Where do I start?......

I knew moving to France would, like everywhere, bring its own challenges. From having done a lot of research and talking with others who have already trodden this path I knew about the long administrative processes and the French love of paperwork. I knew about the settling in process, how it is a bit of a roller coaster experience until you begin to feel more "at home". What I wasn't expecting was the accidents of life.

Snow was forecast for our area for Sunday 29th. It was our youngest's birthday and we had promised him months ago that he could go skiing on his birthday to make up for the fact that he wouldn't really know anyone well enough to have a party. We woke up in anticipation of a white-out. But alas, nothing. So we headed off to Ax-Les Thermes and the resort of Bonascre. It lies south of Foix about an hour and a quarter from our house. We had winter tyres on and so felt confident that we would be ok on the roads. The snow didn't appear until we got to Ax. We saw many people putting snow chains on and wondered if we needed them. The sports shops were selling them so we decided not to be macho and buy a set putting them on as we saw the hill we needed to climb to get to Bonascre.

Blizzard conditions up the mountain!

We got to the top and set about organising ski hire and ski passes. We then headed up the mountain in the gondola. The weather got worse with every metre climbed. We got out half way up and immediately found ourselves in a snowstorm. Visibility no further than a few metres. Not the weather the children are used to and certainly not what they were expecting. But they slowly got their "ski-legs" back and we wound our way slowly back down the mountain. After about 3 hours we decided that we would call it a day and head for some chocolat chaud. 


200m from the bottom I turned to stop waiting for our youngest to start off again so that I would be behind him ready to help if needed. I was going slowly, too slowly and in turning right the back end of my left ski didn't. However the leg and the knee did. I heard a "crack" and fell over. Having previously ripped my right ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) many years ago I knew what it felt like. So believe thatI have managed to do the same to my left!!!


The fun didn't stop there though. After being transported down the hill in the sledge head first, I was put in the front if the ambulance as there was a bloke on a stretcher on the back. As we're heading off down the very steep slope the ambulance starts sliding out of control towards the edge and the crash barrier! The other helper in the car got out and put herself between the barrier and the vehicle to try to push the car around so that it was back facing down the hill. After this I discovered that there was only one chain on one tyre as the second chain had broken. 


We crawled down the hill in first gear. Then about 2 turns from the bottom and the clearer roads we came upon a bus coming up the hill. It had stopped to put chains on. He hadn't thought about stopping before the hill! So we sat for ages watching the driver get in and out the bus inching it forward and back to get it aligned with the chains and every time  he got out he slipped on the ice. By then there was a huge queue behind us and one guy decided to overtake - then he realised why we'd all stopped as we couldn't get passed the bus! So he put his brakes on and slid right into the back if the ambulance! To top it all I had been needing the loo since about 11 am and had not yet been. I was now fit to burst and couldn't hold it in any longer so I told the ambulance lady and she got a sheet out and held it, with the help of my hubby, to maintain my modesty whilst I did the biggest wee ever at the side if the road!! Took us 2 and a half hours to go a journey that should normally take about 40!!! 


When we got to the hospital I was seen quite quickly and had my knee x-rayed to check there was no fracture. I was then given a full length leg brace to stabilise it and keep it straight. I have to keep it like that for 10 days waiting for the swelling to reduce. I had to then phone on Monday to make an appointment to see the specialist surgeon on Wed 8th. Which, perhaps unlike the UK, I got with no problem. The surgeon will then tell me how bad, or not, my knee is. Hadn't planned on experiencing the French medical system so soon. Haven't yet joined their social security system or taken out insurance - so lets hope the EHIC (European Health Insurance Card) works! On a positive note my husband is till here to drive the kids to school and ensure we have some food - so something good has come of it. Who knows what will happen next week!

Three Weeks In

A six month "stage" or the start of a new life in a new country? My emotions are on a roller coaster at the moment and possibly because of being away from my "home" country for close to 6 years I am currently wishing to be amongst those who speak my tongue and within a short drive of friends and family.

For the boys it is the end of the first 3 weeks of school. They have done fabulously well. I don't think I would have been too happy to be abandoned with a group of people that neither you understood nor could understand you. We have had tears mainly at school drop off from the youngest but the staff have been lovely and are really trying to reduce the pain of their transition. The school only has 2 classes; within each there are 3 different class groups. Our youngest is in CP - the first official year of school. But in reality all French kids have been at school in les maternelles from about 3. CP just formalises the learning and when they officially start to read. He has the Grand Section of maternelles with him in the morning and the CE1 (class above CP) with him all day. In the words of the teacher - she's not left with any time for the fun stuff in class because she is concentrating on the reading, writing and maths between the 3 ages. The eldest is in CM1, the second last year of primary school. He has CE2 and CM2 in the same room with him. His teacher is also the headmaster. He doesn't teach on a Friday so that he can do the paperwork that goes along with the job. There are no TA's and no school secretary. This is a French country village school with only 65 children.

The school has made efforts to accommodate those children who don't have French as their first language. This means that Monday and Tuesday they are in their respective age group classes following the national curriculum. Then on a Thursday and Friday those who don't speak French have special teacher who comes in to teach French language. There is a centre for asylum seekers nearby so there are a number of children who are in the group. The boys are coming out with more words at home, slotting them in the middle of english sentences.

The boys have also joined a football club. Unfortunately the training is at different times. The youngest on a Saturday and the eldest on a Tuesday at a village 15 minutes away. This makes it a logistical juggling ball to get the youngest to basketball in the village closest to the house at the same time the other is meant to start football! A french neighbour across the way has a son who does the football training and he has offered to take our eldest - so hope he remembers!

To sum up - how's it been so far? Well for the boys they are slowly making headway with the language and feeling more sure of what happens at school. My husband has headed back to work in the UK to ensure that we can still pay the bills. And me? Well I lost my best friend and am left feeling a bit liked a beached ship. I speak the language, but not as well as I would like and talking can sometimes be an effort. I end up restricting it to what I need to say. We are in the countryside and I am discovering that the beautiful sunrise over the Pyrenees, the huge numbers of birds of prey and deer loping over the fields is not sufficient. I need more stimulus, more options of courses and activities. And, I never thought I would say this, I miss like minded people - who have given up a birth country to settle in another. But that is why we decided to rent for 6 months whilst house hunting. We have committed to no more than a mobile phone contract and the cost to register the car in France.

Week four looms with 2 challenges - getting the headlights swapped over to LHD ones and a day's training in ski de fond (x-country skiing) for me so that I can accompany the school on their day out in early Feb. Just need to find skis to rent, find out where the course is and understand it! Not much then! Will update how it all went next week.

New Year - New Country

Well, almost 2 years since my last post. We've swapped sand for farmers' fields and views of the Pyrenees. Birds of prey everywhere - sitting on fence posts or tree branches or even on the ploughed fields. We've narrowly missed being hit by a deer streaming across the road in the dark and we've spotted 2 red squirrels. In the past month we've managed to move a houseful of our belongings to storage and travel with 9 bags, one box and 2 cats from the Middle East to France. Squeezed in a UK family Christmas and started our 6 month adventure in France.

The boys have started in the local school and we've managed to survive the first 2 and a half weeks!

Small Community Living

Living in a small, enclosed community like an expat compound, has benefits and many drawbacks. It is good to know all your neighbours and comforting to have them to turn to if you need help - for anything from that vital ingredient for your dinner party dish to looking after one of your children as you have to take the other to the medical centre. 

The main pool and meeting place

Flash floods

Our local pool

However there is no anonymity after a bad day at work for your spouse - because they all work together when one makes a decision it tends to affect everyone else. Resentment brought home from work can spread to their wives and before you know it you're being ignored for something that happened to their husband at work! Living in a closed community where the majority of wives cannot work also leads to bored women with nothing better to do than fill their time with coffee and gossip. Combine this with a culture that forbids women from driving and you have a recipe for a hotbed of gossip and misunderstandings as there is no escape and very little opportunity to find a different group of people to do activities with. Hence the pleasure and escape of the internet. Here I can visit different worlds and be anonymous.

Escarpment west of Riyadh

The first thing that hits you here is the heat, especially if you arrive between April and September. The weather is quite pleasant Oct, Nov, Feb and Mar. But it can get quite chilly over Dec and Jan.




The heat reaches 50 degrees C and is almost suffocating. Everyone scurries from air-conditioned cars, to air-conditioned malls and air-conditioned houses. The pools are welcome places to cool off. At least we can do that in a relaxed western atmosphere. It must be harder for the locals as the majority of their houses are behind high walls, with little garden space and no pools - only the well-off have the space and money.

Faisel's Finger

Coffee pots are popular

Just in case you forget where you are!

Old Diriyah - the original settlement of Riyadh

You are never meant to be more than 800m from a mosque!

Some people are trying to break with the norm and bring colour to the streets

The sun bleaches all colour from the sky and ground. It is all a hazy orange, sandy colour with the strip of pollution adding its own orange haze. I think one of the hardest things I have had to adjust to is to the lack of beauty in my surroundings. Everything is concrete or desert covered in lumpy rocks. There are no beautiful sunsets, sunrises, or even expanses of blue sky to break the monotony of man-made grey. Sometimes on low days I just wish I could witness beauty in nature to give me that little boost to remember where we are in the universe.