En déplacement...

Oops, I did it again, and all the other comments about how long it's been since I've broadcast updates of my life on the Internet. In my defence, it has been quite a busy 2 months, which is good news, because think of all the stories! I'll kick it off with the latest, being that I've moved cities. Au revoir et à bientôt (probably not) to Bordeaux, and Bonjour, je t'aime to a little known town that goes by the name of Paris. It won't come as a shock to anyone that I bloody love this place. I'm pretty sure anyone who's ever had a conversation with me that progresses past the, "Hi, I'm Sarah" stage would have been witness (victim?) to my singing of praises for the city of lights. 

And so with this love in my heart, I made the decision to transport my belongings, once more, across the country, and try my luck. For reasons unknown to me (namely the longest river in Egypt) I was not too concerned about my lack of housing/employment/friends in this city that was to become my home. I guess my reasoning for all of this was that I already feel quite comfortable here, and figured my love of cake and one particular tower would get me through. Why get bogged down in the practicalities of having a bed to sleep in, or income to provide food?! 

So I arrived in Paris on the 2nd of January with the fam as support where I started looking for the above mentioned basic needs. Ahh Maslow, how relevant you are. I was aware that the house hunt in Paris is ruthless, and that tiny, squalid apartments often had hundreds of applications, and cost a small fortune, but for some reason I didn't think this would be a problem. I'd managed to find a way in the past! I'd do it again! And it was through this strange kind of naive determination that I stumbled across an ad for a girl wanting to sublet her studio for 3 weeks. And guess what? She offered her place to me! At this point, I had reached the point where I was seriously  planning my trip back to Australia, because in a practical sense, it is very difficult to live in a city if you don't actually have somewhere to live...I was also sending out about 20 enquiries a day for studios and rooms in Paris, and was having a very limited success rate given that my visa only has a few months left, and thus would not be paying rent for anymore than 4 months, plus there were all those other pesky house hunters too.

Cheeky window view

But you know what? The opportunity of staying for another three weeks bought not only somewhere to sleep and store belongings, but also time to continue my search for a more permanent place to stay. Plus I also had one of those moments when I thought, "you know what, this is meant to be. I've been given this chance to keep hunting, and so I'm meant to do this." Which is quite ridiculous really, given that I didn't just bump into someone on the street offering me a place, I'd had to put up a fight to find somewhere, but sometimes (more like on a weekly basis if I'm honest) I like to think that fate has stepped in, and helped me along my way. And d'you know what happened? I found a place to stay until May! In my favourite arrondissement in Paris (the 6th) with a view of the Eiffel Tower, handy dandy access to the métro (Sèvres-Babylone for anyone who cares) and the ultimate food hall, La Grande  Epicerie, and my favourite feature, (besides the view) an actual bed! After months of living in bunks at hostels, and "clic clac" fold out beds, to find a place with an actual mattress, in an actual bed frame, was enough for me to almost cry with joy. So! I moved in last week, and life is looking up! All these little puzzle pieces are joining up. The next piece is obviously a job, but fingers crossed, that could be finalised in the next few days. 

More to come soon. (Hopefully).

Bises,

Sarah

Sneaking in a rambling post for November

While I should have been handed an eviction notice from the internet police for abandoning this blog, it lives on mes amis! I must apologise to the handful of you who actually have some interest in my life- I've been waiting for some big news stories to hit so I could wow you with my spectacular life. Alas I am still waiting to save that run away pram, and find an abandoned winning lottery ticket on the street. So instead of these heart racing, perspire inducing thrillers, here are my everyday life experiences comme je vis à Bordeaux. (Although an apartment did burn down over the weekend, so that's something?) 

My self esteem has taken a beating lately as the cooler months have crept up, as I'm assaulted daily by seeing les enfants dressed infinitely better than I could ever dream of. I found myself walking behind a small boy and his mother on the weekend when I noticed that this 5 year old was just casually wearing a Burberry kids coat. No biggie. Not to mention the little girls who I see playing in the jardin publique who appear to have been styled by winter angels. (Actually just their super stylish mothers). Honestly, if I could wear a scarf as well as a 4 year old french fille, I would be thrilled.

I call this, "Autumn in the garden." 

To counter this daily soul crushing, wine must be consumed! A few chip Friday's ago, I went to a wine bar in town with mes amis australiens called "Aux Quatre Coins du Vin." It was cool, you guys! I know I'm going to make a terrible mess of explaining it all, but bear with me. Patrons are given a credit card with a chip, which is loaded up with an allocated amount of credit. We started with €30. Then you take your wine glass and the card and pop the card into a slot above the selection of wine bottles before you. Then comes the decision concerning wine quantity. A taster, half glass, or full glass. Then the cost of your glass is deducted from your card and you retournez to the table and enjoy your wine and order a delicious charcuterie plate. The prices for all of the wines are displayed above the bottles, so you can play a fun game of "do we use up all of our credit on a €19 glass of wine?" It was a really cool way of trying lots of different wines without having to commit. Perfect for anyone who struggles with decisions or has minimal wine knowledge ie. Me. 

This the road where my laundromat is!
You can see the white, blue and red sign on the left (if you squint a little).

And now time for Sarah's book club! I recently read "Us" by David Nicholls. I pretty much only chose this because I love, love, loved "One Day." Unfortunately I didn't have the same experience with Us. I mean, it was nice enough, but I wish I had borrowed it from a library instead of buying it, you know. Harsh but true. I did like the little tour of Europe that featured, but I got a bit bored, generally, and just wanted it to finish. Awkward. Read it if you're living in a foreign country and need the comfort of your mother language.

I also downloaded Lena Dunham's biography. Easy reading while I waited at the laundromat, but I can hardly remember any of the anecdotes, so it obviously didn't change my life at all. 

Taking a slightly different turn, although not entirely unrelated to books, I went and saw the latest instalment of The Hunger Games. It was everything I imagined it to be. Citizens of the districts being murdered. J. Law being pissed off that citizens are being murdered. Fight scenes. Special effects. A Hemsworth. Me laughing at the way J.Law says "Pee-dah." An unresolved ending. Yeah. It was solid. 

A building. 

Back to more important matters! French markets! Ahh what glorious places. Les marchés have reminded me of what "seasonal produce" actually means. While I was devastated when stone fruit started slowly disappearing, I was excited to see what would take it's place when autumn rolled around. And it was my excitement of bountiful fruit and pressure purchasing which lead me to "accidentally" buy 2kg of mandarins the other weekend. "Two kilos," you say, "that's not too bad!" Oh, dear friend, picture this- one ordinary plastic bag. Full. Of a fruit that I ordinarily refuse to eat. Yes, I was charmed by the fruit lady, who encouraged me to try the sample, and then I thought to myself, "that wasn't too bad!" She then informed me that I could purchase 2kg for a mere €4! What a bargain! And it was fruit! That's a healthy choice! Better than 2kg of butter! (But is it?!) A mere 2 weeks later, and I had finished my fruit bowl full of what I believe to be the most tedious fruit in the world. However I did somewhat enjoy these , so perhaps I've been converted. 

A posy from the market.

As the weather grows cooler, and I become increasingly nervous about living through a full length french winter, we also approach the most wonderful time of the year. This year I haven't had the advantage of observing when the bloom of the jacaranda tree is here to signal when Christmas might be near, but instead I have watched as Bordeaux slowly, slowly erected lights and trees throughout the city. Including a Christmas market! And a giant Christmas tree in front of the cathedral! And window displays! And lights everywhere! It's all very exciting. I shall let you all know how the market is. (And I promise it won't take me a month).

Much love to you all as we approach my most beloved time of year. Bises xxxx

Trains are never early...

Hola amigos!

So I finally did something that I've been meaning to do since moving, and no it's not develop a comprehensive list of desserts that can be prepared sans oven- that's still in development- I made a short trip down to San Sebastián! It takes less time to get to Spain than it does to Paris from Bordeaux, and so it only made sense for me to go when I had some time off. And so with my backpack packed and on my back, I boarded the train, destination Hendaye with a gaggle of excited 50 plussers. No word of a lie, there were about 20 parental aged travellers shouting to each other through the carriage and making jokes for the first hour of the trip. Crying babies, I'll take you any day. After a particularly delightful train nap, I descended at Hendaye and swiftly remembered that I do not speak Spanish. Hendaye is on the very border of France and Spain, and while technically a french speaking location, I was required to purchase my regional ticket to San Seb in español. More like espanlol. 40 minutes later I had arrived at my destination and so I made my way to the "Surfing Etxea" hostel. I know I'm reaching my limits for hostel stints, but sometimes if you cross your fingers and toes you manage to find a place that doesn't make you want to stab 19 year olds with the communal cutlery. This was one of those places.

Do love a marina pic.

While it was located on the "new town" side of the river (yikes, wrong side of the river) it was close to the surfing beach which is always nice for walks and surfer perving, and the other people who were staying there were so lovely. It's basically a guys house that he's converted into a hostel, so it feels nice and homey, plus it was also really clean. Would recommend. But onto the more important things! Food!

The devicive bridge. Fondly renamed, "Golf Ball Bridge."

I had pretty much planned to spend my time away eating pintxos and drinking sangria for 2 solid days, and I did not disappoint myself. On the first night we headed out to some pintxos bars (tapas that is laid out on bars for customers to select as they fancy) to give the local fare a go. To someone who has seen the movie "Mermaids" and grown up with the soundtrack providing the tunes to a childhood, the idea of eating what is essentially finger food for dinner is right up my alley. I think the idea is just to have 1 or 2 items and then move on to another bar, (or probably eat a proper meal) but given my issues with decision making, I would usually end up with 4 or 5 morsels on my plate. The first night we just kind of floated around to wherever was open (Monday nights are not such a happening thing at the end of the tourist season it would seem) but on the second night, I was prepared with a list, and so with my new buddies in tow, we hit the streets to do what I do best; eat.

The food's so good you'll have to pintxo-self.

I had a delicious scallop gratin at the first bar we went to, and then a not so inspiring anchovy combo at the next stop, but this was all just a lead up to the most amazing tapas experience ever at Zeruko. This place was seriously cool. I know that I'm easily influenced by a bit of food bling, but they had gold dust on artichoke hearts! Golden hearts! Filled with more delicious scallopy goodness. In hindsight, I did chose savoury items that all looked like desserts, but hey, I know what I like. Another notable item was the pistachio crumbed blood sausage served with raspberry sauce. Too pretty not to enjoy! After all of the deliciousness, we went to a bar famous for it's cheesecake. Someone had told us a story of a woman crying with joy when she tried this cheesecake. Sceptical as I was, inward we journeyed to try this tear inducing cake. I have to say, I was initially impressed that they had 14 tins of cheesecake waiting to be served. It was like looking into my future as a mother who has nailed dinner food prep for the week. I jest, cheesecake is a weekend dinner food. Verdict: I love cheesecake, so it was good, but I did not shed a tear, my desire to bake my own chocolate cheesecake merely grew stronger. So, so content with all this food!

Bling food!

Not so blingy, but just as delicious.

Cheesecaaaaaake!

In other activities (as if eating isn't enough) I also climbed the hill to visit the Jesus statue, and shopped at Zara. A larger range and lower prices! Thanks Spain! Plus general wandering and church sightings were thrown in for good measure.

View from Jesus Hill.

Plaza de la Constitución

And as if this is all sounding just too good to be true, it is. I had decided to take a late train home to Bordeaux, one which just happened to be the final train for the day out of Hendaye. And guess what I managed to do? I got on the wrong train. So I journeyed 4km south to Irun, the Spanish border town, and got stuck. Having realised that I was in a regional Spanish town at dusk, there may have been a few quick tears (where was the cheesecake?!) and I stress ate 2 twix bars from a vending machine. Alas back to San Sebastián I travelled to meet yet more Australians at the hostel, and I ventured back to Bordeaux the next day. What a relief it was to finally be home! Never had I felt such joy at seeing the giant puddle of water at Place de la Bourse, commonly known as the "Miroir d'Eau."

You probably think this flavour's about you.

And so ends my adventure to San Sebastián, land of deliciousness. Go and eat there, it was fabulous!

Heat Wave

A terrible thing happened today. Something that I hoped I would never have to experience. One of those scenarios that you hear about happening to other people, and you just think, "Oh, that'll never happen to me!"

Today I spent the whole day whinging about it being "Soooooooo hottttttt, I'm sweatingggggg, aghhhh why is it so hotttttt?" The forecast for today was a maximum of 29C.

Having lived through one of the hottest summer days on record in Adelaide but a few months ago, when I had to endure working in an un-airconditioned kitchen while old mate Satan himself sent fireballs through the streets to produce 45C weather, today marked a terrifying transition into what I can now refer to as having a completely lame ass internal thermostat. I now live in fear for my return to Australian summer, given that temperatures higher than 25C now cause me to break out not only sandals, but also a sweat.

France, you may have weakened my heat resistance, but you cannot break my spirits.

Soooooo hottttttttttt.

"What are you up to on your days off?" "PARIS!"

Ahh the European lifestyle. Jetting off to a new location every weekend. Visiting Vienna on a whim, sojourning in Stockholm because you so fancied, and popping off to Paris because your cousin sent you a message one night asking if you were free to catch up, and you said "YOLO! See you on Tuesday cuz!" It's a hilarious misconception that living abroad equates to holidays every second weekend, but I finally managed to take a spontaneous trip this week to my favourite place to see some special peeps.

I arrived in Paris on Tuesday and was grinning from ear to ear as the train pulled into the Montparnasse station and I caught a glimpse of Eiffey. It has been said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and gee was I in the mood for Paris. I had to stop myself from gleefully skipping down Rue Rivoli after I checked into my fave hostel (where I was weirdly allocated the same room as my last visit 2 months ago) because I was just so happy to be back. Sorry to sound like a gushy teenager, but my word Paris was so beautiful. The early autumn light was working it's magic on the buildings and the sky was clear and blue. Plus the leaves have started to turn so it was just a little bit pretty.

I love Paris in the spring time, I love Paris in the fall...

I made the necessary pilgrimage to the local boulangerie to have cake for lunch, and then really mixed things up by visiting the Mémorial de la Shoah, a holocaust memorial for all of the French Jews who were murdered. I noticed this memorial the last time I was around the Marais and I was interested to visit because it seemed like an appropriate site to visit given the history of Jewish people in the area, and the deportation of French families from their homes during WWII. I don't even know how to explain the gravity of the experience. Perhaps I will just leave the comment of it being a very powerful collection and reminder of the devastating crime committed against an innocent population.

A section of one of the walls showing the children
who were killed in concentration camps.

Next I met Amelia and Dimi outside Ladurée on the Champs Élysées. Hugs and excitement and chatter! We wandered down to Notre Dame (deceptively further than anticipated) and had a drink overlooking Île Saint-Louis. Because we were close(ish) I took the lovebirds to my fave falafel haunt, because nothing screams french fare more than ground chickpeas am I right?! Plus I still had a food promise to fulfill from August. They were delicious as usual, and I was a happy chappy. After a little roam around the area, Dimi and I had crêpes for dessert, because overeating is what I do best, and Dimi was happy to join me. I had Nutella, banana and coconut and it was great. We parted our separate ways, and I was reminded that the internet situation at the hostel left a little to be desired, so I took my internet compatible devices to the local Starbucks only to discover that it closes at 8pm! Which seems ridiculous! Obviously the demand for overpriced, American chain beverages wanes after dark. But come on! The free wifi potential!

Just a couple of cousins having drinks in Paris

This is my excited falafel face.

Never happier than when I'm about to eat.

On Wednesday, I met Amelia for some market perusing. Not an easy feat, with mid-week marchés not being particularly popular. We eventually found one that was open, "La marché des enfants rouges" which was smaller than I had anticipated, and also not quite as interesting as the internet had promised, so we journeyed to Galeries Lafeyettes so we could be proper shoppers. We went up to the terrace of the building, which I'd never done before, to get a rooftop view. My professional opinion leads to me say that the panoramic view from the top of Printemps is superior. Just saying. We met up with Dimi so he and Amelia could journey up to Montmarrte, and so I said "Au revoir et bon voyage", and I ventured to the Apple store so I could charge my phone and use their internet. Thanks Apple! Had a good old chat with my Mum and Dad, because it was an opportune moment.

Ugh, be less photogenic next time, Paris. Ile de Saint-Louis.

Next was an unsuccessful boot and coat hunt, and I felt like a pauper because I couldn't justify €450 on a beautiful coat, I mean it was on sale from €650, so I would have saved money...but I probably couldn't pay this month's rent with such ease. It's a hard knock life you guys. Now here's the joke for the post, I bought some gym pants. Haaaaaaa! I thought I'd better get some full length pants for winter, with the idea that I can exercise when it's colder. Man I do some weird shit when I'm hungry! I found a Prêt at the Lafeyette food hall, so I had a delicious sandwich and a green juice on the steps of the Opéra Garnier. Just call me Blair.

It's Wednesday, I'm in love. They're the lyrics, right?

Time to head back to my hood and buy some tea from Mariage Frères, because my stock levels needed replenishing, and Paris Breakfast makes me happy. Then it was just about time to head for the train, so I got back on my beloved metro and onto the TGV bound for Bordeaux. I was a bit sad to be leaving Paris, which I'm taking as a positive sign that I need to return for an extended period of time. Definitely feeling the need to move after Christmas, so will get my organising hat on and make it happen, yo.

And so ends my tale of a midweek soul revival trip. If you ever feel sad, just go to Paris. Easy.

xxx

I don't believe in Peter Pan, Frankenstein or Superman, all I wanna do is...

Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!

NB This is not my bike. Nor my image. It belongs

to Google.  But just imagine if it were mine! Ooh la la!

If I wasn't currently in possession of a vélo, there would be so many experiences I would never have had the pleasure of knowing. Bordeaux is ridiculously bike friendly, and so it made sense for me to acquire a set of wheels to get around in this flat, bike lane riddled city.

Let's start with a general daily experience to which I can only really attribute to bike riding- arriving anywhere already sweaty and in need of a shower.  Such is the joy of using an exercise method as your primary form of transport. Never before have I had to carry deodorant and perfume with me at all times. Quel grand plaisir!

More recently I have also had the pleasure of being propositioned on my journey home from work after midnight on a Sunday night (morning?). Might I preface this exchange by saying that I looked a right treat- I'd just completed a 13.5 hour split shift day in a sweaty kitchen, and I was wearing not a scrap of makeup nor eagerness to converse with fellow cyclistes. As I turned the first corner onto a main road to start my swift ride home, I noticed a young fellow ride past me and cast his gaze upon my person. He took this opportunity to comment on the lack of traffic at this time. No shit Sherlock, normal people are at home. Feeling confident after his successful icebreaker he proceeded to observe that we were both travelling in the same direction. Wowsers! What a coincidence on a one way road! I took this break in conversation to slow down so that Casanova could pass me and continue on his way. Alas he only took this as a sign that I wanted to slow down to persue a conversation as he too slowed down so we could travel together. Now for my favourite line of our exchange, "So are you coming home with me?" Smooth operator! Thankfully, my swift response ended our meaningful conversation, and he pedalled on.

As I rode home from my first shift on Sunday, I made a detour via the markets to participate once more in "Smoothie Sunday." Get on board! Currently there is one person I know of who participates in this ritual. She's pretty great. And very attractive. And hilarious. I think she also donates a lot of her spare time and money to charities. Haaaaa! I'm joking! It's me! And I have literally no spare time or money seeing as I work approximately 500 hours a week for less than the legal minimum wage. Anyway. I digress. As I rode home on Sunday, slightly delirious from lack of sleep and solid food, something peculiar occurred. All of a sudden, my bike made very unhealthy sounds when I pedalled and I was no longer travelling forward. The chain had come off! Woohoooo! Time to put all of my bike mechanic skills to use! Oh my goodness you guys, bikes are filthy! At least I was only wearing white shorts and a black and white tee shirt. Nothing to worry about re grease marks staining clothes. However because I am a graceful and skilled goddess, I actually managed to realign the rascal onto the...cog...spinner...wheel...spikey round...thing... Whatever! I got home, and I'm pretty sure the bike is still okay...plus my clothes remained as pristine as before the incident. #lyfskillz

My latest thrilling escapade was carrying two rather large bags of shopping home balanced on the handles. Once more, I'm sure the people of Bordeaux enjoyed the spectacle of Sarah's daily life. My favourite part was when one of the handles of a bag fell off of the handle, and I had to lunge at the eggs to make sure they didn't fall onto the road. I'd paid €2.02 for free range, I wasn't going to disrespect those poor hens!

Finally, the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair as I speed through the rues is one that I have come to appreciate. Helmets aren't enforced, so I needn't ever fret about helmet hair (only excessive sweating) which makes riding so much more accessible. Who knows, I might even ride when I get back to Adelaide. Ha! We'll see.

I hope you're all enjoying access to your cars, and have a good week!

Lots of love from your favourite wanna-be French bicycle bandit xxx

Life hacks!

Eat cheese, drink wine and listen to some sweet tunes to remind yourself that life is okay, and you too are okay. Dancing is optional, but advised.

Bonus life tip: cook your quinoa in stock (or add a stock cube if you're going for the authentic "Sarah in France" experience) to make it taste delicious. What a little salt and artificial flavour can't do!