Le Touquet-Paris-Plage ... and my bracelet.

Last weekend, Gert and I were wandering the wet streets of Le Touquet Paris Plage, about 200kms from Antwerp, playground of wealthy Parisians ... or so rumour goes.

He had booked us the Sunday night special in a rather marvellous hotel and it was really lovely.  But the weekend ended up being about more than that.   I have been searching, for a very long time, for a bracelet I could wear constantly, without it breaking and devastating me on a regular basis.  As has been the story so far ...

We were strolling along the rain-soaked streets, looking in shop windows and amusing ourselves before dinner when I spotted a beautiful silver bracelet.  I had to smile ... of course I was going to find a silver bracelet in the playground of wealthy Parisians.  Not being one myself.

Gert called me back as I walked on, pointing to the signs that said '70% discount' and 'closing down sale'. 

We knew it was impossible but we decided to wander in and ask anyway.  There's something rather nice about bracelets when you're a photographer.  Don't ask me why but I relate them to the whole practice of photography.

I tried it on, loved it, and asked how much.  He pointed to the 70% discount sign and did the maths for me.  I was stunned ... and delighted ... and feeling kind of guilty about picking up a beautiful silver bracelet at 70% off.

We walked out smiling, unable to believe how fortunate I had just been.

And the next day, before leaving, I saw this man on the beach and he seemed like a photograph.

 

That Beautiful Hat ...

My journey is the destination companion recently knitted her first hat.  She is the creature who gave me much-needed permission to squander my money on that beautiful scarf pictured in the previous post.

I loved the colours she used and so I am currently negotiating my very own woollen hat.  One with a  Miss 8 designer label.

As for the origin of the concept, 'the journey is the destination' ... I stumbled across Dan Eldon's work back when I lived in New Zealand.  His book has been traveling with me since.  I had this idea it would inspire my English students in Istanbul however the syllabus was always quite tight in the private schools where I worked.

So he simply inspires me. As does Miss 8.

 

Winter continues ...

I cleared about 10cms of snow and ice from the sidewalk this morning ...

Winter continues but perhaps I am beginning to wake, to shake off this winter lethargy, inspired by the kindness of old friends and new. I've been living a hermit's life lately, curling up in the cave of this Antwerpen winter.

Midday found Diana and I  chatting on skype, bringing each other up to speed and talking of winter and workshops.  I find her writing inspirational and this blog post helped shine a little light in on the greyness here.

And the other day ... the day after the day of drama and sadness, Miss 8 convinced me about buying the beautiful Nepalese shawl you see pictured below.  It's a little like wearing my own private version of the sun.

We discovered Nepal Handicrafts on Hoogstraat which is part of our 'pretty way home'.  Miss 8 and I share a passion for finding the most beautiful ways to reach home ... the prettiest way to go anyplace really.  The journey is our destination and we must, if possible, enjoy it.

We have an animal spelling game for the days that are bleak and the trams full.  She starts with 'elephant', for example, and then I have to find an animal whose name begins with the last letter of her animal.  More research is required as we're running out of animals known to us.  It helps that we both have Dutch spelling too but the tram journey is oftentimes longer than our memory or knowledge.

I feel more posts are long overdue.  Life goes on and the sadness that has filled me simply must go.  It's time.

 

Just A Name ...

Yesterday became chaotic suddenly. 

Off the scale really...

I took a phone call from my daughter.  She was collapsing on the side of the road with chest pains but she wasn't sure of the street name.  She couldn't even stand up to put the bike away safely.  And friendly city that Antwerp is ... no one would help her.  Not even with the name of the street.

No one.

I went back there today, to pick up the bike the ambulance people had locked for her, and it's a busy street.  This European city breaks my friendly little New Zealand heart sometimes.  What made those people so cold and uncaring?

Yesterday I called Gert, not knowing what else to do, and he called her.  He managed to recognise her location and called an ambulance.  All of this, bouncing between people and phones, with the added stress of knowing Miss 8's after-school centre was closing and I had to find a way across and through the city's rush-hour gridlock.

As the ambulance people were covering her with equipment to monitor her heart, I was making an emergency call to a really kind Belgian I know.  Sarah saved the day, as did her mum who was able to jump in the car and pick up Miss 8 just as her teacher was calling me, wondering where on earth we all were.

Quite shaken, I set off on a tram to begin putting my family back together.  Jess was in a city hospital, precise location unknown but able to reply to sms's, Miss 8 was safe with good people. I picked Miss 8 up immediately because it was something I could do.

Later that evening and Gert finished his meeting.  He arrived at the hospital, after calling the emergency phone number again to find out exactly where she had been taken, just as the hospital were releasing her.

It wasn't her heart, it was a stomach blockage, she was told.  I went searching.  They're incredibly painful, a collapse on the street is quite understandable as it can feel like your heart. Today I was able to be amused, as I read that coca cola is the 'drug' of choice ... achieving a 91.3 success rate in terms of a cure. 

And so today has been an all over the city day.  School drop-offs and pick-ups, and a return midday for a school play.  The bike rescue, the long icy bike ride home. 

I'm sitting here, wrapped in a beautiful Nepalese shawl Miss 8 convinced me I needed - after 4 days of putting it back.  And I have a glass of red wine, and some good music playing.  I'm exhausted.

Actually, further to the story of the people on that Antwerp street ... someone did come and help Jess eventually.  A lovely Morrocan guy.  And when I think about who I see giving up their seats on the trams or helping young mums lift pushchairs on and off trams, I'm not surprised.

To the others who passed by that young woman on the footpath in a state of collapse.  She only needed a street name, not your blood nor your time.  Just a name ...

So yeah ... it's snowing again.

I took the photograph on 13 March but looking out from my window today, the scene is exactly the same. 

March 20, 2013 and it's snowing.  As I set out across the city on the school run at 7.20am it was all about the umbrella, the correct amount of layers to protect us from the wet cold rain.  On the return, lost in a book on the tram, I looked up and discovered that 'outside' had turned into yet another horrid snowy winter's day.

To try and break the misery that is Antwerp this winter, Gert and I disappeared over to France, to the summer playground of the Parisians ... on a cheap Sunday night deal last weekend.  It rained but I was on a roadtrip and has always delighted me.

Although ... he had fallen on ice last week and sprained his wrist.  Slowly slowly he is healing.  The roads here are lethal in snow and ice, especially the shiny new bricks they've laid on the round-abouts.  He fell crossing the one near home.  We were talking on the phone at the time, and I was feeling particularly miserable after making a freezing cold, roadwork-infested, cross-city trek.

There's nothing quite like hearing the Belgian bloke crash to the ground and lie groaning while seperated by  more than a few kilometres.  I arrived home just in time to head off to A&E with him.  Oh yes, that was a long day.

I suspect I shall be giddy with delight when the temperature goes up and the snow finally stops because it really is Spring.  And rumour has it that these 2 hour city treks will be over as of the Easter holidays.  I really need them to be.  Antwerp, and its current mania for both roadworks and house improvements that seriously impede any progress along the pathways and tramways I take, is a bit like having my own seriously dark and snow-filled cloud over my head at all times.

And so, on that happy note .... tot straks.