Rue Sellenick
These photo’s were omitted last night, you’ll get an idea of what our street looks like:
These photo’s were omitted last night, you’ll get an idea of what our street looks like:
A month has passed since we moved into the city, and for the most part, we are settled. Koos’s paintings are on the walls, I have baked cakes in my Kenwood, a casserole or 2 in my LeCreseut and the girls bedroom largely resembles the state we had it in at home in SA. Somehow … More OUR LIFE IN THE CITY
WHY WE CAME TO FRANCE  There is a blog post doing the rounds, causing much friction on either side of the pond, and a degree of assertion on the continent, (of South Africa that is, not France). The post on the blog is a follow up piece regarding angry ex-pats, to a post she … More In My Defense
Without picking up a dictionary or googling it on Wikipedia, how would you define the word ‘culture’? Do you live your life according to it? Does it define who you are? Is it your excuse? Or would you go so far as to say that it is ‘rubbish’? I sit here in my lovely window … More Culture
In general, Germany’s     food is cheaper than France. Seriously.     We can shave 20% off a monthly shop if we pop into Kehl, over the Rhine.     (Petrol and diesel is cheaper in France.) The French DO NOT LIKE     imports very much at all. Rooibos     tea bags cost the equivalent of 2 … More Shopping, part ii. The good and the bad.
Here are some things I have taken note of today while our Centurion house was unpacked into our Sellenick apartment: 1. If you move to Europe, the chances are you will only need, and have space for, HALF your shit. 2. You WILL HAVE to take off 2 days before the removal company arrive. In SA, my fridge … More Moving your house to another continent.
Is it just me being my over-analytical self, or could this be a topic for discussion? Before you cast this aside as something you are not interested in, stop and put yourself in my shoes for a little while. Take yourself back as far as you can remember. Your friends have always just been THERE, … More Making New Friends
 Shopping  As much as want to write to you about shopping up Rue De La Haute Montée, which is lined with Printemps, Espirit, N’espresso, Gucci, Louis Vitton, and Hermes, I dare not set foot inside their marble doorstep with my Salomon clad feet. (Or my Beth Monster for that matter.)  No, this … More Shopping in Europe, part 1
As I shut down last night for bed, I had one last look at Facebook (because I have no life), and picked up the status of a Highvelder that the rains had arrived up on the plateau. A little later, when I put my kindle to bed, and I shut my eyes, Ms K’s status … More Rain
This last week has seen me reduced to tears. Our trip down to Montpellier down in the South o’ France, along the Mediterranean coast turned out to be very uneventful last weekend, and I did not get to tick my ‘to-do’ list at all. We took a train trip, setting off from the Strasbourg gloom, … More Down South, a Motor vehicle, Tears and a South African.
Curve-balls. Nothing like that silent scream in your head, while your heart plummets passed your soul to wind you up in the middle of the week. Â Last week I wrote to you that Alex and Beth had not been accepted at the school we had originally planned on, and that we had to change … More Curveball
 The week school started:  At last, summer came to an end, and the weekend before the highways were jam packed with commuters returning home (sound familiar anyone?), the city shops were jam packed with families shopping (again, sound familiar? Something does always remain a universal conundrum). I was not overly concerned about the … More The End of Summer
Here’s a statement that you will probably disagree with: My parents are the greatest parents in the world. It’s true. And though YOUR parents could well be the greatest in the world, I still think mine are. Tomorrow- August 30th, they celebrate 38 years of marriage. On one hand, its nothing special. On the other … More Mum, Dad, and 38 years
‘There is a lovely road that runs from Ixtapo into the hills. These hills are grass-covered and rolling, and they are lovely beyond any singing of it. The road climbs seven miles into them, to Carisbrooke; and from there, if there is no mist, you look down on one of the fairest valleys of Africa.’ … More ‘There is a lov…