Laurim divi gadi - Lauris is two!

For English, please see below

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Lieli notikumi šeit Francijā! Jauns prezidents ievēlēts; 51,63% nobalsoja par socialistu François Hollande, un 48,37% par Nicolas Sarkozy. Tad vēl, maija brīvdienas nozīmē kad liela daļa no Francijas atvaļinājumā (vismaz tā liekas); 1. maijs, Fête du Travail vai Labor day, 8. maijs bija Victoire 1945 atzīmēt otrā pasaules kaŗa beigas Eiropā, 17. maijā būs Ascension (par kuŗu rakstiju arī pagāšgad), un beidzot 28. Lundi de Pentecôte, pirmdiena pēc Pentecost. Frančiem arī patīk faire le pont, būvēt tiltus (ar brīvdienām), un tā arī 30. aprilī, 7. un 18. maijā ņem brīvdienas. Bet vislielākais notikums, Laurim šodien divi gadi. Manam mīļam Laurim novēlu daudz laimes dzimšanas dienā!!! Nevaru ticēt, ka divi gadi jau pagājuši (liekās kā divpadsmit!).

Nesen man jautāja, vai dzīve Francijā patiešām tik varena un rožaina cik tā izklausās lasot manu blogu. Bija jāpadomā, jo pagatnē esmu sūdzējusies par to, ka cilvēki rāda fasādi savos blogos un nestāsta par „īsto dzīvi”. Vai es neesmu arī vainīga, apslēpjot tās nepatīkamās lietas kuŗas mums kādreiz notiek? Tomēr rakstu šo dienas grāmatu lai nākotnē varētu atcerēties visus piedzīvojumus, visas vietas kuŗas apciemojām, visus cilvēkus kuŗus satikām. Varu droši teikt, ka negribēšu lasīt par tantrumiem kuŗi Laurim bija, par tām reizēm kad Mikus visu nakti raudāja, par tām dienām kad desmit reizes pārģērbos jo viens vai otrs bērns mani apšpļakstija ar sulu, uz manīm atspļāvās, uzvēma, utt, jo tos brīžus tagad jau labprāt aizmirstu. Es (un cerams Lauris un Mikus) vēlēšos lasīt par mūsu ceļojumu uz Amsterdamu un Briseli (par kuŗu rakstīšu nākam nedēļ), par draugiem kuŗi mums rīt brauc ciemos, par vecmātes ciemošanos nākamās nedēļas, un par Lauŗa 2. dzimšanas dienas viesībām.

Un tā arī ielūdzu jūs atpakaļ nākamās nedēļās dzirdēt kā izdevās viesības ar 12 maziem bērniem un vilciena kūku. Palasīt par mūsu ceļojumu redzēt Hollandes tulpes un Manneken Pis, kā arī izbraukāt Petit Suisse Luxembourgeoise. Un uz brīdi aizmirst tās ikdienas ķibeles un raizes kas mūs tik bieži nomāc, jo tomēr pasaulē tik daudz vietas kuŗas redzēt, draugi vēl nesatikti un gudrības ko iegūt.

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Big month here in France! A new president was elected in the runoff elections Sunday; the socialist candidate François Hollande received 51.63% of the vote while incumbent Nicolas Sarkozy received only 48.37%. May also means the country is on holiday half the month; May 1^st was Fête du Travail (or Labor day), May 8^th was Victoire 1945 to commemorate the end of WWII in Europe, May 17^th is Ascension, and finally the 28^th is Lundi de Pentecôte, or the Monday after Pentecost. Of course since the French like to faire le pont, (meaning to build bridges, a phrase commonly used to describe the practice of taking the Monday/Friday off to extend a holiday that falls on a Tuesday or Thursday into a 4-day weekend), April 30^th and May 7^th & 18^th were also “holidays”. However the biggest event for us is Lauris’s second birthday, today! I can not believe two years have already passed (feels like twenty…).

Not long ago someone asked me how life in France really is – it can’t be only the exciting travel and wonderful experiences I write about. This got me thinking, as I’ve often complained that people will present a totally false façade, pretending the gritty/boring/painful never happens to them. For example, some new moms only talk about the wonders that parenthood brings, how they’ve never been happier and brag how the little screaming bundle of joy in their arms is already sleeping through the night. Am I guilty of this as well? I rarely discuss the difficulties and trials we face here in France, not just with parenting, but with life so far away from family and the familiar, dealing with the minutiae of life in a foreign language. I’ve decided that I am not, as this diary of our travels and adventures is meant to serve as a reminder of all the wonderful things and people we saw, experienced and met. I’m sure that I will not want to read about the tantrums, the sleepless nights and the days I change outfits ten times, although I don’t pretend these things never happen to me (see posts here and here). It is comforting to hear that I’m not the only one going through the trials of parenting or of being an expat, but in twenty years hopefully my children and I will want to instead read about our trip to Amsterdam and Brussels (which you may hear about next week), about the friends coming to visit tomorrow, about the weeks the boys’ grandmother will be joining us, and about the birthday party for our brand new toddler.

So I invite you to stop by these next few weeks to hear about how the party with 12 children and a train cake turned out. To read about our trip to see  the tulips and Manneken Pis, and our drive through Petit Suisse Luxembourgeoise. To forget about the rough days we all have and the hardships we must often face, because the world is full of places to explore and friends we haven’t met yet.

"Mom, stop! You're getting way too corny!"

Happy birthday Laurīt, daudz laimes dzimšanas dienā.

Eton Mess

About a week ago I saw this post at Oh, the places we will go. I took it as a sign, because for weeks I had been drooling over the Nutella meringue pictures on pinterest from cream puffs in venice. 

The dessert is called Eton Mess, and it is a traditional British dessert that consists of meringue pieces, strawberries and cream. Traditionally served at Eton College's annual cricket game against the students of Winchester College, it is thought to originally have been made with either strawberries or bananas mixed with ice-cream or cream, and the meringue was only added later.

The line for Eton Mess

Since making a bizet torte with my mother when she was visiting a couple of months ago, I haven’t been as scared of meringue. And with that last bit of Nutella sitting in the cupboard and a dinner party lacking a dessert idea, I thought why not, and whipped up a batch.

The meringues where delicious, and although the Nutella taste was more subtle than I would have liked, the espresso powder added another dimension. From there it was simple; chop up the meringues, add some strawberries and douse with cream before serving! And since one of the most common things to go wrong with meringue is for it to collapse or crack, chopping it up in a big “Mess” is a great solution. Plus, the meringue can be made ahead of time freeing you up to do other things the day of your party. The strawberries can also be sliced earlier in the day, mixing them with a little sugar and leaving in the refrigerator until serving for a syrupy consistency.

At the gates, with the hope of getting a copy of the recipe

The Eton Mess was a hit (with my French dinner guests, ooh, la la!) and I’ve put it on the short list of easy desserts. Here are the ingredients for the meringue from the link I mentioned above:

3 large egg whites, at room temperature

a pinch of cream of tartar

a pinch of salt

½ cup + 1 tablespoon, granulated sugar

¼ cup Nutella, warmed and then cooled so that it swirls in easier

and my addition to the recipe, ½ teaspoon espresso powder dissolved in warm water and then mixed with the Nutella

Preheat the oven to 300 º F, and line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

Beat the egg whites on medium-high until they are foamy.

Add the cream of tartar and the salt and continue whipping at medium-high until soft peaks form.

Increase the speed to high and add the sugar a few spoonfuls at a time. At this point the meringue should be thick with firm peaks.

Add the Nutella and gently fold into the meringue for a swirled effect.

Drop the meringue onto the parchment-lined baking sheets in large dollops.

Place one pan in the upper third of the oven and the other in the bottom third, then bake for 10 minutes.

Lower the heat to 200º F and rotate trays.

After an hour, check the meringues. If they are done (bottom sounds hollow when tapped) turn the oven off and leave for a few hours to cool with the oven.

The Languedoc-Roussillon

To the southwest of the rounded hills of the Auvergne where we live and to the west of the famous Provence is the Languedoc-Roussillon. The region has a wide range of topography, from the plateaux of the Margeride, checkered with pastureland and forests, to the sheer limestone cliffs and deep river gorges of the Causses. To the east of the Lot river and the gorges are the rugged Cévenne mountains with their complex network of ridges and gullies. The Cévennes were impenetrable for centuries partially due to the impressive fortifications along the ridges.

On our recent trip south we witnessed the changes in topography farther to the west, where soft hills and fertile valleys sport the ségalas, the rye fields (although we saw more rapeseed fields, noticeable because of the striking yellow blossoms). Between the Causses and the Cévennes are the limestone hills of the Garrigues and the wine-growing plains of the Bas Languedoc.

Once we entered the Garrigues, the scenery dramatically changed; the white rocks, olive trees, vines and clumps of oaks, broom and aromatic wild thyme and rosemary resembled a truly Mediterranean landscape. Between the Garrigues and the coast vineyards seem to stretch as far as the eye can see. Summer brings the tourist crowds, and fall brings the bustle of the grape harvest. And since the Languedoc c'est le pays du vent (is the land of the wind), in addition to the five winds, Le Vent Tramontane, Le Vent Cers (and the prenom, is it Edgars?), Le Vent Scirocco, Le Vent Autan and Le Vent Marin, there are windfarms everywhere.

And finally at the southern edge the Pyrenees make a natural border between Spain and France. The slopes on the French side are incredibly steep, and are scored by valleys and high ridges. These link the Pyrenees to the inland plains and the coastal lagoons.

Sète

We had spent the morning and afternoon in Barcelona, at Park Güell, so our arrival in the French coastal town of Sète took place after sunset. We arrived from the northeast (a quicker route than the smaller roads connecting from the southwest), passing through industrial areas, shipping and train yards. In the darkness we saw groups of younger men hanging out under the streetlights, and I wondered out loud if I had made a mistake in scheduling our homeward bound trip through Sète. We checked into our hotel which was completely normal, but upon exiting for dinner the eerie feeling returned as the streets were deserted, the storefronts dark and our stomachs empty.

Both restaurants I had taken note of in the Michelin Guide had since publication closed their doors, so we quickly abandoned the vacant Grande Rue Mario Rouston for the supposedly more touristy Quai Général Durand and picked one of the almost empty seafood restaurants facing the water. The food was good, the return to the hotel furtive, and the thought that we might shorten our stay front most in our minds.

The view from Mont St-Clair to the north over the Thau lagoon

Sète is at the foot and climbing the slopes of  Mont St-Clair, a 541 foot limestone outcrop on the edge of the Thau lagoon. It was once an island, and today is linked to the mainland by two narrow sand spits, the one to the east we had come in on and the other to the southwest that stretches along the Plage de la Corniche, a 7.5 mile long sandy beach and conservation area. There are several canals cutting through the town and the old harbor, Vieux port, which is still used as a port for fishing boats and yachts. The town had caught our attention due to the famous joustes nautiques that take place on the day of St. Louis in August. I found it hard to believe that it was a Thursday during the holidays and the town was deserted.

The next morning we woke, enjoyed the breakfast buffet at the hotel and ventured out to see if first impressions would be corrected. Daylight made an enormous difference. The streets were filled with people - tourists shopping and strolling, fisherman having returned from the sea, locals with a coffee and paper. It was a different town than we had entered the previous night.

A fantastic octopus and fountain in a square on our hike

We set out for a hike up to Mont St-Clair, which is named after a saint who was venerated there sometime in the middle Ages. Once covered by pine forests and oaks, the hill is now swathed with summer houses and high, solid fences. I wouldn’t recommend this steep climb to others; take your car instead. Lacking pedestrian paths and utilizing roads with cars whizzing by around sharp curves, the way up has some nice views but isn’t worth the risk. However the view from the top made the whole stop in Sète worth it! From the esplanade with the large cross that is lit up every night there was a superb view of the town, the Thau lagoon and the coast. (The Bassin de Thau covers 19,768 acres and is the largest lagoon on the Languedoc coast. It is separated from the sea by the isthmus of Onglous, the beach to the south. The east shore is a busy industrial complex and the north shore villages specialize in oyster and mussel farming.) We could see the Pyrenees to the southwest and the Alpilles to the east!

On our hike down I was ready to jump a fence to get to this pool

On our descent we stopped at the museum dedicated to Paul Valéry, poet and singer-songwriter born in Sète. While Roberts explored the museum I took advantage of an extremely rare occurrence – both boys were asleep! I parked Lauris in the shade, transferred Mikus from the bjorn to a lounge chair, ordered a café and relaxed with a view of the sea, the town and the cemetery.

The final resting place of Valéry and Jean Vilar, the cliff top cemetery stretches across the side of the hill facing the sparkling Mediterranean with a sea of crosses. We stopped there too before continuing back down to the quay.

Lauris spotted a little tourist train making its way through town, and so we found the tourist office to find out where to hop aboard. The tourist center was helpful with brochures and information, as well as bins of toys Lauris could play with while we organized ourselves. Then, with tickets in hand, we set out on a little train ride around town, informing us of the history and landmarks of Sète.

The town developed in the 17^th century, although the harbor, rail lines and maritime canal were developed in the 19^th. Today the port ships bulk goods, passengers and containers to North and West Africa, South America, the French Caribbean and Australia. We were already familiar with Quai Général Durand, and after the little train ride we saw Quai de la Marine (but we missed the 3:30pm electronic auction or criée électronique!).

And finally, a stop at the park so that Lauris could expend some of that energy before dinner. As the sun was sinking in the sky, we noticed that the crowds of people were disappearing. Although nowhere as empty as the previous night, on Friday night the phenomenon was repeated; we once again felt very isolated after dark. There is a marked difference between daylight Sète and nighttime Sète.

The following morning we had only two destinations in mind. The first, Parc panoramique des Pierres Blanches, which is located at the top of Mont St-Clair (although this time we took the car). From a viewing table there is a wide view over the west end of the Thau lagoon, the lower Hérault plains, the sea and the beach, our second destination.

Free parking and an empty beach, what more can I ask for? While Lauris and Roberts chased the waves, my hunt for sea glass was on with Mikus dozing in the shade of our umbrella. It was with sand in our hair and salt on our feet that we packed up the car for the last time to head home.

"I walk the line"

The people of Barcelona

Playing boule in the park next to Sagrada Familia

From all the cities in Europe I have visited, Barcelona is my favorite.

Texting "Honey, will you come pick me up? I found the pair of shoes I was looking for"

There are quite a few famous reasons, like Gaudí, but I base my choice on other grounds as well: the tapas, the historic Catedral, the flamboyant Ramblas, the green spaces, la Boquería, the magnificent architecture, the ocean… the people!

"You missed one"

I am already formulating my list for returning. I wish to stop on Costa Brava on my return trip to Barcelona, witness a sardana dance, eat more tapas, enjoy the nightlife, visit Museu Picasso, see the “Magic” fountains, hit the beach…

Just another day, clocking off the construction site... at Sagrada Familia

There are the places in this world that have a magnetism that draw me back again and again. To that list I add Barcelona.

Santa Maria del Mar square