bolognese obviously coming from Bologna where the local pasta of choice is Tortellini) and the fact that I apparently look like Brad Pitt (they must’ve had too much to drink)??

We really had a great time, and were very reluctant to go back to the hotel, but figured we ought to eventually, since we had to get up relatively early for our drive back to Madrid. Vague promises were made about Baptisms in Naples, Easter in Rioja, a summer weekend in Finland… I really hope something can be worked out soon, since these reunions are such great fun…

A day of wine tasting

One of the big annual events in Cagnes-sur-Mer is the annual gastronomy fair, which takes place for a few days at the famous hippodrome. We’ve missed the last two editions of this glorious event, so I figured I’d give it a go this time. Conveniently, Hannu (a regular visitor), had a spare ticket I could use… So I decided to join them on their way to the fair Sunday evening.

The focus of the fair is definitely on wines. Never have I seen so many wine producers cramped in one place before in my life… The name of the game is (at least to a Finn such as myself): buy a glass for 1 Euro 50 cents, and taste as many wines as you can (and if possible, try to avoid buying a bottle at every stand, which is actually a bit difficult…). So true to this principle, we toured around the tent, trying wine, champagne, Armagnac and other beverages from the various regions in France (we ticket off at least Bourgogne, Languedoc, Anjou, Armagnac, Champagne, Bordeaux, Corsica and Provence…).

It was all kind of good fun, chatting away with the producers, and trying to pretend I actually know something about wines. Even Hannu’s kids seemed to be enjoying themselves, even though they obviously had to contend with soft drinks and water. Actually, the wines themselves aren’t that cheap, but one sort of feels obliged to buy at least one bottle at each stand one does tasting… But in the end, I managed to keep my spending in check (5 bottles for about 40 euros, that’s all right I reckon…).

So all in all, it was a pleasant enough way to spend a Sunday evening – especially since the weather wasn’t all that great. And I suppose might’ve even I learnt a thing or two about wines…

An adventurous lunch in Italy

We’ve been talking about having a lunch in Italy with our friends Stephane and Sandra for quite some time now (since we all love Italian cuisine, and Italy only being about 1 hour’s drive away, after all). So today we decided to finally go for it. Before heading off towards the land of pasta and pizza, however, I headed down to seaside to watch the Nice-Cannes marathon pass by. Two of my fellow Finns, Pete and Hannu, participated – and needed some cheering on obviously (unfortunately, I missed Hannu). Both of them made it to the goal, and did very well, if you ask me (making it to the goal is already “doing well” if you ask me…).

Sandra picked us up around 11AM in her Golf. After picking up Stephane and little Clelia, we hit the A8 towards Italy. Everything went smoothly, until we heard an ominous “clonk” sound. It signalled the fact that the driver side window fell down (apparently it was the third time it happen on their Golf)! After some deliberation we decided to carry on until our destination (Vallebona) driver-window-less. Half an hour or so later, we arrived, refreshed ;-).

Sandra & Steph had booked a nice restaurant called il Giardino for the occasion. I like the concept of the restaurant a lot – it’s sort of like an “eat-and-drink-as-much-as-you-can” buffet, but with waitresses bringing you the food (a bit more classy than a self-service buffet). And boy, did we eat… Things kicked off with eight antipasti (if memory serves me...). For primi piatti (starters) we were treated to three plates of pasta (gnocchi, followed by some ravioli and finally some pasta with pesto) - an absolute delight. And the secondi piatti were nothing to complain about either –four plates of meat with French fries. And all this food we washed down with a couple of bottles of local red wine (nothing fancy, but more than good enough for an unsophisticated northerner such as me…). The desert was perhaps less impressive than the preceding delicacies we’d had (still, I wasn’t complaining about the three pieces of cake on my plate), but to be honest there wasn’t much space in our stomachs left by the time the desert arrived… (still, I made an effort!). The meal finished off with some proper Italian coffee and a limoncello. This, if I may say so, is my kind of Sunday lunch :-) (and pretty good value for money at 30 euros each, too…).

Having stuffed ourselves to the brim, we decided to lighten our conscience a bit by taking a walk around the village. It was a pretty enough village, typical for this part of Italy. A bit less touristy perhaps than some of the other places around here, like Dolceacqua. The walk certainly did us some good, especially since there were plenty of steep streets to mount and descend :-)

The return journey turned out to be a bit of an adventure, as well. We hastily improvised a temporary cardboard replacement (acquired from the restaurant) for the disabled front window, which didn’t do wonders for the driver’s visibility to the left. So the drive back to the motorway was quite an exercise in teamwork (with me and Sandra trying to tell Stephane about what was happening on the left side of the car). Things went so well we thought we deserved a coffee in Ventimiglia for our efforts.

On the motorway, things got even more exciting, since our improvised cardboard window kept wanting to come off. But thanks to steady driving from Stephane, with heroic support from Sandra in the backseat to keep our improvised window in place (and just one stop at a service station to make “readjustments”), we eventually made it safe and sound back to Cagnes-sur-Mer…

So it had been quite an adventurous Sunday lunch, then ;-). And just to emphasize the amount of food we actually had – I didn’t have anything for dinner. Those of you who know me, realise THAT does not happen very often… (in fact, I wonder if I’ve ever missed dinner by design before?)

Sailing & Father's day's dinner

As you may have realised, dear reader, if you have been reading my blog, I’ve been doing a bit of sailing this fall. Me and Hannu decided to sign up for a 7-week basic catamaran sailing course. Today was our last session…

As often during these sessions, things started off just great with a bright blue sky and a frisky wind. And as always, much to our annoyance, we seemed to be going much slower than everbody else.

Marie, our no-nonsense instructor, assured as it had nothing to do with our (lack of) sailing skills, rather it was down to our considerable body mass; as she put it subtly: “vous êtes une équipe bien costaud” (English translation: “you need to lose weight”). In spite of this lack of speed, we had a nice morning session cruising back and forth between the ports of Saint-Laurent-du-Var and Cagnes-sur-Mer. It did get a bit chilly towards the end of the session, when the sun went into hiding behind the clouds (might be getting a bit late in the year to just wear a tee-shirt...).

After the sailing session and the unglamorous post-sailing routines (carrying the boats up from the beach, taking down the sails, undoing the rigging...), we got together for end-of-course picnic (bravely doing it outdoors inspite of the chilly weather). My contribution was somewhat meager (a bottle of cider, a bag of chips and some biscuits), but as always I made up for it by eating twice the amount anybody else did (just to be polite, of course)! That raspberry tiramisu was particularly delicious. It was good fun getting to know the other folks a bit more, especially since pretty much everybody in the group apart from me and Hannu is a local. I even enjoyed the sailing course enough to sign up for the next seven weeks (for level 2). Hopefully they'll give us bigger sails for the next lot of sessions, so we can hopefully get our speed up ;-)

For dinner, we’d been invited for an early Father's Day celebration at my parents’ place in Antibes. We were treated to a delicious fish dinner (together with my “favorite” veggie side dish of broccoli & cauliflower), accompanied by some quality Alsacian white wine. We were also brought up to date with the latest gossip amongst the local Finnish population, and heard an account of my dad's participation in a Nordic petanque competition (in spite of their best efforts, his team got beaten by a bunch of Swedes...)

Hiking in the Parc national du Mercantour

When I first moved to the Cote d’Azur, I was expecting a work of glamour, sun, beaches, the azur-blue sea and old people. And for sure, those things can be found in abundance. But one aspect of this region which we really love is the proximity of the mountains. One does not have to get far from the coastline in order to enjoy mountains of over 1000 meters.



But moreover, the Alps are just a bit more than one hour’s drive from Cagnes-sur-Mer. In fact, one of the 9 national parks of France, Mercantour, is located here. Me and Stephane, a colleague of Mathilde’s, have been talking about doing a hike over there for quite some time now. And this weekend, we finally decided to go for it – in spite of a none-too-promising weather forecast.

So off we set, bright ‘n early Sunday morning, driving up the Vallee de Vesubie, past St-Martin-Vesubie, all the way up to the parking from where we were planning to start our walk. The drive itself is pretty amazing, following the deep gorges of the Vesubie, the road taking us past some very picturesque villages indeed (especially St-Martin-Vesubie seems well worth a visit). The trek seemed rather challenging to me – with a steady ascent from an altitude of 1600 meters, up to the final destination; le Pas de Prefouns, at an altitude of 2615 meters.

On the weather-front, things looked very promising, with a blue sky and not a cloud in sight! We took up a brisk pace, and steadily progressed up through some stunning scenery, all the way to the Lac Nègre (which means “the black lake”). It’s quite a special little lake – it merits its name thanks to the dark-grey waters. At this point we were already at an altitude 2400 meter’s. We were also surrounded by snow, so at this point the going got a bit harder. Half an hour or so later of steady ascent, we arrived at the culminating point, Le Pas de Prefouns. Here we took a moment to contemplate the amazing views around us. Back from where we had come, we were greeted by the snow-covered landscape surrounding the lake. And the other way, we could see the mountainous scenery of Italian Piedmont. In fact, we were standing on the border between France and Italy (as drawn up in 1947).



In spite of the howling wind, we decided to stop for lunch here, whilst taking in the views. A ham sandwich, an apple, and a few cookies later, we were ready to carry on. So back we went, the way we had come, stopping to admire the lake again on the way back. A good three hours later, we were back at the car, happy and satisfied with our spectacular hike. All in all, we’d taken 7 hours to complete the 15 km hike, with an ascent of 1000 meters. Not too bad for two amateurs like us ;-). After a quick beer at a road-side bar, we drove back home… We were actually stuck in traffic for a lot of the way, reminds me of all those return journeys from the Mercantour ski stations (we were a bit surprised about the traffic jams, considering the time of year…).

All in all, a great way to spend a Sunday. A pity Mathilde, who was in Angers, couldn’t join us for this one. Well, next time! (perhaps with raquettes).