So I'm back in Limoges after an amazing 2 week break back home.
But let's start at the most sensible place, the beginning. In the last 2 weeks in Limoges most of my classes were cancelled, so not a lot to report (that I can remember) on that front. On the Tuesday before we left, however, Ansleigh Jon and Anais hosted their Christmas party, which was lots of fun. I made posh caramel shortcake and some wee canapé type things which if I do say so myself were very good.....
The party was lots of fun, and lots of people came and brought interesting food and drink. It was spoiled, however by the neighbour coming up and complaining for a good 20 mins. Not that it was late, but anyway.
I left on the Friday morning, and boy oh boy was it a nightmare. On the Thursday night, Limoges was covered in one hell of a blanket of snow. There was so much of it, and so so quick. I thought nothing to it until Friday morning when I realised things might get problematic. I phoned a taxi extra early, and it just didn't come. I waited, thinking that there was no way I could walk with my 2 huge bags. Ended up that I had to walk, and luckily a kind old chap gave me a lift half way. Well, I had missed my train but they transfered me on to one an hour later. I arrived into Charles de Gaulle in time after a hellish transfer due to closed metro lines, snowed in walkways and what not. Eventually got to the airport and waited in the security line for an hour. The scene that followed was like something out of that crappy ITV programme Airline. Kids crying, fat Irish women screaming at the top of their lungs "I want to speak to Stellios, there's a bomb in me biscuit tin, I will never fly Easyjet agaaaiinn", Disgruntled and dourfaced airline employees taking it all in their stride. The Dublin flight had been cancelled, and the Glasgow one was delayed by about 2 hours.
Anyway, moving on - thanks to Katy McGuire for the lift I got back home later on that night. The 2 weeks were spent doing what I love best - a careful mixture of family and friends, driving my little car, loafing round the house and generally just doing all the stuff I miss from Glasgow. I ate so many Scottish breakfasts I cannot tell you.
On the Saturday I had a mishap, and slid on Black Ice in my car, straight into a parked Citroen. The owner came out straight away and I was caught. £700 later I sent the cheque and that was that... Painful.
Christmas fast approached as I continued to see friends, had my work night out and whatnot, and the day itself was amazing. Got what I expected - DVDs, books, novelty stuff and a few clothes. Never have I been more interested in the day and the ideas than the presents - I'm getting so old. I kept shouting at Abi for leaving wrapping paper lying around - what a bore. But the day was great, Granny Smith, though ill from the treatment, was up and Gran McGinty and Jamie came up for dinner after all the Uncles as per usual. Also, Dad was home in a surprising turn of events as the club was quiet. He "delegated" and spent the first Christmas day at home in a very long time.
The day is over so quickly, isn't it? Boxing Day came and Alex was arriving for her short stay with us. I picked her up at the bus station, and we had a quick tour of the dear green place and noodles at Ichiban - god they're good. We spent the evening in the not so convivial atmosphere of the hut, being a tough old bird she rolled with the punches so to speak.
We spent the next few days in museums, shopping, socialising, eating... Her last day we spent shopping and then Panto! We went to see, as a whole familt, Aladdin at the King's in what is a very very British tradition. How much she understood or found funny we will never know, there is a fair whack of Glaswegian humour in there, and Gerry Kelly's knees are totally inexplicable.
New year approached, and we found ourselves in Buff Club. It was excellent, and a great group was there. Most left awfully early to go wlsewhere, but a core team stuck it out to the end. Then came my last few days, dreading the thought of going back I squeezed in some more. New years day was the usual steak pie and drunkery with the extended family, and Justy, Stephen and I went to see Nine - bloody excellent by the way.
The second, my last day, we spend most of it in Sleazy's for food and drink, and must have been there for about 7 hours... Then came the journey home. Nightmare transfer in Paris meant I was late for the last train to Limoges. Found a cheap hotel and bedded for the night, and got a train (also delayed) this morning. Not cheap, but back in the chateau now.
Monsieur is in Barcelona, and I need to get shopping. Its back to reality right enough...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment