The pie or the fish? London

By this morning, my eyes had begun to focus in the manner I had become accustomed to before the flogging they received at the hands of the Ophthalmologist yesterday, and although the sky was nowhere near as blue as it was while we were sitting in the crowded hospital waiting room, the sun did it's best to smile on us as we bounced down towards the City itself.

It was a combination of drop-addled vision and relief yesterday that caused us to exit the hospital's care without giving a thought as to whether there was any actual procedure to let them know we were on our way, and when we returned today to confess and to thank the A&E staff for their help we were greeted with bemusement.   Friendly, grateful bemusement, but bemusement none the less.

Bemusement is also the best way of describing our shopping experience at Primark, the monster chain of clothing discounters that is being blamed for single handedly bringing down all sorts of leading clothing brands in Australia.   The wait in this monster store to enter a changing room to try on a three pound pair of swimmers was barely a few hours less than the wait to see a specialist in the free hospital system, yet people seem to do that quite happily and then queue for almost as long again for the privilege of handing over money to one of dozens of cashiers who themselves had the demeanour of those disgruntled with waiting for hours to see a doctor.  

We had to do it though, buy some togs, in case we feel like having a swim in Icleand.    We didn't in Siberia, and have never regretted that, but we had the choice there and chose not to.   

Tomorrow evening we will have to make that choice I suppose, but today, the only one we had to make was whether to have the fish or the pie at lunch.   

It's nice London

It's nice to be able to just sit and look out of the window sometimes.

It was the slight roll of the eyes as the optometrist shook her head that was most disconcerting, even more than her suggestion that we head off to the Eye Hospital Accident and Emergency "just to be safe".

When the flashes started to appear in the corner of my eye a few weeks ago along with a series of other disconcerting symptoms, we were about to become stranded on a flooded river, unable to heed Dr Google's suggestion that in all probability my retina wasn't detaching, but if the symptoms persist it would possibly be wise to have it checked.   Thus it was that when the optometrist in question suggested the same thing, we thought it might be equally wise to heed that counsel.

It took just four hours of waiting to see a specialist, who was quick to confirm Doctor Google's advice with regard to the urgency of checking the situation, and reassuringly to add that in this case the symptoms would disappear in time and my sight would not, both of which were quite useful pieces of information.

We were left quite grateful that our experience of the much maligned national health service was a pleasant one indeed, except perhaps for the aggression of impatient patients, and the food in the cafeteria which probably went a long way towards explaining the constant wailing of ambulance sirens down Marylebone Road.

Tomorrow, when my eyes have returned to their normal, post examination state I suspect the gratitude will extend to the fact that I can in fact just sit and look out, no matter what the view.

Angelina Auxonne to London via Paris

The Austrian confectioner Antoine Rumpelmayer established Angelina named after his daughter-in-law, in 1903.  For over a century, the Angelina tearoom has established itself as a high point of Parisian gourmet pleasures, Angelina became a must-not-miss venue for the Parisian aristocracy.

There, Proust, Coco Chanel and the greatest French fashion designers were to be found, as indeed was our dear friend Raymonde who, depending on whose version is to be believed is either escorting or being escorted by daughters Gabrielle and Elliane on their tour.  Once again we bounce into a surreal zone, in the company of the familiar, in unfamiliar surrounds.

It is quite disconcerting, the way the world shrinks in the presence of friends, to a dimension no greater than the distance between the backs of chairs.  There in our little space-warped bubble of familiarity we could have been anywhere, the Swiss Cake Shop in Buderim perhaps, or on the footpath outside Van Weegans' in Mooloolaba, or in one of our own living rooms, oblivious to our actual surroundings as we caught up on our respective comings and goings since our last catch-up.

The only clue that we were not at home came from the occasional interruption of the waiter taking orders for more of the richest hot chocolate and the finest pastries as we passed our time in transit in the most splendid manner imaginable, although of course perhaps the occasional glance over our shoulders at the decor beyond did provide a teensy hint.

So Paris was nice, and by day's end we were once again in London, and we had lived another dream.

In a whirl Auxonne

I think about now it's finally safe to describe the weather as "spring".   Already more than half the boats have left the harbour now, off on their summer adventuring.  The remainder are being subjected to heavy scrubbing and general getting ready-ness by smiling crews, dancing to the beat of their own reflections in the water, and we should be doing the same.

But I woke with an amazing bout of dizziness and even more confusion that usual, and my view of the world was constantly changing not unlike living in one of those reflections.

I therefore just sort of hung around all day as has been my custom of late, although feeling a little sorrier for myself than is the norm, while my beloved washed every item of clothing she could find and some things that weren't clothing as well, to get them dry in case the sun should fail to rise ever again.

"We" also had to think about packing, because tomorrow before a civilised breakfast time, we will also be departing, but on the train in direction London, heading off in search of cooler, wetter more overcast weather.  The kind to which we have now become accustomed.

In the end, we occupied herself all all day, bustling and working away, while I quite sensibly lay about, holding on to things to stop them swaying, hoping that the world would just stand still before the morrow.

Auxonne

Not wanting to be left out of the the rustle and bustle of doing things in the new found sunshine, we wandered off to the shops to organise the next few weeks of our life.   Of course after our long period of inactivity and not taking too much notice of the calendar, we had forgotten that it was Monday, the day when most shops are closed to sensibly to allow their staff to recover from the weekend, and our morning wanderings therefore while quite enjoyable went unrewarded.

So we wandered back to the port, in time to farewell Joel and Cindy, and to cadge a ride to the station to arrange our travels.  Having waited till a time after which we were confident that railway staff would have completed a sensibly long lunch break, on our arrival we were not overly surprised to discover that we were entirely wrong, as station staff don't actually return after lunch until Friday in Auxonne, and for the second time in one day we found ourselves walking in direction home without reward.

We don't of course have a mortgage on being entirely wrong, take for instance the boat hirers we watched being rescued as we made our way home.  They had made a fairly good fist of not actually taking the preferred course.  When the companies that hire these craft advertise no experience necessary, they really do need some fine print that says that perhaps a teensy bit of the stuff could be put to good use from time to time.  

I guess the short cut seemed like a good idea, and fortunately no actual injuries were sustained in the event.

On a happier note, the accompanying rescue circus did give the shopkeepers and railway staff something to keep them entertained on their afternoon off.

Better and better Auxonne

In another life and another country, had the day presented itself with as little sunshine as this one did, we may have even presumed to call it gloomy.

In this country though, the clarity of the light when it did poke through was enough to have everyone out and about cleaning, drying, smiling until late in the evening when the sun finally deigned to make and appearance, and the cleaning and smiling turned into barbecues and laughter. 

All around the harbour the levels of activity have gone up another notch.   

The floods have gone, the sun is out, the waiting is over.

Some managed to tear themselves away today, but tomorrow it seems, the summer exodus will begin.

Sunshine! Auxonne

Last night we were convinced we'd eaten enough to keep us in hibernation for an entire winter, but when my first eye opened this morning it was earlier than I'd hoped.  I do believe it had stirred no doubt due to to an unfamiliar sensation reaching its still unopened lid.

The barest glimmer of reflected sunlight was dancing on the curtain above our bunk.

It was faint at first, but it was definitely sunlight, I remember seeing pictures of it on the internet.

I sat up and looked outside, and was greeted by a sea of heads doing exactly the same thing.  Staring in disbelief.

Every boat in the harbour, and there were many which until now we had thought were unoccupied, had at least one, mostly several human forms visible, each slowly stirring as though the impact of their own party nights sometime last October were at last starting to wear off.

In the village the same thing was happening, the entire town had come to life.  People were simply standing outside in silent disbelief, as though  in awe of the enormous switch which had just been flicked to allow summer to finally show through the clouds.

It didn't last of course, but it seems that everyone, having glimpsed the possibility, has been filled with a new energy and optimism.