Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

Autumn. Fall. Both words have been rolling off my tongue all week. Which do you revert to normally?

It’s Tuesday, week 2 after the schools reopened, and life is almost back to normal, barre the lingering signs of Covid barrier precautions. I crossed into the city this morning after school drop off and found myself walking below the chestnut trees that line the quais. With their branches dipping over the canals’ “ramparts”, and the lazy morning sun just glistening through the green-brown leaves and spiky chestnuts, I was strangely hit with a sense that I need to say hello to my old Strasbourg mommy friends.

This life we live, almost straddling 2 sections of culture; that being not a local, but also not an expat, we tend to pass by our summer holidays without seeing our friends. The effect of this is that come rentrée time, we spend the first fortnight catching up with our own friends while our kids are back at school. Obviously, the nature of the School Gate Mommies- those of us who had children young enough to be dropped off and collected at school- is now a thing of the past given our monsters are now older and are less monsterish, my life has changed and I find myself wandering through town having imaginary conversations with my old friends. (Old as in time frame, not age, by the way. And they’re not exactly old friends, they’re just not close by to have a cup of tea with anymore.)

So there I was this morning, clad in Very Day Wear dashing from one school to the next, when I figured I needed to pop in at the pub for coffee.

Actually, I wasn’t wearing Very Day Wear. I was that mother, wearing running clothes, because I like making other parents feel guilty for not going for a run. Because that’s how I feel when I see the very fit 6 foot German mom striding towards the school gate in her psychedelic lycra. (TBH, I was not actually going to run. If anything, I might have walked the 6 kilometres home from Alex’s school but by 8:45 this morning, my bladder was never going to let me spend another hour sans any amount of pelvic-floor-muscle-clenching discomfit.)

Speaking of Very Day Wear Beth H, guess what has eventually opened its doors here in Strasbourg? That’s right… Primark has finally emblazoned the street with its’ bright blue branding by using turquoise blue barriers outside its doors (to herd queuing shoppers in in the correct direction through the security checkpoints) and have painted blue stripes on the new tarmac pavement around the block (again, to ensure correct herding of shoppers. CovidTimes call for all manner of teaching moments.) I say finally, because it has taken since 2017 to reach this point. There has been many, many hurdles overcome to arrive at the rather low-key opening this morning. The biggest impact on my life will be from an angle that is unrelated to clothing and shopping: from now on, the Irishmen who have been working at the construction site will be leaving Strasbourg, so Saturday breakfasts at 9:45 will be much quieter going forward.

Other city news is that the F Tram has changed its route. This is only significant to me as it will allow commuters to head out to the little ‘heim that we spent our first 4 months living in in 2013. I do love urban development, and new commuter routes are great. As far as other urban changes go, there are currently new ‘gardens’ on display in the city centre, in the open squares. It has provided a cheery backdrop to these areas, but I am unsure if it was part of an initiative by the new city mayor (who is a green party member, or in my description, an eco-warrior) to make the city more ‘green’, or if it was merely a little beautification during a summer that was devoid of overseas tourists.

Speaking of the city rues and tourists this CovidSummer, it has been very interesting to view the spilling over of restaurant terraces onto the trottoirs since June. I would go so far as to say that it gives the city a greater ‘holiday’ vibe than it ever has had. I do hope that the municipality accommodate restaurant owners more in the future, and allow them to have extended terraces in the warmer months. Conviviality, clinking glasses and the smell of tobacco winding down quaint side streets do make for a different appeal when the chips are down (a la virus style.)

Ah, yes, the CovidTimes. Every time I walk into a shop now we are now ‘herded’ into certain routes across the shop, a la IKEA style… you know, follow the direction indicated by the arrows plastered onto the flooor… You would encounter this only once you have gained access to the stores after you may have had to queue behind the strip stuck on the floor outside, demarcating 1 metre spaces between people. You’ll have had to sanitise your hands again, thereby ensuring a greater need for a decent handcream for those moments you finally get to leave the city behind. Obviously, masks are officially obligatory now, which has been law in the bigger cities in France since the end of August. There are some French that are a little bit like some Americans and have made a point of demanding their fundamental right to breathe virus (and other) polluted air, and have legally made a move to avoid wearing masks. Sadly, I have become that person who glares at people as they sit on a veritable ceramic column reaching to the heavens; they don’t even look half guilty that they’re not covered up. That said, I wear a mask during the hours I am at work but it is incredibly difficult to smell if something is burning, not to mention a quick tasting while whipping up a fresh sauce. What is the best solution? Snide comment about uncovered frenchmen aside, I am only too happy to leave the city and be back home in our little piece of rural city-life. I can’t wait for the day when the virus infections have stopped increasing, and masks are no longer obligatory.

So of course, 4 months ago, we all muttered comments about The New Normal; greeting each other would be less handsy, we would stay away from the rat-race that is stressful commuting to work and school. We would take moments to be with our loved ones. Did I really think we would be able to maintain just a little of that?

La French Bis aside, traffic is just as it was in March. The cycle of going to school continues to take vast chunks out of the family day. Anton is still working a half week at home. After one employee tested positive for Covid, the return to office deadline was extended and 30 other employees who had been in touch with the infected lady have been forced to work from home again.

As for me, the pub is still not running at any capacity to ensure the chefs return full time so I’m working a 20 hour week- 4 hours a day, 5 days a week. It’s not ideal- you would think out of all the hours of the working week I CAN do, all of these hours I work are in the evening and on weekends so my nights spent dining with Anton and my girls is sadly a distant memory. My days are now wide open to fill creatively. Hence the new Instagram account with food photos, and an endeavour to write more creatively, more often. It also means I will be able to run home from dropping Beth at school, so long as my bladder is empty and I have decided I can deal with men leering at my Lycra-clad post-CovidDays figure. (Despite the face masks, the eyes don’t lie.)

As I step into work shortly, let me finish this off. I just wanted to say that I was thinking of so many of you this morning and wanted to phone to catch up. I hope you enjoyed this and that you are well after a series of odd months.