Vive les vacances!

That end of term feeling has now arrived at Reminiac.

Iona’s best friend breaks up from school at mid day today and we are off to Malestroit this morning to collect her and all her bags, books and paraphernalia that goes with school life!!

Iona and Joe have five more days left of school but on one of those days they are visiting the biodiversity gardens at La Gacilly and on Friday this week they are off horse riding all day with the school. Each term the sport changes, over the last couple of years they have done cycling, rugby, archery, athletics, sailing and this term they have spent half a day a week horse riding.

Homework has finished and I get the feeling that the wind down has commenced !!

The Bretons can't make cakes

The Bretons can’t make cakes, BUT they can make delicious bread and pastries.

 Over the last ten years I have been on a mission to find the BEST pastry cake. It has been tricky but I’m up to the challenge. For years I searched for the best pain aux raisin….then I discovered Kouign amann (no, I can’t pronounce it either!!).

This ‘cake’ brings all the Breton bread / pastry making skills together. A kouign amann is a flaky caramelized cake made from bread dough, butter and sugar and is absolutely delicious especially when served warm. It is probably best not to dwell too long on its calorific content…

The origins of the kouign amann are uncertain. Did it stem from an unsuccessful batch of bread that was dusted with sugar and butter? Was it inspired by a Norwegian dessert, as the two countries were linked during the sardine fishing era? Or was it simply created during a family get together? It is said to have been invented by a Douarnenez baker during the 1860’s.

The kouign amann is not easy to make, and the old proverb, ‘make it if you want, successfully make it if you can’, particularly applies to this cake.

My challenge now, is to find the BEST kouign amann in Brittany. As it is very tricky to make, the quality varies enormously, but I promise you, one mouthful of a very very good kouign amann and you will be hooked!!…The best kouign amann so far has to go the boulangerie at Saint Martin sur Oust.

My quest continues, so if anyone has anyone has tasted an exceptionally good kouign amann please let me know.

A new doctor… offering homeopathic treatments. Will it work?

Joe suffers from nosebleeds. They always occur during the night and are worse during the summer months and at the moment he is having three or four a week

Our doctor has recommended an operation. I am not keen.

Yesterday I made an appointment with a different doctor. We have found that with most things… if there are two ways of doing something, the French will do it one way, the English another and usually the best way would be to amalgamate the two practices !!.. This is true with the medical care. The bureaucracy involved in setting up the paperwork to allow you to get into the French medical system is HUGE… it took us about four years but once you are in, the care is second to none. For example, doctors tend to work on their own, there are not the huge practices that you get in the UK. In France you are not tied to a particular doctor and of course, doctors specialise  or have interests in various areas of medicine, so you could and people do, see one GP for their arthritic problems another for controlling asthma and perhaps another for their diabetes. This is all perfectly normal. Of course the risk here that your medical notes are all over the place and it is the patents responsibility to advise each doctor what medication they are taking.

Well, I heard of a doctor in Caro, he is a conventional GP but he also advises on homeopathy and alternative medicine. So off we go.

The Doctors surgery?

I follow the directions and find this building. Could this be the surgery?, Yes, there is a plaque by the door.

We go in. The building is deserted. The front door leads straight into a deserted waiting room.

The waiting room..... we wait.

Does anyone know we are here? Whilst we wait I look around. On the notice board there is a list of services that the doctor provides. I gather that his wife is a midwife and she offers post natal and gynecological services as well.

The Doctors' price list

Another huge difference in France, is that you have to pay for each consultation but most/all of the charges can be claimed back. Hypnosis and verruca removal are also offered !!..

After five minutes the doctor arrives and we are led into his office. He examines Joe and prescribes two sorts of Arnica for the nosebleeds. He notices that Joe also suffers from hay fever and offers two different sorts of homeopathic granules for his hay fever instead of the conventional medicine he is currently using. He advised, homeopathy doesn’t work for everyone or for every condition, for example, he explains I do not recommend homeopathic treatments for lowering blood pressure but we can try it for hay fever and if it doesn’t work Joe can go back to the conventional treatment.

I am impressed with this doctor, he seems to be effectively combining conventional and alternative medicine.

We go to the pharmacy and leave with 4 brightly coloured tubes of homeopathic granules which (as with all conventional medicines) are free of charge (this applies to adults as well).

We now have to wait and see if the nosebleeds stop…..

English Breakfast in France

Breakfast. My favourite meal of the day.

I know some people struggle with eating breakfast and it appears that a growing number of children, both sides of the channel, are going to school without any breakfast.

This has been recognised by many schools across France and this week a huge number of schools have dedicated a precious hour out of the school week to stress the importance of a good breakfast.

Everyone in the class had to stand up and say what they had for breakfast.

Joe,' Banana, poached egg on toast and apple juice.'

Teacher,' Très anglais, mais bien.'

Crotte de Mouton.

The preparations for Reminiac’s summer fete are gathering pace.

Another meeting was held yesterday to discuss the games / activities.

As well as the traditional ‘palet’ and ‘sabot’ games two new items have been proposed.

Tattoos. Christine, has volunteered her services to draw / paint temporary tattoos. Fantastic idea… the children will love it !!..

The second proposal concerns the  first tombola prize, the sheep. The sheep is being delivered to the village green at 8.00am. I hadn’t realized that this next game is a very traditional game at summer fetes all over Brittany. The sheep will be penned in a square area and the grass within the pen will be marked with chalked squares. The object of the game is to guess which squares will be ‘crotte’ free when the sheep is given to his new owner at 6.00pm.

I am sure I will never get to grips with the idiosyncrasies of the French culture !!

400 games and not a computer screen....Is this possible?

This past week has been pretty showery. Thankfully, most of the days are dry, yesterday the rain started at 4.00pm, but if there is a showery day during your stay in Brittany I have the perfect solution!

An afternoon at Voyajoueurs, Monteneuf.

Voyajoueurs, Monteneuf

Just five minutes away on the edge of the forest of Monteneuf is a building crammed with over 400 games from Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia.

There are cards to play, dice to roll, marbles to shoot, pins to bowl, tops to spin, words to find, pawns to move, games to win ! There are games of strategy, skill, ambiance, thinking, speed and reflexes.

Over 400 games

It is a fantastic place and it really is suitable for all ages, there are games specifically for very young children and others requiring huge levels of skill and patience.

There is one drawback… there are no computers or screens at Voyajoueurs !!… but, I have been told by previous guests with teenaged children that even without computer games, it is cool.

Always check your fly….

OK.. am totally embarrassed. Still red as I write, in fact why am I writing this…

We have just spent the afternoon in the village hall celebrating Yann and Beatrices’ 40^th wedding anniversary. Throughout the afternoon four people came up to me and looked me straight in the eye and said,’ So you’ll be coming into some money soon then.’

Getting increasing paranoid throughout the afternoon. What rumours are circulating about me ?

In the car, on the way home I mentioned that I thought there were rumours circulating.

‘What did they say to you?’ Mark asked.

Weirdly, the same thing, that I was going to come into money very soon.’ I replied.

Iona, burst out laughing…’That means that your trousers are undone.’

I looked down…oh no, my trouser zip had been undone all afternoon……

Why are Breton Oysters so good?

The Breton oyster farmers will argue that it is due to their unrivalled expertise that has been handed down through the generations. This is probably true, but the quality is also due to Brittany’s outstanding waters. The strong currents constantly mix the water, giving the oysters all the plankton they need to ensure healthy growth.

Brittany harvests 12 types of oyster, and the real oyster connoisseurs will tell you they all have their own distinctive taste.

Not only do oysters taste delicious but they also contain proteins of superior quality with essential amino acids which the body needs for tissue formation and repair. They are also an excellent source of vitamin B12.

So, when you are next in Brittany, head for Pénerf and pick up a kilo or two of oysters !!

The village is now in full swing organising the Summer fete.

An emergency meeting was called yesterday evening to discuss the first prize in the tombola.

First prize in the tombola is a live sheep. A couple of weeks ago the presidente of the Summer fete Association distributed sheets of tombola tickets for us to sell… so if anyone wants a tombola ticket to win a sheep please let me know !!!… not sure how Brittany ferries will deal with a sheep in your boot though !!…

Anyway, there have been lots of questions regarding this sheep… is it a lamb or a sheep? (When does a lamb become a sheep?)… I have kept very quiet during the farmers’ wives debates as my livestock knowledge is VERY limited !!.

Suffice to say, tombola ticket sales have been lost as we don’t know the exact age of the mouton/agneau.

To resolve this problem, the presidente arranged a meeting with the farmer, who is selling a sheep/lamb to the Association. At 8.00 pm we all trooped up to his farm and he proudly showed us his sheep. He pointed out the one that he would be selling to us. It was born in March…. so does that make it a lamb or a sheep… I am still none the wiser. The other women, all farmers’ wives nodded knowledgeably.

The second prize are two lapineau (baby rabbits), the third prize are three poussin (baby chickens).

At the last meeting I questionned the decision to have all live animal prizes as some people live in towns or may not have the knowledge (me !!) to look after a sheep. Nine women looked at me incrediously, ‘Mais Nicole, un mouton est super, tout le monde veut gangner un mouton.’  I have a lot to learn about country living.

Well, my questioning must have triggered something as the forth prize is a suitcase !!.

Have Iona and Joe done enough to pass into the ‘classe supérieure’ ?

During May we have enjoyed a bank holiday every week … add in the ‘pont jours’ and really the French don’t work a great deal during May !! I am sure the May bank holidays are there to ease them gently in to les grandes vacances of July and August.

But we were all back at work and at school today. Last week, Iona had exams every morning and afternoon, the ‘evaluation nationale’, which I think is similar to the 11+ but it doesn’t determine which school she goes to. My understanding is, that these exams are just to give a global view of the education standards.

Today, brown envelopes were brought home from school. Have Iona and Joe done enough to pass this academic year and to pass into the ‘classe supérieure’ ?

Each year about 10% of children have to redo their academic year, so bringing home THE brown envelope is pretty nerve wracking …

Iona first… whooppi, she goes to college next year. Joe, yippee… he too passes into the next class.
We are happy in Reminiac this evening….

The realities of country living....

Iona and Joe were invited to a sleepover to a friends’ house Saturday evening.

Sunday morning, very bleary eyed they returned home.

‘Was it fun?’ I asked.

‘Too cool’, replied Joe. ‘Claude’s papa caught a rabbit in their garden. We weren’t allowed to hold it because it might have fleas.’

‘Where is it now?’ I asked
.
‘In their freezer.’ Joe relied, searching for his transformer.

‘What, he just put it in the freezer?’ I asked getting somewhat alarmed.

‘No’, Joe replied, now getting a little exasperated with all my questions, ‘Claude’s papa hung the rabbit up by its back legs in the garage , took its skin off… do you know it all came off in one bit, and then took all its guts out, THEN he put it in the freezer.’

‘Did this upset you?’ I asked my eight year old son.

‘No, the rabbit was eating their vegetables.’

Iona slouches into the kitchen, ‘Did Joe tell you, their were 7 baby rabbits in the dead rabbits tummy.’

AAaaaah… too much country living, we need to get back to a city.

The African savannah in…….. Brittany?

We are having a sneaky five day holiday… no school on Wednesdays, Thursday was a bank holiday and all the schools are shut today,,, why go to school for just a Friday!!.
Yippee, so today we went to Branféré Parc. What a fantastic place. Branféré Parc is involved in the preservation of 24 protected species. Absolutely no cages here, the 1,000 species are kept in relative freedom within the 40 hectares of watering places linked together by cascades, wide meadows, islands and undergrowth.

The African plaine

Suddenly we came upon, The plain of Africa. It looked exactly like the African savannah and as we looked we saw giraffes, ostriches, zebras, kudus, pygmy hippopotamuses and wildebeasts all grazing together in total harmony. Amazing.
We turned a corner, and in front of us were nets, huge nets in the trees…an aerial trail in the trees is made of 1700 square metres of acrobatic nets. Wow, what an adventure !! We climbed onto the nets, no harnesses required, and from high up in the trees we could see over the African Plain….

A treetop adventure !!

To finish our visit we watched a remarkable high flying show where a collection of 120 birds (storks, pelicans, flamingo, eagles, vultures, kites, hawks and multicoloured parrots) fly literally just a few inches above your head.

Birds, birds everywhere !!!

We had a fantastic day… and if you do come to Brittany this summer it is well worth a visit !!

Labelled as Les Anglais. Offensive?

We will always be known as ‘Les Anglais.’

If we book a table in a restaurant, order something from a shop or make an appointment with dentist we  rarely have to give our name. We are ‘Les Anglais’.

Yesterday, I was asking about a kettle and the shop assistant shouted to her collegue,’ L’anglaise wants the Phillips kettle, do we have one?’

Just further proof that however much I try to improve my pronounciation I will never be able to hide my English accent!!

At this point I smile, as everyone looks at the ‘l’anglaise’ wanting to buy a kettle.

I feel I should be offended by this label, is it similar to a sexist remark?

But, I am not in the slightest bit upset, amused, yes, but not offended.

I guess, like any remark, it is usually HOW it is said, and I have never been referred to as l’anglaise in a nasty way.

It is quite a luxury not having to share the sofa with a nail gun!!.

We need a shed. For ten years we have needed a shed. For ten years I have nagged Mark about a shed.

As we don’t have a shed his tools are everywhere, in the hall, under the kitchen table, under the stairs… he can never find anything and I keep tripping over the circular saw in the lounge… ohhhh here I go again….

Finally, he has got fed up of my nagging and has converted a small ruin on the side of the house into a rather nice shed complete with work bench and racking for all his tools. Perfect.

 Last weekend all the tools were moved into the new shed. It is quite a luxury not having to share the sofa with a nail gun!!.
I hadn’t realised quite how many tools Mark had until I saw them all lined up… perhaps we should get a lock?.. this shed is quite exposed.

Mark gave me the, ‘Will she EVER stop nagging look’.  Saturday evening we have a secure shed (with a lock!!)  and a house tool free !!..

All safe....

Yesterday, I came home from dropping the children off at school to find two men with electric screwdrivers dismantling the lock!!!..

Thankfully they were electricians whom Mark had asked to install a couple of sockets into his new shed…. but maybe we need a ‘beefier’ lock !!

Friday Night. Galette Night.

There aren’t too many takeaways in rural Brittany…. In fact I think our closest takeaway restaurant is 45km away!!..

So instead of a takeaway night the French have a ‘galette night’. In Brittany, this is usually Friday evening.

Galettes are savory crêpes (pancakes), they are larger than crêpes and are usually made with buckwheat flour. The traditional (une galette complète) filling is a slice of ham, grated emmental cheese and an egg cooked inside the galette. However, you can really put what you like into a galette, sausages, bacon, scallops, prawns…..

Over the last few weeks I have been trying to find an original galette receipe, but I have come to the conclusion that no such thing exists !!

It seems everyone has their own receipe. The traditional batter receipe appears to be just buckwheat flour mixed with salt and a little water, but other women that I have spoken to add either one or two eggs, maybe some butter or cream, some add oil, others cider or beer and some even add buttermilk.

There is absolutely no point trying to work out if the batter should rest or not, as it can be anything from an hour to overnight !!..

All I can say, is that they are absolutely delicious and I would recommend anyone coming to France to take a trip to the locally Crêperie to enjoy a galette or two and of course it needs to be washed down with a cup of Breton cider !!

French nationality, or not?

I peeked inside the letter box. An envelope says ‘Ministère des Affaires Étrangères et Européennes’.

Could this be ‘The Decision’. Do we have French nationality or not?

I tear open the envelope, a formal letter and four printouts, two for Mark, one for me and one for Iona. What about Joe?, as he was born here is he automatically French?.

I stare at the letters and the print outs. The ironic thing is….. I don’t understand a word of it !!.

Le jour de la libération

WWII Victory Day (la fête de la victoire, le jour de la libération) is a holiday to celebrate the end of World War II and the French people's freedom. It is the anniversary of when Charles de Gaulle announced the end of World War II in France on May 8, 1945.

Today, WWII Victory Day, is a public holiday in France so post offices, banks, schools and many businesses are closed.

Many people attend parades and church services on May 8 each year to celebrate the end of World War II and the freedom of France from Nazi oppression. They also sing patriotic songs and display the French national flag on their homes and public buildings. The mood on WWII Victory Day is generally joyous but people may also make time to remember family members or others who died during World War II. In the past, World War II veterans played an important role in the celebrations but many of them are now older and some are unable to perform a public role.

Back on May 8, 1945 Charles de Gaulle, the leader of the Free French Forces, announced the official end of World War II. Church bells rang to communicate and celebrate this message. It marked the end of a six-year war and the Nazi oppression in France, which resulted in millions of deaths.

May 8 and 9, 1945, were joyous days but it took some time for WWII Victory Day to become established as a day of celebration and a public holiday.

It wasn’t until April 1, 1965, the government announced that May 8, 1965, would be a special holiday to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the end of World War II. This public holiday was only observed once, in 1965 to celebrate the 20^th anniversary of the end of WWII.

In 1975 the French President decided that there should be no official or national commemoration of the end of World War II. Many veterans protested against this decision and continued to commemorate WWII Victory Day locally on May 8.

On October 2, 1981, WWII Victory Day became a public holiday. After much public debate, it also became an official national holiday in 1982.

The Netherlands v Hungary

 The battle between Sarkozy and Hollande continues.

The campaign officially ends at midnight Friday, before the polling stations open on Sunday. The last votes can be made at 6.00pm when the polling booths across France close.

The votes are then counted and the results are usually available before 7.00pm. It is however, illegal to publish the results in France before they are announced on French television at 8.00pm

However,  neighbouring Belgium and Switzerland have a keen interest in the forthcoming election results and are currently looking for loopholes in the current legislation which prevents them from broadcasting these results until 8.00pm..

Add the speed of the internet to the equation, along with France's 23 million Facebook and three million Twitter accounts, and the law banning result predictions before 8:00pm appears increasingly unworkable.

On French social networks, users were discussing a variety of ways of getting around the embargo, including renaming the candidates after countries and presenting the results as sports wins.

Some suggested renaming Hollande as The Netherlands and Sarkozy as Hungary, where his father was born.

Give Lily of the Valley to someone today....

 

The Fête du Travail (Labour day), the first of the Official holidays in May.  This public holiday celebrates the social and economic achievements of the labour movement.

On May 1st, 1561, King Charles IX of France received a lily of the valley as a lucky charm. He decided to offer a lily of the valley each year to the ladies of the court.

It has now become the tradition on May 1^st to give lily of the valley to your friends and family as a symbol of springtime and to wish them happiness. It is said that whoever finds a lily of the valley with 13 small bells will be particularly lucky !

It is the only day one can sell flowers on the streets without official authorization and without having to pay tax !!

Last Minute Preparations.

It has been raining for the past week. With the Vide Grenier just 2 days away everyone in Reminiac is hoping the this spell of wet and windy weather will break.

Tomorrow we will be marking out the ‘car boot’ pitches, collecting the flowers and plants from the local nursery and I have been charged to make 200 cupcakes… The cupcake trend bypassed Brittany and the Bretons love them !!… If anyone has any good cupcake recipes please let me know… I need some fresh ideas… the carrot and orange ones didn’t go down too well last year !!…

With the stall holders arriving at 6.00am on Tuesday morning we need to get as much organised tomorrow as possible….

Here’s hoping for a dry Tuesday !!

Will France become a bilingual nation or will they resist ?

 France is a very proud nation. They are proud of their country, of their heritage and of their language.

The French take their holidays in France. I am not sure of the exact percentage, but I wouldn’t mind betting that at least 80% of the French take their holidays in France. I have been told on numerous occasions, ‘why should we take our holidays anywhere else, we have culture, some of the best beaches in the world, mountains for skiing and fabulous countryside.’ It is pretty hard to argue against this as it is all true !!.

The internet is however making the world a smaller place and English words are slowly creeping into the French language. Computer games and operating systems are increasingly in English and the younger generations are learning English without even realising it.

Yesterday, a friend called round for a coffee and although I know she understands more English that even she is prepared to admit we talk in French and she puts up with my appalling pronunciation and terrible conjugasion. Her mother is arriving in soon and I ask when. ‘Dans 4 weeks, eh semaines.’ She looks at me shocked. ‘I have never said an English word in a French sentence before.’

Will France become a bilingual nation or will they resist ?

If it is raining in Brittany you can be skiing in the mountains !!

As some French schools are still on holiday, some are lucky enough to be holidaying in the mountains.

As they say in France… Quand il pleut en Bretagne, il neige en montagne!

It is definitely raining in Brittany so it follows that it is snowing in the mountains. And it is !!!…

Iona’s friend emailed her this photo from the Pyrenees.

Sarkozy v Hollande. Round two

Yesterday, I couldn’t escape the political debate. Everywhere I went I got caught up in the same conversation, in SuperU, the post office and at the school gate.

With only 1.5% between the two main parties there is very little between Sarkozy and Hollande, and with one in five people voting for the National Front, Le Pen’s score of 18%, nearly double of what her father achieved in the first round in 2007, the political debates are becoming very heated!!

The playground has also become a political arena, yesterday evening Iona asked, ‘What would the impact be on Europe if Hollande won?’

Joe (aged eight) replied,’ He won’t win, Hugo D and Pierre said that Sarkozy will win’.

On the 6th May we shall see if Hugo D and Pierre’s predictions are correct !!

Being watched by a man in yellow flourescent trousers....

  I have a few idiosyncrasies, well several. Looking for things to take to the dump is not normal!

I actively seek out old football goal posts, finished paint pots and assorted rubbish so that I can visit the dump. Yesterday, I discovered a new dump.

I love the considered and orderly approach to French dumps. In France, you drive your car up a small hill / bridge, and on either side, on the ground there are about eight containers. The tops of the containers are at road height, so there are no slippery steps to climb up with armfuls of old carpet and waste building materials. Here you can just reverse the car up to the correct container, plastic, metal, cardboard, glass, building waste etc etc and open the boot and throw the waste down into the correct container, under the watchful eye of a man in yellow fluorescent trousers!

These dumps are so organized and tidy. There is always a broom for you to clear up any waste that may have fallen on the road.

The new dump I discovered yesterday has a different way of dealing with garden waste. This is not placed in a container but in a sectioned off part of the dump in which there are 4 or 5 compartments. When the first one becomes full it is left to compost down and the second compartment is opened, and when that becomes full the third compartment is used etc etc. The compost is then sold. Ingenious.

You arrive with a trailer full of rubbish and leave with a trailer full of well-rotted steaming compost…

Some trailers take more than others!

La Maison Blanche

 

Located in a tiny hamlet, in the depths of rural France about ten minutes from the mediaeval town of Malestroit, La Maison Blanche enjoys solitude.

The hamlet is inhabited by three widows, they have an average age of 78. They enjoy routine, and they do the same thing every day, a little bit of cleaning in their respective houses in the morning, a hot midday lunch, a short sieste and a two hour walk starts at 2.30. Not much gets past these determined women. Should you be a bit unsure as to the exact location of La Maison Blanche they will wave you in with a cheery smile!.

If you are seeking peace, then La Maison Blanche is for you, here you will hear the birds and see the stars.

Malestroit, the nearest town is located next to a canal and with its tarmaced towpaths it is perfect for cycling or walking. A visit to the weekly market is a must, every Thursday the town square is crammed full of stalls selling fresh fish, vegetables, hot roasting chickens, live chickens and ripe cheeses!!.

Malestroit also hosts regular medieval weekends, where the centre of the town is completely closed to cars and knights on horseback take over the town and there are three days of jousting, medieval crafts and feasts to be enjoyed!.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvh_Ad5ndWg&list=UUzBcawEERnLRrFiGMF8FKMw&index=7&feature=plcp

La Maison Blanche is available to let all year round and we still have a few available weeks during the summer. To have a quick preview of La Maison Blanche, check out this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmFIo8peQO0&list=UUzBcawEERnLRrFiGMF8FKMw&index=10&feature=plcp

Keep warm in April.

The French have a wonderful saying for this very temperamental weather we are experiencing.

En Avril ne te découvre pas d’un fil.
En Mai fait se qu’il te plait.

In April, don’t take off a thread.
In May, do as you please.

Hollande v Sarkozy

Next Sunday the French public will take to the polls to decide whether to re-elect Nicholas Sarkozy.

At the moment the polls are pretty even, so there is no way of guessing who will win this this two-stage election. However, both Mr Sarkozy and his primary challenger Francois Hollande are recklessly adopting populist positions rather than tackling the more ‘unpopular’ issues.
With both polling around 30% in the first round, these two candidates are expected to progress to a head-to-head run-off on May 6.

The election itself is being played out as a populist war of words, with politicians choosing to ignore the real problems in France which would require tough and potentially unpopular political decisions on: a rebalancing of the economy, competitiveness of labour and social issues. The policies suggested are unlikely to even begin to solve these problems, and focus instead on crowd-pleasing stances on taxation and public spending, and hostility to globalisation, specifically within the context of the Eurozone.

Economically, France with the second-largest economy in the Eurozone, has a generous welfare and one of the highest levels of public spending in western Europe. France faces the harsh reality of having run a budget deficit every year since 1974. Earlier this year it lost its AAA credit rating. With public debt standing at almost 90% of GDP, France faces a crisis potentially similar to the other south European states unless it redresses its finances.

In a country where voters do not want to sacrifice social welfare to the altar of austerity, analysts warn none of the main candidates are going far enough to slash spending. The French social model, with its wide-ranging benefits, remains paramount.

We watch as the presidential candidates battle …

French hairdressers

 

Today a first…. We have lived in France for over ten years and I still haven’t stepped inside a French hairdressers.

I have always waited until we returned to England to get my hair cut and as we only go back twice a year, after six months my hair does look a little disheveled!!..

BUT, still, I am a coward… it is actually Iona who is having her hair cut.

We arrive and Iona is whisked away to a rear salon and I am asked to wait by the door. Forty minutes pass. How long does it take to cut a fringe and a couple of centimeters of the back of her hair?

Two girls, aged about 14 emerge from the rear salon, one has her hair streaked blue, the other pink.

As I look around, EVERYONE is having their hair dyed.

AAAHHH…. Will Iona emerge with purple hair?

Thankfully, no… 

 

Wood satisfaction.

Every year our neighbour takes two weeks off work to chop wood. Wood is his only source of heating.

Wood management is very important in Brittany, there is always a patch of woodland being completely cleared and then replanted. It is very common in France for parents with land to plant up to 1,000 saplings when a child is born and then to give the trees to the child when they reach 18.

Coppicing is also very popular, this is a traditional method of woodland management which takes advantage of the fact that many trees make new growth from the stump or roots if cut down. In a coppiced wood, young tree stems are repeatedly cut down to near ground level. In subsequent growth years, many new shoots will emerge, and, after a number of years the coppiced tree, or stool, is ready to be harvested, and the cycle begins again.

This year our neighbour managed to find a patch of woodland, mainly oak trees that were being cleared just outside of Reminiac. For a week he sawed and chopped the several huge trees into reasonable sized logs and stacked them in a neat pile. Last week he borrowed the tractor from the Mairie and transported the logs home where they have been stacked down the right hand side of his garden. He now has two enormous log piles.

As he was proudly looking at his wood piles, I asked him,

‘How long will the wood last?’

‘Six years’, he replied, ‘It is really good to know that for six years I will be warm and no one can take that away from me. I’m not reliant on anyone to provide me with heat for the next six years.’

I know he will chop wood next year. To have a six year wood supply is very important to him. This is not the first time I’ve heard this view. In Brittany, wood is still the main source of heating and to be self sufficient in wood is very important. There is good evidence of this as you drive through the villages, most houses have sizeable wood piles.

I wonder if in years to come when power cuts become less and the French become to trust the power companies whether this need to be self sufficient in wood will become less important or whether it is so engrained into their culture they will always have huge wood piles.

Chocolates from Rome

You would not not have heard any bells in France over the Easter weekend, not even the midday bells have been heard.

As I understand it..all the bells have gone to Rome and they return on Easter Sunday. As they fly over the gardens on their way back to their rightful bell towers they drop Easter eggs and chocolate rabbits and chickens in all the gardens across France, ringing as they leave.

This is the signal for all the children to dash outside and to search for the hidden chocolate goodies !!

Holiday in France = Pressure Cooker

 

I have just met with a woman at the tourist information office in Malestroit.

Before we can advertise our gites to the French we must confirm that there is a pressure cooker in each property!..

Whom, just whom would want to use a pressure cooker on holiday?

The Gardens of Brocéliande

  I really can’t believe that we are only just out of March, the weather is glorious… hope that we are in for a scorching summer!.

Yesterday have visited the Gardens of Brocéliande. These large gardens near Rennes, about 20minutes drive and contain specialised plant collections such as the French national iris collection. In addition, there’s a variety of landscapes to explore, all with their own specialised plants. The plants are well tended and are (thankfully!) labeled up so you know what you`re looking at. There are also a lot of gardeners at work who are more than happy to chat to you about the plants.

           

Our children love the barefoot walk, which, as it says is a walk for about 20 minutes without shoes on. The walk is designed to ‘wake up your sense of touch’ and you will walk over a 100 different surfaces. Really good fun. 

This year they have also added a ‘Blindfolded walk’ where you walk around a circuit wearing, surprisingly a blindfold! Excellent fun.

Poisson d'Avril. Watch your back!

 

It is believed that the observation of April Fool’s Day began in France, after Charles IX changed the calender in 1564, and New Years Day was changed to 1^st January.

People who still celebrated New Year’s Day on April 1^st became the ‘butt’ of many jokes. They were called ‘Poisson d’Avril’ (April Fish) because at that time of year the sun was in the zodiac sign of Pisces, the fish.

As in England, it has become customary to play tricks on family and friends. French children fool their friends by taping a paper fish to their friends back. When the ‘young fool’ discovers this trick, the prankster yells ‘Poisson d’Avril.

 

Priorité a droite? Apply or ignore?

 Embarrassed. A couple of days after my awful mistake I am still embarrassed.

Last Saturday, I was taking Iona and Joe to a judo competition in Malestroit. The road is quite a long straight fast road. There were cars behind me. I vaguely remember a black Mondeo stopping at a side road wanting to get on to the main road to Malestoit and wondered if it was Emrics' parents as Emric goes to judo as well.

We arrived and whilst Iona and Joe were getting changed, and through the sea of parents I saw Emrics' mother. She didn't look very happy. She approached me.

'Not very nice that, rude in fact, don't you know the FRENCH highway code?, Priorité a droite?

Oh help.

An unknown man behind me, replied to Emrics' mother, 'You must be the only person in Brittany who adheres to the priorité a droite '.

This did not help.

She stomped off.

Should we apply the priorité a droite rule or not?  The overriding rule of the road in France is priorité a droite which basically means that you must give way to traffic coming from your right. It is an archaic law that dates back to the times of the horse and cart and for some unknown reason has never been repealed. It is true to say however that the French have spent thousands of millions of Euros to indicate that it does not apply in most circumstances, but as with any French law there are exceptions !! :-

The Yellow diamond with a white border indicates that the priorité a droite does not apply to the road ahead.

When this exemption ceases then another sign with the yellow diamond with a diagonal black line through it will be displayed.

Dotted and sold white lines. Although technically not a priorité a droite sign, they do in fact indicate that nobody has the right to cross them, and whereas many people have thought that these were just to indicate the side of the road, which of course they do, they also mean that, you have prioity which if you think about it is logical.

The use of white posts with a red band. These is only used in rural situation and indicate firstly that there is a turning to your right and that that road does not have the priorité a droite.

I really don’t think that I am any the wiser, and I do hope that Emrics’ mother will forgive my poor driving!…

French. An impossible language.

I am truly on the verge of giving up, packing my bags, taking the first boat the Portsmouth so the I can speak a logical language!!….. How can I possibly master a language where these two sentences have the same meaning :-

Le gateau que Jean mange est au chocolat.                 The cake that Jean eats is chocolate

Le gateau que mange Jean est au chocolat.                 The cake that eats Jean is chocolate.

I guess I need to get my French Grammaire books out…. It is apparently all to do with Les relatifs…

I am becoming a cider drinker !..

I almost prefer cider to wine.

When we lived in England we never drank cider, the occasional glass of wine but never cider. The French, however drink a lot of cider. It is drank as an aperitif, sometimes mixed with cassis to produce a cider kir, it is often drunk at lunchtimes as it usually has a lower alcohol content than wine and of course it is always drunk with galettes!

I wonder…. Every autumn we press about a tonne of apples, could some of this juice be turned into cider?

I do some research… The apples, not all apples will do, you must try them out. They must be rich in pectin. Need to find out how to test an apple for pectin!

The apples must be ripe. They aren't necessarily ripe when they've fallen off the tree, they can ripen on the floor. To test for ripeness either use the starch test, or check for a strong apple aroma, or the apples should give when squeezed.

Pick and press within a week, throw out any rotten apples. So far so good!

Pressing, only press when the temperature is between 8 and 12ºC, or possibly a little colder. If any warmer, the yeast starts to ferment too quickly before the enzymes can do their business.

Maceration of the pulp for 12-24 hours before pressing will help to increase pectin levels.

Now things get complicated.. to do with pectin esterase enzyme and Calcium Chloride. It appears timings are crucial and there is more skill involved in making cider than I realized. A skill that only comes with experience.

We press our apples at a farm just north of Guer. I wonder whether the farmer would help us transform some of our juice into cider this year…

 

Frosty or Familiarity?, Vous or Tu?

The French either talk to each other formally or informally depending upon whom they are speaking to. There are, of course some rules, always use the ‘tu’ form (informal) when talking to children and members of your family and use the ‘vous’ form when speaking to people in authority (police, lawyers, teachers etc) and people that you don’t know but inevitably there are some grey areas !!...

Until a couple of years ago, just to be on the safe side and so as not to offend anyone, I used the ‘vous’ form with everyone.. that way I could not offend by being over familiar. But I did offend… one day, a woman whom I know quite well said, ‘Why don’t you use the ‘tu’ form… aren’t we friends yet?’

So what to do ?... The text books all say that when the time is right the French person will ask if you are happy to use the ‘tu’ form. Pah.. I never had that conversation; it would certainly make things a lot easier if that was the case.

The only way I have managed to navigate my way through this etiquette minefield is to try and avoid using either form until you figure out whether the person with whom you are talking to is addressing you as ‘tu’ or ‘vous’.

This works most of the time… but not all the time.

When talking to other parents at the school gate the ‘tu’ form is used after a relatively short period of time, but when talking to a teacher the “tu’ form is never used. I now have a problem. Iona’s teacher (of six years) is also the parent of two girls that attend the same school. He now teaches at a different school, so when I see him at school functions as a parent do I refer to him in the ‘tu’ or the ‘vous’ form?

Are wayside crosses disappearing all over France?

Reminiac has a large concrete wayside cross which is located just behind the Marie.

I arrived to pick up Iona and Joe this morning to find that the base had been partly dismantled.

I assumed that it was being removed as part of Frances’ acknowledgement that it is a secular state.

‘Non, non, non Nicole, the mayor wants a bigger office!’ I was told.

Lunchtime. Progress is slow….

This evening. At last.

 

Vide Grenier Preperations about to get a lot more complicated!

Yesterday evening, a meeting was called to allocate tasks to enable the smooth running of the Vide Grenier (car boot sale) to be held in Reminiac on 1^st May.

The presidente, outlined the action plan in the run up to the 1^st May and for the day of the Vide Grenier. It is terribly organized. Posters and leaflets are to be distributed in two tranches, yesterday we were all given posters aimed at those wanting to take a stand and nearer the time different posters will be issued advertising the Vide Grenier to the general public.

In order to make the Vide Grenier a greater attraction the presidente proposed that we have a plant sale, make and sell galettes sauccisse, have a bar selling coffee, alcoholic and soft drinks and a cake stand. Excellent idea !!

Principle agreed for the ‘additional attractions’, so a further meeting was arranged for next week to agree the detail. It is easy to agree principles… the prolems are always in the detail, I have a feeling next weeks’ meeting will be a long one !!

Buying a house in France?… Count the trees!

Caught a glimpse of Lucienne going into the bar for a coffee this morning.

Decided to join her.

‘Ecoute, she say’s, I’ve got a funny story for you. My nephew has just bought a house at Porcaro. A lovely house with a huge garden, a mature orchard and three enormous oak trees. He fell in love with the trees before the house!. He signed the Compromis de Vente last week. Saturday evening he was in the bar at Porcaro and a man approached him and said that he had some wood for sale. Bien sur, my nephew was interested as his new house (like most houses in Brittany) is heated by a wood burning stove. The man asked if he would like oak, the king of woods!. They agreed on a price and the man gave him directions to his new house!!… As soon as the Compromis de Vente had been signed the vendors were busy cutting down all the trees and making money from the wood!!’.

So if you are about to buy a house in France..beware !!

Could this be a good wind up for Mark, Pig Farm at the end of the road?… Ohhh yes, I think so !!…

Spring is on its’ way. Warm sunshine. Tess and I stroll up the road. Tess races off in search of non existent rabbits. I see a new post in the distance. As I walk towards it, I see there is a notice attached to it.

‘Enquette Publique.’ (Public Enquiry).
I read on and the words ‘création d’un atelier porcin, 380 truies(sows), 1176 animaux, does not fill me with confidence.
Will the field at the end of our road be the site of a new pig farm?

Guillaume will know. I walk a bit further and find him splitting huge logs with the help of a mechanical splitter which is attached to a very ancient tractor. Guillaume is very excited with the ‘splitter’ that he has borrowed for the day and gives me a full demonstration.

I ask about the notice.
‘Ne t’inquiéte pas, don’t worry, There is a farm over in Monteneuf, and he points way off and the farmer wants to increase the number of sows but the pig farming regulations are so tight now he has to prove that by increasing the number of animals on his farm will not have an impact on the environment in terns of slurry run off, increased vehicles to and from the farm, etc etc….’ Jean rambles on. ‘The Public Enquiry is part of the new EU rules, don’t worry it won’t affect us.’ He says’ kindly looking at my relieved face.

Mardi Gras, without the Fat Cow.

Yesterday was Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday), the day before the beginning of Lent. Mardi Gras also marks the end of the Carnival period.

At the origin of the Carnival there were (of course !!) many old (and odd !!) habits from France. For example, the French took a fat cow around the roads of Paris to tell people not to eat meat during Lent.

 The word “carnival” means in Latin “to take away eating meat”.

Yesterday we celebrated Mardi Gras, and it didn’t have anything to do with a fat cow !!.

The young and the elderly of Reminiac came together. I arrived at the village hall with several other women, all heavily laden with crepes and cakes at about 3.00pm to prepare the hot chocolate for the children and to sugar the crepes.
But, we were beaten to it !!.. Five or six women in their seventies were bustling around the kitchen warming two huge pans of milk and worrying about the hot chocolate powder, was is the right sort ? and should they add some more sugar ?.

In the hall there were four or five bereted men, uncorking ten bottles of wine !.

At 3.30 the children arrived and they all went to have a chat to the elderly men and women, who, of course, complimented them on their costumes !!..

Yesterday afternoon the young and the elderly have come together in a very natural way. The interaction between the generations was just so easy and I really do hope that there will be many more events such like this.

Am reminded of Chicken Run.

Yesterday eight new hens were bought from La Gacilly market.

Wings cut and they were introduced to their new home. One hen is limping, I hope she recovers.

Two hours later, they were all in the field next door!

A new fence was required along one side of their run. I was dispatched to buy thirty fence posts and 50m of fencing.

I bet the hens are now planning their next escape…

The latest etiquette error.

Waiting to pick Iona and Joe up from school. I noticed that another mum had had her hair cut, coloured and highlighted. ‘Your hair looks great.’ I said.

‘Thanks’, she replied.

Another mother agreed, ‘It suits you, how much did it cost?’

‘€50.’

There were then mutters which seemed to acknowledge that this was a fair price.

I am no longer surprised by the forthrightness of the French when it comes to money. The British just don’t discuss money whereas the French are quite happy to discuss their own financial status and are very keen to know everyone else’s !!

I have been asked how much we bought our house for, my salary when I was working in London and what we earn now. There are no secrets !!..

I am also getting used to this line of questioning, it isn’t really nosiness just a line of conversation. However, it has caused me to make a pretty bit English etiquette error….

Whilst in the UK recently, I met up with my brother and his wife. My sister-in-law was telling me about her new job. Without thinking, I said, ‘How much do you earn now?’

A stunned silence followed….

Looking to experience the REAL France. Look no further.

We bought this stone Breton cottage five years ago. It belonged to an elderly Parisian lady who could no longer spend July and August alone in Southern Brittany.

It was a house that was used just two months a year. The rest of the year it was left, shuttered up, unloved. As it was only used in the hot summer months it didn’t matter that there wasn’t any heating or that the windows were rotten and daylight could be seen between the wall and the window frame.

The house had a strange configuration; there was a room above the kitchen which could only be accessed by leaping off the fifth from the top step of the stairs into a small opening which led to a small room with a head height of four feet. A loft, presumably.

On the plus side, the house is located on the edge of a small village with a bar, shop, post office and a restaurant, rooms are large and it has a decent sized garden. 

So, for the next year Mark set to work, taking down the floor in the strangle little loft to produce a light and airy double height kitchen, restoring the parquet flooring in the bedrooms, installing a new bathroom and kitchen. New windows and central heating were installed throughout. It was whilst Mark was carrying on this building project he discovered the restaurant…..

My father was visiting from England for a few days and they were adjusting the stairs. At mid day lots of vans started arriving at the end of the road, water board vans, builders vans, and electricians vans. There were about 30 of them.

‘Why have all those vans stopped?’ asked my father.

‘No idea,’ replied Mark, ‘They arrive at mid day but by 2.30 they have all gone and there are always different vans.’

Curious, they walked to the end of the road. A van stopped. Two workmen got our and went into the bar. Mark and my fathered followed. The men walked through the bar and through a small door that looked as if it went to the bar owners’ private living area.

Mark, now very curious, asked the woman behind the bar, ‘Where does that door lead to?’

‘The restaurant.’ She replied.

Mark and my father followed the two men into the restaurant.

They passed through a small dark narrow corridor and into a large room with a worn lino floor. There were four long lines of tables and chairs. They sat opposite each other at the end of one of these tables. No, No… they were told to join the other men and soon they were in the middle of the table joined on all sides by plumbers, electricians, builders and mechanics.

Three bottles were placed between then, water, red wine and cider. Then came a basket of bread. A couple of minutes later two plates of langoustines (huge prawns). These were devoured with the cider. Then a huge piece of salmon with rice. After this was eaten the main course arrived, braised venison with vegetables, this was followed by cheese and then tarte aux pommes and finally coffee.

Mark and my father were totally bemused by the whole experience. There wasn’t a menu, food just kept appearing. At 2.00pm they could eat nor drink no more.  They noticed that no one paid in the restaurant. A couple of men got up to leave, they followed. The men paid in the bar and left to do their afternoons’ work. Mark went up to the bar, 20 euros please, the woman said.

Mark gave her 40 euros assuming the meal, wine and cider was 20 euros each.

‘Non, non,non, she said smiling, ‘It is 10 euros for each meal.’

What an experience. The restaurant has not been decorated in 30 years, the chairs are all odd and are at least 40 years old, the plastic table cloths, the designs on the plates are hardly visible due to years of dishwasher abuse but the place is clean and the food was amazing… and all for 10 euros each.

Mark and my father returned the next day. The experience was just as good but the food wasn’t quite so easy on the English palette, spam and diced beetroot followed by tête de veau! Every time my father visits France, they always go for a meal in the restaurant. I think not knowing what you will be served is part of the experience… but it is not always for the faint hearted!

If the REAL French experience is for you visit La Maison Bleue in this traditional French village in the heart of rural Brittany.

Immense and indestructible v polished and clever.

Today we were back at Saint Nazaire!. I hadn’t anticipated returning this quickly but we enjoyed the energy of the place so much we had to discover more. We are drawn to the docks once more. We head for the submarine pens and find a route up to the roof. The roof structure is incredible. With very little bomb damage it is all intact. The views across the docks amazing.

We drag ourselves away and head for the town centre. As Saint Nazaire was bombed to the ground in the second world war so all the buildings are new and everywhere reconstruction continues. The energy is infectious. The contemporary art gallery is showing an exhibition by Toby Paterson, Quotidian Aspect. We take a look and are not surprised that all the paintings and sculptures concentrate on architecture.

We return to the roof of the submarine pens with a picnic and once again enjoy the views and marvel at the massive feat of engineering that could not be destroyed when everything around it crumbled.

I think you may have guessed… we like Saint Nazaire !!

For some time (years!!) we have been talking about visiting Les Machines de l’île in Nantes. Nantes is just under an hour away so we head for Nantes.

We arrive at 2.00pm. The queue is circling round the building. Encouraged that so many people want to visit Les Machines de l’île, we join the queue. An hour passes and we reach the ticket office.

The Machines de l’Ile is an artistic project of artists of François Delarozière and Pierre Orefice. It is a blend of the invented worlds of Jules Verne, the mechanical universe of Leonardo da Vinci, and the industrial history of Nantes.

A heron with a 8-metre wingspan, carrying four passengers, flies over the great model of the Heron tree, planted in the middle of the gallery. Plants are in close contact with mechanical plants and animals of the canopy. You can be invited to take control of the inchworm or to fly over the model of the Heron Tree under the wings of the Heron.

You can also ride on the 12-metre high by 8-metre wide elephant. This mechanical elephant takes its passengers on an amazing journey on the Ile de Nantes.

The machines are very clever, the elephant very impressive, but it is all too polished, too clever. We prefer the  Univers du poète ferrailleur in Lizio.

Today we have seen two very different types of architecture/engineering. The immense indestructible submarine pens and then the clever moving machines at Nantes, with tiny intricate details executed to perfection.

I will return to Saint Nazaire.

 Today we visited Saint Nazaire. A working coastal town, maybe a city, it is certainly big enough. I like it. Everything is big. Huge industrial plant line the docks, massive cranes are working everywhere, diggers, building sites, regeneration on an enormous scale.

During the Second World War, the Germans built a huge dry dock which held, restocked and repaired their submarines. With fifteen submarine pens it was a massive engineering project which took 140,000 cubic metres of concrete. The British were very keen to destroy these pens but the German submarines were protected by a 3.5 meter thick concrete roof which protected them from British bombs. Reinforcement of the roof would continue throughout the war, always counteracting the technical progress that the Allies make regarding bombardment.

Unable to penetrate the concrete roof of the submarine pens the Allies turn to Saint Nazaire’s town centre. On the night of February 15th/16th 1942, Saint-Nazaire’s town center is bombarded for the first time. During the following year life for its inhabitants quickly becomes unbearable and by 1^st March all that is left of the town is a immense field of rubble, completely deserted, in the middle of which stands the massive silhouette of the submarine base, intact.

We head for the docks. The submarine pens are still there. Immense. We are blown away by the size and the sheer mass of reinforced concrete. We freely wonder through these submarine pens.

We then stumble across Escal’Atlantic. There is a ticket office and nothing else. What is it? No idea. We buy tickets and climb a gangplank. We are suddenly in the Normandie. We are in a true reconstruction of the Normandie Cruise Liner, built in 1935. For the next two hours we traveled through time and discovered what life was like on board the Normandie in 1935.

We will return to Saint Nazaire.

Quick trip to le Grand Blockhaus.

It is still half term in France, so 8.30 this morning we leave for Batz-Sur-Mer. Just over an hours’ drive and we arrive in this small coastal village. Coffee and pain au chocolat. We are revived.

Then on to the Grand Blockhaus, a German bunker. Built out of concrete into the granite coastline the architecture is very dramatic. It is the only one of its type in France. The building, which is 25 meters long with a maximum height of 17 meters and has surface area is 285 square meters. Being practically the only building on the plain, the bunker is disguised to look like a hotel. A false roof and a brick wall are built to hide the angular aspect of the façade. False windows are deceptively painted along the façade as well as false bricks and gables, in the style of a Normandy villa.

The bunker was manned by 21 men, including one officer.

Once inside the bunker, we see exactly how these 21 men would have lived. Space was at a premium, everything was extremely organized and living conditions would have been cramped, cold and damp.
We explored Le Grand Blockhaus for two hours and would recommend this trip to anyone staying in Southern Brittany.

We couldn’t leave without a walk along the Magnifique Côte Sauvage. This coastline is amazing, so much so that we ate our picnic on the granite rocks.

Loose weight the French way. Eat more Brie

Despite a diet stuffed with cream, butter, cheese and meat, just 9 per cent of French adults are obese, compared with our 23 per cent, and America’s colossal 31 per cent. The French live longer too, and have lower death rates from coronary heart disease – in spite of those artery-clogging feasts of cholesterol and saturated fat. This curious observation, dubbed ‘the French paradox’, has baffled scientists for more than a decade. And it leaves us diet-obsessed Brits smarting.

So how do they do it ?

Forget diets, they are no fun and don’t work. I have never know a French woman on a diet.

Eat sitting down. In France, 76 per cent eat meals they have prepared at home; the favourite place to eat both lunch and dinner is in the home, with 75 per cent eating at the family table. In the UK, by contrast, we like to eat our meals (a) standing up, (b) in front of the television, (c) at a desk while catching up on emails or (d) by the side of the M25.

Take your time. Whereas the French typically spend two hours over lunch, we bolt down our food in the time it would take them to butter a petit pain.

French food is real food – prepared in the kitchen, with time taken to choose, buy and prepare meals. In England, we eat more pre-prepared foods and ready-meals; we eat fast food both in and outside the home.

Food experience. Compare our ‘food experience’ to that of the French: the time that the average British family takes to prepare a meal has shrunk from two hours to 15 minutes in the past few years.

Seasonal food. The French will only eat seasonal food. There was once an outcry at the school when the school lunch had a tomato starter in January.

Lay off the processed foods. The UK has aisles and aisles of processed ready meals. These just don’t exist in France.

Smaller portion sizes. French people, exercise strict portion control. A croissant in Paris is one ounce, while America it’s two.

Quality not quantity. After every meal a French woman will restrict herself to one square of very good chocolate with an impossibly high cocoa percentage. Sugar laden chocolate bars don’t exist in France.

Stop snacking! The UK snack industry is worth £9 billion a year, with speedy growth in such crazy sectors as ‘hand-held snacks’, ’snacks on the go’ and ’snack kits’ to service our new grazing, table-less culture. This snacking culture just does not exist in France. One reason for this is that their fat-rich diet stimulates the production of cholecystokinin, a satiety signal which promotes an extended sense of satisfaction after eating even small amounts of high-fat foods. Brie-eaters stay fuller longer.

Good knickers. If all else fails by some good supportive knickers. In Paris there are almost as many lingerie shops as boulangeries!

French Kissing

Kissing in France is terribly complicated. Do you kiss on one cheek, both cheeks, three times or four times?

Technically, I suppose, it is not actually a kiss, cheeks are touched and a kissing sound is made. In some parts of France I believe one or even three kisses are exchanged, but in Brittany it is either two or four. Phew, the possibilities are halved!

There are some ‘rules’, but I find these change from one day to the next. It is a little easier for men as they only have to worry about the women, men with men always shake hands. The general rule is, if you don’t know someone very well or if they hold a responsible or respectable job, like the mayor, a lawyer or a doctor then you always shake hands. NEVER try and kiss your childs’ teacher. Huge mistake!!  If you know someone quite well you kiss them on both cheeks. Very good friends and family kiss four times.

I am finding that some French women are getting a bit bored with all this kissing. If you are the last woman to arrive at a meeting or social event it can take you fifteen minutes to kiss everyone!. Women are now more likely to say, ‘Bonjour tout le monde.’

There are some embarrassing situations which will happen…..
If you wear glasses beware, especially if the person you are kissing also wears glasses. It can get a bit clanky !!
Yesterday, when you met you kissed, today you launch towards her left cheek only to be presented with a handshake. You are now off balance and fall into her arms.

I have two pieces of advice. The first is to arrive at any meeting or social gathering early. It is then up to the people arriving after you to approach you with either a handshake or a kiss.

The second is to forget how you were greeted yesterday or last week, it will be different this time.

Far Breton. The taste of Brittany.

Now, I admit that this cake does not look the most appetizing, but it is one of my favourite Breton pudding

Far Breton is a traditional cake or dessert from the Brittany region in France. Its base is similar in composition to a clafoutis batter: a flan-style eggs-and-milk custard with flour added. Prunes or raisins are often placed in the dish and then the custard mixture is poured over the top.

Nothing beats a fresh slightly warm Far Breton, they are best eaten the same day as the texture can become a bit rubbery the next day.

When visiting Brittany, if you come across a Far Breton in your local boulangerie, give it a try….