da girls

how many???
kiara, lacey and i, in best form, supporting the all blacks @ lyon.
nice one girls xx 

lyonopolis

nestled between the rhône and the saône rivers with a hill for praying and a hill for working the pretty ex roman trading post is quite the cultural city. not that i saw much of its culture.
as per usual i looked at it from the outside and a little from the inside of a glass. (which is kinda cultural...?) its a town where they roll out the barrel: the heart of the beaujolais:
so, november 16th is the beaujolais nouveau fest (as in, when everyone gets to sample this season's beaujolais wine) and what better time to go catch up with friends and to do a little work on the city that is the topic of my latest research and employment.
so, maggy the great, traverser of countries (yes, plural) drove us down there at not quite break neck speeds a coupla days early but in time to visit some of pascal's great uni buddies.
we also popped in to a little mediaevil town perched atop a hill in the freezing cold.
we walked up the praying hill to witness muffled views of the city in the rain, with a mini eiffel tower to the right and a monstrous church to our lady the fourvière (dunno what that means) to the left, snuck past the churches to the saints paul, john & george (maybe fourvière is old latin for ringo?) all in time to go watch the rugby.
ooooh what a game!
i shared the spectacle with my 2 american chicas (if you've been following the blogs, these are the same 2 lovelies who i met and travelled with in nicaragua) who enjoyed the action, or at least the boys' form....

once again it was nice to catch up with friends, they make the road worth while. and for me, i got to meet some more of pascal's 'family', a very important family. (c'etait un plaisir de faire votre connaissance x)

and for maggy, well she had her picture taken at 97km/h the wee tart. we're not quite sure if the gendarmerie will be able to publish the picture directly to the blog.....


oh, and as for the beaujolais, well, this year i'd probably recommend it to go with a strong cheese, maybe parmesan, on top of your salad.

xxxx
b

middle earth

i always found it ironic living in the shires, the actual shires that mr tolkien wrote about when new zealand claims to be 'middle earth'. the similarities tend to end there. apart from the hobbits.
they're nice people, the hobbits. like to eat, like to drink and be merry, they love dancing and having parties. very friendly. totally trustworthy. and despite the fact that not all of them have hairy toes (i'm sure this has got more to do with depilatory actions rather than genetics) they've all got big hobbit hearts.
pascal got to meet my hobbit family and friends and was firmly welcomed as one of the clan.
it's kinda crazy really, to go 'home' when you know it's not anymore; to be welcomed like you've been away for years but continue on chatting like you didn't go any further than the shop.
aiie, hobbit love eh?!

we ventured out of the shires, and crossed the cotswolds popping in on some friendly menhirs enroute. pascal commented that the cotswolds hills are more like a cotswolds bump... i guess if you compare les alpes to snowdonia you might get the drift of it.

middle earth, middle england: where some might equate middle to average i'd say you couldn't get any further from the truth!

thanks for having us, it was wonderful. and we'll see you all in france for a hobbit style camping holdiday!!!
xxxxx
b