Azure Coast and Avignon: Road Trip!

The day after Cameron's birthday was dedicated to a road trip, so we settled up with our B'nB owners, loaded the car and headed south.

 

Orange; Aix-En-Provence; Aubagne; Toulon; Le Lavandou; St. Tropez; Cannes; Juan-les-Pins; Antibes; Nice.  The names rolled off the tongue and the scenery flitted by our little blue clown car, filled to the gills with luggage, wine, cold drinks, peaches and a variety of local cheeses and hams.  Yes, the le Roux's were well on their way again.  South of France, road trip!

 

 

Once we finally hit the beach roads, we spent most of the day driving from beach to beach, stopping ever so often for a leg stretch and for me to check the waters of the Med, ready and eager to swim. 

 

Collecting sea shells

Reminder for next time: bring reef shoes!

 

 

Alas, the water was freezing and the beaches quite disappointing, being not only mostly over populated with sun-worshipping holidaymakers, but also extremely rocky.  Not the pristine white beaches with soft sand that we are used to in South Africa and Mozambique, so no swimming for me.

 

It was a treat to look at the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean, see the fancy yachts, colourful umbrellas on the beaches and of course, all the different shapes and sizes of sunbathers, some of them having tanned themselves into most unnatural colours.

 

Just outside St. Tropez.
Snuck into the parking lot of this private beach, but could not get down to the water.
Now this is my idea of a good holiday!

Just past Cannes where we stopped for a late lunch, beach-side picnic.  We thoroughly enjoyed our ham, cheese and peaches and celebrated life with a cold beer for him and a miniature bottle of champagne for me.  After lunch, we just sat on the corniche and watched the people stroll along the beach, enjoying the last of the summer sun.  This is where I added another item to the wish list:  to spend at least two full weeks of summer somewhere along that particular coast.  Let's see...

 

The sun set as we slowly drove into Nice and we decided to end our Côte-d'Azur trip there.  After driving around and around the confusing one way streets of Nice a couple of times the now very grumpy husband finally found us a reasonably priced hotel where we checked in, freshened up and hit the streets again, in search of... well, more food of course.  Found ourselves a decent looking Indian restaurant, had some wonderful curry, then headed back to the hotel for some much needed sleep.  Who knew all that driving around could tire us out so much?

 

The next morning we set off again on the most direct route we could find to take us back to Avignon to finally explore the place I have been wanting to visit for so long.

 

The old town of Avignon lies within the greater city of Avignon and is completely enclosed by the original town wall.  We arrived in Avignon late afternoon and found a hotel just outside the wall, close to one of the many entrances to the old town.  After a quick check in and freshening up session we headed off to see Avignon proper before sunset. 

Town wall that completely surrounds old Avignon

 

Avignon used to be the Papal seat of John XXII, who commissioned the building of the Papal Palace in 1316 (It was only completed in 1370).  The town boasts many lovely old buildings, as well as new, modern ones.  It definitely looks like business is booming, with Haute Couture shops standing next to shops selling curios, standing next to quite a number of art museums.

 

The Papal Palace and square

 

Pssst! Brother, where did you get that fancy wingsuit?*

I noticed a sign for the Musée Angladon and we ducked in ten minutes before closing time, where the friendly curator allowed us free entrance and a quick glance around the ground floor of the museum.  We saw one Picasso sketch (I couldn't figure out the setting on my camera in time to take a flash-less picture), a couple of Degas paintings and also the painting I have been wanting to see:  Van Gogh's Wagons de Chemin de Fer (Railway Cars), painted in August 1888. 

 

Vincent Van Gogh, who is one of my favourite artists (closely followed by Picasso and Salvador Dali) spent two years in the Provence region, where he painted over 400 canvasses, the most famous of which is probably the breathtakingly beautiful 1889 painting, The Starry Night (Depicting the view outside Van Gogh's sanatorium window in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence). However, Wagons de Chemin de Fer is the only one on display in Provence.  For some reason I find the fact that the area that inspired and coaxed such magnificent work in and from Van Gogh, yet only has one of his paintings on show, extremely sad.

 

 

 

Way past sun set and after wandering the narrow, cobble stone streets of old Avignon for a couple of hours, we rewarded ourselves with a pint and a half of ice cold Guinness beer (my favourite), then headed back to the hotel for a much deserved snooze.

 

 

Up again early the next day, bought our train tickets to Marseilles, where we would catch our flight to Ciampino airport just outside Rome.  Italy, here we come!

 

 

* Wingsuit:  a type of skydiving suit with fabric under the arms and between the legs enabling the wearer to reduce his or her rate of fall.

 



Three Days in Provence...

...is not nearly long enough!

 

Strange how music and television can influence us.  I was still very young when I saw a dubbed television programme called "Die meisie van Avignon" (The girl from Avignon) in  the late 1970's and I have been wanting to visit Avignon ever since.  Then I heard the 1969 Peter Sarstedt hit "Where do you go to my lovely", and I was hooked on the region, made a promise to myself that I would one day visit the South of France to see what Avignon looks like and experience the Côte d'Azur.

 

For a trip down memory lane, click here: Theme song from "Die Meisie van Avignon" 

To listen to Peter Sarstedt's "Where do you go to my lovely", click here

 

With this in mind, and still on a bit of a high from our Leonard Cohen concert the previous night we got up very early on Sunday, 25^th August to start the next leg of our European adventure.  Humming "So long, Marianne" to ourselves, we hopped on the first of three trains for the day...  Off to Provence to meet Cameron and company for his 50^th birthday celebrations on the Monday.

 

I love train journeys, but I must admit that the romance of it wears off if you have exactly six minutes to gather all your luggage, jump off the train, run like mad to find the correct platform, board the next (and correct!) train, stow your luggage and find your assigned seats. 

Having first-hand experience of the precise Swiss transportation system and having been warned that, if we miss the second of our three trains, we will have a lot of trouble getting to Avignon on the same day, we ran between the two trains like insane people, dragging luggage, umbrellas and backpacks across the length of the station, down stairs, up escalators and into the next train carriage, just in time before the doors clunked shut behind us, literally with seconds to spare. 

 

Having cut my foot slightly on the escalator and thoroughly irritated with all the uncalled for exercise, I went into a sulk and slept the rest of the way, to be woken up in time to grab the luggage and repeat the same process for the last leg of our trip. 

Strangely enough, the second train left the Swiss station exactly on time, travelled the correct speed, by all accounts did not linger at any stops en route, but arrived at the French station twenty minutes late, so we were convinced that we missed the next connection.  Not so.  The French railway system is much more relaxed, it seems, and despite our panicked mad dash across the station, past Customs (where I did not have my passport stamped*) and despite being twenty minutes late, we still departed on the correct train for Avignon!

 
 

Arrived at Avignon station, rented a teeny-tiny little clown car (AKA a Citroen C1) and off we were again, to find our accommodation for the night in a small but lovely little town called Orange.  The decision to stay in Orange was two-fold: one, it was within spitting distance of Chateauneuf-du-Pape and, two, I love orange.  As soon as I saw a town called Orange on the map, I decided that I had to be completely surrounded by my favourite colour, even if for just once in my life!

 

For some reason we did not take any pictures of Orange.  We stayed in a gorgeous little Bed 'n Breakfast, we walked and walked the cobble-stoned streets of the town, passed massive chestnut trees and drinking fountains, we ate in a cosy restaurant mostly frequented by locals, so not a touristy place at all, but for some reason the camera stayed in the backpack the whole time.  Oh, correction, I took a picture of my food.  So, one picture taken in the very picturesque town of Orange.  Shame! 

The food was wonderful, but way too cutesy:  Fillet of beef with foie gras in a pastry parcel, some green stuff in the form of an upside-down muffin, a note (literally) of balsamic reduction and then some other veggie-type stuff I did not recognise fully but it was yummy, none the less!

 

 

On Monday morning we set off to the Chateauneuf-du-Pape vineyards and met our friends Cameron, his wife Claudia and the rest of their tour group (they were in the middle of a Mediterranean cruise) at the Cuvée du Vatican winery for a glimpse into wine making and, of course, a wine tasting.  The tour was very interesting and the tasting went by in a blur.  Then off to the nearby Chateau des Fines Roches for a superb lunch. 

 

Three Condies and a Wombat: 
Cameron, Claudia, Callum and Lorraine

After a deliciously boozy lunch we waved the Condies and company goodbye, promised to see them again in Rome and made our merry way back to the B'nB for a much needed siesta.

Lunch with a view!

 

 

Early Tuesday morning we pointed the nose of our little clown car in the direction of the French Riviera.  Côte d'Azur, here we come!

 

Later this week:  The Azure Coast and Avignon.

 

*  The borders between Switzerland and France, and between France and Italy seemed very fluid as my passport was not checked at any of these border crossings.  Found myself a little bit disappointed, as I now only have Swiss entry and Italian exit stamps in the passport to show for the trip!

 

Chop-chop!

Now this is a complete mystery to me.  I am not sure whether this is funny or really tragic. 

Today's topic:  Facebook. More specifically, Facebook friends.

 

I don't have a gazillion "friends" on Facebook.  I have my family, close friends, people I actually know and like.  In addition to them, I am also FB friends with a number of wonderfully likeminded people I "met" on-line when I did a creative writing course last year. I count them all as friends. Sixty-nine friends in total. 

I don't accept friend requests from strangers, I don't even accept friend requests from 99% of people I do know, without giving it a lot of thought.  I share private stuff, pictures, feelings, thoughts  (often completely random) on Facebook and therefore I feel I should only do that with people who know and possibly understand me.
 

So imagine my shock and horror when I noticed today that I suddenly only have 68 friends?  Who de-friended me? Why the sudden chop?

 

I started checking family and close friends. Nope, all there.  Then I checked my creative writing friends, then my Ammanite friends (Grammar Police, bless him, reckons it is Ammanites, I prefer Ammonites, but that's a story for another day).  School mates came next and this was easy, since I am not friends with a lot of people from either primary or high school.  Nope, no idea.

 

All in all I spent about an hour (ok, probably more) trying to figure out who was missing.  Who dumped me so unceremoniously?  This got me thinking...
 

Couldn't he/she at least say "goodbye"?  Sent a message?  Said look, you are dead boring, sayonara.  Or what about hey, I found your post about XYZ offensive, so goodbye forever. Don't call me, I'll call you.  Even listen up, I am only going to say this once, I am closing my FB account, don't try to find me, restraining orders to follow. 

 

All would have been better than the deafening silence, the bitter rejection! (A tad melodramatic? Imagine the seventeen page letters ex-boyfriends got from me in high school haha!* ) 
 

But I got nothing. Nada. Zip.  Sad thing is, I was clearly so close to this person that I missed him/her immediately. Not. 

How sad that the now unfriended friend was just another number.  Sorry, whoever you are.  Hope your other friends do better by you.**

***

 

*    Ok, ok, that carried on way beyond high school... Uhm...

** And my apologies to all those people I culled so unceremoniously from my friend list in the past.  Next time I'll say goodbye. 

***  Grammar Police and my best friend, Marilou (Actually Marilize - another long story why she's called Marilou) can't stop laughing at me about this... buggers!

 

Switzerland

Well, we are back from a wonderful twelve day trip to Switzerland, France and Italy.  Took us a couple of days to recover, but now things are back to normal, the much loved Grammar Police is back at work, Mila has stopped following me everywhere in case I disappear for days on end again, I have been cooking up a storm (last night was a sumptuous Madras curry), Eurotrip almost forgotten.

 

Before the memory fades and the reality of living in very close proximity to Syria takes over, let me tell you about our European jaunt:

 

As mentioned in previous posts, both André and I are big Leonard Cohen fans, so when we heard that LC would be performing in Zürich two days before we were due to meet up with birthday boy Cameron in the South of France, plans were adjusted and tickets were purchased. 

 

We found Zürich to be, uhm... well... very organised.  If the schedule states that a tram or bus will arrive at a certain point at 10:43am and depart at 10:46am, trust me, it does.  Time after time.  I was very impressed with the extreme organisation of the Swiss transportation system.  André, on the other hand, recons he would never be able to live in a place so completely devoid of chaos as we encountered in Zürich.  Even at the Hallenstadion, where Leonard Cohen performed, people formed two neat but very long queues at the entrance and patiently waited to be let into the theatre.  No need to get excited and form more than two queues, is there?  I found the severely organised country strangely comforting.  Who knew?

 

We spent a lot of time walking around the older part of Zürich, dashing in and out of stores, simply looking at what was available and comparing prices and products to those of Amman and Johannesburg.  I especially liked the COOPs, where you can buy anything from clothing and make-up to cheese and bottle openers, which we duly did.  I bought myself a mallet, which is almost impossible to get in Amman, unless I am looking in all the wrong places.  The man likes steak, you know?

 

Mallet purchased... ready for action!

It rained on Saturday morning and afternoon before the LC concert and we had to buy umbrellas to protect ourselves from the incessant rain. (I still have my very cute, bright orange one, but André lost his more manly black umbrella somewhere between the second and third train we took on the way to Avignon). 

 

As we were walking in downtown Zürich we happened upon a cozy Swiss restaurant that boasted 18 different types of fondues and 10 different ways to have raclette, so of course we had ourselves a raclette feast.  If you ever have the opportunity to have raclette, and if you love cheese, do not, I repeat, do not decline!  Raclette refers to the meal/dish, but also to the type of cheese you use.  Read more about it here:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raclette    Yummmmm...

 

We chose the traditional Raclette, with the addition of bacon. Boiled baby potatoes are kept warm in the red & white checked bag, bacon and mushrooms are cooked on the grill on top of the raclette and the cheese is melted underneath the bacon-grill.  Once the cheese is melted, you pour it over your potatoes and other veggies. Not a quick meal, more a feast that can last over an hour, if you can eat that much! 

Tummies more than full after a huge meal, we set off, back to the hotel to make ourselves pretty for Leonard (not that he cared haha). 

 

The concert started at 8pm sharp (of course) and a very energetic 79 year-old LC kicked off the show with "Dance me to the end of love", followed by 24 more amazing songs.  Old favourites like "Everybody knows", "Hallelujah", "Sisters of mercy" and "So long, Marianne" had the (admittedly golden oldie) crowd at his feet. 

 

I loved, loved, loved "Who by fire" and "Take this waltz", but my favourite song of the evening was "Suzanne", which he performed absolutely brilliantly.  For someone who turns 80 on the 21^st September this year, this man can still throw down, boogie and thankfully get up again! And so, item number 20 of my wish list was checked off in a most enjoyable fashion.

 

The next morning we were up early to catch our series of three trains to Avignon and the next leg of our adventure.  More about that later...

 

In the meantime, click on the link below to listen to Leonard Cohen performing "Everybody knows"

Listen to Everybody Knows

 

Oops!

And then there was one...

Four More Sleeps

I have been a very lazy blogger lately.  Look, I can say it is because I have had the flu and have not been feeling up to doing much lately. Or I can say we have been lying low and thus not much to report.  Alternatively I can blame my poor internet connection for not posting regularly, or the heat wave. Or, or... hmmm, can't really think of anything else. 

 

All very true, but not real reasons why I haven't been blogging.  I guess it comes down to... well... sheer laziness.  There.  I've said it.  I have been extremely lazy the past couple of weeks.  Laziness and the fact that I really have not been doing much at all since our return from Lebanon.  Other than going to my aqua aerobics classes, I've been watching television and napping as if prepping for Olympic events. 

 

Ok, ok, I also managed to cook and cleaned up afterwards on most days, did the laundry, experimented with a couple of recipes and even managed to read a chapter of a book I have been meaning to get to for a while now.

 

So, as you can see, thing have been extremely slow and relaxed in the le Roux household the last couple of weeks.  Ramadan left everyone tired and a bit emotional, Eid-al-Fitr went by all too quickly, although we spent most of it in our pyjamas (other than a trip to Haret Jdoudna, of course) and now we are counting down the days until we depart on our much anticipated European vacation (four more sleeps).

 

We leave for Europe on Friday morning and both André and I are very excited about the trip. First stop:  Switzerland.  We have tickets to see the Leonard Cohen concert on Saturday evening in Zürich and we can hardly wait!  Catching a Leonard Cohen concert appears on both our individual "wishful thinking lists".

 

 

On my (actual) list, attending the concert is item number twenty.  Of course, on André's (pie-in-the-sky-I-don't-do-make-believe-but-if-it-will-stop-you-nagging-me) list it would be way down towards the bottom of the list, after things like BASE jumping off Angel Falls, living a life as a professional skydiver in a (mostly) vegetable-free world where everyone lived on steak-eggs-and-chips, biltong* and beer!

 

After Switzerland, we are off to the South of France where I fully plan on crossing off item twenty five of the abovementioned list, namely eating cassoulet**, cheese and crusty bread and drinking red wine in the South of France, in summer.  We are also meeting up with friends (Cameron, Claudia and a bunch of their friends and family) to celebrate Cameron's fiftieth birthday at Chateauneuf du Pape.  Cannot wait.

 

After touring the South of France for a couple of days, all roads will lead to Rome and Toscana and dealing with items twelve (revisit the Trevi fountain) and twenty six (drinking white wine and eating cheese, crusty bread, Parma ham and fresh fruit under the Tuscan sun) of the list. Geez, if things carry on like this, I will run out of items to cross of my wishful thinking list soon! Not sure how I feel about that?

 

So, I will not be blogging for the next couple of weeks, but at least this time I have an actual excuse.  Bear with me, please?

 

Now, if I can only figure out a way to tell Mila that she's not coming with us...

 

A very accurate description of how I felt the last couple of weeks 

 

*  Cured spiced meat. Think beef jerky, but waaay better

** A bean, confit duck and pork dish specific to the region

 

 

Beirut and Jeita Caves

Don't know why is has taken me so long to write this week's post.  Ok, I had a very busy week, with double aqua aerobics classes, Schengen Visa applications and heaps and heaps of laundry to do.  On top of that, my old friend, Mr. Procrastination came around for a visit and has still not left.  So, if I don't write this now, it will never get done. 

 

A short but jam-packed visit that has left me "gat-oor-kop" (head over heels), truly, madly, deeply in love with Lebanon.  We saw and did so much that I find it too much for one post, so I will be posting several instalments about our visit.

 

As you know from previous posts, TVOR* and I visited Lebanon this past weekend.  We arrived to a sweltering hot, sticky and very humid Beirut around midday on Thursday and was met by our driver for the weekend, a very bald, incredibly jolly Mr. Hani, who seemed painfully shy at first but became almost over-friendly as the weekend progressed. 

 

Checked into the elegant Phoenicia Intercontinental on the Corniche and, after freshening up, André left for his business meeting while I wiled away the hours in the spa.  "Treated" myself to a mani-pedicure and was reminded of why I hate these things.  Someone with as low a pain threshold as I should never, ever let anyone near their delicate tootsies!  After a lot of ouch! owie! and damnit's, I hobbled off, grateful to be alive, albeit with perfectly manicured and pedicured hands and feet, much to the relief of the horrified manicurist.

 
 

Beirut, or Beyruth as the locals call it, is the battle scarred grand dame of Lebanon and reminded both André and I of Maputo, the capital of Mozambique.  The pre-Civil War (Civil War: 1975 – 1990) architecture is much the same as one can find in Maputo, with modern buildings popping up next to now decrepit art deco-style (amongst other styles) buildings, many of which still bear the scars of not only the Civil War, but also invasion(s) from the Israeli side of the border (Most notably the 1982 attacks and the 2006 war).

 

The Holiday Inn was just completed when the Civil War broke out and stands on the border between what was then known as the Christian side (East) and the Muslim side (West) during the Civil War. This hotel became the centre of many horror stories that unfolded during the war. 
 

 

One such story goes that the Christians and Muslims fought valiantly and vigorously for the right to make the hotel their stronghold.  One morning, after heavy gunfire, Christian soldiers took over the hotel, chased the Muslim soldiers to the top of the building, where they were promptly forced off the roof at gunpoint!  A couple of hours later, Muslims took back the hotel stronghold and chased the Christian soldiers to the top of the building, with very much the same end results.  Apparently this cycle repeated itself a number of times during the course of the war.

 

In the photos below you can see some of the damage done to the Holiday Inn.  The signs of shelling and heavy gun fire a stark reminder of a particularly bloody part of Lebanon's history.

 

 

After André's meeting, we took a leisurely stroll along the Corniche.  This was where we decided that Beirut reminded us of Maputo.  The weather was very much the same as in Maputo, there was a buoyant, almost party-like feel to it, locals were very friendly, but most notably, the juxtaposition of old and new buildings, the used and the abused, bullet holes and now defunct buildings ever reminding the observer of Lebanon's brutal past, much the same as in Maputo.
 

 

The building next to the site where the late President Rafik Hariri was assassinated

Monument erected on the exact spot where President Rafik Hariri's motorcade was bombed. 
Look at the damage to the building, not only from this bombing, but remnants of the Civil War.

 

 

On Friday morning we set off to the Jeita Grottos (caves), some forty kilometres outside of Beirut.  The Jeita caves is a set of two cave systems that spans almost nine kilometres in total.  To reach the Upper grotto you take a short but scenic cable car ride up, in-between the mountains.  Once you get to the grotto entrance, they insist you lock you mobile phones and cameras inside lockers, as no pictures are allowed inside the caves.  I had to "borrow" some pictures off Google Images to show you what some of it looks like.  I did not quite understand this policy.  Clearly people had been allowed to take pictures in the past and they even lit the Grotto up for music and dance festivals, so the "no camera" thing made no sense to me but... when in Lebanon...
 

Allegedly the Upper grotto boasts the world's largest stalactite, but I cannot vouch for this.  It was so overwhelmingly beautiful that I could not pick out the largest of the massive structures if you paid me.

 

Below are some pictures of the Upper grotto.  I half expected to hear organ music when we walked through one particular part of the cave.  Doesn't it look just like massive organ pipes? 

 

 
  

 
 

The Upper grotto is a set of massive, deadly quiet, damp chambers, with the occasional drip-drip-drip the only noise that breaks the silence.  There weren't many visitors while we were there, but everyone visiting the caves at the same time as us spoke in hushed whispers, as if by mutual agreement, so as not to break the almost hallowed silence that filled the thick, humid air.  
 

 

After a very long walk we arrived upon a set of small pools with crystal clear water.  Probably the halfway mark. The pools looked like miniature rice paddies one might find on the hills in the Far East somewhere, clear water cascading down and through each pool with a gentle, steady gurgle.  Here we tossed a couple of coins in one of the pools and made a wish. Wonder if it will come true?  I was a bit in two minds about the coin-story.  On the one hand it is a cutesy tradition, but tradition none the less, judging by the amount of coins in the two upper pools.  On the other, it smacked of littering, pollution and who was I to add anything to the otherwise pristine caves?  Anyway, coins tossed.  Wishes made. Fingers crossed.  End of story.
 

 

Compared to the Upper grotto's almost extreme heat and humidity, the Lower grotto was rather cold, but easily one of the most beautiful natural phenomenons I have yet come across.  After a short walk and many descending stairs, you reach the internal lake.  From there you travel by boat on the way-too-short trip around the caves.  Crystal clear water, ice cold to the touch made me wonder what it would be like to explore these lakes with scuba gear (And with the correct protection from the cold water, of course.  Oh, and a scuba diving course may also be helpful, while I'm at it!).

 

I find words completely inadequate to describe the magnificence that is the Lower grotto, so I'll end this post with some pictures (again, "borrowed" from Google Images) so you can see for yourself.

 

 

I'll try to cover the rest of the trip in my next post.

*The Voice of Reason

Honeymoon in Beirut: Part II

By all accounts, we are off to Beirut, Lebanon, for the weekend.  The Voice of Reason for work.  Me, not so much! Cannot wait.

 

Some people have "Bucket Lists".  Not me.  I do, however, have a wish list of things I want to do and / or see before I return to the Mother ship.  I composed this list last December while waiting for the hubby to return from one or the other mundane task and I add to it from time-to-time. 

 

Somewhere in the middle of the thirty seven items on my list, lies the desire to visit the Jeita Grotto, a series of cave systems that boast the world's largest stalactite.  I have no idea if I would be able to coerce my beloved to take the boat trip on the underground lake to go and visit the cave systems, but I sure am going to try!

 

I also would not mind seeing the Roman Baths, visit the old city of Batroun and of course, go see what Byblos (Oldest inhabited city in the world, inhabited since 8000 BC) is all about.  If I have my way, a trip to Downtown Beirut would also be thrown in the mix and then, of course, water baby that I am, I want to swim in the ocean. 

 

Wow, wonder how much we will be able to fit into the trip?  Only going for two nights...

 

 I shall endeavour to take pictures and share with you next week.  (As always, internet access permitting)

Jeita Grotto

 

Honeymoon in Beirut?

Off to the Lebanese Consulate to beg... Uhm... Apply for a visa to go to Beirut this coming weekend.

Will explain and repory back a little later today, internet signal permitting!

In the mean time, I leave you with this bit of wisdom:

Funk

Not in the best of moods today.  This does not happen very often, default factory settings being jolly, happy-go-lucky, ready to see the funny in almost everything.  So when I wake up in a not-so-happy mood, it kind of throws me off my game a bit.  Oh well, guess I'll just have to get over it.

 

Had ourselves a relatively quiet week last week.  The New Moon was spotted and Ramadan officially started last Wednesday. 

 

So far so good, although I have to confess to a sick and twisted longing for pork belly, which craving I finally succumbed to last night.  I cooked and scarfed it down with great enthusiasm, cheeks all pink and shiny. Happiness.  I know, I know, I am a sick person... Don't judge me.

 

Boredom got the better of me last week and I decided to try my hand at jam making, as any normal person does when bored, right?  Found a relatively simple recipe for sweet chilli jam and made it a couple of days ago.  Absolutely. Fabulous.  Since then I have been planning all my meals around what would go with the jam, with the result that the jar is now half eh... empty (On a good day I would say half full.  Maybe tomorrow).

 

Sweet Chilli Jam

 

What else?  Oh.  I started going to aqua aerobics classes again last week. I have joined a new class with a new instructor.  This woman has no sense of humour, does not understand my jokes and takes life very seriously.  She also has an amazingly toned body, proudly sports an eight-pack, not a six-pack and has such a muscular stomach that her belly button seem to have popped out. I don't think there was space for the belly button and abdominal muscles, so something had to give! So, despite her lack of understanding of my jokes, I love the classes.  A really good workout and I am hoping to report the popping out of my own belly button soon!

 

And that's all for now, folks.  Don't worry, my moods never last too long, it takes up way too much energy.  It has been pointed out that I very possibly also suffer from (a mild case of) ADD, so as soon as I see something shiny, I'll forget what upset me in the first place.  There are advantages to having certain disorders haha.

 

Since I am feeling down today, The Eagles' "Hotel California" and "A Whiter Shade of Pale" by Procol Harum have been fighting for possession of the mind today.  Here are the links.  Listen.  Join me...

Click here to listen to Procol Harum's "A Whiter Shade of Pale"

Click here to listen to "Hotel California" - The Eagles