Highs and Lows of being back in Britain

Having lived in places of the world where the sun nearly always shines (though the temperature differed) getting re-acclimatised  to the grey, hanging weather was not going to be easy. It did seem to be going on forever - and then the sun came out this week!!! Temperatures of 25 degrees C and blue skies brought the smile back and Britain was beautiful. Just wish this could be guaranteed for the next 4 months. Maybe if I wished really hard?.........

The low point is more a veritable deep sea trough - the school admissions process. After having received the feeling that the LEA did not care about the boys' education on the 10th May, I left them to their 20 school days. When nothing had been heard by day 23 I phoned the school we want the boys' to go to. Only to discover that they had been contacted by the LEA on 19th April and told the Education Authority that there was a place for the youngest but not the eldest. So my youngest could have been in school 4 weeks ago, and the Appeal process could have been started (and maybe even finished) for my eldest! That same day I phoned the LEA to ask when I would hear only to be told "We've been very busy. I have your application on my desk. It will be actioned this week." Whilst I can understand that offices get busy, I was hurt by the fact that they couldn't even send an email or phone to explain the situation that they were trying and would get it done. But nothing was sent and no apology offered when I phoned. Today (school day 26), I received a letter in the post, postmarked 23rd, letter dated 22nd, giving our youngest a place in the school of our choice. This is great news. However, I felt a real sense of "being had" by the system as the letter is a stock letter sent out to everyone. There is no mention of taking too long, not meeting their own self-imposed targets, nor the fact that because of their incompetence my children are on their 5th week out of school.

There was no letter for our eldest. Apparently, according to the LEA this afternoon a letter for him was sent at the same time! Let's hope tomorrow's post brings news. If he doesn't get the school of our choice I want to Appeal but currently have no idea how long that process might take. The only thing that is certain is that it will probably entail some emotional heartache for me as I have to explain to a bunch of strangers why he should be in that school! If anyone reading this post has had experience of the process would be grateful for advice and tips on how to win!

Aaaaagh! UK School Admission System stinks!

After an early start, 17 hours in the car, quick chip test for the cats at Calais - we arrived knackered at my mum-in-laws. Our life squeezed into every nook and cranny of the car, roofbox and trailer. The cats weren't happy to be in their box but they definitely thought travelling by car better than by plane - they talked to us occasionally from the boot to remind us that they were still there.

Moving back was emotionally draining and physically exhausting. Especially after the lovely drinks and meal with our wonderful Dutch and French neighbours who had so quickly become friends. But the hardest work was yet to come.

Finding a suitable rental property was very difficult - family sized house with a garage, a garden and being within the catchment for a good primary school was a lot of boxes to tick but we did it and have now been living in the lovely historic town of Malmesbury for 10 days! It has taken this long to write my blog because of waiting to be connected to broadband which happened yesterday! However, finding a house and getting internet and television was easy compared to how frustrating it has been to get the boys into school!

At the moment, 3 weeks after doing the application and 10 days after moving in we are still waiting for an answer as to whether they have a space in the school 5 mins away or not! The system allows them 20 working days to get a reply out to us! Despite the fact that the children are not in school and I am homeschooling them. (That is a whole separate blog!)

I have just had a conversation with the Local Education Authority, which I instigated because I wanted to find out how much longer they were going to take and gently remind them that the boys are not in school. I can not remember the last time a phone conversation left me so frustrated and belittled.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Why is it taking so long?"
LEA:"We have 20 days to give you an answer."
Me: "Why, when you know my children are not in school?"
LEA:"We have 20 days."

LEA:"You're living in Calne?"
Me:"No - as I said on my form, we were at my mother-in-laws when we came back from overseas and we would be in Malmesbury from 28th April. I clearly stated our future address."
LEA:"Well you said you lived in Calne, we need proof of address for Malmesbury."
Me: "But if I had put down Malmesbury you wouldn't have asked for proof of address."
LEA:"No, but you put down Calne."
Me:"Why are you only telling me now when I've phoned up? When were you going to contact me?"
LEA:"Well we are now - we need proof of address."

Me:"Will this delay the process as we are at week three?"
LEA:"Your application is pending."
Me:"But you won't give me an answer until I send proof of address?"
LEA:"No but we have 20 days"
Me:"In the meantime I am homeschooling and technically breaking the law having the children out of school."
LEA:"You chose to move them."

So as you may have gathered they have 20 days to get an answer out, and 20 days they will take. They are not bothered by the fact that children are not officially in school - so that implies that it's ok to go on holiday during term times. They cannot think outside the box and read forms and understand them when the future address and moving date is give and the school being applied for is no where near the address for correspondence given on the form. A proof of address is required yet they had chosen not to tell me.

I know that the fight is not over for the school is fairly full and has a place for only one of my boys. But it is the closest, 5 mins walk as opposed to 15 minutes in the car adding to the pollution and frustration on morning roads. So I will have to face the appeals process and then possibly have to make a decision about either moving them both to the same school or splitting myself to be in 2 places at once!

The French education system may have been poorer than the British; however their administration is streets ahead of ours!

One Thing Achieved!

I can leave Carla knowing that I have achieved one thing at least whilst being here. I have managed to make 27 French children and their teacher understand that England should not be used to refer to the whole island across Le Manche!

Delphine, my youngest's teacher, asked me to come into class and explain about life in England (in French of course!). Being Scottish I decided to take advantage of the situation and try to get it across to the children that there was more than one country across the water and therefore everyone was not English. So I presented the maps of Great Britain and one of the UK and explained that there were four countries - all very different.

My one day in class became three sessions of 2 hours each! I have managed to talk about cities, industries and tourists sites in England, Scotland, Wales and N Ireland! Learning new vocabulary as I went along. They had not realised that laws and systems were different between England and Scotland and that for years they had been at war with each other. But they loved the tale of Nessy and finding out that Arthur and Merlin had lived in Wales! I also treated them to some UK tastes - home-made rice crispie cake, shortbread and marmite on crackers. Marmite was not their favourite taste!

I could answer most questions posed though I was stumped (sorry about the pun!) when Delphine asked me to talk about sports particular to the UK. I couldn't think of anything and it was Delphine that said "What about Cricket and that game with horses and sticks?" Well, can you imagine trying to explain the game of cricket (which I have never played and rarely ever watched) in French to a bunch of kids and a teacher who have never seen it either? Even my lovely diagrams on the whiteboard did not enlighten them further!

As I was in school for a third time I thought I would take advantage of being in the classroom alone before the children came in, to take photos to show you what the inside of the boys' school is like.

On the right is our eldest's classroom. He sits at the end of the back row in centre of the photo. He is in CM1 and shares the room with those in CE2 and CM2. So the ages range from 8 to 11 (almost 12). The rooms are very basic and old. The photo on the left is the corridor outside the classrooms.

 This on the left is the class of our youngest - CP and CE1 - the first two years of French school (7 and 8 yr olds). This is the part of the classroom for the 8 CP children. They face one white board and the CE1 are to the right facing another whiteboard on the wall at 90 degrees to CP. You can see their desks in photo below. Teacher sits in the back right corner.


Our 3 months here has at times felt long but has actually gone quite fast. But it is good to  know that I've managed to educate a few french children on the geography and highlights of the United Kingdom. It was fun to be involved in the classroom and the children were very welcoming and patient with my stumbling over certain vocabulary. As with my last post - more good memories to take away.

Ground rush!

Three sleeps! The days are rushing past and I am slowly ticking things off the list. We have had a week of gorgeous weather which has provided lovely memories to take away of this beautiful area of southern France.

Last Friday was Carnaval at school. Originally associated with Mardi Gras and to celebrate the start of Spring, the boys' school tends to hold it closer to the Easter holidays probably because of the slightly better weather.

The parade started from school about 2 o'clock and weaved its way through the little streets of the village. We made a stop for sweets at the centre for handicapped young people then we moved on down the hill to the centre for asylum seekers. There Monsieur Clown was unloaded from the trailer and set on fire. Whilst he burnt everyone tucked in to gouter, cakes, pancakes and more sweets!

It was a good afternoon with wonderful weather.

We were invited to my youngest's teacher's house on Sunday afternoon and to visit the small village of St Lizier. It was a lovely afternoon with so much hospitality and friendship being shown to us that I hope we can maintain the friendship and I can continue to practice my French by writing to her. We were served fois gras made by her mother-in-law. This was served with a bread that was called bear's paw and home grown preserved figs. Then we had the rest of the duck that had been preserved with salt and is called confit de canard. Then after the kids had run off some energy outside we set off for St Lizier just 5 minutes away where there is a gorgeous Roman Church with beautifully preserved murals and calm and inviting cloisters. Many years ago the bishops lived there and there is still a palace at the top of the hill.

The views from the top near the Bishop's Palace were stunning and that is despite the haze which veiled the Pyrenees preventing them from being in sharp focus. There were lots of little details on the houses that had no real purpose except to make you smile.

It was a good end to our short stay in France, but hopefully cemented the friendship between Delphine and I. And, hopefully the dream will happen in the future.

Life in Freeze frame - where now?

I found a link to this on another blogger's site (  ThresholdMum  ) so thought I would give it a go as it sounded like fun.

My life is in freeze frame. We have taken the decision to head to the UK for education and to be together as a family. And yet I feel sad, sad that a life in France was not to be, sad that we are back in the UK but without real purpose as my husband is looking to change jobs but to what and where is unknown.
I have no jewellery tools to make any new designs and feel very much in limbo. I am starting to feel that I need and want more in my life than being the trailing spouse. But I can never be the major bread winner as I have been out of the habit of a sizeable salary for so long. Therefore I have to continue to wait until my husband lands a new job, a new house is found and the children are happy and settled.
And yet that has an indefinite timeline. So maybe I should use it to work out what it is I want to do, what I can do? With that then maybe I can answer the where now? Not just for my family but for me.

Life after the dream

I didn't know how much I had wanted the dream until we took the decision to move to the UK. I feel that I have gone through a period of grieving. For something that will now never be - our family growing up in the beautiful countryside of France, bi-lingual. The long summer evenings living outside and drinking good wine.

However, we were not prepared to gamble on the education. Being bi-lingual would be an amazing skill but not at the expense of all the other attributes and skills that learning should bring. Even after only 3 months the boys have a good level of French and using a private tutor back in the UK will hopefully build on this knowledge and give them the chance to be as fluent as possible. As for the boys, now they know they are going to the UK they are more relaxed with their language and improving even faster.

A comment that my youngest made when we told them brought home how two people can look at things so differently. For me I am going back, even the very phrase sounds negative. I know about the traffic, the poorer climate compared to France, I lived there for 30 years. However, for my little ones they cannot remember ever living there. It was always only a holiday destination. My youngest said that he was excited to be going to live in England because he had never lived there before and didn't know it. I realised that showing them the country whose passport they hold will be exciting. And actually as I have not been there for 6 years we will all be like strangers, discovering the culture and customs all over again. So we are going to be tourists, learning the heritage and history of the land they call England.

The list of things "To Do" is shorter than last time but still quite meaty. A lot is done, cats have their passports, tunnel booking is changed, landlord notified. Just a simple thing of squeezing our stuff into one estate car and roofbox. As my husband doesn't arrive back till the day before we leave at 6 am we have decided to err on the side of caution and buy a trailer to ensure that it will all fit in! One of the major things on the "To Do" list is to find a house in a catchment area of a good school with spaces for the boys within commuting distance of my husband's work. Unfortunately it is proving to be moveable jigsaw puzzle that refuses to be finished. I fear that I may yet be home schooling the boys. We have another 3 weeks to find a place so fingers crossed!

What now?

In my last post, granted only posted today, but written about 2 weeks ago, I hinted at our concerns about the difference between the two education systems. It is something that worries me. We were so lucky with our last school. It had a carpet for the kids to sit on to listen to the teacher, the modern desks were placed so that the children sat together in groups of 6 or 7 and there was a white board in every classroom. The children from FS2 up had regular access to technology and a large space to run around outside.

The current one as previously mentioned has a yard 20m by 10m. All ages play in this space from the small maternelles at 3yrs old up to the CM2 at 11. The access to the two classrooms is up a dark staircase. The classes have 3 different year groups in them. Our youngest's class has two rows of desks each facing a different wall. The desks are old. At first glance there is very little order in the classroom with piles of books and papers on desks on the far side of the room. The eldest's class is similar, accept that they all face the one blackboard at the front of the class. The headmaster is also a full-time teacher only having Friday out of the classroom to attend to headteacher stuff. There is no school secretary. There is a before / afterschool service and these ladies also look after the kids at lunchtime because the teachers have no responsabilty for the children during this time.


A good thing about being here is taking part in the "out of the classroom" lessons. Two weeks ago the boys went cross-country skiing for the day at le Plateau de la Beille. The weather was amazing and it was a fantastic day. It allowed me to see first hand the differences between UK and French ways of doing things. There were no seatbelts on the bus. The teachers did the cross-country skiing instructing, however given that for most it was their first time, either ever, or at least for a year, there was no basic instruction of how to put on the skis, how to move or even how to stop! I was walking with the bottom group helping to pick them up when they fell but I was a bit concerned about my two given that they had not done this before and they were put in the top two groups because they had done downhill skiing. At lunchtime the children were told to sit on the snow and have their packed lunch whilst the teachers all sat together. There was no real concern to ensure that all the children were drinking enough or staying warm. It was then that I learned that teachers in France have the right to hit a pupil! Listening to my eldest describe his morning it sounded like a testosterone filled group that had been out to go as fast as possible uphill and down. Although he is competitive at other things he felt out of his depth, not helped by the fact that the teacher mocked him every time he fell over. This was more evidence that he has not settled and feels completely under-confident in everything that he does. Luckily he was able to change groups and went in the next one down with his brother and loved the afternoon session.

In January we had put in an offer on a house and had it accepted. We had even got as far as going to the lawyer's to sign the first of the documents leading to purchase - the compromis de vente.  However the seller dragged his heels on completing a survey required for sale on the septic tank. When it eventually came in, it transpired that he had not had a new survey done just the old report re-written. He thought it said that everything was fine. He ignored the part that said that it was fine for up to 5 people! Given that it was a house that could sleep over 8 with gites that slept 12 we were not going to be able to take the "do nothing" option with the septic tank. The cost was unknown and was probably going to be very high. Too high for our budget so sadly, we pulled out of the sale. 

Where does that leave us? The situation is thus: no house, a school system that does not appear to offer what I think my boys need, a rental that is too small for our needs, all our stuff in storage and a husband at home 4 nights a month. This all adds up to not much of a life. So we have had to admit that, this time around, our french dream is not to be. It is something for later on, for hubby and I together when we only need to worry about watering vegetable patches and having a cave du bon vin. 

The question now is where do we live? As of 7 April we have no house nor a school for the boys. Answers on a postcard please!

10 Weeks in - Opinion so Far?

I wrote this weeks ago but it is still worth publishing to bring you up to date with what we've been up to.


Well we've been here 10 weeks. The boys have spent 8 of those at school. Many of you may be wondering how it's going and how the boys are coping with this new life. I will endeavour to be honest - as various articles on-line and in magazines that I have read recently have glossed over the reality of moving somewhere new and the difficulties of integration for children as well as adults. This is perhaps because the articles were written over a year into the new life and like all things painful the human body has the ability to forget the bad bits! Perhaps if you too, have had experience of this, you could give some advice and help to me and any others who are also on this rollercoaster ride.

We had got into a routine by the end of January: school drop off at 840am, pick up for lunch at 1145am, drop them back off at 130pm and pick up at end of school at 430pm. Then it is time for a quick snack before homework. Homework is given by my youngest's teacher for him but the eldest ( in CM1 - the second last class of primary school in France) gets nothing. Initially he thought this was good until he realised that I had found books to help him with learning French. Hachette and Nathan both publish books for each academic year covering all subjects and include answers. So he does work that I have set. The youngest's school work includes the sounds of letters and the various ways they can be formed, spelling, reading and learning poetry. I also give him extra work from the books. As you can imagine evenings can be fretful - explaining the homework, translating it and trying to cook tea. Tuesdays are a bit different. It is the night for the eldest's football and the other's basketball. Both at the same time but in different villages! Luckily the neighbour across the road takes his son to football too so I only have to do the pick up after the basketball has finished! But as we are not home before 815pm, they need food before they leave at 6pm. Wednesday is school-free but we still try to do some work.

Then February interrupted the routine with bad weather and the 2 week holiday. Despite doing work during the holidays it was always going to be difficult to go back to school. We've had tears from both over the last week. It is really hard to try to console your little ones whilst you know that they are going into an environment every day where they understand little and can communicate even less. It does make you question why? A move is hard enough but we chose to put a new language into the mix. To this add the doubts over the education system. Our youngest has a super teacher she's in her 30's, she gives me updates on his progress and stresses how well he is doing and how fast he is picking up the french. This allows me to help bolster his confidence when he is upset about not understanding what is happening in class.

Unfortunately the exact opposite can be said about our eldest's teacher. He is old-school, has a strong local dialect and gives no feeedback whatsoever. The impact on our eldest was seen the other night when he dissolved into tears saying how he hated school because he can't understand what's going on, what the teacher is trying to teach or ask him to do. I think he is also affected by not getting any homework - it is emphasising how incapable he is. It then came out just how old-school the teacher is - he shouts a lot. Not necessarily just at those who are misbehaving. I learnt that our eldest had been shouted at numerous times for dropping a pencil on a desk, for trying to shut the classroom door that refused to stay shut and for accidently kicking the football at playtime too high so that it went over the metal fence and into the garden next door!  The boys have also been upset by the roughness of the other children. They shout lots, push and shove in the queue and don't necessarily do what the teachers are asking them to do. All of this is very alien to them as well as to me for our last school was calm, all children were polite and quiet in the corridors, they listened to the teachers when they asked for silence. This has had an impact on my two - they are much noisier at home. Partly because of the noise levels at school and also because they are not as active because the playground is only about 20m by 10m.

La Vie francaise

As I expected, my good intentions of writing every week took a dip over the last 2 due to having 2 boys to entertain on their hols! But back to work today so I thought I would give a little insight into la vie francaise.

Before school broke up for the holidays the school held the Loto in the village hall. I say village hall, it is more accurately described as a large gym where local sports groups play handball and basketball and known in french as la salle polyvalente. It was on a Friday and started at 830 pm. Knowing that the French rarely start on time we arrived slightly late but weren't the last. We had the basics of how to play explained to us and bought our cards and counters (cartons and jetons). It turns out that it is Bingo. The counters are used so that they can re-use the cards each time. The French are quite addicted to their Loto and go to at least one a week. Many take it very seriously with chatting and noise discouraged. Even at the school's event, where the kids were included and expected to take part, children older than 5 were expected to sit at the tables and not make a noise! The boys had been practising it all week at school and did well identifying their numbers. We didn't even get close to a full card and never managed to be the first to fill a line - so no prizes for us. The prizes ranged from a sledge filled with children's toys and books to a gift certificate for €100 to a 5kg bag of flour and some cider! They broke for coffee at 11pm and still had five more games to play. The kids had been good but even they had a limit to how long they can listen to numbers being called out in French! So, using my leg in a brace as an excuse we left.

As previously mentioned we started the process of registering our car in France. The MOT centres here don't fix anything that is wrong - just fail your car and you have to then pay to re-test later. So we booked the car in with our local garage, Monsieur Perrot to get anything fixed that needed it before the test. When we went back to pick it up he said that he hadn't done much except change a couple of bulbs so he hadn't yet worked out how much we owed him and that he would give us an invoice, sometime!

We had been told that registering the car can be a lengthy and frustrating process. But also that if you are organised it is ok. So we got organised. Having made a list of everything we needed and the order it needed to happen. We started slowly ticking things off. I think it is the length of time that it takes that is possibly the frustrating part but happily we got every document that we needed. Last week I left the house before everyone else was awake to get to Foix, our principal town with the Prefecture, in time to join the queue for the carte grise - the official document for your car similar to the V5 in Britain. I was 5th in the queue as the doors opened. Then we had to wait some more for the ticket machine to wake up in order to get our number to be served. It was a very orderly process and I felt quite French sitting with my dossier folder like everyone else! 10 minutes later I was at the counter passing over all the necessary documents to a very bored lady who obviously did this day in and out. Then I moved on down the hall to pay our tax for the carte grise - this time no queue. Then there was one final thing to do - find Intermarche and the man who makes the registration plates (plaques). Knowing that the kids would enjoy seeing the plates go on I took them home. We then went to our local garage and the very nice Monsieur Perrot put them on for us - and still hadn't worked out the invoice!

Snow, snow and French medical system

Well the snow that had been promised for the 29th came on the 1st. The bitter chill that proceeded it brought sleet and cancellation of football training for our eldest and the boys' school x-country skiing trip. It was decided that it wouldn't be much fun for the kids in such bitter conditions. A good decision it turned out because by the time the Friday came around, there was about 5cm of snow with us and lots of small roads were impassible. We braved (well in all honesty 'coz I can't drive - my husband braved!) the ice and snow to get the kids to school Thursday and Friday only to find that most of the kids and 50% of the teachers had not!

The boys loved the snowy conditions and spent hours creating their own version of Mont Blanc and tunnel as well as sliding down any slope they could find. The snow got heavier and the sledges came out! As the road was deep in snow and knowing so many never made it in the previous week we decided to have another snow day on Monday - much to the boys' enjoyment!

The one benefit of my knackered ACL is that my husband and I had longer to discuss an offer on a house that we have found. We decided that we should go for it and see if we could make our French dream a reality. So offer went in and after a nervous couple of days it was accepted! So now the daunting task of getting all the required pieces of paper together and all the i's dotted and t's crossed and monies in the correct place at the correct time! To add to the stress of course is the need to get the gites that come with the house up and running and advertised in time for summer bookings. Oh and find a school for the boys from September.

This week not only brought the snow but my appointment with the knee surgeon. He did a very quick yank and twist of the knee and nodded sagely agreeing with my diagnosis that I had torn my ligament. He needed it confirmed though with and MRI so we hobbled down to the Radio department and made an appointment then back up to orthopedics to make an appointment to see the surgeon again after the MRI. So no definite date for the op but have an MRI to look forward to on 29th Feb and then back to the surgeon on 7th Mar.  It is a lot quicker than the NHS system which is good, however, we had not yet fully registered with the french system as paperwork takes it time and therefore we will have to hope that the EHIC (European Health Insurance Card) does what it says it does - offer reciprocal cover to UK NHS whilst abroad. This should mean that I give them the details of how much we've spent and they then pay us back. We shall see how smooth and effective this system is!

In the meantime it is the February holidays. All schools in France have 2 weeks for skiing with the large school areas divided into zones to help avoid chaos at airports and ski resorts. We fall into the Toulouse area and Zone A so we're on holiday until 27th Feb. I had thought we could investigate the area and go for lovely walks but am having to re-think that!

Where do I start?......

I knew moving to France would, like everywhere, bring its own challenges. From having done a lot of research and talking with others who have already trodden this path I knew about the long administrative processes and the French love of paperwork. I knew about the settling in process, how it is a bit of a roller coaster experience until you begin to feel more "at home". What I wasn't expecting was the accidents of life.

Snow was forecast for our area for Sunday 29th. It was our youngest's birthday and we had promised him months ago that he could go skiing on his birthday to make up for the fact that he wouldn't really know anyone well enough to have a party. We woke up in anticipation of a white-out. But alas, nothing. So we headed off to Ax-Les Thermes and the resort of Bonascre. It lies south of Foix about an hour and a quarter from our house. We had winter tyres on and so felt confident that we would be ok on the roads. The snow didn't appear until we got to Ax. We saw many people putting snow chains on and wondered if we needed them. The sports shops were selling them so we decided not to be macho and buy a set putting them on as we saw the hill we needed to climb to get to Bonascre.

Blizzard conditions up the mountain!

We got to the top and set about organising ski hire and ski passes. We then headed up the mountain in the gondola. The weather got worse with every metre climbed. We got out half way up and immediately found ourselves in a snowstorm. Visibility no further than a few metres. Not the weather the children are used to and certainly not what they were expecting. But they slowly got their "ski-legs" back and we wound our way slowly back down the mountain. After about 3 hours we decided that we would call it a day and head for some chocolat chaud. 


200m from the bottom I turned to stop waiting for our youngest to start off again so that I would be behind him ready to help if needed. I was going slowly, too slowly and in turning right the back end of my left ski didn't. However the leg and the knee did. I heard a "crack" and fell over. Having previously ripped my right ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) many years ago I knew what it felt like. So believe thatI have managed to do the same to my left!!!


The fun didn't stop there though. After being transported down the hill in the sledge head first, I was put in the front if the ambulance as there was a bloke on a stretcher on the back. As we're heading off down the very steep slope the ambulance starts sliding out of control towards the edge and the crash barrier! The other helper in the car got out and put herself between the barrier and the vehicle to try to push the car around so that it was back facing down the hill. After this I discovered that there was only one chain on one tyre as the second chain had broken. 


We crawled down the hill in first gear. Then about 2 turns from the bottom and the clearer roads we came upon a bus coming up the hill. It had stopped to put chains on. He hadn't thought about stopping before the hill! So we sat for ages watching the driver get in and out the bus inching it forward and back to get it aligned with the chains and every time  he got out he slipped on the ice. By then there was a huge queue behind us and one guy decided to overtake - then he realised why we'd all stopped as we couldn't get passed the bus! So he put his brakes on and slid right into the back if the ambulance! To top it all I had been needing the loo since about 11 am and had not yet been. I was now fit to burst and couldn't hold it in any longer so I told the ambulance lady and she got a sheet out and held it, with the help of my hubby, to maintain my modesty whilst I did the biggest wee ever at the side if the road!! Took us 2 and a half hours to go a journey that should normally take about 40!!! 


When we got to the hospital I was seen quite quickly and had my knee x-rayed to check there was no fracture. I was then given a full length leg brace to stabilise it and keep it straight. I have to keep it like that for 10 days waiting for the swelling to reduce. I had to then phone on Monday to make an appointment to see the specialist surgeon on Wed 8th. Which, perhaps unlike the UK, I got with no problem. The surgeon will then tell me how bad, or not, my knee is. Hadn't planned on experiencing the French medical system so soon. Haven't yet joined their social security system or taken out insurance - so lets hope the EHIC (European Health Insurance Card) works! On a positive note my husband is till here to drive the kids to school and ensure we have some food - so something good has come of it. Who knows what will happen next week!

Challenges

 I wrote last week about the challenges I had to face this week. Some went well, some didn't happen at all and then there were challenges that popped out at me!

First up was getting on with everyday life without my other half. Having done this numerous times before I thought I would have this nailed. But having to cope with it 3 weeks after having arrived in a new country, with all of our "life", bar what we fitted into 6 suitcases, in a warehouse somewhere in the UK, and hundreds of miles away from friends and family was a lot harder than I imagined. It has led to some lows this week and brings out the "snappy mum" in me. This is where the smallest things that the kids do, which would normally be dealt with calmly lead to me shouting and sounding like a crazed banshee. Not helpful for anybody! But we have all managed to make it through the week unscathed.

Getting the headlights swapped over for left-hand-drive ones is the first step of 8 required to get the car registered here. Luckily the husband of the estate agent lady that we've made friends with here knew a guy who sells Volvo parts just in the next village along. And amazingly enough he had lights for our age of car! There was just the simple problem of how to get back to the house (4 miles away uphill) whilst he had the car for 2 hours. I normally hate having to depend on others and have never been good at asking for help but I tried it on Tuesday when I asked our lovely Dutch neighbours if they wouldn't mind picking me up and taking me back. They were of course delighted to help. This week really proved how much nicer life can be when people help out with just little things.

The main challenge I faced this week was my confidence with the language and that was going to be tested on Friday at the course for parent volunteers to help with school cross-country skiing groups. I knew I had to get skis but wasn't sure where the best place to hire them would be. The headmaster caught me at school drop-off on Monday to ask for my height and shoe size as he was going to get me skis and boots from the central store. He also warned me that there wasn't much snow at the training area and therefore the course might not happen. I didn't know what I wanted to hope for. No snow, meant I didn't need to get out of my comfort zone and yet I wouldn't be able to help out on the school trip. In the end, the course was cancelled but the head said I could still go to help out, I just wouldn't be qualified to take a group. So at least I will still see the boys try a new sport and help with the translation!

Another unforeseen challenge was something that should have been a breeze - changing the brake light. I it is something I have done before. I had spare bulbs, I had the instruction manual. It was all in english so no problem with understanding. However the bits that were meant to twist and remove just refused to budge! Having spent half an hour on it on Wednesday I was determined to give it another go on Thursday. Perhaps it was the sunshine, or perhaps it was the screwdriver I found that helped the cover to come off - either way I succeeded. Definitely the small things that give most satisfaction!

Next week holds the bitter sweet pleasure of hubby back for 2 nights. It will be lovely to see him but then there's the same mini-grieving process to go through when I drop him off at the airport. It's also the school trip to Beille for the ski de fond (cross country skiing). On top of that the forecast is predicting 3cm of snow on Sunday so my youngest should be entertained on his birthday!

Time before now

Many of you may be questioning why I didn't write anything between March 2010 and now. I guess the simple answer is life just got too busy. I started the blog as a focus for my writing and an outlet for my feelings. However, my depression and annoyance at being in Saudi was never going to be of much interest to readers. So I tried to make light of the experience by creating an iweb site and being a tour guide around Riyadh for my family back home. In doing so, I got myself out of the black hole.

And that is probably the best thing about blogging for me. It's not really a diary - that is too intimate and no-one is expected to read it until perhaps after you're gone. You are writing, knowing (or at least hoping!) that someone else will stumble across your words and take the time to read them. So in order to respect them for doing that, the least I can do is provide words worthy of being read.

So to broaden the subject field I will write about the other things we got up to and dealt with in our other postings round the world. I'll start with the most recent first - Saudi Arabia. The link below takes you to the earlier travel blogs about days out and about from Riyadh.

http://web.me.com/solenzara/Life_Around_the_World/Blog/Blog.html

Three Weeks In

A six month "stage" or the start of a new life in a new country? My emotions are on a roller coaster at the moment and possibly because of being away from my "home" country for close to 6 years I am currently wishing to be amongst those who speak my tongue and within a short drive of friends and family.

For the boys it is the end of the first 3 weeks of school. They have done fabulously well. I don't think I would have been too happy to be abandoned with a group of people that neither you understood nor could understand you. We have had tears mainly at school drop off from the youngest but the staff have been lovely and are really trying to reduce the pain of their transition. The school only has 2 classes; within each there are 3 different class groups. Our youngest is in CP - the first official year of school. But in reality all French kids have been at school in les maternelles from about 3. CP just formalises the learning and when they officially start to read. He has the Grand Section of maternelles with him in the morning and the CE1 (class above CP) with him all day. In the words of the teacher - she's not left with any time for the fun stuff in class because she is concentrating on the reading, writing and maths between the 3 ages. The eldest is in CM1, the second last year of primary school. He has CE2 and CM2 in the same room with him. His teacher is also the headmaster. He doesn't teach on a Friday so that he can do the paperwork that goes along with the job. There are no TA's and no school secretary. This is a French country village school with only 65 children.

The school has made efforts to accommodate those children who don't have French as their first language. This means that Monday and Tuesday they are in their respective age group classes following the national curriculum. Then on a Thursday and Friday those who don't speak French have special teacher who comes in to teach French language. There is a centre for asylum seekers nearby so there are a number of children who are in the group. The boys are coming out with more words at home, slotting them in the middle of english sentences.

The boys have also joined a football club. Unfortunately the training is at different times. The youngest on a Saturday and the eldest on a Tuesday at a village 15 minutes away. This makes it a logistical juggling ball to get the youngest to basketball in the village closest to the house at the same time the other is meant to start football! A french neighbour across the way has a son who does the football training and he has offered to take our eldest - so hope he remembers!

To sum up - how's it been so far? Well for the boys they are slowly making headway with the language and feeling more sure of what happens at school. My husband has headed back to work in the UK to ensure that we can still pay the bills. And me? Well I lost my best friend and am left feeling a bit liked a beached ship. I speak the language, but not as well as I would like and talking can sometimes be an effort. I end up restricting it to what I need to say. We are in the countryside and I am discovering that the beautiful sunrise over the Pyrenees, the huge numbers of birds of prey and deer loping over the fields is not sufficient. I need more stimulus, more options of courses and activities. And, I never thought I would say this, I miss like minded people - who have given up a birth country to settle in another. But that is why we decided to rent for 6 months whilst house hunting. We have committed to no more than a mobile phone contract and the cost to register the car in France.

Week four looms with 2 challenges - getting the headlights swapped over to LHD ones and a day's training in ski de fond (x-country skiing) for me so that I can accompany the school on their day out in early Feb. Just need to find skis to rent, find out where the course is and understand it! Not much then! Will update how it all went next week.

New Year - New Country

Well, almost 2 years since my last post. We've swapped sand for farmers' fields and views of the Pyrenees. Birds of prey everywhere - sitting on fence posts or tree branches or even on the ploughed fields. We've narrowly missed being hit by a deer streaming across the road in the dark and we've spotted 2 red squirrels. In the past month we've managed to move a houseful of our belongings to storage and travel with 9 bags, one box and 2 cats from the Middle East to France. Squeezed in a UK family Christmas and started our 6 month adventure in France.

The boys have started in the local school and we've managed to survive the first 2 and a half weeks!