The last day in Dijon

As the train sped towards Paris, by the green fields, rolling hills and old limestone farmhouses I wistfully admired the profound beauty of the French country side for the millionth time, while the children slept, Lily’s slumbering form on the seat beside me warm and comfortable under my scarf. I even dozed too, sneaking a peek now and then at Riel looking flushed and drooling under my trench while he slept on the seat across. We had stayed up until all hours celebrating and then…*grunt* finishing packing and everyone was bone tired. Even though we are not the ones actually filling the boxes, this event of moving house is still a monumental task of organization and preparation as we have been sorting and pitching for months…

So why so much stuff I ask myself…? Huh.

The movers arrived this morning at 8 A.M and the kids were still warm and sleepily tucked into their little beds. Our son was up in about two seconds with visions of MOVING TRUCKS in his head. He was sure he would be able to give the “boys” a hand and was intensely disappointed when we tried to explain why this might not be SO practical…

It was sort of surreal in fact wandering around Dijon today before we left thinking to ourselves ”Hmmm….homeless for a little while…feels sort of funny…Gee I sure hope the house is ready in Germany when we are…”

And knowing that we might be back in Dijon or we just might not…

We treated ourselves to the great breakfast of the Dijonnais, Pain Chocolat (Chocolate Croissants) and Chocolat Chaud (Hot Chocolate) at our favorite spots, mainly since we had gotten ejected out of the house so early even though it was blustery and cold. The kids spent their last few hours at regularly scheduled art and music classes while I wandered around appreciating the beauty of Dijon through fresh eyes wondering to myself why when we know we will soon loose something does it so suddenly increases in value?...

Note to self: File under lessons learned for future use.

More of Spain...

Strolling the streets of Barcelona...

The Goudi's Church Sagrada Familial under construction

A section of the ceiling of the cathedral...

The Tapas bar where we had a FEAST...*burp*

Journey to Spain

The first evening we arrived after over-nighting on the sleeping car (couchette) from Dijon to the Spanish border, replete with double bunks, individual reading lights that can be switched on and off, on and off, ON AND OFF…many many times before Mommy or Daddy yell, upper and lower lime green sleeping bag jobbies and individual freshen up kits which included exactly one wipe, 2 breath mints and ear plugs (like that’s going to do it???) I guess if everyone smells REALLY bad the earplugs could be used in other orifices or sensory organs as well… The kids were great, but REALLY excited and once all the prerequisite giggling had died down to a dull roar, we settled into a comfortable sleep, lulled by the timeless sound and motion of the train.

We woke in the morning true to French form, without showering, (ok…so that is SO VERY tongue in cheek) and our with our first thoughts being of BREAKFAST. Visions of steaming mugs of hot coco, yogurt and chocolate croissants danced in our heads and when we enquired of the red faced stubbly sleep encrusted steward, who by the way looked as thought he had had something entirely different to DRINK for breakfast, in which direction exactly could we find the dining car he looked at us with a bemused expression and replied…Nada…

As in NO…meaning none…like as in NO FOOD AT ALL??? (just to be sure)???

Rats. (Did I say one of the best things about traveling is the FOOD!!)

We managed to scrounge some oranges and juice from the night before to appease the masses and arrived after a breathtaking journey in between the rocks and the sea of the Costa Brava. The wind swept Mediterranean lay on the left and the snow capped peaks of the Pyrenees on the right. As we travelled further south the heavy veil of misty Dijon grey lightened like a watercolor to clear brilliant blue and the architecture transformed from the austere ivory limestone of Provence to more ornate colorful Spanish stucco punctuated with white trim and dusty olive, palm, and citrus trees.

Once we arrived the cab went up and up and up...to the hills.

Train journey to Spain... 150 Euros
Watching the moon rise over the Med... Priceless...

Ballon Rouge

There is an international theatre festival that runs in Dijon for the two weeks of school vacation in February, called A PAS CONTE, and today we went to a play called “Ballon Rouge”. It was one of the most interesting, most amazing pieces of children’s theatre I have ever seen.

The curtain opens to a completely black stage and a man enters with a lap version of an accordion, doubtless some historical folk instrument. He begins to play softly and the machine shudders and wheezes audibly between stanzas. The music has the wafting romance of gypsy song but there is an added hint of melodrama of old talkies and their silver screen. As he plays a light from above illuminates a small red ball on an otherwise empty stage, suspended in the air above a black table, on which rest two slender oblong strips of foam, one blue and one white. To the scores of the music the oblongs of foam are skillfully animated by invisible puppeteers who soundlessly and with only the red ball, tell a story of two people who meet, fall in love and have a child. The child frolics and plays, and then hides. The parents become despondent, and melancholy. In the end the child is found and all is well in Foamville. The story is so eloquently told and the music so expressive the performers had the audience howling with laughter one moment and holding their collective breath in anticipation the next. Even the really wee wee ones seemed to completely comprehend exactly what was going on.

At the end of the show the only thing left on the stage was the small red ball…which disappears and is replaced by a larger ball, and so on and so on until the red ball left is IMMENSE, well over 15 feet in size, puffy, huge, bouncy and shiny. The ball is launched into the audience and is rolled around collectively by eager children whose hands hold it high and pass it to each other over their heads as if they are jubilantly passing the winning goal scorer at a final match.

The end.

It was FABULOUS!!!

Still high on Paris...and the Louvres...

Wow!!!
More Wow...and this is the view from Napoleon's apartment...bedroom to be more exact...
Gorgeous.

Of course, to Lily the most interesting thing is the geometric shapes in the marble floor...so typical that they process information based on the current frame of reference...

We ARE feeling all inspired and did some printmaking yesterday, and today we made an apple tart together...

Gosh I LOVE doing cool things with my kids!!