In France January 6 is l’Epiphanie, which marks the occasion of the three wise kings visit to little baby J. Traditionally the day is celebrated among family and friends by sharing a galette de rois, a cake of kings. It is a lovely dessert that I would describe as a pie and is made of a light buttery pastry and typically has a marzipan filling, though we cheated a bought one with an apple filling(we both aren’t fans of marzipan). The fun of it is that a feve(bean) is hidden inside, well what is referred to as la feve and I imagine for a very long time was in fact a bean but these days is a small figurine depicting a fable. Who ever finds la feve is crowned King or Queen for the day and as well it is considered a good omen for the year ahead.

On this special occasion I was very careful in my choice of patisserie for the purchase, didn’t want to get a dud! So heading home I was all happy and excited, the cake in its bag with the golden crown ready for the auspicious event. That night after a lovely dinner prepared by Jim, of fresh tuna cooked in garlic, basil and lemon, it was time. First piece no feve, but much making of isn’t it yummy noises. Serving of seconds was done with much anticipation, we were serious this time we wanted that feve! Who would be crowned? C’est moi, c’est moi!!! I was so excited I almost choked on the dam thing. The feve turned out to be a little ornament depicting the fable of little red riding hood. Who was my big bad wolf I wondered? The coronation was performed, photos were taken for remembrance and I thought it was all over. But Jim had a surprise, from his pocket he produced a feve, le rat des villes et le rat des champs, he’d been the lucky recipient at work that day! So there we were King and Queen.

The next night while having drinks with people they produced a gateaux de rois, we declined first round offers and had a piece after the feve had been claimed, didn’t want to be greedy and perhaps its bad luck to be twice crowned.

Very early boxing day morning Jim and I headed out of Lille without an ounce of dread for the 12 hour drive that lay ahead. And why would we were going to Spain!! Plus we were well prepared, viamichelin was making sure we didnt get lost, xmas left overs ensured we wouldnt go hungry, xmas presents supplied the soundtrack and the wonders of podcasts and a snazzy attachment in the form of a cassette linking the car system to our mp3 meant we had radio national and jjj on tap. And by taking turns driving a nap was always on offer. I remember when I was younger, on road trips, stopping at the servo for petrol, a wee, a sausage roll, twisties and a diet coke, maybe some snakes to share. And no Im not talking family roadtrips here, cant imagine mum letting me eat any of that! Anyway I remember wondering what went on with the oldies sitting in their cars eating sandwiches from home. Fast forward and there I sit, not so old but with a tea towel on my lap eating sandwiches from home as Jim sprinkles salt on his lunch from a little foil pouch I made up. Well as Jim said we are very daggy!

By 10pm that night we are settled into the very groovy yet inexpensive hotel and ready to hit the streets of Barcelona. No fear of having to rush to a restaurant before the kitchen closes, we were in Spain and things were only just getting started. Jim and I headed to a restaurant recommended by the cool male at reception and immediately decided it was a good decision when we enter to be hit by a buzzy crowd of Spaniards, relaxing decor and a very appealling menu. First thing that grabs our attention is how cheap everything is, especially the wine and then its the large group of young spanish women next to us having a xmas celebration, exchanging gifts and exchanging spanish in a completely intoxicating manner. But that was Spain, the whole trip, completely intoxicating and very insistent that you join in. Some cities are patient and let you discover them in your own time in your own way, others try to discourage you preferring to leave their charms hidden from tourists, while some make an audience of you while they perform. I found Spain very welcoming and very inclusive.

Our too short time in Barcelona was spent walking, sightseeing and eating and with not much sleep. When we finally get around to putting our photos on flickr you see all the wonderful sights we saw and some of the wonderful food we ate. To be honest when we looked at our photos when we got home we were both a little disappointed, sometimes you get lucky and the experience is captured just as you would like and other times not, but I hope our memories wont fade. I’m not a big one for clothes shopping when on holidays but I would of liked to have given it a good bash in Barcelona but with so little time I couldnt justify time spent in Zara or Camper no matter how cheap and fabulous the clothing and shoes were. Camper shoes were still somewhat pricey anyway, but Zara was amazing, at least half the price than here in France. Mind you we did find time to go cookbook shopping, we had a recommendation for a specialist store that sold to restaurateurs and would have a few in English. It took a little time to find the store which had a very cute feature, rolling pins as door handles, but is was worth it as the book appears very user friendly, contains all the classics and was a good price. A lot of our meals were eaten at the large covered market off La Rambla, markets are always a priority visit for us when visiting a new city, and this one offered one of my most favourite things. Cafe stalls amongst the food stalls! I cant even explain to myself why this gives me such a thrill but it really does. After visiting Adelaide with Sarah I swear I contemplated moving there just so I could partake in this fabulous activity on a regular basis. While we drank cafe con leche with to die for pastries at 9 in the morning, the fish mongers next to us, who had been up for hours, downed a beer and meatballs, I suspect not balls made from meat but the balls of an animal!

I will confess to falling off the Spanish culinary wagon on one occasion, we were headed to a restaurant we had noticed earlier in the day, but were just way to full to even squeeze in one more Tapas. On the way we passed a very attractive Japanese restaurant, being big fans of Japanese and not having it available to us in Lille we just couldnt resist. It was packed with who we assumed were locals, jammed in on communal tables eating fabulous looking dishes. After taking a seat we soon realized that in fact tourists outweighed the Spaniards. On one side of us were two women who looked and sounded Scandinavian, on the other were a young heavily pierced British couple, of which the female should be banned from sitting at communal tables unless she promises to stop asking inane question to her boyfriend like what do you think is my best feature. She also should learn to recognise the signs that her boyfriend wishes she would shut the f*@# up and do so instead of persisting with the line of questioning and then when he is mute with embarrassment offering up her suggestions! Each person on the table was either starring at her or him but silently asking the same question Why?! Well except Jim who was only attentive to the very good Gyoza and the strangeness of the salty tasting mineral water that is particular to Spain.

The architecture of Barcelona is compelling and heavily punctuated by Gaudi and his mates, though very quiet and graceful pockets can be found hiding throughout. I would very much like to visit again, but if this is not possible it does not matter I’m grateful to of gone at all. Friends who have visited in Summer said they couldnt imagine what Barcelona would be like in Winter and nor us in Summer, but I imagine Barcelona would be amazing at any time of year.

No matter how good a holiday and this one was particularly good, it is always so nice to come home. A bit like the saying for visitors nice when they come, nice when they go. It just means to be happy in the moment, would it not be sad if we were only happy when on holidays or when with people. Anyway I am doing what I knew I would, avoiding talking about our holiday. I seem to find it easy to write of nothing but very difficult to write when there is so much….and there is just so very much to say about Spain. So I will commit to writing about each city we visited over the next few days, tomorrow Barcelona, then Zaragoza, after that Bilbo and then San Sebastian.

In the meantime I have a favour to ask, can someone in Melbourne please go here for me. I first heard of Movida when it was to be found attached to a pub in Nth Melbourne, I tried to make a booking but I had missed the boat and it had closed and was making a move to a more salubrious location in the inner city. And then I never got there with all the back and forth between Europe and Rosebud and getting married and all. And now just having spent the past week in foodie heaven, Spanish tapas bars, I know if we had returned to our other home, Melbourne, after our Spanish holiday this would be our first port of call, a means to lessen the pain of tapas withdrawal.

Here in Lille just a mere minute walk form our apartment there is a tapas bar, we have always been curious but not hopeful. So last night we decided the time had come and so we ventured in and it was as we expected, three times the price of what we would pay in Spain and truly awful. On our budget we have never had an adequate meal in France from a cuisine other than French, with one exception, I had some very good Cantonese duck in Paris. I am not saying Movida could match Spain on price but I’m sure the food would be on par and on a good night the atmosphere may edge somewhat in the right direction. Though as anyone who has been to Spain says there is really nowhere in the world like it. I suspect if a group of thirtysomething mothers in Melbourne were casually drinking outside a bar at midnight with a glass of vino in one hand and rocking a pram with the other child protection would be called. I’ve always warned Jim that I would be staunchly anglo when it came to child rearing and would not adopt mediterranean methods such as carting children from pillar to post at any given hour. But I have to say the vision of those women relaxed, themselves and their sleeping babies surrounded by partners, peers and family participating in the life of their city and not ensconced and isolated at home I did start to wonder.

So I’ll be back tomorrow to write about Barcelona and will get Jim to participate also and if anyone has been to Movida let me know all about it.

p.s I just noted the opening hours of Movida, it closes at 10pm!! Things are only just getting sarted at this hour in Spain!

I just got back from the local market where everyone is busy, including me, buying special xmas fare. The xmas vibe on the streets of Lille is lovely, devoid of that frenetic air that is so permeable in bigger cities. Lille is one of the bigger cities of France, however I think by living in vieux Lille and sticking to the cobblestones, my European rule, no cobblestones no charm, Lille appears much smaller to me than it is. This is a loose truth so no accusations of cloistering please! Anyway I have no idea what im doing on the internet when I have all the joys of baking and other xmas preparations ahead of me. Including last minute dashes for important items like selected cheeses and wines etc. I’ll take the opportunity to acknowledge women(yes it is predominately women) the world over who go to great lengths to make a special Christmas for their loved ones whilst juggling jobs and children and a thousand other things. My hat goes off to you!

I just wanted to share a particularly lovely and very Australian Christmas card we received from our dear friends Heidi & John. I love flowering gum and who doesn’t love a ringtail possum.

A very welcome early Christmas present, my carte de sejour! Jim and I hadn’t ruled out another trip home for me, but it arrived in the nick of time, a visa that gives me health cover and permission to work!!! After all the difficulties we’ve had we cant believe we have it in our hot little hands. And the best part is this time there was no lining up at the Prefecture from 4am to secure a place, yes this is true, things are pretty desperate here in the North(of France) with regard to dealing with visa administration. We were assisted by the very friendly and helpful people from the Kastler Foundation.

So already I have made contact on two fronts for job possibilities, though I am limited for options due to my poor French. I still have my current casual teaching work, with it looking like that may increase next year, however it would be nice to have a proper job with a with a proper income, so think positive thoughts for me.

P.S So what can I say about the photo, I know, it looks like I’ve been caught in headlights! I have no excuse either as the photo booths here in France are very considerate and ask if you approve of the photo taken or if you like another attempt at a more appealing shot. How very French. I always take the first shot regardless as I figure if I head down the track of wanting one I’m happy with I’ll be there all day. I have worse, you should see the photos for my French drivers license.