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