Tuesday, March 17, 2015

All I can do is prepare

Our house in Brittany
We just loved Brittany. Gaston’s father has a house near Tregastel and it is very close to the sea so we were able to go for walks and admire the stunning scenery – which consists mainly of giant rocks. This place is a geologist’s dream.

I had forgotten what traveling with a small child is like and rediscovered this experience on our 5 hour trip from Paris to Brittany with Biggles – who is now 15 months old. 

He is never happy when strapped into a car seat – and especially not for five hours. But he is gorgeous boy and we love him dearly. He is especially gorgeous because he is a grandson and can be handed back to his parents whenever necessary.

15 month old babies attempt to eat a lot but not much ends up in their mouths. I am not sure if Hertz will try to clean the inside of the car or just decide to turn it into scrap.

We explored and ate French food and drank French wine. What could be better than that.

There are Puffins in Brittany but they are on the outer islands – and the boats were not running.

We picked up the car at Gare du Nord – which is next to where Molly and Gaston live. This proved to be a mistake and Cate has advised me that she is NEVER driving in Paris again.

It was a horrendous, hair-raising and excruciatingly slow trip to get out of Paris – and it was almost as bad getting back in. I don’t know what I was thinking of because every other time we have done something like this we have picked up the car outside Paris.

We spent a couple of days in Paris but we did not have time to do much except get Cate to the Eric Bompard shop on the Champs Elysees so that she could buy things.

The men are today installing the dog fence in anticipation of the arrival of a dog. I understand and agree fully with everything you have said about dogs but this is now out of my hands.

All I can do is prepare for the impending catastrophe.


  1. Good luck with the puppy (when he/she arrives).

  2. Maybe you should ask the men installing the dog fence to include a dog house. You never know, it might come in handy in the near future… when the innocent little animal succeeds in disrupting your harmonious existence. Click here.

  3. You're getting a dog?! Wow...that's quite a commitment for a died-in-the-wool cat person. Good luck!

  4. A simple question, just out of curiosity. In Brittany (which I happen to know like the back of my hand, because my children and their mother are Breton), it’s rare for the owner of an old stone longère [click here for a French-language explanation of this architectural term] to paint the woodwork in garish red. In seaside villages, this might occur if the owner happened to own a red boat, and had a stock of leftover paint. Otherwise, I can’t understand why Gaston’s father would have polluted visually the façade of his otherwise lovely old house. Is he maybe color-blind, and under the impression that his shutters and doors have the same kind of friendly deep green hue as the nearby woods? Another possible explanation: He’s a former fireman or torero, with a passion for red. Fortunately, the situation could be corrected rapidly by a good coat of light grey paint (a popular unobtrusive color for external woodwork in rural Brittany).

  5. I was under the impression that in most places people paint their houses whatever color they want. Perhaps William got off his meds again.