Nicky, Nicky, Nine Doors

Simone remembers all too well her early teenage years and the anxiety she felt at trying to fit in. Her efforts included playing a game of knocking on doors and running away that ended in being cornered in an elevator with the very irate mother of a baby. Seems this young mother felt, justifiably, quite upset by the intrusions that occurred with frightening regularity at baby's naptime. Ever since, Simone has quaked inwardly when it came to knocking on a stranger's door.

Still, she had to do it. It was either that or going back to the car to face a tired baby and his stressed dad. The first house residents did not know anyone on the rue des Cytises. They were able, however, to inform Simone that the street she was currently on was named after a different sort of flower. The number of houses was thus reduced.

On a whim, Simone walked briskly to the other end ot the street and knocked on the door of the first house that appeared to be occupied.

"Hello, do you know M. and Mme G.?" asked Simone. "They live in Paris, have three grown children and spend August here."

Three children ran circles around the woman's feet. "I don't know them," she said regretfully. "But I can tell you one thing. They do not live in this house, that house, that house, that house or that house."

Simone thanked her and went to the first house not included in the negative list. She approached the door and hesitated. A stroller stood outside the door. This was unlikely to be her aunt and uncle's house. Still, she decided to knock, if only for further information.

"Simone!" her uncle exclaimed when he answered the door.

"Why do you have a stroller?" she asked, pleased as punch to have found the right house but puzzled by the presence of the item.

"It's for you!" said Simone's aunt. "How did you find our house? You didn't have our address!"

"Or your phone number," added Simone. She turned around and waved to her husband that this was the right place. "But we found you! And it's a long story!"

"You can tell us over cocktails," smiled Simone's uncle.

And so she did.

du porte à porte avant le réveillon

Simone doit faire face. Elle a ni le numéro de téléphone de son oncle, ni son adresse, ni le numéro de qui que ce soit en France. Enfin, ce n'est pas tout à fait vrai. Elle a le numéro de téléphone fixe de sa grand-mère mais comme celle-ci n'est pas chez elle, Simone n'est guère avancée.

"On fait quoi?" demande le mari. "On attend l'appel de ton oncle?"

Simone n'ose pas regarder son mari. Elle croit apercevoir son oncle à la fenêtre d'une des maisons de la rue des Cytises mais l'homme disparait avant qu'elle ne puisse vraiment le dévisager.

"Je vais aller voir si leur nom est écrit sur leur boite à lettres," dit Simone. Elle remonte la fermeture éclair de son manteau, enfonce son chapeau sur ses oreilles et enfile ses gants. Puis elle sort de la voiture et part à l'aventure.

Très rapidement, elle se rend compte qu'il n'y a pas assez de lumière pour voir les noms des résidents. Simone s'empare de son iPhone et utilise la fonction lampe de poche pour illuminer les boites à lettres. Toutes les boites y passent dans la rue des Cytises. Certaines sont illisibles mais aucune ne porte le nom recherché.

Simone ne veut pas remonter dans la voiture. Elle passe donc au plan B.

Lost in the Dark in St-Palais-sur-mer

To say that the tension mounted in the car as Simone and hubby drove down the darkened streets of St-Palais searching for a street that neither the GPS nor local maps acknowledged as existing... that would be a HUGE understatement.

Simone asked hubby to drive up to a couple who were out walking in the flower-named streets with their son.

"Excuse me, do you know where the rue des Cys, Cyt-something might be located?" Simone inquired.

The woman knew indeed where the street was located. She gave some directions. The woman's husband whispered something about big stones.

"If I tell them those directions, they'll get lost for sure," snapped the woman. "At least this way, they'll know where the street is located."

Simone and hubby drove off, a little puzzled by this altercation but relieved to have at last found Simone's uncle's street.

Unfortunately, the cryptic large stone statement lost its ambiguity shortly. The street leading to the rue des Cytises was blocked by three large stones. Simone's husband has a superb sense of direction though and, having ascertained the general whereabouts of the street, managed to get back to it in short order.

"Right," he said, "now what's their house number?"

"Um, I don't have it," admitted Simone shamefacedly.

Simone's husband sighed. "Okay, well let's call your uncle then."

"I wish I could. I thought I had my phone book with me but I apparently left it back in Normandy."

"What about your father? Can we call him?"

"Um, I don't know his number in France."

"Well," Simone's husband nearly shouted with exasperation, "how do you propose we find the house? Shall we just sit here in the car and wait for your uncle to call to find out where we are?"

Simone thought that might be a fine idea - but she knew that the stress level in the car would increase unless she took some action.

"I have an idea!" She exclaimed, anxious to jump out of the car.

St Palais tard dans la nuit

Bon, d'accord. Il n'était pas si tard que cela. N'empêche que lors de leur arrivée à St Palais sur mer vers 18h, le mari de Simone lui a posé LA question.

"C'est quoi l'adresse de ton oncle?"

Malheureusement, Simone n'avait qu'une idée aussi vague qu'un terrain du même nom de l'adresse de son oncle.

"Je crois qu'ils sont sur la rue des Cysises, ou quelque chose dans le genre," avoua-t-elle, quelque peu gênée.

"Et qu'as-tu demandé au GPS?"

"Euh, le GPS ne connaissait pas le nom de la rue. Alors j'ai inséré un nom de rue de fleur car ils sont dans un quartier où toutes les rues ont des noms de fleur."

Pas convaincu, le mari au volant. De plus que lorsqu'il suit les directions indiquées par le GPS, il se retrouve dans une rue pas éclairée et entourée de champs. Il se dirige alors vers le centre de la ville et trouve un Champion, un supermarché. Simone rentre et obtient une carte, qui n'a pas le nom de la rue recherchée et vérifie le botin pour s'assurer que son oncle y est bien. Il n'y est pas.

Simone et son mari repartent dans le quartier où ils étaient, car la carte qu'ils ont obtenu indique qu'il y a en effet beaucoup de noms de fleurs dans le même coin...

And on Sunday they rested...

Maybe it was the fresh Normandy country air... Simone and hubby slept until noon. Unfortunately, that sleep put a serious crimp into the rest of the day: everything closes at 1 pm on Sunday in Normandy. That meant that Baby B ran out of juice, a day trip to Paris became out of the question and in any case, everyone was too relaxed to accomplish anything of real value.

Auntie M. was not feeling very well and spent the greater part of the day in her room. But on Monday morning, everyone was raring to go. Unfortunately, the hot water heater still wasn't. Nobody took a shower.

Guilt spread through the house like wildfire, as Mam, the octagenarian, was planning to stay in the house alone for New Year's Eve. Still, she insisted so Auntie M. went on her merry way to a skiing holiday in the mountains. Simone and hubby got in their rental car and drove toward St Palais sur mer and Kiki and his wife resumed packing for their own getaway in Bordeaux. They would all, save for Auntie M., get together again come January 2nd at the house in Normandy.

Many, many hours later Simone and hubby arrived in St Palais. But that in itself was an adventure...

La France en 2008-2009

Simone et son mari ont bien dormi jusqu'à 11h30 le 27 décembre. Le bébé aussi, d'ailleurs. Manque de pot, ils étaient attendus chez des amis pour le déjeuner - à plus d'une heure de route avec GPS (ou 3 heures sans GPS).

Vite, vite, ils se sont tous précipités vers la cuisine car avant tout ils étaient affamés. Ensuite, la douche. Ah, non! Pas de douche, car il ne restait plus d'eau chaude. Bon, on s'habitue à presque n'importe quoi.

Ils arrivèrent finalement chez leurs amis à 3 heures de l'aprés-midi alors que ceux-ci finissaient leur fromage. On ne les attendait plus...

La discussion a tardé et ils finirent le "déjeuner" vers 18 heures. De bonne heure, quoi. Et puis re-route vers le Chesnay en Normandie.

Le bébé voulait simplement qu'on lui dise quand il allait pouvoir enfin marcher. Il en avait marre d'être coincé dans un siège d'auto. Il faut dire que ses parents pensait plus ou moins la même chose...

Adventures in France

Simone flew out on December 25th with a plane full of fellow adventurous souls. Hubby and Baby B were on board. Eliot the dog rested agressively (apparently he was quite the menace there - he licks the shoelaces of delivery people when he's with Simone though) at a kennel in the countryside. The older children were staying in various locations, far enough away from one another to prevent infighting. Maybe not.

Baby B slept for a record 4 hours on the plane and Simone managed to doze off for a while. She was distracted from her slumber by the movie "Mama Mia" starring Merryl Streep. Hubby laughed when he noticed the tears streaming from Simone's eyes as she gazed at the screen. ABBA songs played an important role in Simone's formative years and the delightful combination of music and mayhem tugged at Simone's heartstrings. Okay, so she's sappy. What of it?

The weather in France did not bode well. A warming trend had abruptly come to an end the day before Simone's arrival and the next ten days figured more cold and, gulp, snow. Who'd have thunk it? And in December too!

Sleep deprived and weary, Simone and hubby dragged themselves into the centennial family home in Normandy in the afternoon of December 26 only to discover that their day was only just beginning. Apparently, the family Christmas dinner was planned for that very night. Since family dinners in France rarely begin before 8 pm, Simone knew she would not be getting much sleep that night...