It all kicks off (The Summer of Food, that is)

The Thursday before last, the first official event of The Summer of food ^{(tm reg)} started, so it was only fitting that the weather was about 19C, cloudy and showering for the vast majority of it. Damien, Paul and I met at London’s Waterloo International (soon to be replaced by St Pancras International) to catch the 20:15 Eurosta to Paris. In ‘leisure select’ class, no less. Having travelling by business class recently, the only differences between the two iare the name, the dulcet tones of American tourists (’Hey! Where are you from? We’re from Missouri!!’) and a much higher proportion of manmade fibre.

I love the Eurostar. It eliminates the long trip to the airport, the waiting around and the buying of aftershave you don’t particularly need. The trip itself is so much more civilised, and you don't get off at the other end feeling everything you’ve drunk in the last week is being sucked out of your pores by the airconditioning.

By the time we had finished out complimentary champagne(!), we were speeding towards Paris. The section of track from Waterloo to somewhere in the middle of Kent is so embarrassingly slow though. It’s the European rail equivalent of training wheels. That will all change when the high speed line is finished in a few months. (And it’s only taken 13 years to build). Call me a socialist if you like, but I’m a great believer in government investment in infrastructure, and don’t see why lower taxes for for high-income earners or for private equity funds in the city (5% they pay!!) should be a priority, while a worthwhile project like this takes years to complete.

So we were in Paris by 11pm, and in our rented Marais apartment by 11:30. And out for a drink by 12:30. (Someone wanted to unpack). What’s not to like about that?



Friday morning I went on the croissant and pain au chocolate run while the two sleeping beauties lay in bed. After the coffee, orange juice and pastries, we were off to the Hotel Balzac. For a very long lunch at the 3 Michelin-starred Pierre Gagniare. I am not quite sure what makes a 3-star restaurant, but the service was exemplary and the food was excellent. We had (amongst other things) the most gorgeous bottle of burgundy. Burgundy is the new Jacob’s Creek. You read it here first. We were slightly worried about the fate of the waitress who poured some red into Damien’s white wine glass. We didn’t lay eyes on her after that and we think she may have been guillotined.



The rest of our time was spent wandering around the Marais. Most of my time was spent watching Paul and Damien shop. I also spent a great deal of my time making coffee and buying pastries for breakfast. But I’m not bitter at all. I quite enjoyed going out and trying to find a better boulangerie every day. Paris is so beautiful that just walking around is pleasure enough.



Our apartment was a little 'Moulin Rougue'-esque garret in the the Marais - it was up six flights of stairs (125 of them!). And did we know it a couple of times. But it did have a lovely terrace with views over to Montmatre in one direction and the Pompidou Centre in the other. It also had quite detailed instructions on everything, even down to expected toilet etiquette. I kid you not. And I thought my boyfriend was anal.



Saturday we met up with some French boys we know for dinner and then a bit of a dance – as you do. It was fun. So much fun that we met them again on Sunday night for something to eat and a walk around Pigalle, where we were abused in French for being gay. Nice.



Monday morning there was just enought time to fit in another lunch, this time of fillet steaka nd sauteed potatoes for us all, washed down witha 7-y-o bottle of St Emilion. The Bordeaux cost what we'd normally pay for a bottle of plonk in London. So unfair!

Beautifully Provincial.

I am currently in Strasbourg for work. Again. I really like Strasbourg. Work not so much. This time I had to fly into Frankfurt. I don’t have much to say about Frankfurt. The plane was half empty on the way over, which perhaps is an indication of why I don’t have much to say about Frankfurt.

Instead of getting the plane back and spending all that time waiting around in airports, I've decided to get the train back. Carbon footprint and all that. I’m catching the TGV from Strasbourg to Paris, not just any TGV, but the fastest train on the planet (cue argument about which train is fastest). I am excited. I think that officially makes me a nerd. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t make me a train spotter unless I write down the number of the train. I am also going business on Eurostar (cheaper to London than the airfare), so my boss is sortof happy too.

This is the first time I’ve been here in the summer and it’s very beautiful – lots of forests, and motorways. The motorways aren’t beautiful, but they are through the forest and the forests certainly are. I saw a deer gambolling through the fields on the way from Frankfurt to Strasbourg, too. I was hoping to eat venison for dinner, but had to make do with a healthy salad of foie gras, smoked cured duck, and ham.

I saw one of those brown tourist route signs for the Maginot Line on the way here. I wasn’t sure if it was part of a larger tourist route for great defence failures of the past 100 years or not, but I suppose it’s certainly one way of taking a negative and turning it into a positive.

Saturday I had to rise at the ungodly hour or 4:50am (that was 3:50 by my poor UK body clock) and be at work by 6:00am. I was back in Strasbourg by 15:00, but absolutely knackered. I even had a nap to compensate. I went out to have a good look around and do some shopping, but my heart wasn’t really in it. Today was a lot better, but the whole conversion process was running late, so our project lunch was cancelled. The upside of that wasn’t all that bad, was I didn’t have to spend an afternoon with techies with no personality. It's about as appealling as having your teeth pulled without anesthetic.

Last night I got to eat with a colleague form our client company. He’s quite good fun, but I feel I have to be a bit guarded around him, so it wasn’t a lot of fun for me. And we hadn’t booked anywhere, so we had to settle for an ok restaurant, which just about killed me. My steak was fine, but the frites and vegetables weren’t great. Sigh. And there is great food here, it seemed like such a missed opportunity.

Anyway, today I got to lie in the sun, which was pleasant. I had a conversation in pidgin French with the nice baguette lady at lunchtime (‘Tu American?’ ‘Je suis Australien’ ‘ D’accord. Much better’ – ouch!), it turned out she was from the town where our factory is, so she was on for a chat. Somehow she spotted my weak spot and got me to buy an éclair as well, but I wouldn’t buy a Tarte au fruit rouge.

I was turned away from the Cathedral today too, as they were ordaining priests, and I think they thought the boys might reconsider their vows or something if I went in. (Actually they had bouncers and no-one who wasn’t wearing a suit wasn’t getting in).

I called into what I thought was the new Gare (railway station) for the TGV. In fact it’s just a new façade for the old staion, but underneath the station has been redone as well. It’s quite beautiful and a lovely piece of contemporary architecture.


Of course Strasbourg is all about Europe as well, and I was glad to see there was some room left for expansion here, all that's required is to remove the European flags, and add the new members.



Strasbourg is all very nice, but I have been a bit bored. Friday night at the restaurant I ate at, the guy on the next table was Australian. He was phoning a friend and telling them he had had enough of Strasbourg. I though he was crazy, but after 3 day here, I feel a bit the same, it’s very beautiful, but it’s quite small and provincial, nothing seems to be going on. Maybe I just expect too much?

The Cathedral is amazing though. It absolutely dominates the city and you can see why medieveal peasants would have been astounded by it. I think sometimes we've lost the ability to be astounded.

Their cunning knows no limits.

Monday night we met my family and went for quick curry (and a few pints!) in the heart of Banglatown, Brick Lane. Yes, yes, it's not the most authentic Indian experience in London, but it's close to Mile End (where my family are staying), so that's where we went.



Tom took this photo - not only can he talk the hind leg of a donkey - he also has a good eye for a 2 year old.





Ang and Div glamourously sped to Paris via the Eurostar yesterday, for some europleasure. They are staying at the Hotel les degres de Notre Dame (one of a select few to make it into Paul and my 'Affordable Charming Hotels in European Capitals' book, coming to a bookshop near you soon) and their room has a view of Notre Dame. No wonder they were going to bed early last night...

I love the Eurostar - I wish it went everywhere. I tried to go to Strasbourg when I had to go there for work, but it was going to take 10 hours. Now that the TGV from Paris to Strasbourg is running, I might see how I get on next time. Must reduce carbon footprint and save planet etc.

Last night I went over to see Tomas and Mia before they went to bed. I got to read Winnie the Pooh!! Another dream realised before I turn 40. Mia rubbed her cheek when I kissed her goodnight. 'Ow' said Tomas, when I kissed him goodnight. I know it's a cunning plan on their part to make me shave off my beard.