My Summer overview and how I enjoyed clubbing.

I do apologise if anyone injured themselves on collapsing at the sight of my unusually worded title but it is indeed true. I actually had a good time in the night club last night...

Yesterday evening saw the mass unemployment of the Moténo team - evidently this calls for a celebration. What could be better than being young, educated and unemployed for the cold winter months in the touristic region of Morbihan? It's time to party!

It all started at the campsite bar where we took great delight in chasing away potential paying customers as this was a 'private do'. I must say the French know how to have a drink before dinner as the beer, kir and punch did not stop running for about 4 hours before we finally shuffled over to the dinner table. Here a magnificent feast of langustine, beef, smoked salmon and caviar was layed out before our eyes. Copious amounts of wine were served with it (obviously).

At about 1am I started to panic ring Mark as I knew clubbing was more than likely to be on the cards and I was kinda hoping he may finish work in time to save me. No such luck, I was whisked away in my boss' car with one of the (now ex) chefs. We stopped off at her house so she could 'changer ses pieds' and then pulled up outside 'Le Bash'.

Turns out the club is extremely well thought out with a lovely (quiet) terrassed area for those who aren't up to sweating it out on the dance floor to DJ too much bass. As you can imagine I spent most of my evening here, sipping champagne as it goes, even managed to get away without spending a penny, marvelous! All in all it was my kind of evening and I'm very upset that my time at Moténo has come to an end, they'd better watch out as I'd love to be back again next year.

I'm off to detox...

Update (unforced)

Well I must admit I haven’t blogged in quite a while, mainly due to lack of bloggable material. There have been no fishing trips or stubborn bug incidents to report of late. However, due to a(n) (un)forced hand, here I am at nigh on midnight (sore back and aching shoulders) squeezing whatever I can out of my recently uneventful life to please a certain, rather demanding audience consisting of one person.

So what has happened in the exciting life of Lucy (avec un egrec) over the past few weeks…

Well I found out about a long lost cousin I never knew I had who lives in the next village (she’s French). We’re getting on really well except that last Saturday she unfortunately slipped and fell into the river Blavet, a passing alligator nipped her right leg quite severely. After being airlifted to the nearest hospital that deals with this kind of incident (La Rochelle) she was treated by none other than Doctor House and happily fell in love with the camera man. The wedding is on Saturday in Nepal. Rather annoyingly I can’t go as it is the end of season party at the campsite and I wouldn’t miss that for the world…

Like I said, nothing exciting has happened. Will update after the party as I’m sure there will be lots more to say.

So this is me signing out (yes already). I’m off to bed so I can have some strength for tomorrow when the daily ‘take the piss out of Lucy’s funny accent’ game begins. *sigh*

2 raquettes et une balle

"Deux raquettes et une balle svp" - this was the first order I received from behind my newly acquired bar on the very popular campsite Camping Le Moténo (well, it's not strictly my bar but it may aswell be). Previous to this request I had been cramming all possible French drink names into my head so that I felt completely prepared to act upon my first order. Here goes - red wine, red wine... red wine and... 2 raquettes et une balle?? 'It must be some sort of weird cocktail' I told myself. "Pardon?" perhaps I had misunderstood his rough Breton accent and he had actually asked for 'un verre de vin rouge' No such luck "Deux raquettes et une balle" he repeated, but this time I noticed a slight movement in his right eye as he looked over at what he wanted... of course! So I handed over two ping pong rackets and one ping pong ball. Sorted, this is going to be easy.

Or so I thought... turns out I am to run the bar and restaurant and ice-cream sales completely on my own from 10 in the morning til 5 in the afternoon. Although, to be fair the boss does arrive at midday to generally chat with clients and get in my way, then she leaves again at 2pm as soon as she sees the washing up start to pile up. Egalité I think not !

Bizarrely enough as the season has progressed the clientel I receive in the restaurant has diminished - obviously word has got around about how rubbish the food we serve is (it is cheap though). However, how the 'grapevine' works on a camp site where customers are only there for 2 weeks maximum works, I am unsure. Perhaps customers leave a friendly note in the mobilehome for the next people, warning them not to be tempted in by the over smiling english girl with the plate of 'moules marinières.' I don't know.

Despite... or rather thanks to the poor quality of food I have less work to do. I am now able to spend a great deal of my time dealving to the depths of deep freezers in search of ice lollys in the shape of footballs and pouring halves (very badly). At least everyone is on holiday, this counts for a lot as everyone is ready for a good laugh which definitely helps when you have trouble understanding that when someone orders 'un wazis trop et deux despés' what they actually mean is a can of oasis -tropical and two desperados please.

Unfortunately I have started to pick up on this speech impediment and it is becoming more and more noticeable in everyday life. I believe the proper medical term for it is 'French'. Happily I'm already signed up for one months rehab after the season.

Vive La France!

Lucy

A La Peche

Mark and I have recently taken up a new extreme sport - fishing. They do not come more extreme than fishing - the early mornings, the crisp air, the shoulder strain as you cast your line. Then there's actually catching a fish which has the possibility of being very... very dangerous. In fact I'm grateful we didn't get onto this frightening stage during the first two attempts as I honestly don't feel we'd have been ready for it.

Hours of training later 2 mullet were bagged - Martin and Molly. The joys of living with a chef, they were perfection! (Morgan got away)

The weather has been absolutely gorgeous but just recently it has turned to rain and howling winds. I now look like one of those people who go lying on sun beds for a tan, perhaps I should wear a sign 'je me suis bronzée naturellement en Bretagne.' A little difficult to believe perhaps.

Mark has gone for physiotherapy on his finger this morning. I can't wait to hear what they made him do, beckon people over from the other side of the room perhaps?! Apparently the doctor said he'd be amazed at what they can do... bizarre. For his ankle they made him balance on one foot so perhaps he'll come hopping through the door on one finger, you never know!

I have to hand back my signed contract for my summer job today else I lose the job, I'm in two minds but I guess I'll go through with it anyway, it's only 2 months after all! Then I'll be in Bournemouth :-)

Anyhoo, I'm off to sign up for Stephen's favourite programme. Hope he'll watch it if I get on!

Recent news

Good news - I now have to be in the UK from September 10th to October 16th to do my CELTA course as I just sent Mark off with Mojo to post my acceptance letter and deposit cheque.  I best get looking at flight times now and let Claire know I'll be descending on her abode in due course!

In other recent news: I out-witted a bug yesterday afternoon and let me tell you it was no close thing, I mean I really out-witted him, he had no chance against my brains and brutality...  He was sat on one of the metal spokes on my trolley outside Aldi and I spun that trolley round at high speed until he... well until he fell off really.  Who said life in Brittany was boring?  There's tons to do, and a lot of insects.

Back to Brittany

Leaving my absolute favourite city for good was quite possibly the hardest thing I have ever had to do.  Sat on the metro (feeling like a pack horse who'd just been employed by a bourgeois antique collector who'd suddenly decided he wanted to move all his stuff from one side of France to the other - except the stuff in my bags wasn't quite as valuable) I felt something wet drip down my cheek - that's right - some rain water had fallen from the Dupleix track onto my head as the previous metro had rumbled past - typical.

As the last visions of Paris jerkily zoomed past, I began to reflect on all the good times.  Thankfully Montparnasse is only a few stops down the line....

One thing I certainly won't miss is the parisian attitude.  I was unfortunate enough to have an encounter with one such character in my dying seconds of Paris time.  For there, upon the steps stood a hunky, yet menacing (he had a gun) soldier.  Naively, (even after 3 years) I thought he may have offered a helping hand as I struggled not to land on my back whilst falling backwards with all my bags from the top step (on which the unhelpful git was standing).  Of course he didn't - I suppose yawning and stretching must be an integral part of Sarkozy's training programme as I must say he did that awfully well...

The SNCF journey was OK - except for all the petitions I didn't sign that kept appearing under my nose - attached to which were young, eager French students (worse kind).

I have to admit - I was very upset upon leaving as I watched the last of the highrise buildings wizz past my window.  Then, shortly after, something magical happened.  Trees and green fields as far as the eye could see - a smile crept accross myself (in reflection it was more of a sprint than a crawl but 'crept' sounded better) and I do believe a little exclamation of glee escaped my lips as the reality hit me - I don't live in Paris anymore!!

No more being hassled by the "Do you speak English?" "Is this your ring, it's pure gold!" "I draw your portrait pretty lady?" and the most painful of them all "Bling bling, 2 euro."  I can walk the side of the street without the fear of crazed old drunks brandishing empty wine bottles and best of all... peace and quiet will be possible!

Despite all of the above I am still filled with melancholy, now I know why.  It's not because of Paris or University but it is because of you.  My very good friends.  You guys mean so much to me and I am so glad to have met you all.

The positive ending is thus : next time we meet it will be better, because it won't be in Paris!  See what I did there?!

PS- It's difficult to spot but you may have noticed a tiny bit of artistic licence at the beginning.

Post - teenage turmoil

Make no mistake, leaving the education system is scary.  I mean really scary, even scarier than Rolf Harris turning up on your doorstep with his wobble board… and let’s face it - that would be terrifying. 

It’s simple, you look around and realise that your life has started.  Time to think seriously about the future, about who you wish to share that future with and where… It’s no wonder so many young people are on Prozac nowadays, I even know someone who is pondering moving to Palestine.  You see, the sudden realisation makes you do (or hopefully just think) some damn crazy things.

As for myself, I’m not sure what my reaction will be.  I’ve thought some interesting thoughts over the past three years and now is no exception.  Should I open a bar on a beach on a Greek island, start a language school in Brittany or travel the world in search of my destiny?  Suggestions are welcome (especially from Stephen as you’re probably the only one reading!)

I guess anything is an adventure now, even if plans have been made (I really wish they had been.)  Still, CELTA in September should be fun, perhaps that will give me more ideas, failing that I think "Lucy's Tours" has a lovely ring to it.  Or possibly "Lucy's Wine Tasting Tours" would be more explicit!

Hmmm, I'm glad I started a blog, it helps with inward reflexion and will hopefully aid in outward decisions.

I would promise that the next entry will be more positive but apparently I'm not someone who is able to highlight only the positives...  I will try my best and think only positive thoughts

PS- I caught a cold on the way back from Pairs, great.

PPS- That was still the same entry

Ode to my friends

It's been three years in gay Paris,

What memories will I take with me?

Well first comes Nicky who's taught me lots,

About sexy inuendos and how to drink shots,

Not forgetting those innovative corridor games,

Things without you Nicky just won't be the same!

From Moroccans to firemen to a one legged man,

Your eyes are like some sort of super sex scan!

You and I (though different) go well together,

And for a flat mate I couldn't have asked for better.

So here's to Nicky and all that comes to her next,

We wish her well and of course... lots of sex!!

Natasha, we also drink to you,

With so many quotes it's hard to chose!

But your smile is what I'll remember the most,

Plus those classic moments of you playing host!

Who cares if onions go first or last?

As long as we're all having a jolly good laugh!

So here's to Natasha and the rest of her life,

You're bound to make someone the perfect wife!

Stephen, I've saved the last lines for you,

Cuz you're the one who makes leaving the hardest to do,

Your sharp witted humour has kept me on my game,

I just hope that for you, I have provided the same,

After three (long) years of mutual piss taking,

You know you have a true friendship in the making

You're bound to be successful in whatever you do,

So this toast is to say that I'll really miss you.

To have made such good friends in such a small place,

Made it hard yesterday when packing my case,

But Natasha, Stephen, Nicky, Brittany's not that far,

So this is not a good bye but just an 'au revoir' ;-)