Pig property

Ariel, the assistant pastor, and his wife, Gingky, live in a basic brick house. It is Ariel who planned the Christmas party, who provides transport in the form of his tricycle, and who usually leads worship. He is paid what the ministry can afford, which isn't much, and subsidises his income with doves and a pig.

His mother (pictured) lives next door. "I would be lonely", she explains, "but I have my family near by". We called to visit on his birthday. We wanted to all go for a meal together but there is a problem. And it is the pig.

Actually the problem is a good one. The pig is pregnant! but the fact that she is about to give birth means that Ariel is reluctant to be away from his key source of income for long. Piggy is happy but stubborn. As I write the meal is still on hold and the piglets are still due....

Husband and wife have to take it in turns being stuck at home.

So here is a postscript: The pig finally had 13 piglets, and has 14 teats so that's ok. All doing well, but I don't have a photo, more's the shame.

Church Christmas Party

And what better place for a party than the beach? There are people from 3 church locations gathered together. The furthest, Reserva in the mountains, has special transport for everyone. A truck with chairs has been hired for the occasion.

People gather under the shade of canvas strung between the beach huts, or under the leafy tree at the side. There was a time of worship followed by prepared pieces. Each group has prepared something. The children a dance, the mums too a little later, the youth sing, others dance or sing. Each church group has presentations.

The preaching is brief, an encouragement to know and express Jesus. That new lifestyle chosen by the baptism candidates. Then 6 are baptised in the sky-blue sea.

Well the sea was blue and wonderfully warm, but the on-shore wind had made the waves rather large. Several were "baptised" as they walked out from the shore, the formal baptism moment being carefully chosen in the full water after a wave.

Then food for all and an afternoon of games, usually with prizes. There was the pot-smashing made difficult by a blindfold and the need to walk to the swinging pot. Mean while several small boys were trying to climb the greasy pole to win the 500 pesos set as a flag on the top. The winner was an older man who used sand to improve his grip!

Married couples competed in the 3-legged race, it helps to be close! A sack race for different age groups, the teenagers in a relay, and musical chairs (a trip to Jerusalem) for the mums who proved to be a very competitive lot.

There were other games too, and I can't be sure I have the order right! With the games finished, time for another snack followed by a gift exchange and clothes giveaway (adults and teenagers) made possible by gifts from a French church.

And at last time to depart, once everyone had helped to clear the site. Today there was more than usual to clear as we had made the first use of the audio equipment also sent by the same French church. It was used all day and was thoroughly appreciated.

So the lorry departed with its load of people, the assistant pastor with his tricycle of audio equipment, and us too with much less luggage now the prizes, presents, and clothing had been distributed to all.

Incredibly everyone of the 3 congregations received something.

Cordialement
Terry

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Christmas morning, in the heat

I made the mistake of getting dressed after 8am this morning. So the first visitors found me still in my pyjamas! By the time we had started breakfast, lots of other visitors arrived.

Family, neighbours, god-children call and all are given sweets, money, and perhaps a present. A small girl took my hand and placed it to her forehead. "What was that?" I asked Evangeline. "She is asking you to bless her", she replied. I blessed several people this Christmas morning.

Cordialement
Terry

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Church at the seaside

So, still slightly jet lagged, we prepare for church. Within hours of my arrival, Evangeline had popped to the local market and told me "try these on. These are Philippine cloths, you'll need them". And I did, because the day heats up and even the wind is hot.

Today we are 2 visiting pastors, Evangeline (pastora), Marjorie, and myself, and there is only public transport. We hire 2 tricycles for the goods and Evangeline and I are on the back. The others walk to the bus stop.

The church location is on the beach in the next town. I look at the speedometer of my tricycle to see the speed but it shows a constant 0. I comfort myself with the observation that the green portion of the dial stops at 60 and that it is probably km/hr. We soon turn off the main road and work cautiously along rough roads and a long iron bridge.

And then the road runs out. We are greeted by an elderly lady who is the owner of this beach location and whose facilities we are borrowing. She is really happy to see us and keeps introducing me to her grandchildren, and telling me her family history, despite her difficulty with English. "Pastora is my best friend", she tells me. And at the end of the long day she was still smiling, "it's been a good day" she declares.

More on the church later. For now, enjoy the photos.

Cordialement
Terry

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Back to the Beginning, a Journey

So how did the journey go?

There is no direct flight from Paris to Manila, but there is from Heathrow. And the Eurostar was offering good rates for the trip on the days I wanted. So stage 1 consisted of train journeys.

It is an hour to the Eurostar by RER train from my flat and there is check in time too. So 7am for the 9:13 Eurostar. In just over 2 hours and I am in St. Pancras. A third train, the tube, takes another hour to reach Heathrow.

Now I left time for contingencies and was not sure how long the tube would be. But the trip was completely uneventful so I arrived in lots of time for the flight.

I took a French style lunch (2 hours).

Now I had obeyed and printed my boarding pass and the line for the "web check in" was empty. I joined it. The long snaking other queue moved slowly forward but I was already in!

The plane was late arriving so it was late leaving. Hundreds of people boarded for the 14 hour flight. It was hard to doze in the narrow chair but I must have managed it and 4 films later we landed on Friday afternoon at Manila.

The delays in disembarkation and baggage collection consumed another hour which was good because traffic had delayed Evangeline too. We arrived at the airport exit at about the same time.

Then a taxi ride to the bus station. The price went up when he saw me but my hostess had negotiated a firm price and he was forced to comply. The car needed a new exhaust and the leaky boot was opened by an improvised wire from the back seat. It had been raining.

I found out why Evangeline had been delayed. The Manila traffic was all but solid except that somehow it all kept creeping forward as cars found narrow spaces just big enough for them.

The bus service is frequent and our bus left almost immediately. We drove for ages on a Victory Bus before we reached the open road. 5 hours later we were at the interchange town, Olongapo. Now near midnight, local time, the busses were less frequent. Our bus left just after midnight and had standing room only.

After frequent stops we secured 2 seats from those who got off (no one got on) and just after 1am we were dropped off. Nearly there. The last stage of the trip involves a tricycle. The bags are put on a rack and the second inside along side Evangeline. I sit sideways behind the driver. The vehicle is quite slow and the driver is very careful of potholes and other obstacles. We turn a corner and stop outside some gates. Marjorie is still up to greet us.

My body clock says Friday afternoon. Every one else says it's 1:30 Saturday morning, and bedtime.

Actually I am quite tired too.

Cordialement
Terry

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Where am I?

Breakfast. Since my last meal, on the plane, was yesterday evening and was also breakfast, this is a bit of a repeat.

I take in the view from the balcony. There is a covered place to the left, an old house with no roof below it. Beyond that the fish ponds spread round the property shaded by coconut laden palm trees. A bright blue kingfisher perches on the rough bark of one of the trees, but he is too small to photograph.

Joshua, the guard dog relaxes off duty but still with one eye on the gate. It is hot.

Here is a panorama that will give you a better idea of the view.
Remember this view is a flattened 180 degree sweep.

Terry

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Fishing for food

So here we are at Evangeline's place, and these next few blogs may be out of their chronological sequence, it mirrors my odd mental state after 35 hours travelling....

2 men have turned up to get food for the church party tomorrow. They have a new net and you can see them in the large fish pond (rather than the small fish pond you understand). Does he have one? Yes, and its a big one. As I watch and photograph them they get another, but I head back to the shade and to photograph other parts of the property. The noisy kingfisher appears to be put off by the larger fishers and has gone but not without an earlier bright flash of blue and a loud raucous song.

 Did he get one?

Yes he did!

Here it is

We have just finished breakfast on the terrace, and the maid is washing up. She is very happy to hear they are catching large fish! Evangeline heads off to the market and I catch up with the blogging. With a little effort my phone is now web enabled, and this laptop is connected by wireless. So I can use it in the lounge and not Evangeline's office, alias her bedroom.

I can hear a child's voice outside. Marjorie is here with 2 small children. People come and go in this house, and they are not all resident! so blogging from the lounge is a much better idea. Here the sterio is belting out the new music I brought with me. The slight downside is the need, so I am told, to keep the door of my bedroom closed. It also keeps the flies out!

Hey, just for the record there are very few flies in evidence, but there are fly-screens at every door and window so there must be a reason.

More pictures, more blogs later. We are due to host a pastor and his wife today and tomorrow and they arrive this afternoon.

post script
By the time I blog this they have amassed a large catch. Evangeline tells me that the last time someone tried to catch anything, they caught almost nothing. This is a good day, but there are lots of people coming, so after coffee and cake the men are instructed to "do it all again"!
 

Christmas Specialties

Some have suggested that I write very often about food. Well I am in France, but I am trying to find other subjects.

However this is too good to resist.

Here is an item on the Christmas Menu for the works canteen. This is the ONLY non-fish main course item (for the French, Christmas = fish). I have reduced the menu to the essentials and suppressed data to protect the innocent (ie me).

It made me wonder if the Aussies force fed kangaroos? I am tempted to say something about being "hopping mad" but I wont. The menu picture, I hop (sic), says it all.

Cordialement
Terence Westoby

Spanish lights

There is a restaurant at the hotel. This was the subject of an earlier blog. But there is a place in the centre of Malaga that has much more interesting food.

So I set the GPS for the car park I found earlier - there is almost no street parking in central Malaga.

What I had not expected was the traffic. You see this was Thursday and both the following Friday and Monday were bank holidays in Spain. The whole of Spain appeared to be taking advantage of the occasion.

So it took me 40min to drive into Malaga, and lots of traffic jams on the way out. But once parked the Christmas lights were pretty and the restaurant food was as good as ever. Strangely the restaurants were mostly empty. I was there at 8pm, if my experiences elsewhere are anything to go by, the Spanish will start to eat at 10.

So here is a picture of the yellow lights. They look white in the photo so you will need a little imagination.

Cordialement
Terry

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Bar talk

Here in the hotel bar, the owner is in good spirits. They don't have Guinness so I go for the local beer. The owner adds a plate of "fried potatoes" or crisps to you and me.

Other people appear and start to prop up the bar. "Bwena" is a simple greeting I can say but not spell.

The owners starts to introduce the people to me. The young man who just emerged from the kitchen is the general manager. The large jolly man who came in is the manager of the bull ring. The owner then struggled for enough English to describe the older bearded man reading the paper at the bar. "He is. ...", "the matador?" I suggested. All except the bearded man laughed and the owner shook my hand.

I must have got it right then.

Cordialement
Terry
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Christmas is nearly here

And here in Spain there are nativity scenes. I photographed this one in the little restaurant I use each lunchtime. It is full of Christian icons. In common with much of Martos, and possibly other areas too, the pictures of Christ have strange "rods" (usually 3) sticking out of his head. I still have not worked out what they are supposed to represent. Still, in a place where they sell pictures (not in the restaurant but in a shop in town) that include Jesus dressed like a king in gold, yet whilst carrying his cross, I suppose realism is not to be expected.

So have you spotted what is odd about this nativity? Clue, there are fish in the sky! Neons and fantails if I remember my childhood when we had similar fish in a tank. Yes, imaginatively, this nativity has been placed in the tropical fish tank that sits under the huge TV.

Well why not?

Cordialement
Terry

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Yue leaves and joins me

Which when you say it out loud sounds a little confusing.

Now you will have guessed, by reading this, that "Yue" is not "You". So what or who is "Yue"?

There are 2 Chinese girls working at Valeo. They have been here longer than me, some 3 years, and they have now finished their studentship. So they are off to places new.

Danxi invited us all to a pôt de départ, and since I did not know what this was I googled it. "Warehouse departure" it said. Confused I asked Yves if it was a phrase in French, which he said it was, but without the "ô". As "pot de départ" it means "farewell drink". In this case snacks and juice.

Now Danxi has an interview on Monday but Yue already has a job with the subcontractor I work for. If Danxi gets the job, she will be there too. So Yue said to me, "we will be work colleagues", which is true. In the strange way life has of twisting things, Yue is leaving where I work and will become my work colleague.

So "Yue leaves and joins me", as I said.

Cordialement
Terence Westoby

Lunch

Here I am outside at a tapas restaurant in the next village (makes a change). As you can see I am the only one but it is more comfortable than inside. There is a patio heater just for me and I keep my coat on!

I returned for steak and chips. I tried on Saturday but ended up with a sort of sausage roll and chips. Decoding the menu I reasoned the correct dish was further down the list. Encouragingly it was also more expensive.

And so I had returned for my steak, second attempt.

Now a Spanish steak is not like a French or English one. None of this "how would you like it sir". It comes cut up and well cooked. So they don't even provide a knife.

Still steak it was and swimming in sauce. And it was better than a burger.

Cordialement
Terry

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Saturday night surprise

It was a quiet night. I entertained myself with a Spanish movie (on TV), I understood not a word, and with YouTube clips. All my favourite oldies are there.

Then, with no nighttime hot water available for a bath, I settled down to sleep. It was 10pm but the hotel bar was audibly active. I was just telling my brain to ignore it when the telephone rang.

The last time the phone rang it was an error. But I answered it anyway. "Terence?" Enquirer the voice, and when I had affirmed it, "please wait". So I did. A voice then announced that it was Antonio and perhaps I wanted to join them in the pub? Well why not? I was unlikely to sleep too well until later anyway.

There were 2 engineers from Valeo waiting for me outside. "We tried the town hotel, but you were not there" they said. "Where are your coats?" I asked - looking at them I felt over dressed, but feeling the cold wind I felt under dressed. Perhaps these Spanish people are very hardy? But no, they just left their coats in the pub and were warming themselves with alcohol as we walked.

The pub had a noisy tv playing pop songs from years ago and everyone shouted over it. I was introduced to people I knew from work, plus 2 wives, the latter kissing me on both cheeks in greeting.

"Rum or whiskey" they asked. When I realised it was not a joke, I ordered rum and coke. No beer drinking at this pub, although it was available. At about midnight the tv went blank (but not silent) and the coloured lights started spinning disco style. No one danced, we just had another drink. The place was far too packed to allow anything else.

Just when I was getting really hoarse trying to converse, people started to move to leave. We all decided to go and several of us walked up the hill past my hotel. I thanked them all for a pleasant evening and rang the hotel bell hoping to get in. It was 1am. The manager opened the door and appeared apologetic that I had had to wait 10 seconds. Their bar was now quiet and the chance of a good night loomed expectantly ahead.

So that's what the Spanish do for entertainment. It just starts at about 10pm.

Cordialement
Terry

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Attempted photo in difficult light conditions.

Chinese wedding in Paris

Some of you may know that in China they take photos first and then have the wedding. Terribly practical- it gets all the fuss out if the way and allows everyone to enjoy the day.

So, here in Paris, why be different?

I was taking a relaxing promenade in Central Paris, when I saw this couple on the "bridge of padlocks". For those of you who don't know, this footbridge over the Seine has a net side that permits padlocks to be attached. Street vendors will sell you one if you come unprepared. The idea is that 2 lovers write their names on the padlock, attach it to the bridge, and throw the keys into the river.

I suppose an archeologist in the distant future will wonder at the number of keys and I suspect propose the site of an ancient foundry. He could surely never guess the truth.

Neither, I suspect, do the couples guess that from time to time the gendarmerie come along and break off all the locks. It rather spoils the "eternity" idea of throwing away the key. Sensibly the French don't advertise this part of the "romance".

But presumably our Chinese couple are using the bridge for romantic reasons. The trouble is, it's November. At that is why the bride is wearing a black plastic anorak.

At last the photographer is ready and she bravely discards the coat. The wind had a bitter edge, and her wedding dress is backless. Still she smiles for the camera and a host of onlookers, including me, watch and admire her.

Hopefully the 2 photos attached will both arrive at the blog. Otherwise you will have to wait for the edit after I get home.

Cordialement
Terry

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Sunday lunch

After church, an invite to join several people at the local restaurant. It is better than eating alone and provided French and English conversation. Now a young lady had introduced me to an app for my iPhone that takes lots of pictures and stitches them together to form a wide view (or high if you want). So for fun here is the whole table (bar me) in one view.

But it is not perfect. Spot the Picasso-like lady (2 faces), the girl with 2 right ears, and the person sporting a jacket that just cannot be over her forehead.

Still it was fun.

The waiter (standing right of picture) spotted we were from the church up the road. Because we are noisy? I asked. No, he replied, because of the smiles. Well that can't be bad.

Malaga

I had proposed to walk up the hill. There is more than one, I took the easy route. Here are a couple of views.

You could go higher but I chose the wrong route so I didn't.

Afterwards I found the nice restaurant I had used before. I recall Hina likes photos of food, so here is one for her.

Wrapped in a sort of pastry. Very good at €5.

Chicken flambé with brandy, diced "chorizo", onion and cane treacle.

I needed fast food and I had eaten here last visit (but in the evening). According to the waiter, all the good came quickly. Well that was not quite the  case, but I had exaggerated my need, and the delay encouraged the thought that the dish was freshly cooked. 

Indeed, after I had tucked this away I had time for a desert too. But there is a limit to the photos I will take.


Terry
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A little tour ...

... on 2 wheels.

I have often wondered what it is like to balance on a "Sedge-way" so when I found I had the morning free in Malaga, and there were these things for hire, I took my chance.

But they were not going to let me just drive off on my own. It was an accompanied "tour" and since time was limited I  booked the 20 minute one. After a brief lesson, and the compulsory hard hat, we were off along the harbour walk.

A stop for a photo-call, with permit to remove the hat.

The contraption requires you to fall forward to go, and backward to stop (but not too long because reverse works this way too). The bar does not turn but goes left or right and has an effect even at a standstill.

After this photo, my guide increased the limit speed from 12 to 20 mph (it's American). That was a lot better as before it was like trying to go slow when skiing - much harder.

All too soon it was over. Is it costly to own one? $8000 I was told, or $5000 in the USA. There are no Chinese copies yet, but at that price it can't be long.

En Déplacement

The dining room before it filled up.

I suppose many people who travel for work see places from the point of view of hotels and restaurants. It certainly is that way this week for me except that my plane does not go until the afternoon tomorrow so that I can play the tourist for the morning at least.

Having traveled down com Martos to Malaga (2 1/2 hrs) I elected to eat at the hotel restaurant. It has the benefit of being able to chose from the menu in my bedroom but when I went downstairs I found I was too early. Fortunately I had bought a days internet so I attended a lecture on the influence of Peter the Great ("they all called themselves Great" I was informed).

After the appointed time I descended to find several families already installed at tables. I spotted a lady holding a notepad and asked for a table for one. She put me on the only small table which was by the window and under the air conditioning - most invigorating.

I have started to notice that Spanish ladies often have generous body parts for sitting on. The waitress was no exception, the trousers of her black uniform only emphasising her ability. She had the air of someone who coped rather than excelled.

Since I had already chosen, I checked the menu I was given to be sure it was the same, and then placed it on the table to indicate I was ready to order. After a considerable while the notebook appeared at my side. I ordered the fritters to start, described as "delicious" in the menu translation which also said there would be 6 of them. I remember counting food items as a child - to be fair!- so I supposed this information was for the families present. To follow I ordered the swordfish.

And a glass of red to drink, I requested. Glass or bottle? She asked so I plumped for the glass but I asked if they had a carafe? After a bit of explaining, her frown brightened and she smiled clearly showing she had understood. No, she said happily, and we agreed again for a glass.

A bottle of something was soon produced with a glass swiped from another table 'en route'. It was generous enough and was quickly followed by the fritters. I was just tucking into my 4th fritter when a plate of swordfish arrived on my right. The smell of fish contrasted strongly with the ham and cheese of my fritters making the last 2 less delicious. I recalled that the hotel rejoices in the name of "Holiday Inn Express".

The swordfish was all right. I decided the oil must be part of Spanish cuisine and not just the restaurant at Martos. Maybe it is a contributor to the sitting ability I have begun to notice but something told me not to try and find out from the waitress.

By now the restaurant had filled up considerably. With only 1 lady on duty, there was now a long wait for my desert (occasion for much of this report) and contradicting my earlier assumption of the reason for the name "Express". The waitress is taking payments now and being paged by another man who she ignores, and now she is serving some newcomers. Clearly a busy life.

So I will leave you to guess what desert I chose and if I ever got one, and I will publish this now. I have the feeling my tapping may be delaying things. Both my meal plates are still on the table.

Postscript:

The deserts offered were either cheesecake or chocolate pancake. I plumped for the former. I gave up waiting for coffee when I recalled there was a kettle in my room. I stopped tapping but the service was unchanged. The waitress added the bill to my room number and smiled at me knowing I was obviously satisfied.

Of course I was.

Iberian Secrets

Do you want to know a secret?
It can be exciting to discover something new and secrets inspire curiosity. So the title "iberian secret" made me wonder. The menu at the small restaurant here at Martos can be quite uninformative and this was just such an example.
I had photographed the menu, the sole example of which is posted next to the door, and had sat down to decode some of the entries. Rather than look up every word, I choose a menu item and try and confirm what look like key words. The Spanish words I know are unhelpful in enquiring about these things. Hello. Yes. Good bye. Thank you.
I had started on a longish phrase in the starter section when the waitress turned up. She deposited an open bottle of coke with a glass and ice that she knew I would order and looked expectantly for my decision. So far I had discovered " hollow of hump" which was as helpful as "Iberian secret". But I plumped for it by pointing at my photographed menu ( much to her amusement) and found she had added the "secret" as my second course. It is one thing to ask what the secret is, and quite another to ask in a way that was going to produce something I had to eat.
I returned to my choice of first course and translated the last 2 words. "With fried egg".
In far too short a time for fresh produce to be cooked, the first dish arrived. The hollow hump turned out to be thin slices of meat, quite tasty and requiring salt that was deposited for my use beside the plate. The fried egg was to one side. The salt turned out to be useful in soaking up the grease that characterises the cuisine in this establishment.
Once finished and the plate was removed and shortly replaced by Iberia's secret. So here it is as a picture.

As far as I am concerned, Iberia's secret is still safe. Perhaps it is that the meat looked thick but was so thin it had curled up under the ends to make the illusion. But whatever it was, it was tasty enough and the bread mopped up the grease from this course.
Just to complete the picture of my culinary adventures for you, the desert is not written but related by the waitress at lightning speed; perhaps to inspire a flash of inspiration? I recognised a word that sounded like 'flan' and pounced on it even as I remembered that this choice was anything but flan-like when I had chosen it before. I said "si" to the option offered and received a caramel pudding on a hard base (or that had gone hard round the edges with time) and, presumably, with the optional cream round it.
The coffee was placed in front of me as she asked "café?" so that was a done deal, and my adventure of the day was thus closed. I added all the sugar provided to make it drinkable and paid the fixed price fee.
So do you know what the Iberian secret is? If you do, do please tell me what i just ate! Thank you.

Terry

No where to sit

Sometimes people have no where to sit. That does not appear to have troubled this man who I spotted on the way back from my Sunday restaurant. There is usually something interesting on this corner. How long he can keep this up I am not sure, but he appeared to be quite at ease.

Clare told me of a similar stunt outside the Tate in London. Someone with both feet off the ground at once. Well I have now spotted a similar thing but I took a picture for you....

I think the owl is the key to the secret here.

Railways

Boys like trains. I did anyway. So to use the train every day should be interesting. At the moment I am trying to work out how the hinges work on the points, but there are none in the station and the train passes the others on route far too quickly. Still it can be a harmless pass-time on the way to work.
The other day my train was cancelled. Whilst I was waiting for the alternative I noticed some loading going on. I went closer to take a look, I had always wondered how they transferred the contents of the goods trains to other places - by road it seems.

A white loader fills a red truck. And a man bangs the underside when needed!

 The train I wanted arrived silently behind me and stopped short on the platform. I turned round just in time to run and catch the first coach.
So when I needed to get the TGV (Train Grande Vitesse - fast intercity train) I made sure I was in good time. The TGV station is the other side of the station I normally use but it takes 5 minutes to walk across the bridge. Mindful of needing to be on the right coach I looked at the platform and decided I could be a long way away, so I asked someone and she at least pointed me to the correct end. In the event I was 3 coaches out, which involved a walk in the train but it could have been worse.

Wide angle view of a straight platform. It is underground and very long to take a very long train.

On the way back, there was a train guide. I chose my spot on the platform. Once aboard, the high speed train is very smooth and after the first stop (mine was the second) it smoothly came to a halt in the middle of nowhere. The driver announced a breakdown - of the train in front! We waited. "Thank you for your patience and understanding". It's a phrase I hear a lot on the trains and metros. When we did go, it was to follow the train ahead which was limping along at 60km/hr, half speed. I arrived home 90 minutes late. I am glad it was on the way back, not on the way out!

Driving

Getting the address changed on your "permis de conduir" (driving licence) can be tricky. It takes a visit to your nearest "préfecture de police". You need the right documents too, so when I found my nearest station was 50 minutes away I prepared before I left. 

- driving licence 

- passport for ID

- gas bill as proof of residence

- check book, although I believe the service is free

- route plan. 

So off I set. Train. Bus. And a 9 minute walk to the cop-shop. 

The village was inside "outer Paris" but it did not feel like it. The streets were wide and the houses stone-built. It looked like the village had been absorbed by Paris as it grew and expanded, but that it had refused to modernise. And I can prove it. The photo below is of the police chase cars. Even non-experts can see that these are well overdue for an update. 

And the address change?

Well the préfecture de police was closed. It is Saturday after all. 

Cordialement 

Terry

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Sauce

Well if I am going to learn to cook, I have to do more than heat pizza. True, chilli and spaghetti have surfaced, and today's offering hardly qualifies me as a "chef". But I bought some ravioli partly to make me make a sauce for it.

This time I read up what I needed to do.

Avoid making lumps was the basic requirement that I gleaned from Delia. That and the proportions of butter, flour, and milk. I used one third of the quantities she proposed, and added cheese in the form of per-grated stuff (French cheeses are impossible to shred) and some parmesan that I did grate.

I used to think that I would have trouble waiting for the cooking times. But in the event I was too busy to be troubled by being sidetracked. I thought I would heat the ravioli after I started the sauce. Simmer the sauce, it said, for 6min; now for the ravioli - ok, in boing water for 8min. I had better get some water on then.

But it all worked out splendidly, partly because the time flew by so nothing had a chance to get cold! And NO LUMPS!

Because you like photos, here is one.

And what would be June's verdict? She would say "there is no colour". She liked it to have some colour. I suppose that is the sign of an expert.

I was happy that it was edible.

Cordialement
Terry

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Teeth

My visits to the dentist have not been frequent in France, so to have only 2 that need attention was possibly quite good. One needs to be pulled, the other is "delicate" and needs a plug made from a mould. Today I had my appointment for the 1st tooth.
I showed the dentist my insurance package and we agreed what it would mean for me. I have to pay something for the expensive filling. Tooth pulling is effectively free - the government pays, bless them.
So he sat me in the chair. Which do you want to do first? he asked. Hmm, I thought, get the mould done, and pull after. So I chose the mould. I was impressed that the anaesthetic took effect almost immediately. There followed nearly an hour of almost painless torture. Open wide, wider. Bite. Open again. Can I spit? No. Lots of whizzy noises, did that hurt? Have some more anaesthetic, this is taking some time to do. This plastic stuff takes 5 minutes to set, and the poor dentist's hand is in your mouth the whole time.
Hmm, I mused, feeling the tooth with my tongue. The hole is much larger now. Yes he said proudly. No improvement yet then, I thought. And then he plugged the hole temporarily. If you have hot or cold pain then call me. I will.
And the other tooth? No, not now, he said. You chose the other one. So I did. We booked an appointment for next Monday to finish this tooth.
He did not let me take photos. I was too tense anyway. So this is a photo-less blog.

Nuit Blanche

Nuit Blanche is one night in the year when Paris offers free events. There is an aid to finding them but I found it difficult to use because it just listed the artist, only when you open the link did you discover what the event was, and when in the night it happened.
So I went and photographed the nightlife. I did ask at the tourist information how to get the best from the evening but she was very honest and said she did not know. We agreed on a trial and error approach - actually hopeless in reality. If you ever visit this event, plan ahead and get to 2 or 3 you want to see. Anything else is a bonus (more that 3 if you want to stay up unit dawn - I didn't).
So here are some photos from the evening. I did get to see the event at the town hall. Cinema clips. I wondered what I was in for, I could not have guessed!
Click to open photos in full size for the best effect.

Notra Dame

Acrobat dancers were here. Not an official part of the night but I had seen them before and they were good.

Cafes were doing well.

This Paris street lamp failed to light up the road.

Hotel de Ville - Town Hall to you and me. Note the London bus.

Samsung high definition, probably in use for the HUGE cinema clips.

Balloons later given away. I did not get one.

The queue. I joined because they suddenly when in in large numbers.

Inside there is a large screen in the courtyard.

When I got in, the screening was of divers under water. No words but lots of diver noises. Then it ended, so I waited until it restarted. When it did, there was no title just a pulsing blob of living stuff. Underwater jelly creature, I wondered? No, the next picture is from the film and is of keyhole surgery in incredible detail. The tube you see on the left will soon shoot out a sack into which the earlier cut out tissue will be placed by pincers. Very graphic. I noticed there were not so many people watching this one.

I went home via the river so had more opportunity for photos. I loved the lights on the water, so you have lots to look at.

Hotel de Ville again, from the other side.

And here with the french flag lit up at the top.

So why "nuit blanche" - I am not sure. But thinking about it, it probably borrows from "carte blanche" since you are "free to visit anything".

If you are prepared to queue.

Comment :
A’ white night’ in English is a sleepless one. It’s probably why they expected you to go on ‘til dawn!
daddad