A Glor-Ruy-ous Week

Ok, enough of the play on words titles.

Thanks to everything going smoothly with the move, we only needed to spend a day in Geneva during our week in France. The rest of the time was spent like any other stay at Vero's parents in Ruy - a mix of one or two local excursions, market and shopping trips and days spent lazing around the house.

We hoped for some better weather however up until Tuesday the English summer decided to stow away in our car and join us in the Rhone-Alpes region. After that however, out came the sunshine and boy did it come out. Clear blue skies and soaring temperatures meant taking it easy and soaking up the sun (not to mention lunch and dinner outside on the terrace most days).

The first part of the week we visited Philippe's apartment in Villefranche. We dodged our way through thunderstorms through the Dombes where I did want to stop and take photos of the hundreds of ponds and lakes surrounded by glowing sunflowers however the weather and the lack of parking spots put paid to that. The Dombes are amazingly pretty on a good day, as well as quite flat and almost traffic free off the main routes, so I am determined to return another time by bike to enjoy it more (and take some pics). We arrived in time for a trip to the Casino (the supermarket) where we gambled on some goodies for dinner and won. A nice terrine de canard and some pork and beef brochettes were on the menu, not to mention some stunningly good cheese.

The next day Philippe left for work and we pottered around downtown Villefranche which is basically one long street. Villefranche is nice - it is a mix of old, new and something in between - you can see a touch of a modern French provincial town mixed with an ancient village with its tight streets and crumbling but yet typically charming buildings. It is dotted with architectural and archaeological treasures which are not immediately obvious, but good fun to dig out if you have the time and the weather. Unfortunately the rain was still with us so all we did was dive in and out of some shops saving the touristy thing for another time maybe. We did extract some nice quiches and a couple of nice cakes from the local shops for lunch before returning to Ruy again dodging thunderstorms.

The garden was looking very alive. Ruy has had a fair bit of rain this summer considering its southerly location and mixed with the strong sunshine the fruit trees and shrubs have gone nuts, growing at quite a rate. After our excursion to Geneva on Wednesday, Thursday was spent with the obligatory trip to the weekly market in nearby Bourgoin-Jallieu in the morning, some lazing around watching the Tour de France on TV after lunch, and then a nice stroll through the village to a shoe shop (women huh!) late afternoon. It was then I decided to get the camera out of hibernation and take some shots of the garden and the village , photos of which I have dotted throughout this article.

Friday the 13th loomed and I was doomed to a trip to the local LeClerc hypermarket - oh what a terrible thing to have to do. I really like the supermarkets as the amount of different food and drink available is really quite staggering. I could spend hours wandering around the fresh produce aisles if it wasn't for the fact they are like the arctic, not good when you are dressed in shorts and t-shirt. I am so looking forward to trying as much of it as possible..so maybe in the winter I'll spend more time as I will be sufficiently clad to survive longer than 2 minutes without having to run back near the bakery to defrost. Our raid consisted of mainly cheese, wine and biscuits, restraining ourselves further knowing in seven weeks we would be back for good. I canot get over the fact that the cheese, wine and cakes have such great names. Who would call a cake a St Honoré other than the French - and I must say it tasted as good as it sounds. A rich buttery pastry shell filled with wonderfully sweet and creamy creme patissiere (nice custard for the un-educated), topped with fresh creme-chantilly (whipped cream), and caramel covered choux balls. Wonderful.

That evening we went to the nearby village of Trept for a soirée with friends of a friend. Our host made a massive paella (he is of Spanish origin) - there were 20 of us around the table and there was still some left over after we all had two helpings. It was a very social relaxed evening with no care for any dinner table etiquette. After we washed down with some nice rose we were treated to a pre-bastille day fireworks display in the village which considering the size of the village was very spectacular.

On Saturday we went to watch the Tour de France go through (a separate post will follow for this) and Sunday was spent packing for the return, watching the Tour again on TV go through some majestic Alpine scenery and eating like kings. Again. Oh I am so not going to miss English food (except for the occasional pork pie and clotted cream).

Dover and out

So as part of our preparations to move to Geneva we took a week off last week to drive down to France and take some of our more precious belongings which we can lay our hands on before any removal vans arrive.

We went via Dover so with an hour or so to kill we decided to head up on deck and take yet more photos. We took some going over and some on the return however here they are all together.

We went via Seafrance and found it to have a touch more class and quality than their P&O counterparts. I should also mention that they were one of the Tour de France's official sponsors - whatever floats your boat eh...

Switch-ze-land

OK so most of you reading this know, however until all was written in stone, I's dotted and T's crossed, we did not want to make any reference on this blog to our biggest news for quite some time. After years of deliberating we are finally taking the plunge and moving back to Vero's home country of France - oh wait hang on - should that read Switzerland?

The way things have worked out is that Vero is now taking a new job in Geneva and we were (and still are) planning to join the masses of Frontaliers who commute from the French border towns to Geneva every day (well maybe not weekends). However thanks to her new employers we'll be taking up temporary residence in Geneva itself for a few months until we decide where we want to live/find somewhere to live. We should be moving at the end of August.

So now the blog can take up its real purpose - to let all our family and friends know how we are getting on, and also hopefully some more personal takes on life in the shadow of the mountains (or should that read fountains?).

So busy times lie ahead however we'll do our best to ensure the blog is kept up to date. Until I find work I'll be out and about exploring our new home city and its immediate surrounding area, and once we are mobile there will be endless excursions into the Alps and beyond.

Where's summer?

OK - so we may not have many readers yet however the 3 of you loyal fans have probably been wondering why no posts for the last month. Well the main reason is our weekends, when we would normally go out and take our pictures to inspire our blog, have been rained off. The bits in between haven't been much better either.

So what do we attribute this wet weather too? If global warming is upon us then where the heck is it. Bring it on I say...I can deal with smaller polar ice caps if it means the highlight of my weekend is something better than the trolley jams in the veg aisle at Tesco on a Sunday morning.

Thankfully we did manage to shake the dust off the camera a couple of weekends ago - it was a rare weekend when the weather was fine and dry. Saturday was spent at Mount Edgecumbe country park along with the rest of Swilly. Not weather for ducks (have I used this joke before?) but we did see them.... aaaaaah. Oh and moorhens too.



Yes, these photos were taken in their natural habitat (in a pond dodging giant pieces of stale kingsmill being thrown at them by well-meaning toddlers in burberry caps), and not as they swam past our front door last night...

The next day we did escape to the moors - it was T-shirt weather except for the bit at the the top of the tor. We went to Belliver, near Postbridge. Its a nice spot set on the edge of a pine forest nestled alongside the river Dart, popular with picnickers (including someone who brought a giant barbeque) and inflatable dinghy lovers.



We escaped the throng, and walked through the forest ending up at Belliver tor, where some teens on a school trip were struggling to read the map back to the car park. I showed them the way and felt like a seasoned mountaineer in my khaki hikers outfit - no wonder they asked me for help. Mind you they did need it - their first question was - 'can you tell us which tor this is?'. Despair could have led me to making fun of them but I couldn't have 6 missing teenagers on my conscience.

Since then weekends have meant either sneaking out to town in between rubbish weather or staying in and doing 'chores'. The only nature photos taken have been of the fat sparrows on the bird feeder. Here's an action shot for you, however its drama is somewhat ruined by the grey background..

Well, we are off to France for about a week on 7 July so hopefully I can top up on vitamin D and get some better pics then. In the meantime its watching the recorded games of years gone by on the Wimbledon coverage (as this years will never happen) and sailing to work....

A Gorge-eous Walk

Well this weekend is the last weekend we have our National Trust membership so the question posed - which of the many great properties around Plymouth do we visit. The decision came to Lydford Gorge. My justification is because it is all about rugged nature - there's no elaborate gardens or pompous country house. Vero's reasons - she wanted to see the bunnies that usually live near the gift shop!

It was an overcast and not particularly warm day, and having arrived already tired from a early wake up (damn summer mornings!) and a morning spent overhauling the planting on the balcony, the prospect of a 3 mile walk over undulating terrain would normally be uninviting.

However, Lydford Gorge is not the Grand Canyon or Yosemite Valley but it is spectacular in its own unique way.

The walk starts with a trek through dense woodland overlooking the gorge, where you can only hear the water crashing down the river below (and the occasional shouting tourists). You cross the heads of several small waterfalls before reaching the brook the starts to tumble down and becomes White Lady falls. Once down in the valley you wander alongside a calm and shallow stretch of the river Lyd which betrays what is to come. Usually there's a dipper or two to be seen however too many people around for what is usually a skittish bird.

Then as you come around a corner the falls appear, cascading 30 meters down over black stone. A definite photo op for all.

Then its the walk up through the gorge, alongside the river which varies between calm shallows to plunging mini-cascades and pools, including the spectacular (but too busy today) Devils Cauldron. The walk itself is quite precarious too, especially when holding an expensive camera! There's plenty of wildlife too - trout in the river with dippers and grey wagtails flashing up and downstream. The flora, in particular the large ferns, add an effect - sometimes you think you are in a jungle in central America.

By time we finished we were pooped - even too tired for a cream tea and Vero's normally mandatory hour in the gift shop!All in all a place we would always recommend to visit. We probably won't be back to visit for a while however it will always be fondly remembered.

Happy 5th Birthday Beth

Monkey!

Every Cloud has a Silver Lining....

Since Sunday evening the weather here in the UK has been miserable, with no real sign of it letting up for the weekend. Shame really as plans were afoot to make use of the remaining weekends left before our National Trust membership expires at the end of May. Oh well, I guess Lydford Gorge would be more like Lydford lake by now...weather for ducks?

Its been a strange week. I have had sporting highs and lows, I scored my first hat trick at football on Monday despite a 10-6 defeat. Then my mixed hockey team won their first game of the season on Wednesday but I walked out of it with either badly bruised or cracked rib(s)! Ouch they hurt.

Being stuck in by the weather is even worse considering I don't even recognise our home. One bedroom has been gutted of contents so it can be decorated and the contents are strewn systematically throughout our tiny flat wherever there is free air space. I'm sat here right now with the keyboard and monitor on the dining table trying to ignore the Blair resignation blah blah on TV.

However, as the title suggests, every cloud has a silver lining. Not because I have poured a nice glass of red wine (a nice Spanish Tempranillo Cabernet), nor because I am about to retrieve some of Véro's home made rhubarb and red berry crumble from the oven and smother it in clotted cream - its the big news that after eight great years rubbing shoulders with 'Uncle Sam' in California and Florida, Dad and Sonia are coming home to the UK.

So, with the lack of local photo opportunities this weekend, and in honour of all the kind hospitality and amazing holidays we have had in Folsom and Jacksonville, here's a pictorial tribute to their great adventure which we were so lucky to have a small part in.

Bon voyage, guys!

(Oh and you might a spot a theme below....)