Do you want to go to the seaside?

The waves lapped against my feet as I looked longingly out onto the horizon. I can’t explain the feeling I get when I go to the seaside, but it just feels my heart with happiness. I love the way the wind floats you in different directions, and your feet become entwined in Seaweed and your feet squelch into the sand as you walk along it. For most people these things are perplexing but it just makes me smile, I feel free.

I was caught singing this song, a few days before maybe it inspired are little voyage. 

I was at the very north of France, at Le Crotoy the horizon stretched for miles, I was so close to home, the ‘manche’ or channel as it is known in england, was all that separated me. We walked along the beach, collecting shells, splashing the water as we went. It was not crowded or over run with tourists but it was simplistically pleasant.  The season was coming to a close, and we were following the last drips and drabs or people that wanted to enjoy the few last days of summer.

We collected shells, and made sand castles, which would just fall back down as the sand was too wet. Then we would run back and forth into the sea, with screams of exhilaration as the crisp water, touched are skin.
 After this we drove up the coast line, and past the , and Réserve Naturelle de la Baie de Somme (Nature reserve)  and saw wild animals grazing freely over the feeds. This part of Picardie was different, the houses had unusual architecture and were painted bright shades of pinks and blue, it was fun and amusing, because it looked so out of place, next to the pine trees. I loved the beach huts that lined the edge of the beach, which families would sit outside and commence there aperitif.

We past a new eco village, a new in ‘mode’ (fashion) word in France, people seem to embrace the need to live an ecological existence, and take care of their country, and what a beautiful country this seems to be.

We ended the day with mussels et frites, on the seafront, and ‘chi-chi’s’ of course.

I live for day’s like this.

Adios.

Nattie x 

'I was living for enchanting moments like this.'

This summer became a free-spirited jolly adventure, Cycling as the sun set over the horizon, wind pressing lightly against my face. Passing through ornate french villages, and living, for enchanting moments like this.

I spent my summer, with no restrictions, I would arise to start my day, organize the children I am au pairing for. Plan my fanciful adventures one day at time, this meant discover new things, new memories, myself. I truly felt I was living in the moment. Mingling, with people over an aperitif or two (or three...) and meeting genuinely interesting people.

Each day was the start of something new, picnic’s next to the lake, tent’s in the garden, wild flower walks, feeding the horses, for sometimes the simple things make you the happiest. What about them, rainy days you ask? For northern france, is not the south and those rainy summers are as likely as Sunshine, but listening to the rain, piter patter against the window, reminding me of home, of England , and I was all to used to this.  And sometimes when it rain’s you just have to run.

So ran I did, for the next train to Paris, for the weekend! 

C'est La Vie. 

Au revoir.

Nattie x 

The diary of a British girl, learning french!

In French they don’t ‘I miss you’ they say ‘Tu me manques’, you are missing from me.
                                                                                 Its kind of beautifull.

Salut le Monde!

I am writing this post from the blustery north of France, in a little village in the Aisne part of Picardie. Picardie being the province, a small understated part of France. In my previous post I told you briefly about my month in England, the main reason I decided to move to France was to improve on my language skills, something which I will talk more about later on. Firstly why Picardie, I was searching for job opportunities all over France, and in fact I was offered a Job in Saint Tropez, (Yes all scream, Saint Tropez) but shockingly enough, I turned it down. The job involved living with an English family, and I would be able to earn money and create a working holiday, meaning sit by the pool and have a few glasses of wine on my break. As nice as that sounds (and believe me, during these rainy days here in Picar... I dream of the sun) I knew I would never picked up French. So nevertheless, I took a leap of faith and believed another opportunity would arise, and so it did. Well three at once, I joined an Au pair agency and decided on a lovely half French- half Mexican family in Picardie. Before I knew it my time at home had come to an end, and I was heading off on my next adventure.

I had vowed as a New Year resolution to be conversational in another language, my language of choice was easy, French. I had already the basic’s, mastered, I understood a lot during conversations around French people and my family had a house in France, it made natural sense. As most people would know the best way to learn another language is to be thrown in at the deep end and live in a place that speaks the language you want to learn. Hense why I am now living in this petite part of France.

With great apprehension I arrived, at the Gare de Saint Quentin my nearest local town, the family were all well equipped with having au-pairs, so it was more of a case of me getting used to them, than them getting used to me. The first British girl problem I had, was mistaking ‘on y va’ for ‘en hiver’, the first one meaning ‘lets go’ the second ‘in winter’. I bit confused, by the courteous, ‘in winter’, good bye, I soon mastered the ‘H’ and the ‘Y’ sounds. I am overly shy when it comes to starting speaking another language, and that's really the worst thing. I have come to understand, that you have to make yourself look stupid, to fully master a language and also don’t mistake ‘beaucoup’ for ‘beau cou’, the latter meaning beautiful bum.

Culturally, I feel I am blessed, with the opportunity to pry into the authentic French lifestyle, and even getting the third degree from the grandma, who insists in eating dinner at 12.30 everyday. (When she caught us eating at 3 pm) Such strict attitudes, I think represents the broad French culture, (Does get in the wa of french people and food) as most shops still close for lunch, this would be unheard of in England. Also getting used to eating, in the evening, at around 9.30 was a shock, but these are all part of the experiences.

I have been spending my summer days whimsically, riding around the French countryside, playing quintessentially French games, such as happy families. Learning French, listening, digressing so much about this beautiful culture and now September is already upon us and I have only three weeks left

I have indeed so much to write about, but firstly check out my adventure,'Parc Asterix's' to and my first attempt at making ‘'Tarte Aux Pomme'’ (All French readers, I hope you are not too disappointed my my first attempt.

I vow from now on, to become a ‘blogger junky’ and providing you all with weekly updates on my whimsical adventures, hope you stay tuned.

Tu me manqué...

Nattie x 

Asterix et Obelix!

Ow mon dieu, you look like Falbala!!!

 ‘Natalie, you have the same hair as Fallbala, actually I think you are falliba’ the girl I’m looking after exclaimed. Puzzled, as to who actually is Fallbala, I was soon to discovered, she was a character from the french, Asterix et Obelix franchise. Much like Tin Tin, I was aware of this comic book euphoria, but I had never bothered to discover more, until now. 

What better way to discover, the famous French children books, that to visit ‘Parc Asterix’..

The sun was beaming, the children were smiling, and we on our way to ‘Parc Asterix’. I should be very excited, but unfortunately theme parks were not my cup of tea. Being throwned around, by some giant metal structure, that makes you feel like you are about to hurl everywhere was just making my stomach churn at the thought of it (Take me to puy du fou any day) Unfortunately, I had no choice we were on our way, and I decided, I was curious to discover more about the book series, which is defiantly a French institution. (Plus there must be rides for kid’s right?)

We arrived, with the folly of French families, and the occasional English voice as we delved through the crowd. I was happy to walk around and go on a few, more timid rides, and actually there was a really good mix of rides available, off course really big roller coaster's, for all you thrill seekers out there.

The park was divided into different areas, there was a Parisian area, Greek (my favorite) and Egyptian, which I discovered, relates to the stories themselves, kind of cool. They also created some shows, for the visitors, not lame, 5 minute re enactments, but big stunt shows, and amusing comic entertainers. This was my favorite part of the park. It was funny and very well acted out. (Although you might need a good level of French to fully understand) If you do go to the park, please go see the Roman...., was so funny.  And let’s not forget, I saw my first dolphin.


The day soon, drew to an end and I was not relieved it was over, instead I was eager to read some Asterixs et Obelix books, in French of course.

I started geeking up on my Asterix et Obelix knowledge, and I was very shocked how intergral to french society this comic book has become, with over 34 books published, and 12 films in total, this franchise has earn t over 32 million euros. It has been translated in over 100 languages, including local languages. For instance, they translated it into Finnish, but then translated that version, into 'Helsinki slang'.

Culturally this comic book, has been popularized by being used in numerous advertisements, from featuring in the simpsons and Mr Bean. 'Asterix' was also the name for France's first astronaut, which coincidentally in Greek this means, Little Star. (All information from Wikipedia) 

Nattie x  

Tarte aux pomme, or Pomme aux Tarte!

I feel wayward, blogging about my ‘Tarte aux Pomme’ making, not because it’s actually misbehaving to make Tarte aux Pomme, but because, it’s so French, and should not be attempted around French people, I feel like I’m attempting sacrilege at the very thought... well it could be worse, I could attempt a Croissant!

Although I’m a bit wayward sometimes, so here it goes...

I used, pre-made pastry, as that was already in the fridge, although I prefer making my own, as it’s properly homemade then. In least I used apples from the garden, which I have been dying to make something with all summer.



It really is very simple to make, the only fiddly part is arranging the apples, which is more for aesthetic purposes, so make it as authentic and neat as you like. I followed this video, for French apple tarte, but there are lots of tutorials online.

It tasted good, well by the next morning, it had all mysteriously disappeared – so I only take that as a positive sign.


The big question is which do I prefer the English apple pie or the French 'Tarte aux Pomme?

This was not really a hard decision in hindsight. I have had a love affair with French cakes for years, nothing beats stopping of for a mischievous 'salon de thé' visit (Tearoom/ Boulangerie ) , but this being said it is just too fiddly, it might look creative but English Apple pie with cream, wins my bet. Save, the ‘Tarte Aux Pomme’ for my next ‘salon de thé ’stop.

Let me know what you think.

Nattie x