A new view of Bordeaux

I called on one of the church members today, who lives in the city centre near the Conservatoire.

To get there I walked through the Capucins Market. Magic! It was wonderful! Chinese stuff galore.

To get back to the Student Centre I walked past l'Eglise St. Michel, with the various people who sell junk all over the square. If you want to buy French junk (and what British person doesn't want to?) that's the place to go. Old radiator grills from pre-war Citroëns, dull brown pottery jugs with duller brown markings, all sorts of junk!

Then through the Arab quarter. Prickly pears, 2,80 € per kilo, and loads of different kinds of peppers, and old chaps with Arab hats (I saw a chap straight out of King Solomon's Mines, in long robes with a kind of African turban, buying bananas) and a stall selling those black and white houndstooth scarves that Palestinians wear and that trendy guys wrap round and round their necks, and stalls full of little bags for men, because in France you have to carry your keys, your wallet, your driving licence, your car registration documents, your insurance certificate and your identity card at all times or you can be fined. Then up Cours Victor Hugo to the Musée d'Aquitaine and over to the Student Centre.

It was brilliant to see parts of the city I have never visited. The Big Bell! I am slipping into my old ways. Never stopping to look around or to explore.

I took some pictures. I'll put them on later. Now I must go back some time to buy a black and white houndstooth scarf to wrap round my neck like the trendy guy that I am (deep down...).

I just love Bordeaux sometimes.

Comments

Anonymous said…
So, like Presley, Yasser Arafat's not dead. He (Arafat and for all I know, Presley as well), is alive and kicking in Bordeaux!!! Watch that not too many revolutionaries gravitate towards you with your new garb.
6:55 pm
Alan said…
Oh - and you have to carry your cheque book. In Britain we'd sometimes go years without ever writing a cheque. Here you write 'em all the time.
11:17 am
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A bit about music exams in UK and France

They're really different. I think I have already mentioned that while in the UK people generally find a private teacher for their instrument, or do it through a school scheme, here there are municipal music school, conservatoires and so on. The situation is a little more complex than I had first understood, because the schools vary in the rigidity of their organisation: the most, the conservatoires, next the municipals, then the associations. Our music school is an association, but it tends to apply the standards of the municipal schools with its programme of cycles, etc. Britain - grade 1 to 8, grade 8 being roughly equivalent to A-level, pre university/conservatoire. France - 3 cycles, each taking about 4 years, with 3ème cycle being roughly equivalent to grade 8. Theory of music - UK to take grade 8 you need theory grade 5. In France you study theory alongside your instrumental studies, very slowly. Catrin's flute music is MUCH more difficult than the stuff she does in theor...
Read more

Good news from my sermon buddy

Yesterday we went over my script from August 13. There really wasn't much she had taken exception to. Once or twice she wondered quite what I was getting at (they had the same problem at Deeside, I think...) and I do have difficulties with the word " de ", but then she said "Who doesn't?" So I felt very encouraged. I also took the opportunity to ask her about one or two things: 1) Direct preaching. Like I used to in Britain, I preach saying you - using "vous" when I am talking to the whole wide world and "tu" when I want it to feel as if I am addressing each person individually. French preachers tend to say rather "What will we do, what will one do". So I asked her if she felt my way was too direct, too brutal for the French ear. She said "I think you can get away with it with your English accent". In fact several people have commented on how much they appreciated being spoken to directly in preaching. 2) Liaisons Last...
Read more

A brief sortie to North Wales

 Following the Great Keswick Debacle, when our volunteering at the Keswick café was sabotaged by our assorted indispositions, we had airline tickets to use up. Yes, we had not taken travel insurance, so we paid even more money to change our tickets to fly for a short visit to North Wales. This time we were able to go. We passed extremely slowly through a very crowded Bordeaux airport but in good time to get our plane. All seats in the terminal were taken so we leaned against whatever we could find while waiting to board. Hey, bags need seats, too! though sometimes pointing out to Pat, "No, that's a bag seat", makes the bag find a new refuge on the lap of the person sitting next to it... Once on the plane we quickly found our allocated seats - right at the back on the left hand side - stowed our bags and the flight was smooth and uneventful.  We had 30 minutes in Manchester to disembark, get through immigration , hustle off to the station and board our train for Shotton. I...
Read more