Fatigue, sore feet and granadillas

Fatigue, sore feet, granadillas

..... and this is my first day in France!!!  But hold up just a sec, wasn’t I in Africa more importantly the MOTHER CITY just three days ago, what is happening here......

So Wednesday morning arrive into Heathrow at 6.30 after NO sleep and two almost grown, well they felt like they were almost grown children lying on top of me so not at one’s best. Come through customs and hubby is no where to be seen the plane was early, of course, however I am digressing ... this will be a common trait so stop here now if digression is not for you.

Arrive home well it kinda of home been more like a warehouse  for the last six months with boxes everywhere and literally collapse it been a hard month of relaxing with the odd party or two for a ‘zero’ birthday and now NO sleep.

Thursday the big day to start packing and then simply pop all the household stuff into the trucks, yes 3 trucks, we did the Polish thing of a man and a van (a blog for another time)and off to the ferry by lunchtime well maybe a late lunch!  Six o’clock rolls round I am still instructing the ‘movers; how best to pack their trucks and remove all our worldly goods.

By 7pm we are finally in the new, well new to us MPV vehicle named Alice on the journey and am now frantically trying to find a ferry any ferry, just can we get across that channel, I am MUST get to France tonight!! I am exhausted from lifting and organising and what’s with these sore feet?

Finally we get on said ferry after paying an arm and a leg, no kidding, and we have a ‘lovely’ family  supper at 10pm.  Once docked at Calais only another 11 hours or so drive, WHAT ARE YOU KIDDING sleep deprived person here, remember??

However the ‘stuff that gives you wings’ and the almost freshly ground coffee is kicking in and I am rearing to go.  Hubby drives first little stint, haven’t driven Alice yet bit nervous off the ferry, wrong side of the road and all that, wimpy almost blond I know. My driving stints for the night/day (which country I am in) are around Paris and through Toulouse so the real easy ones then. Actually really don’t want to do the last bit, mountains over hangs, small roads,  lots of bends, not just yet thanks.

After 10 hours driving and a quick half an hour nap, we get into Limoux we check Eloise (the beloved feline) is ok and head for some lunch, did I not mention the constant meowing from London to Dover? Well, been in France we were too late, lunch is over and so we did the next best thing of toasting our journey so far with a Coupe de Limoux,  kids on the jus de  pomme.

Then with our tummies still rumbling and the many espresso and aforementioned caffeinated drinks start to kick in, I panic WHAT AM I DOING,  have I taken leave of my senses, who can go and live in France uproot the whole family and just expect it  all to work out? Well apparently me and then there it IS  >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

the most wonderful site of the Pyrenees ever, my heart swelling, in my head the heavenly choir is on top form. We have arrived to the most beautiful spot (in my eyes) in France.  The fatigue fades. the sore feet (unlike I have known since restaurant days) are not sore anymore, we drive into the rental house, the kids race for the pool and there they are: bright orange fruit and there are hundreds of them, granadillas in France (passion fruit to the uneducated) I have arrived to a touch of South Africa and a touch of mu children, heavenly, this is big soul stuff.

Now as these words come tumbling onto the page I cannot leave the view, Eric (the bat) has visited, I have met up with long lost friends who still don’t understand my ‘best’ French but I cannot leave this spot in my ‘office’ the mountain in front of me the sounds of the night around me and ‘village life happening its own way, actually a town but village just sounds more romantic.  The wine, my best ever; yes Ken I haven’t; left you behind and I think, this is it, this is how it’s meant to be but even I know it s not going to be this easy..... however there is going to be great granadilla liquor come the autumn and this year's vendage is on the horizon exciting times, oh and the fatigue, come on anyone can live on 30 sleep minutes in 24 hrs or was that just Maggie, bon nuit!