c'est affreux!

Yesterday was the coldest day we've had so far... So we decided to go to the beach.

It felt vaguely reminiscent of those 'summer' family outings to the coast, armed with cheese sandwiches that became cheese and sand sandwiches, a bucket and spade, waterproofs and the promise of a Mr. Whippy for good behaviour. 

Except our trip had a French makeover. Obviously. Rather than 5°C it was 15°C. Beige trench coats replaced the usual waterproofs. The cats were loaded into the car (is this normal pet-owner behaviour?) Alongside a baguette, foie gras and a couple of steaks.

On y va!

I felt the need to defend my Anglo-Saxon heritage, by dipping my tootsies in, thus proving i was impervious to cold temperatures. I am not. It was cold. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Yet, sporting a pokerface Lady Gaga would kill for.

Don't be fooled. Aleyna still had her shoes on.

And she's Swiss!

In true British summer style, we fired up the BBQ. Unlike your typical British summer BBQ, it was not raining. Nor was there a dutiful dad stood over the BBQ with an umbrella to protect the sausages. And it was steak. Sanglant.

 Eeyore

Laughing my ass off!

Aleyna, Me & Mère Française!

Somebody then pointed out we'd arranged ourselves (and our converse) in the colours of the French flag.

So i took a photo!

P.S. Happy ?th Birthday to Mama & Papa Hew. Santé!

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il vino did not flow

After a week of sitting in the Place Gambetta drinking the finest bottles of €2 wine Carrefour can provide, we felt we should soak up some culture. And of course more wine. Something to convince the parents we're not just on a jolly (we are).  Just two train stops from Bordeaux is the bella wine region of St. Emilion.

“Wine makes every meal an occasion, every table more elegant, every day more civilized.”

― Andre Simon

Huffing and puffing up the hill from the train station, we reached the cute little cobbled town. But whatttttttta view! Definitely worth the blood, sweat and tears. Vineyards for miles and miles.

I hate acting like a tourist. I'd much rather wander around until i see something i like (or get lost) than get out a guide book or map and simplify the whole process. However, after circling the St. Emilion Church trying to work out how to get inside, i begrudgingly ended up in the tourist office.

All in all a wise decision.

Ah voilà

- Le clé

Hand on the hips, check. Windswept hair, check. I'm sure this should look more chic.

Maybe it's the 140983 steps (possible exaggeration)!

View from the top

Stopping for a quick papshot to send home to the friends and fam.

With sunglasses?

Without?

BAM!

Once again admiring the view.

 Somehow we managed not to have even a drop of wine today. If that isn't a solid excuse to return...

... the view definitely is (did i mention the view!?)

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Marché des Capucins

It's no big secret that the french love their markets, here there seems to be several every day. As seasonal tourists we decided to head to the Saint Michel quartier of Bordeaux for the Marché des Capucins. My oh my, never have i ever seen quite so many market stalls. Or fromage!

Rows upon rows upon rows upon rows upon rows of fruit and veg stalls

New pal!

Now, i am the biggest fan of dried fruit. I am also quite an indecisive person. 

So naturally i spent approximately 125654hrs deciding what i wanted.

In the end i went for dried qumquat (wasn't a fan), kiwi (also not a fan), peach and figs. The figs were the winners in my eyes.

Hey did you hear about the explosion in the french cheese factory?

- All that was left was de brie!

(couldn't resist)

Saucisson

Poisson

Huîtres

Saint Michel

And it just wouldn't be France without a man playing the accordion...

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je vais à Bordeaux

ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

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