Sun, snow and châteaux

A month full of spoiling gone by, spoilt by the presence of family and friends from faraway coasts, and by the coasts themselves. It has been a crazy month that needs a bit of reflection to allow the senses to take it all in; wildlife and the bushveld, Cape Town and the sea, Jura mountains for a wedding reception, skiing in Flaine and wrapped up by the beautiful châteaux of the Loire valley. Best of all, being able to catch up with faraway friends and fandamily over some bubbly.

It's a lot of blogging to do, so time to bring in the photies...

A good place to start, the beginning... Kruger Park, bigger than Switzerland, and more exciting, well maybe that's a bit unfair since I have only ever been to Switzerland twice, and both time only about 5 km in to the airport. Though, doesn't strike me as a wild place! Kruger on the other hand is wild, albeit it a civilised kind. Ah magic! One of my favourite places in the world, it seriously resets the soul.

The light was just special that morning.
















They can be a bit tatty and war torn, but she was just beautiful.











































No too schabby a set of tusks.
















Elegance and grace antelopified.

View from Skukuza camp, it was amazing to see the bushveld so green, but then parts of Mozambique were a few feet under water after a cyclone made landfall.

Almost comical in proportions.

Jock Safari Lodge spoiling, our own private sala looking out over the river, awesome spot, thanks!

Now that's a big boy, not sure he agrees about that 'king of the jungle' thing.




























Sundowners African style.
























































A special morning light.

A farewell encounter.

A real highlight tour of South Africa, from Kruger to the Cape, summer just calls for a beach picnic. Wonderful to be able to chill on the beach into the evening! Not many cities like it...

From savannah and surf to snow, off to the Jura mountains in France, there is some celebrating to do!!!

Guest starring dj Bond

March, a time of plenty of cold and snow in the Jura mountains, hmmm not this year. Played havoc with the cross country ski season...

Although, when it came to leaving, the snow arrived... for a week, beautiful to wake up to fresh powdery white stuff.

The cemetery at Lamoura.

Leaving the Jura, although we would be staying with the powder... off to Flaine for some downhill skiing. Scarier, but less strenuous than cross-country. The storm had arrived and dumped a fair amount of nastiness on the roads, so after the 1st try we invested in some chains, turning our 307 into a worthy competitor for Raul's 4x4 206, amazing how much more you can do in a hired car.

Flaine was great, fresh powder all week, albeit falling all week as well so we weren't able to take in the splendour of what I imagine a clear view might bring. As for the village itself, hhmmm not somethign I would be proud to put my name against as an architect...

View from our apartment. Despite the unimaginative concrete, a cool spot. But I guess if you lack imagination the worst thing you could do is try make imaginative concrete... he really knew his limits.

One of the mogully ways to get down the mountain.
















Hmm who said no cross-countrying?
















View of the ugliest ski station in France, in the most incredible setting
















And as the weather is prone to do, on the eve of leaving it clears up and says a bright 'howzit!'.































The most spectacular evening, light to rival a morning in the bushveld, brrr missing 40 degrees or so...

Flaine also played host to a hundred odd nutters who do what is call ski randonnée. That's where you put a velvet like 'skin' (otter in the old days, I imagine before the bunny huggers got hold of that) on the bottom of your skis so that you can go straight up mountains. And so they did, 800 vertical metres, in the dark, up a red slope, wow! Have a drink and some nosh, and then bail down said route with a Petzl strapped to your head... hmm sounds like a sane evening out.

It was a great few days but then it was time to dig the car out and head from the ugliest to of the most beautiful buildings on display in France, to be found in the Loire valley.

Azay-le-Rideau, a small but beautiful château right in the village

Langeais, a little less pretty but I guess it was for pouring hot oil off the top of, or some such pleasant welcoming. Fit for purpose.

And Chenonceau, still the prettiest for me, and since you have seen it in previous blogs; a little taste of spring.

I don't expect future months will easily be able to live up to this one gone by, a little bit of everything.

Wishing you the chills of animal calls at night and some fresh snow to collect your backside when you wipe out.

Holy Cow!

Well I now know where all the cheeses come from... last Saturday Paris played host to the 140 somethingest agricultural show. More cows than the main drag in Mumbai at rush hour.

Wishing you a moovalous weekend!

Life...

It really isn't right! I'm ashamed; a blog left lurking around for over a month without so much as a 'hoezit'. It's just not cricket...

Like all things my fault I will now go about blaming someone or something else, scapegoat time... this time I blame life, it just seems to have gotten in the way of quality blog time.

A while back life began to take a small change in direction, so this month apart shouldn't be too much of a surprise, it has been a year in coming.

This is life!

Ribbit

Hunting season is over but don't fret, frog season has just kicked off! Yes just as winter seems to be arriving, finally... My theory is that the little guys voluntarily get out the lake and march up to the restaurant so that they can go to a warmer place. Besides, they know that they will live on in the cholesterol of the lucky diner. So my first brush with the jumpy end of a frog... and bring on the cholesterol, cause they are very yummy! No, they don't taste like chicken, they taste like frog's legs. Well, now that I think about it, maybe the frozen ones in Paris would taste like chicken. I was lucky enough to get the freshest kind, only a few hops from the lake in the Haute Jura.

Last legs standing...


















The three steps of gastronomic evolution of the frog...
















A fitting end to a wonderful night out, one of the more beautiful drives 'home' in a long time...

















The driveway... the Jura had just received a good coating of the white stuff, so in the interests of battling the cholesterol and to see if springy frogs legs lead to springy human legs...

















A bit of cross country skiing was in order in the Lajoux valley. Such a beautiful blue sky day!!!

















A perfect weekend of taking on and combating the evil that is decadence deep fried in butter, the perfect balance... Maybe the frogs don't think so...

Sunday exploration...

Just when I was nasty about our lack of blue skies... voilà! A sparkly blue Sunday, time to explore...



Music by Olivia Ruiz off her album La Femme Chocolat

City of light

It seems a little clichéd to to show pictures of Paris, it must reflect the most capture photons in the world, what with the 70 million odd camera wielding tourists that stroll its streets annually. Nevertheless one can't help but be overwhelmed by the beauty that surrounds one. Well, there must be a reason why the tourists flock here, it sure as hell ain't the blue winter sky... (and customs wouldn't let you take the cheese home). So, even if you have seen these many times in adverts, movies, postcards or been lucky enough to be one of the 70 mega, here are a few of my own in the city of light...

An evening stroll... no, I wasn't on the Da Vinci code tour... apparently everyone is now taking photos under the pyramid in the Louvre, a previously cool spot, but not that photogenic. How fickle is man?

Hope I never get blasé...

Full-time wekk

I am pleased to let you know I have full time work, not that difficult to find... My new title is... well, not sure I have a title, but I am the hired help for a beautiful Persian princess. Occasionally she allows me the feeling of hob nobbing with royalty, but mostly I know my place as a lesser mortal. Duties include seeing to the drinking water and, what I must admit to as a pleasure, giving massages... life isn't too schabby!

Getting the drip rate equal to the lick rate isn't as easy as it looks... and I'll be darned if I can find the button to change the lick rate...

















This means rub my tummy... or even better bury head in tummy (if you don't mind coughing up fur balls that is)

















How to look down on someone from below them...

So that's Princess, the 'little one' in the house. Yet more proof that cats have staff instead of owners. Now that I have work it motivates me to find employment rather.

Wishing you fuzz therapy...

Cheeses

Been a month of Francing, filled with experiences much the same as one would find anywhere in the world, but somehow different... the wines are a little bit more special, the Christmas dinner self retrieved from the forest, oh and cheeses... lots of cheeses. Its not all high-end different though, the humble baguette has eased it way into an important part of my day, and on the really low end, so has pavement scanning, pleased to report a whitewash result against the dog doo thus far...

A month of overindulgence what with 'welcome to France' excuses and then the silly season, at times I have felt a little like the day would arrive when I would get sold to a white aproned butcher type for my liver. In retrospect a noble way to go, the festive season has deepened the friendship I have with foie gras, some things about French culture should not be messed with.

As for new experiences, it was my first almost white Christmas in the Jura. Much to the disappointment of the proud owners of pre-booked ski packages, the weather is unseasonably dry and warm, so only -5 °C'ish and mainly blue skies. Didn't stop the ice though, a pleasure to be above the fog that seemed to grey the rest of France.

Being from Africa you can normally lead the civilised world along with the stories of wild animals that stroll our streets, so strange to come to one of the more developed countries in the world to have my first encounter with wild boar, admittedly encountered for Christmas dinner. Another slightly less wild animal that I regularly encounter is one of the adopted kids that rule the house.

Meet Pacha, one of the kids, must have been a hard night, although difficult to tell with cats.

Just before Christmas we took a trip to Avilley, a small village near Vesoul. France seems to be the chaotic mass of humanity called Paris and then zillions of little villages that still lurk in times gone by.
















A view of Avilley in the winter light.

And when in a village it seems like you try to keep the wild boar in check by getting out of the house with your dog. The French equivalent of fishing. Perhaps it has nothing to do with actually shooting boar.
















I tagged along on a day of hunting, down from the mountain into the fog. Seemed like fishing really, only occasionally did the animals seem important, guys bonded, ate, drank and then headed home in the evening. Well, a duck did see his demise, three quick wild boars scuttled to safety across a field and there was this very confused chevreuil who couldn't understand why three orange jacketed guys just let him run on by... guess he didn't read the quota sheet. He will tell that escape story to his grandbambies for many years to come.





















A good thing about fishing is getting out into the fresh air and are able to just take in the trees while you wait for the next boar to bite.
















Petite Chatel a little village in the Jura, beautiful winter blue skies, don't let that fool you to thinking it was warm.






















I guess if you chose a thing to symbolise France it would have to include a church, all types... but I like the old stone ones.
















Christmas day with the frost on the lawn and trees, it didn't often get above zero... luckily Santa's reindeer are used to landing in the ice.
















The Jura mountains usually skiable by this time of year had only a smattering of snow. Walking up the road from the wedding reception spot.
















Ice skating in the arvies on a lake near the town of La Moura, this becomes a cross country ski piste once the snow gets into full swing.
















New years, loved one, bubbly and the Eiffel tower - pretty cool.

Wishing all the best for 2007, trust you will make it a wicked year!

Chile to chilly

As Raul reminded me the other day, there is nothing much sadder than an out of date blog. It has been ages, and as usual, quiet blog times mean less than quiet real times, the past month has been quite busy.

Since the last bout of blogging, and my farewell to the hills, I have traded summer for winter, new for old and Spanish for French. So, I am afraid the days of mountain on the doorstep photies are over, no more commentary on the gringo life in Santiago, the good news is I will be able to share photies of my new home, Paris, and will do my bit to let you know what being a 'gringo' in France is all about.

It has been a month that needs more than a blog entry to get you up to date, so easier if the photos tell the tale...

Bye bye Santiago, an especially beautiful day that turned up to say cheers.

















You have to get to see them at some stage, magic mountains!

















BBrrrrrrr
















Argentina in the distance, miles and miles of patchwork farms.
















The fairest cape of them all, the one of good hope...
















The reward for a little pedalling.
















Llandudno beach
















Camps bay beach





















Anandale strawberry farm, outside Stellenbosch.
















Night time from Pont Neuf
















Christmas = more lights in the city of lights






















Looking towards Place Vendome from the Opera.

I will miss Chile, my good friends there and of course the beautiful scenery, but there are some things in life that you just have to do, what a pleasure. I look forward to sharing my new adventures.