Since I arrived in the South of France, I’ve realised a few things:
- Without caffeine I am nothing. Without my fix of homemade espresso I have been forced to turn to Coca Cola. One of those boats in the harbour could float on the amount I’ve sloshed back.
- French beds are funny. On the first night I awoke yelling, “What the Hell was that?” At first, I was convinced that there had been an earthquake. Somewhat disconcerting when the land one is currently residing on is made predominantly of sand. Then as it happened again and again I slowly started to realise that the ‘earth shaking’ was actually my husband turning and rocking the bed. I would have written, ‘My bed is funny’ – but it turns out that the girls’ bed (a bunk) does exactly the same thing.
- Despite the fact that I like the earth moving for me – I won’t be having sex in France. The squeaky, swaying bed is freaking me out. It would be like having sex while lying on the sea. Besides, the children are awake before and asleep after me.
- My French is shit. But perseverance is the key. Between pidgin English and broken French, I have though managed to order and pick up a birthday cake for the upcoming birthday of my daughter. (She’ll be five on Wednesday). Quelle surpise!
- French birthday cakes are really expensive. It cost around €25 Gulp. The rest of the day we’ll just eat toast.
- French cakes are a work of art. I had to buy some extra mini cakes.
- We may end of living on cake. French cakes are scrumptious!
- I’m obsessed with shells. I cannot stop collecting them. I mean it. We’ll require a trailer to transport them home.
- Sand really does get everywhere. Another good reason for no sex. Things would chafe.
- Despite that, if I won the lottery I really would buy a beach house.
- I am useless at shaving my legs. I’d allowed my thermal layer to grow in at home, in preparation for the German winter. Then the night before leaving I had a quick shave before going to bed. Lying on the beach I noticed large glistening areas of blond hair. Luckily no passersby fainted/vomited/shouted insults – OK I can’t be sure of the last one, because of my crap French.
- It was a good idea not to give in and buy the ADHD one a balaclava. An adventurous ‘walk in the dark along the beach and then along the harbour’ revealed the woolly hatted one to particularly enjoy shining the torch on the boats. Imagine how that would have looked with a balaclava?