Posts Tagged holiday

Dad is taking us down to Camargue for my birthday. That’s a promising two days of wide open fields, semi-wild hosrses and good southern food and wine. We’re leaving this afternoon and returning friday so don’t expect any news for a couple of days.

Meanwhile work has already caught up with me. I have to be in the office for two half days next week. A manager for whom I work part-time is ill I will have to stand in for him during a workshop. Needless to say my wife was not pleased with the news.

I wonder how everyone is doing back in Brussels. I sort of left like a thief, only my immediate colleagues know that I’m actually on holidays. I informed none of my friends. They’d only say: “You’re leaving?! Again!”; which is the comment I got from my colleagues. I don’t understand why though. I’ve only taken two weeks back in march which is not that much if you can count on some 24 odd days off a year. On the other hand, if you add all the business trips I’ve taken over the last two months it does seem like I’m never in town. But should I feel guitly for that. No way.

I think its somewhat frustrating for people when you take off for Milan one day, Paris the next and then go to Stockholm a week later. Some, the naive or young ones, think that these trips are actually fun. They seem to think you’ll have enough time to actually visit the town or have a blast on your overnight stay. As most business trippers will recognise, these trips are quite the contrary. They follow a simple model of transport to office, from office to hotel, form hotel to office and back again. A lot of the time you sit in your hotel room catching up on email or preparing for the next day’s meeting.

On my first trips I used to take my camera with me, I still do sometimes come to think of it. But unless I was with someone from the town, who’d take me around a couple of sites after dinner, I’d never get a chance to take a single shot. My last trip is a perfect example of this. I went to Milan, Southampton, Bonn and Paris. The only pictures I took were in the airport. The rest of the time I had no opportunity to take a single picture. If you can’t even find yourself in a good enough position to take a picture forget about visiting town.

Maya and I left sunny Brussels for southern France’s Aix-en-Provence satureday. 1080 Km apart, both cities have little in common, except a decent faculty of psychology at their respective universities. A 10 hour drive and and 4 stretch-stops later we finally arrived at my dad’s place. Did I forget to mention my dad lives down here? Well he does. At any rate, having forgotten to tell him that we would arrive one day ahead of schedule no one was there to greet us. Dad was in Annonay with his wife, participating in a re-enactment of the first hot air ballon flights. So we settled in at the guest house, had some dinner before collapsing collapsed on the couch. A pretty uneventful day.

The beauty of southern France really comes alive in its marketplaces. Sunday morning we headed down to the centre of town to find some chow. Salads, tomatoes, and all the usual. Then some typical southern things like “tapenade”, a sort of olive paste and “caviar d’aubergines”, eggplant paste with garlic. Bread and cheese should of course not be forgotten, after all this is France! Ah and don’t forget the all-important garlic. Everytone in shouthern France eats garlic all day long. They tuck it away in most dishes. The garlic itself though is quite different from what you find in the other parts of Europe. It doesn’t leave such a bad breath and has a much spicier taste than what us northeners are used to.

Last night dad and Lorna got home. Exhausted by their week-end outing they were nonetheless happy to see us. Hugs and cheerz were exchanged, wine bottles opened and drunk. A few drinks later I lay in bed thinking that the south of France was a nice place - especially if you were visiting Belgians.

My birthday is coming up pretty soon. As usual it falls in the middle of holidays so I won’t be able to party with my friends. No biggie though. I’m sure something can be put together later in the summer. Any excuse is good for a party right!

As it happens I’ll be at my dad’s place on B-day down in the south of Frace. Sipping a drink watching over the Mount Sainte Victoire. That shouldn’t stop you from buying me gifts though. :-) If you’re short on ideas, there’s a wish list of mine over on Amazon.

“First day of work after 5 mad days of snowboarding with some (older an hopefully new) friends. My body is worn out, I need to catch up on a couple of hours of shuteye and my knees are shot. It was a blast.”

That’s pretty much how you could sum up my extended weekend trip to Chamonix. The snow was excellent and the days were warm. Winter jackets were laid away never to be seen again. Morning hard-packed and groomed slopes gave way to afternoon slush puppies and spray fests. Maps ensured we never rarely got lost and the Mont Blanc looked upon us with a blessing, protecting us from serious harm.

Nightclubs, pubs, restaurants, and cards ensured our apres ski was filled a plenty. Bright lights, loud music, ever-blond Swedes, humourous Brits and a assorted tourists from around the globe looking for late season snow populated our nights. Wine, vodka, tonic and tea ensured our thirst never swelled to hunger. A good time it certainly was…