I’m in charge of packing, organising, booking tickets, and making sure everyone has their coat, bag, teddy, toothbrush and the correct number of limbs.
In real life I’m a solicitor, working (because I don’t make anything easy) for a firm of accountants. I’ve also been an award-winning blogger, chair of the PTA (obviously), director of a housing association, and occasional (and not very tuneful) folk fiddler.
My biggest hope for the trip is that we will all get on brilliantly. My biggest fear (apart from missing limbs – see above) is that we won’t.
Oh, and I’d like the children to come back eating more than just pasta bolognaise…
Here in lockdown we have – we have to have – a routine. We have worked out in the last seven and a half weeks that no routine leads to chaos and chaos leads to shouting and shouting leads to consequences that none of us will enjoy. So we have a routine. Every day, weekends included.
The routine was widely circulated online when lockdowns started worldwide.
However we have no printer, and we’ve also got increasingly poor at getting up in the mornings. Plus the original routine clearly assumes that your children will either a) do all this with absolutely no adult input or supervision or b) do not require food or clean clothes.
But of course our days don’t really look much like that at all. In fact – with occasional additions of door sanding, supermarket shopping, cleaning and gardening – they’re rather more like this:
Sometime after 8.30:
Despite doing very little, we are sleeping longer and later. Maybe it’s a subconscious (unconscious) way of passing the days. The children are even worse…
9.24 Off to the boulangerie. Only one of us. The other gets the fun of shouting at gently encouraging the children downstairs and laying the table.
9.26 Boulangerie trip. Shopping could be worse. Plus this is the only time in the day we speak to anyone else.
9.30 Home with the spoils
9.32. Hand wash. Obviously. Having been outside. Even if the only thing I’ve touched is the bread bag and my own bank card.
9.33 (the timetable is slipping already). Breakfast.
9.55 *voice of doom* WASHING UP.
The dishwasher broke about three days after we arrived here. Dishwasher repairs are not an essential service (though the cheese shop is). A scrupulously fair rota has been discussed and drawn up. I love it (at home guess who does all the washing up?). Some other members of the family are less enthusiastic.
10.05: Socks on. Teeth brushed. Wash your hands again.
10.09: Change the attestation. Off for a walk this time:
10.15 Quick tadpole check.
10.17 (ahead of schedule now – that’s because we didn’t stop to make pizza dough, or do laundry, or engage with the bickering). Walk. It is odd how whatever mood everyone is in when we leave the house, (and after the washing up some of us are often not at our sunniest) we are always in better fettle when we come back. So, whatever the weather, off we head on one of our walks – all within our permitted one hour, one kilometre radius.
11.16: Wash hands in case the virus has been lurking up a forest path.
11.17: Academics (no screens). Ben used to be a teacher and we both have several degrees. But none of that means we’re any good at educating our children. We attempt maths (lots of maths as it turns out our children don’t know half as much maths as their reports would have had us believe), music, writing – all sorts: we love a haiku and this was a great way of getting Lucy’s thank-you-letters done – problem solving (how to get the children to do their work) and quite a lot of pacifying and cat herding.
12 ish (depending entirely on how quick and conflict-free academic time has been): Creative time.
1pm: Lunch. Hopefully outside.
1.45: More washing up. Oh good.
1.55: Thank heavens for “Quiet Time”; it’s honestly everyone’s favourite part of the day. The large amount we’ve now spent on Stephen Fry reading Harry Potter was entirely worth it.
3.06. Or 3.08 or 3.14 or really we should go and get them now shouldn’t we? More antiquated Canadian exercises. For the whole family this time. They love it.
Marshmallows are awarded for a) effort (ie actually doing something) and b) chat (ie not spending the whole time complaining about how someone else isn’t trying hard enough while simultaneously doing nothing yourself (see a)).
The mindfulness I briefly tried to introduce afterwards has been abandoned having met with too much resistance. I still think it would be an excellent thing for all of us so if anyone has any good tips on how to make cynical children enthusiastic about lying still and breathing please do let me know.
3.30: “Screen academics”. The original routine says something like “more academic time, you can use your screens if you like“, but funnily enough our kids choose screens. Every time.
We are in theory each still trying to learn a language on Duolingo (although my enthusiasm for Mandarin Chinese has waned slightly) and so the children do some French (despite their opportunities to practice being limited by not being allowed to talk to anyone else). There are various maths and English programmes they spend time on too. Magnus and Lucy are also adamant that Minecraft is educational. We are not entirely convinced.
4.15: More exercise. Normally our home made circuits.
If it’s very wet or there are vaguely physical chores to be done these are occasionally overlooked. We even did Joe Wicks once. Never again.
4.45 or as soon as possible: Free screen time. Cooking (with a different helper each day). Laundry. Instagram. Everyone in their own little corner doing their own thing. Silence reigns. Unless we can agree on a soundtrack.
6ish: Supper. Often with cheese.
7 or so: Washing up, washing selves, family games, or perhaps a film, moods (normally Ben’s and mine) depending…
By 9: Go away the lot of you! And breathe…
With no television, it’s time for some sophisticated adult entertainment.
The chocolate might make an appearance now too. It helps you sleep. Or something.
Many thanks to them for featuring us – and for picking a picture of me to headline it with (maybe!).
If you’re here for the first time, perhaps from the Border Telegraph link, you can see lots more pictures (of all of us) on Instagram where we post daily as @tweedtotokyo We’d love it if you followed us!
We’re on twitter too, also @tweedtotokyo so do follow there too if twitter is your thing.
We hope you’ve enjoyed what we’ve posted on this blog. We hope to have some more adventurous adventures to write about soon…
This is the week things were supposed to get very exciting. On Sunday evening we should have been on the 22.26 departure from Moscow to Tashkent. We were scheduled to arrive into Tashkent (having travelled through a lot of Russia and quite a bit of Kazakhstan too) on Wednesday (yes, Wednesday) at 16.58. We were to meet Russian friends there, and were all to be staying with Uzbek friends of theirs. We were hugely looking forward to the legendary plov they had promised us and to discovering Tashkent. None of us has ever been anywhere near Uzbekistan before – it’s the first country that would have been new to all of us – and we were hugely looking forward to it.
We should then be leaving Tashkent to take another overnight train to arrive in Urgench tomorrow for a couple of days in Khiva.
What did we actually do?
The Two Point Six Challenge
Our new focus this week was on the Two Point Six Challenge. It should have been the London Marathon last Sunday. This is the world’s biggest one day charity fundraising event and its cancellation will have a massive impact on the income of thousands of charities, small and large. Charities therefore asked people to take on a challenge, based around 2.6 or 26, and to make a donation. We each chose a challenge and a charity.
Magnus went first. He created his own 26 minute playlist and made us all dance (like loons) around the kitchen. He donated his £26.20 to the Shark Trust because he loves sharks.
Harriet went next. She chose the Cure Parkinson’s Trust, and was very proud to hold a plank for 2 minutes and 6 seconds (and actually slightly annoyed with herself for not attempting the full 2.6 minues).
Sophie’s challenge was less, well, challenging. She chose to go on her favourite walk, which is, coincidentally, 2.6 km. It was possibly made slightly more difficult by the fact that it was throwing it down with rain. Her donation went to the WWF for their work with snow leopards.
Ben set himself the toughtest challenge of the lot: to run 5 km in 26 minutes. As he says that is about how fast Mo Farah runs 10km, but Ben is not, for the avoidance of doubt, Mo Farah and it is very hilly here. He found the flattest place in the village, went back and forth was delighted to achieve his time. He donated £26.20 to Mind.
Aurora’s challenge was to do twice 26 skips. She managed 64, and gave her donation to War Child.
Lucy decided to benefit Friends of the Earth but didn’t much fancy their Plank for the Planet idea. Instead she stood on one leg for 26 minutes – 13 minutes on each leg – while learning some French on Duolingo. It was surprisingly impressive.
Our new French friends brought us books. And lovely home-made jam.
It looks likely that when (probably, hopefully, in ten days time) lockdown starts to ease here we will be required to wear face masks in many public places. Clearly these are not easy to buy at the moment, so we found Ben’s granny’s sewing machine (instructions dated 1933) and got sewing. We’ve made four so far…
On Saturday night, six weeks of almost unbroken sunshine came to a dramatic end. We had thunder and lightning and torrential rain. We all ended up huddled in the conservatory watching the storm. It was all a bit Sound of Music, and rather lovely.
The rain has continued, almost as unbroken as the sun before it, all week. We have nonetheless determinedly walked every day. Any resistance was overcome by the incentive of hot chocolate and squirty cream. Ben keeps dropping hints about a green chaud too.
All that rain has done amazing and dramatic things to “our” river.
And Ben has been thoroughly enjoying the “silky water” setting on his phone as a result.
With each new country we have visited we have put a new flag on the car. However, the flags were possibly not designed for 4,000 miles of travel followed by six weeks of sunshine and downpours. They have begun to look rather bedraggled and before his trip to the supermarket on Monday Ben removed them. We are determinedly refusing to see any metaphor in this at all.
On the heels of Harriet’s great sucess in identifying cowslips and oxslips last week, she was rather more horrified to spot Japanese Knotweed this week. We are now washing our feet as well as our hands when we return home from our walks. The locals however seem to be undisturbed by it. In fact we were cheerily told that you can make jam from it. Harriet is not (yet) bored enough to try that.
After a dramatic surge by Ben the Trivial Pursuit score stands at 8:7 to Harriet. Rumours that Ben has been revising in the middle of the night remain unconfirmed.
Ben ignored wailing and gnashing of teeth from Aurora and Sophie and shaved off his beard.
We had lots of fun with Lucy’s birthday present of polymer clay. Harriet has been experimenting with making millefiori flowers with varying degrees of success. She’s not going to be giving it all up and moving to Murano just yet. She’s got to work out what to do with all the little plastic beads she’s made here first.
We found a simple solution to a simple problem and bought a cable so we can print from our phones. This has opened up a whole world of worksheet and colouring in possibilities.
On Monday, entirely on her own, Aurora identified a Duplo on eBay. Until then she had been adamant that she did not want another one. She’s still clear that Duplo A can never be replaced, but she was also clear that she did want to buy this one – despite, in the way of second-hand soft toys being held to ransom by eBay sellers, it costing way more than it would have done new. So we did.
Aurora was keen that the seller, Ade, should know how much the new Duplo (to be called Greg) would be loved, so we wrote to him explaining what had happened to Duplo A and telling him how pleased Aurora was to have found Greg.
Harriet woke up yesterday morning to an email from Ade. He had read Aurora’s email and wants to give Greg to her. He has, entirely unasked, refunded us everything we paid. He made Harriet cry. Unlooked for kindness of the most genuine sort from someone we are unlikely ever to meet. If you live in the Midlands and know someone called Ade, he (or maybe she) is a wonderful person.
The tooth mouse, which clearly, despite what you might expect, knows absolutely nothing about good dental health, took away Sophie’s lost tooth and brought her the traditional enormous meringue.
How was it?
Magnus: I liked talking to Joe. It was fun watching the thunderstorm. It was cool. The pizzas were yummy.
Sophie: I’m super happy about the new Duplo, because he’s going to be my baby boy (even though he’s going to be Aurora’s, but we practically share our teddies now). I’m glad we watched the movie, even though the Horrible Histories movie was a bit weird. Mummy watched (and approved) Clueless, so I’m looking forward to that. I’ve liked listening to Harry Potter, but things have pretty much been the same.
Ben: This week has felt calmer, and I have felt better in my head this week, and I think been a better parent and husband too. It is good to feel that there are signs that lockdown is going to ease, at least here. We are a long way from being able to plan further travels yet, but the first steps (cracks in the dam?) are very welcome. We even had an post-deconfinement invitation to dinner at an old friend’s in Grenoble (thank you!) which is a lovely thing to look forward to.
I was delighted (and a bit surprised) to achieve my 26.2 challenge. We have had good video-chats with friends this week too. The change in the weather has been fine too – I love a walk in the rain, and the smells and surge of new greenery are some of the things which make me very happy to be here, even if I don’t really want to be here right now.
Lucy: I love the fact that during our “quiet time” we have been listening to the Battle of Hogwarts scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on the 2nd May, which is exactly 22 years to the day after it “happened”.
I have been enjoying making polymer clay things. Aurora’s cakes were delicious. I highly recommend The Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, by Holly Jackson, which I finished this week. It was a bit like Geek Girl, by Holly Smale, but with more plot.
Harriet: I am an utterly rubbish dancer, but I have thoroughly enjoyed dancing round the kitchen on not one, but two, occasions this week.
I enjoyed our 2.6 challenge. It was really nice to have a focus for each day.
I was moved to tears by Ade’s kindness and generosity. I had hoped he might enjoy reading Auroras blog post but the idea that he might decide to forgo income, particularly now, had never occurred to me. There is something about the kindness of strangers that is particularly magical.
I think we are all getting on better and learning to be less aggressive in how we speak to each other. Aurora has shown astonishing determination and self-control in not bickering for ten days now. It is a calmer and nicer house, and I think I am a calmer and nicer person, as a result.
I felt a burst of uncomplicated happiness walking in the rain and jumping up and down in muddy puddles.
Aurora: I liked baking the cakes and playing playing Stratego with Daddy. I liked doing my skipping. We named my new Duplo Greg, after Sandie’s husband. (Sandie gave me my new teddy and we named her after Sandie.) It was lovely that Ade decided to give the new Duplo to us.
I’m really close to getting TikTok [for 14 consecutive days of no bickering], so yay.
Lucy: My pom-pom getting wet and then drying funnily on the radiator.
Aurora: Duplo not being here. Magnus not doing his exercises properly really annoys me. It’s been a pretty good week.
Harriet: In quiet moments this week I have been feeling very sad. I was really looking forward to being the person who did this astonishing thing, who had this wonderful adventure, and now I’m not that person and probably never will be. I suppose to a certain extent I am mourning the loss of that amazing person. I really wanted to be her.
Sophie: Us fighting, not much, but some squabbles. The rain hasn’t been too bad.
Ben: The front door remains resolutely unsanded, unvarnished and challenges me every day to do something about it.
And I’d rather be in Uzbekistan today.
Magnus: I hate being interviewed for this post.
What did we eat?
Pomegranate (the first we have seen in seven weeks of looking) Pineapple. Pizzas. Naan (with a silent p?). Blondies (made by Aurora). Everyone has taken turns in helping to cook – and occasionally found out quite how frustrating it is when people don’t eat what you’ve prepared…
How are the tadpoles?
Possibly maligned… They may not have been eating each other quite as voraciously as we thought – although we did of course see them at it at least once. In any event numbers seem to be back up again. Maybe they were just hiding.
They had an exciting time in the thunderstorm too. The sudden downpour clearly took them by surprise, as the next morning we found several of them trapped in the engraved lettering on the edge of the bird bath. A bit of careful rescuing with a leaf saw them back where they belonged. One, though, has managed to get her (him) self into an entirely different section, where she remains in solitary state. Do tadpoles get lonely?
This week came the announcement of the initial lifting of the lockdown in France. After May 11 we will be allowed to go further afield and for longer than an hour. We won’t be able to leave our departement or go further than 100km, but we will be able to visit the reopened shops in Grenoble, or head into the hills for longer walks (the children are delighted).
In a sense though that gets us no further. France was never the aim, and until some of the other countries we want to visit open up, we remain stuck here. We are still, though, not yet half way through our planned six months, so we live in hope of getting somewhere, at some point, though when and where remains to be seen.
As with Slovenia, I realised fairly shortly after we arrived in France that our Scandinavian plans were doomed. So rather than carry my Norwegian book all the way home with me unread, I thought I’d read it here.
After my French book, which I read in both English and French, and felt, in English, slightly patronised by the translator (more of him later) giving me all sorts of information that wasn’t in the French original, here I had to eat my words (in whatever language they were).
Will and Testament, by Vigdis Hjorth and translated by Charlotte Barslund, is about, in the sense that is about anything, an inheritance dispute between an estranged daughter and the rest of her family. The problem is, and this may be just because I’m a private client lawyer, so if there is one topic I know anything about it is inheritance disputes, it didn’t make sense to me. I wanted a brief primer on Norwegian inheritance and gift tax law because without it the actual reason for the argument was meaningless. There were tax implications that everyone got very het up by, but if you don’t understand the tax rules in question it is perhaps difficult to empathise or indeed understand.
But that is perhaps both not the point, and also not true for the majority of readers who aren’t private client lawyers. I could see why it won awards – Berglot (I wish someone had told me how to pronounce her name too) is a very believable character, perhaps because at times her narration is so unreliable, contradictory and, indeed, unbelievable. Something awful has happened to her, years ago (and I did believe that, although not everyone in the book does), and she is still trying to process it. She goes over and over both it and the actions she has taken as a consequence, taking decisions that she then doesn’t follow through on, and repeating herself, but changing the facts as she does. We all know people like that. We are all like that, although hopefully without the trauma. I felt very sorry for her, while finding her hugely irritating. I am ashamed to say that I suspect in that situation I would have been one of her sisters. If you read it you will see what an admission that is.
I didn’t bring this with me. It was here already. In fact I had read it before, although had forgotten. But it is Swedish and it was in English and it was nice and tightly plotted with a neat resolution at the end. I’m not a fan of gruesome murder (give me a tidy Agatha Christie where they all gather over a cup of tea in the drawing room at the end) but this passed the time. I thought the title was anoying though. Wallander kept saying that he had been Sidetracked but it seemed to me that what he was actually doing was reasonably following clues. This strikes me (from a position of absoutely no knowledge) as being more Sensible Policing but I guess that’s not such a snappy title.
All, and none, of the above
In one of my many parallel universes (there’s one where I’m a doctor, one where I own a cake shop, one where I don’t have any children. There’s coronavirus in none of them) I am a literary translator from French. (There’s another one where I’m a literary translator from French and Russian but that’s so far-fetched as to be almost beyond even the parallel worlds theory).
Anyway, the point is that I am in a very small minority of people who think that literary translation is a cool thing to do. I actually remember fondly (no really) my finals paper which required us to translate a page of Tintin. If I’d had more confidence maybe I’d have expressed that interest to my lecturers…. I didn’t though, and here we are…
Anyway, after my mini-rant about translation, my brother sent me this book. It is all about that dark art of and is, not entirely conicidentally, by David Bellos, the translator of the French book I took slight issue with.
I found it fascinating. There are times when he was, to my taste, too philosophical on the question of the difference between what translation is and what it does, and hewas occasionally a little disingenuous, bolstering his argument by reference to books he himself had translated. I also found the (it seemed to me) entirely random use of italics in the chapter headings extremely irritating. Maybe I was just missing something.
But hot on the heels of my frustration at not having the knowledge of Norwegian tax law necessary fully to appreciate Vigdis Hjorth’s book, and living in a country where I sort of speak the language, but not quite well enough, I found most of it riveting. How do I make myself understood and what am I missing when I fail to catch one word in twenty? How much of an “original” is “lost in translation”? What does that even mean? It was interesting too to have the difficulty I have found in obtaining English translations from minority languages put into numbers: in the decade to 2009, 80% of all translations from seven major world languages were from English. 8% were into English. No wonder I couldn’t find a Slovenian book. Wish me luck with Kyrgyz.
The UK and other anglophone places
And now we’re into “I need something to read, what can I find to read? Oh no, that’s a book I brought here and left three years ago and I didn’t much like it then” territory. So I am reading what I can get my hands on, and writing about it here as much for something to do as anything else.
I should have known really. I wanted something light and easy and look at the cover. The Daily Mail said it was “wonderful”. It is certainly wondrous that it was a bestseller.
This, on the other hand, was excellent. A friend sent it to me, with a pile of books for the children too. I’m usually much more a reader of fiction (the cliché of the middle-aged, middle-class woman) but this I thought really was “wonderful”. It’s hard to say that I “enjoyed” it, as it’s a series of horrific stories of lives undervalued, abused and wasted, even before they were brought to an end by brutal murder. It made me think a lot about who we value, and why, and about naming the perpetrators of crimes. It did feel, in places, rather speculative, which is no reflection on the clearly enormous amount of scholarship, and mounds of archives that Hallie Rubenhold has clearly gone through, but more that these lives weren’t valued enough to be recorded. So we can never know what happened to these women for periods of months or years, or how they felt or what they said. It is understandable therefore that there were some sections that felt perhaps too presumptive of what “must have” happened.
This notwithstanding, I came away convinced that whatever they were or did (and three of them were not and had never been prostitutes – and in any event even if they were that should not then, or now, have mattered), or where they went and who with, they deserved to have their stories told.
From real murder to fictional. Nicci French is (are? She is really a husband and wife team) hugely popular but I had never read one of her novels before. Parts of this I thought were brilliant. There is a minor character who talked about anxiety and panic in a way that rang terrifyingly true. But I felt let down by the denouement. Perhaps, in this uncertain time, I just wanted a resolution, but it felt as though she didn’t bring the plot to an end because she knew there was another book coming (and another, and another). As I won’t be reading any of them, I felt slightly cheated. Ironically, if she had resolved it, I probably would have picked up more of her books in future. But now I’m cross. So I won’t.
Both geographically and literarily: who knows? I do still have my Russian book (Anna Akhmatova), my Uzbek book (The Devil’s Dance) and my Japanese book (The Pure Land – the only one not actually written by someone from the country, but given to me by a friend as a leaving present) but I am still, perhaps foolishly, hoping that I may one day read those in their countries and so haven’t picked them up yet. That may change.
After five lovely days in St Petersburg, where we celebrated Lucy’s birthday, we got a very late overnight train to Moscow, arriving early on Wednesday morning. We’ve had a great few days in Moscow, visiting friends and Harriet has bored everyone rigid visiting old haunts and talking about things she did here as a student over twenty years ago and how it was all very different then. (But it was). We had a fantastic Georgian meal too. We leave on Sunday on our first epic train journey.
What did we really do?
On Tuesday we acquired a teenager! Any other parents will understand that your children’s constant insistence on getting older is, despite everything, always a surprise. And just like that Lucy is suddenly 13.
It obviously wasn’t the day we had planned, but it was, we think, a good day nonetheless. We broadly stuck to the routine, but with more food and less exercise (we are aware that that’s not how it’s supposed to work).
Lucy chose our walking route, and Magnus very grown-up-ly didn’t object, though he wanted to. We did some birthday learning, with poems and acrostics about Lucy. Aurora wrote her a coded message (although given the date it wasn’t enormously difficult to decipher). Lunch had the bonus treat of a pudding, cobbled together from a tin of pears (still in date) we found in the cupboard, some ice cream and the caramel sauce Ben had bought in the hope it would substitute for golden syrup (it won’t).
More Harry Potter in the afternoon, and then a long chat for the birthday girl with her friends before a special birthday treat of no circuits. Then more chats with family in the UK before cocktails, a barbecue (as mostly requested by Aurora), marshmallows, singing and cake.
Then a family film. We all started to watch The Hate U Give, which was Lucy’s choice of film, as she’d read the book. Magnus gave up fairly quickly (it’s a 12 so that was perhaps to be expected) but the rest of us enjoyed it and it has given rise to some interesting conversations with the girls on our walks over the next couple of days.
All in all, hopefully not the worst way to turn 13. And at least she probably got a better night’s sleep than she would have done on the 11.52 departure from St Petersburg to Moscow.
And the rest
Harriet learned the difference between a cowslip and an oxslip. This was exciting for her but no-one else.
Lots of parcels arrived- many for Lucy but also randomly, unexpectedly and generously from friends, and Ben’s long awaited t-shirts. He’d bought Harriet one too. It is worryingly appropriate for present activities. As is Ben’s. Sadly.
Ben had a horrid trip down the hill to the DIY shop to buy the wherewithal to sand and re-varnish the front door. He got most of what he wanted but came back unenthusiastic about any further shopping trips.
The beech trees are coming into leaf, and at a distance the uniform dark blue-green of the pines is now interspersed with acid brightness. Close up they flash in patches of light that make the woods look pixilated.
We met – at a safe social distance – a very nice Anglo-French couple. Ben was particularly delighted that they didn’t spot he wasn’t French for the first five minutes of chat.
We did round two of our quiz with friends in Yorkshire. Sophie and Lucy tied for first place and after a nail-biting tie-breaker (How many rooms in Buckingham Palace?), Lucy was declared the winner. Useful lessons on many levels (and none about Her Majesty’s interior decor).
The trivial pursuit score stands at 8:4. Harriet remains in the lead.
Magnus has started reading to his cousin by video link. The book of choice is Bad Dad by David Walliams. They both seem to be enjoying it…
Ben discovered a new app which told him about a walk we hadn’t yet been on. It appeared to be well within our 1 kilometre radius and doable within our hour time limit. One of those things was true. The children preferred the downhill to the up.
Our photo completion was selfies. It was utterly hilarious but proved that we are very definitely two different generations.
We met all sorts of interesting creatures: an adder, some stunning lizards, massive beetles, and the mouflon again. She’s now six weeks old.
In further generation-gap news, we had an Instagram related incident. It turns out that the lure of more followers is greater than the fear of breaking the “don’t let anyone who you don’t know in real life follow you” rule. No actual harm was done, but words were had. Whether we yet understand each other’s motivations, hopes and fears is still to be seen.
We all watched Star Wars Episode IX. Magnus thought it was amazing. The rest of us are pleased to be able to say we’ve seen it.
We were interviewed by the Border Telegraph. We wait with bated breath to see what they say about us. We should hit the newsstands next Wednesday or possibly the one after. No news from the BBC though.
We had fun with dandelion clocks. Sorry, gardeners of the Chartreuse.
We discovered, somewhat to our horror, that two of our children don’t know where half the places we’ve visited are (“Is that the capital of Vienna?”). Some fairly intensive geography/recapping is planned.
When asked to write about our time in Amsterdam (capital of the Netherlands, if you’re wondering), Sophie came up with: As long as your mother doesn’t make you a salad sandwich with butter in it, it is a wonderful, inspiring city with lots to do.
Ben took on the jelly baby jigsaw and won.
How was it?
Lucy: My birthday, especially talking to my friends. I got some really nice books that I’m really enjoying. I have enjoyed reading to Sophie and Aurora.
Painting rocks has been fun, and I want to do a llama and a turtle soon.
Meeting a real mouflon was a treat, though it didn’t look at us in a trusting fashion, I think because it had only come into human society when people didn’t talk to each other.
Because I am 13, I can now access YouTube, which is great, though I haven’t seen it all yet.
I enjoyed winning the quiz.
Sophie: I liked watching The Hate U Give – it’s a really good film. I also liked being the person who spotted the snake.
I loved Lucy’s birthday because we did lots of fun stuff. The marshmallows, Aurora’s face when she broke her cocktail glass,
I had fun facetiming my good friend.
Ben: Lucy’s birthday was a great pleasure, and I hope and think she enjoyed it too. I don’t think it mattered that some of the presents had not arrived, indeed some still haven’t, and the arrivals later in the week were nice too. The Hate U Give was easily the best film we have watched together since the trip started (Star Wars 9 was pants).
Our long walk was lovely, despite being too long by 14 minutes, with views I have never seen, and great fauna too.
I have not laughed as much as during our selfie photo competition day for a long time, which was very welcome.
It is nice to finally have a new t-shirt too.
Aurora: Lucy’s birthday was awesome. I just liked making the mocktails – I crushed the ice, and was taster. I’d been waiting to have marshmallows for about 100 years, and they were finished in, like, 5 days.
I liked both the movies, although in Star Wars loads of dead people came alive and it was really weird. The Hate U Give was really good. I liked it.
Magnus: Lucy’s birthday was probably the best thing that happened this week because of the cake, chocolate and burgers.Star Wars was good.
Harriet: This remains a beautiful place to be. Lucy’s birthday was good fun and we had a lovely meal together. It was incredibly touching that so many friends and family made the effort to make it special for her. Our walks continue to be the highlight of my day. My crochet is coming on very nicely.
Magnus (very reluctantly): This blog post. It’s so boring. I want to go home because home is much better. Our house is much better because it’s got a bigger garden we can run around in. This garden is just flowers.
Aurora: Duplo, still.
It’s really hard not bickering with Lucy and Magnus, but I really want Tiktok. If I don’t bicker with them for two weeks, I can have Tiktok. I’m up to 5 days, and I hate it because it’s so difficult.
I didn’t like the big walk – Sophie kept whinging.
Geography was just so annoying. I just can’t get it.
Harriet: I think I have generally found this week easier (famous last words). Of course neither travelling nor lockdown means that “ordinary” parenting stops and with a new teenage and two pre-teen girls in the house we have many moments. Education has been the top worry this week, along with the near-constant, low-level bickering. I don’t cope with either very well, but am trying to take a long view. I find it very hard, when the children are in a bad mood, to work out whether this is a symptom of a real underlying unhappiness that needs properly to be addressed, or just a momentary grumpiness that will pass long before I’ve managed to get over the mood of gloom it has introduced to the house.
Sophie: I’m missing my friends a lot, and I didn’t like the big steep walk. I don’t like when we fight.
Lucy: We have run out of yellow paint, which makes rock painting more difficult, especially when I want to do an Easter chick for someone.
Ben: My moods have veered between acceptance and some fairly low moments.
I think I’ve not been the best parent or husband I can be this week, which doesn’t fill me with pride.
The trip to the DIY store was stressful in ways I had not expected. I’m not a natural DIY person (more of a YDI person, really), so that didn’t help, but there was 5-person-only in the shop policy, with a large queue outside (politely) awaiting the one-in-one-out. Lots of face masks, no poster or acrylic paint, and a failed credit card transaction which then showed up as paid twice (all ok now), then a trip to a supermarket which doesn’t exist anymore, and I came home lower than (I) expected.
After the realisation that at least two of us couldn’t name the capital of Belgium, didn’t know the difference between a continent and a country, could in no way accurately describe where we had been, and more importantly didn’t appear to care, I had a couple of sleepless nights worrying about our children’s education – past, present and future – before taking some steps to remedy bits of this. They now know the capital of Belgium, which is a step in the right direction.
How are the tadpoles?
Eating each other. Although we had read about this it was quite disturbing to see.
The two groups in the bird bath are much fewer in number than they were – and we actually spotted them mid-munch earlier this week. The outside sink crew are still very numerous so I am wondering if the “right thing” to do is to release some of them into the wild. We can’t take them back to where we found them as it is beyond our permitted area, but we have identified a suitable puddle. Hmm. The responsibility is weighing on us.
No legs yet either.
What did we eat? How much plastic did we use?
Cake. Lots of cake. And burgers and millionaire’s shortbread (condensed milk in France comes in a tube) and marshmallows. Ice cream “sundaes” too.
We had cocktails and champagne as well (if you can’t drink champagne when your eldest child turns 13, when can you?)
Plus the usual round of veggie curries and tagines, croissants and pasta. Oh and cheese.
For the fifth week in a row we remain in exactly the same place. Tomorrow we will have been here for the same amount of time as we were previously travelling.
Where should we have been?
When you left us last week we should have been staying in Oslo with friends. Aurora in particular was totally delighted to be with her BFF. We celebrated Easter with them, before heading off on two trains and a rail replacement bus service (have to admit to not being entirely devasted to miss that one) from Oslo to Stockholm.
Then two days in Stockholm, staying in a hostel which would have been a new experience on this trip (and a new experience full stop for four of us). On Wednesday night we got another overnight ferry to Turku, which is on the West Coast of Finland (as recommended by Harriet’s brother). An afternoon in beautiful Turku (where the weather was stunning) and then a bus to Helsinki.
On Friday we got a train to St Petersburg, where we are until Lucy’s birthday on Tuesday.
What was new and exciting this week?
None of the above, clearly: no trains, no boats, no galleries, no friends.
But we have not done nothing:
The Easter bunny came, leaving little offerings all round the garden. We have, now, just about finished all of them, although an excess of yeast (sounds unpleasant) means that we may accidentally have to make some more not cross buns later this week or next.
We received lovely letters from friends. And some parcels to be opened by Lucy next week.
Sophie and Aurora dyed their hair magenta.
After a request for “no more circuits” we tried Joe Wicks’ PE lesson. It was universally agreed that it was harder and he was more annoying than circuits. We will be going back to circuits.
The flag irises are out in the garden and looking stunning.
Our walks continue to provide exercise, distraction and endless beauty. Top interesting moment this week: half a snake.
Magnus’ godfather organised an online quiz with his kids. The Campbells sadly failed to claim the coveted Loo Roll Trophy but a great time (and a lot of shouting) was had by all, even if Magnus disputed a key answer on the Superhero round….
Sophie and Lucy each had a day “in charge”. Lucy gave everyone a notional £500 to buy presents for everyone else (more generous than her parents) and we enjoyed seeing what we were “bought”. Ben is going to be playing a lot of lego.
We earned our keep by doing lots, and lots, of gardening. Some of us are more enthusiastic than others.
When we made our epic dash here from Vienna we had the idea that the children would use this time to learn French. Of course what we failed to realise is that as the children aren’t allowed to talk to anyone other than us, they’re not exactly getting much exposure to French. They’ve been rather unimpressed by our brief moments of speaking only French (although given that French is what we use when we don’t want them to understand, there could be benefits or other consequences to this, which they don’t seem to have worked out). This week we tried a new tactic and Ben has now labelled all the important things in the house….
Magnus has started reading a story to his cousin by video.
We started gathering and painting stones to put in one of the newly cleared flower beds (as approved by our landlords!)
The Trivial Pursuit score is currently 5:2 to Harriet. She is not smug about this at all. Ben is not at all peeved about it either.
Ben decided enough hair was enough and got his father’s ancient set of clippers out.
Aurora has done a deal: if she doesn’t bicker with her siblings for two weeks she can download tiktok. This is day 2 (and day one went through on a whisper and a prayer).
How was it?
Lucy: Easter. Because Easter. It’s got chocolate. Stone painting. I felt it was really nice, especially when we were doing it all together. I enjoyed my day in charge and I think everyone else did too. I tried to make sure that everyone had something that they would enjoy. The weather has been lovely.
Sophie: I liked Easter. We got chocolate. I liked painting rocks. I also liked getting letters from and writing to Jo and Harry. I like my hair. I didn’t like the dying process because Mummy pulled my hair and my head went slightly pink but I love it now. I love Daddy being a dog.
Ben: The weather has continued to be lovely, as have the food, the drink and the panorama. I’m thoroughly enjoying my current book (Lotharingia, by Simon Winder), though I should have probably read it during our time in the Netherlands, Belgium or western Germany, given that’s what it is about. None of us is ill, which is certainly to be welcomed, and Isère remains relatively lightly affected by COVID-19.
I was pleased to be able to complete my target 10km within the legally prescribed hour-limit on Monday morning, scraping home by the skin of my teeth with 18 seconds to spare. I might have to try to improve. I’m still enjoying getting fitter and stronger and losing weight, despite eating lots (and Easter).
Magnus: I liked Easter. Definitely. Because we eat chocolate and chocolate is yummy. I liked the brightly coloured lizard we saw. I enjoy reading to Amos because it is Bad Dad which is a good book about cars.I like painting rocks. My new t-shirt is awesome.
Aurora: When Daddy ate all my chocolate. It was really funny. I gave him a tiny bit and he just took the rest of my bunny. It was so funny. I liked dying my hair. I liked Easter because we had loads of food. Simon’s quiz was fun and it was good to talk to Isabel and Olivia.
Harriet: Pollyanna alert: the extra four weeks of lockdown gives us a better chance of seeing our tadpoles fully mature (this was a small but real concern). In a similar making-the-most-of-it-vein, not being able to sleep one night meant I saw the mountain at its most spectacular. The weather has continued to be glorious. This would be so much worse if it was pouring every day. I really enjoyed painting stones. I am definitely fitter than I was (not difficult, really.)
Sophie: Not having any ankle socks that aren’t in the wash. The French labels are fine but it’s a bit annoying because everywhere you look there’s one and I don’t like it.
Lucy: The glitchiness of WordPress is really annoying.
Ben: Confirmation that we will be here for at least another 4 weeks took a while to sink in, despite not being unexpected, but has not been pleasant. I don’t expect that I’m alone in feeling a bit trapped and uncomfortable, as the worldwide lockdowns continue, but I have found myself being a bit petulant and grumpy. I think that has contributed to poor reactions on my part to some niggly situations.
I have been excessively checking the post for a pair of t-shirts I ordered over 2 weeks ago, and reacting with slightly shameful jealousy when packages arrive for others, especially when Magnus’s t-shirt (which I ordered after mine) arrived. [But thank you to all of you for letters – they bring joy to us all.]
I cooked a tartiflette this week, which I normally love, but I didn’t boil the potatoes for long enough, so it was a bit rubbish, and given the reaction it got, we probably won’t have it again. Grrr.
There’s something too about having achieved various lockdown goals I’ve set myself – whether it’s the running thing, or getting to the top league on Duolingo (a language app) – and being a bit “prowly” looking for something else to fill the days, and trying not to think about the missed / postponed / longed-for / receding possibility of the countries we had planned to visit. That jellybaby jigsaw is keeping me occupied in fits and starts, but let’s face it, jigsaws are just jigsaws.
I might well bite off more than I can chew and attempt to renovate the heavy wooden front door next week. That should shut me up.
Aurora: I am still missing Duplo. I didn’t like Joe Wicks it was really boring and hard. Some of my friends at home are annoying me and so is Magnus. My knee hurts.
Magnus: I have no idea. Fighting, but I don’t want to say that because I say fighting every week. I don’t have anything else bad to say.
Harriet: I found Macron’s announcement of a further one month extension to our lockdown (which, if anyone is comparing, will mean that France has been locked down for 8 weeks as against the UK’s 6) very difficult to take. I know it is the right thing, but on a personal level it makes the hope of our travels continuing recede ever further. This is not something we can easily postpone until next year (for all that we could then go to the Olympics) – there were years of planning and saving and negotiating with employers to get to this point. We can hardly take the children out of school again. This was a once in a lifetime event and it has been, at best, changed beyond recongntion. There is a part of me that is very angry about that.
Even the things that some people are enjoying about lockdown aren’t necessarily “good things” to us: My brother-in-law said to us that he is quite enjoying not having to get on a commuter train or travel for work and instead having time to spend with his family; many of the children’s friends are loving not having to go to school. We can of course see that these are good things and at home we would be enjoying them too. Indeed we are enjoying them here, but we had set aside this six month period to do exactly that. So while it is a good thing, for us it is not a consolation for the dreams we have lost.
Generally my emotions are very variable. Mostly (my family may disagree) my rational, sensible side is to the fore and I know, and believe, how fortunate we are. Sometimes, particularly if the children are fighting or being difficult (unhappy, recalcitrant, argumentative unenthusiastic, sullen, phone-obsessed, delete as applicable) I sink into what can feel very much like despair. It passes, as these things do, but it’s not much fun for any of us.
The passing overhead of military aircraft which we believe are transporting the ill to Grenoble and other nearby hospitals (Isère has a comparatively low infection rate), was a timely reminder of how lucky we are.
How are the tadpoles?
Our frogs-to-be are continuing to thrive, although oddly one of the groups of bird bath residents seems to be fewer in number. We can’t work out if they’re just shy and hiding at the bottom or if something is eating them (possibly at night), or even, horrors, if they’re eating each other. There’s no sign of bodies so they may just be hiding.
They certainly don’t seem traumatised. Their eyes are visible and they are becoming more froggy in shape. In the sunlight they are flecked golden and shimmer. They seem to enjoy turning upside down at the surface and their mouths open and shut, presumably as they eat microscopic things off the surface of the water. They remind me of lambs as they butt up to the side of the pond to feed and wiggle their tails.They are (proud mother – honestly, it’s like having another baby) visibly pooing.
Any new foods? Plastic update?
A lot of Easter chocolate, of varying quality, a mediocre tartiflette, some good vegetable curries, excellent cheese (a Tomette de brebis was/is a winner), saucissons from the still-open local Sunday market, and plenty of beans. The live yeast naan breads that we are having this evening are exploding as I type.
La Crystal IPA from the Brasserie de Mont Blanc is going down well, better than the tizer-like Aperol mix I thought might work well. Lots of tea.
Squadrons of fruit pots and yoghurts as well as plastic bottles of milk is not helping the eco-friendliness situation, but it remains much as previous weeks.
The French lockdown has been exended for another four weeks (from last Monday) so we will be here until 11 May at the earliest. What happens then will depend on what is then allowed in France and all the other countries we still hope to travel to.
But we remain safe and healthy and we continue to comply with all lockdown requirements. The surroundings could be a lot worse.
Where should we have been?
We hesitate slightly to put this in here, but we sort of want to keep track of what could have, should have happened. If it starts to depress us too much. We’ll stop.
So, in the Covid-19 free parallel universe, on Sunday, after a lovely five days in Paris (where we enjoyed meeting friends) and armed with new Mongolian visas, we got a late train to Mannheim. We changed trains there (at about 11.30 pm – no one was scratchy and tired at all) and got our first overnight train (all six of us in one compartment) arriving in Hamburg for breakfast (some of us had hamburgers – because we “had to!”).
Then on to another train to arrive in Copenhagen for lunch, as you do. Two and a half great days with friends there who we hadn’t seen since we got married. Then on to an overnight boat to arrive in Oslo yesterday morning. We are staying with more friends – including one of Aurora’s best friends: she’s been waiting for this bit all trip.
What did we do?
Much of this week was the same as the previous three, but here are the bits that were different, and the things we learned:
Gel nail polish does not set properly in the sun.
At our sister-in-law’s suggestion, we filled in one of those “tell us your story” boxes on the BBC sport website: Have your plans to go to the Olympics changed because of the Coronavirus? We got a very speedy email back from a journalist and Harriet ended up being interviewed over Skype on Tuesday. We will let you know as and when we have a moment of fame.
Ben completed a jigsaw that is so hard it is only attempted once every twenty years. Actual fact.
The tooth mouse (we’re in France, no fairies here) is still operating despite Coronavirus. We do not know if mice are suceptible to the virus, but we trust it washed its hands.
Some years ago we were here on holiday and Sophie’s tooth fell out. The tooth mouse came and left her a €2 coin (excellent exchange rate from the tooth mouse there) and in the morning, a parent, who shall remain nameless, took her to the boulangerie and, in the spirit of excellent dental health, allowed her to spend her new coin on anything she liked. She came back with a meringue the size of her head which she proceeded to eat for breakfast….
Apparently this is now a tradition.
Five out of six of us have now downloaded MarioKart. We compete against each other. Some of us consistently come last.
We spent a lot of time and had a lot of fun exploring the river at the bottom of the hill. Shoes and socks don’t dry as quickly in the sun as you might think.
Skipping is like riding a bike. You really don’t forget, even after a thirty year hiatus.
The hawthorn on the way down to the river is bursting into a froth of white blossom.
Aurora had a day in charge. She set her own schedule (presentation not her finest point), designed an academic schedule (write about your dream holiday… Erm… Not having a pandemic would be a start), planned and helped cook the meals and sadly didn’t manage to beat Ben at Risk.
Magnus wowed us with his holiday descriptions. Spelling notwithstanding.
Ben met a baby mouflon (prehistoric sheep) in the mini-market.
It has been too hot to sit in the sun without burning (we are factor 50 types and that was another thing we planned to buy en route – even we didn’t need it in Germany in February). We could call that a bad thing, but our vitamin D stores are loving it.
The 1984-era Trivial Pursuit set has come out for late-night competitiveness. Harriet is currently 2:1 up.
About seven and a half years ago, and about three weeks after we came up with the idea of this trip, Harriet bought herself an Olympic t-shirt in Sainsbury’s. It was on sale as the Olympics were over. It has sat, unworn, in her drawer and then rucksack ever since waiting to be worn at the Olympics this Summer. With the Olympics now postponed, and the weather really too warm for merino, it came out this week. It already has hair dye (Aurora and Sophie) on it.
Magnus also had a day in charge. We’re in the middle of it as we type. We’re having fondu for supper and then challenging each other on Mario Kart. Plus ça change…
Our photo competition this week, in which we were inspired to recreate classic paintings, was a huge success and lots of fun to do.
How was it?
Harriet: The weather has been glorious. It is so good to spend time outside in the sun. Some of our walks have been wonderful as a result, albeit short. It has been fantastic watching the children explore down by the river – we are so lucky to have that within five minutes (downhill anyway) of the front door. Our photo competition was brilliant. I’m so chuffed with all of the results and they really were all properly collaborative efforts.I was very proud of my hot cross buns!
Sophie: We’re about to have Fondue tonight. Aurora’s day was more fun than normal days, I’m not sure exactly why, but it just was. Being a cherub was fun, and clambering about in the river to get Lucy’s photo was good too. My friend Zara sent us girls some nice bracelets.
Ben: Having little variation to the days, and very few obligations, has been both a blessing a curse. As far as the blessing part goes (this is the good bits bit after all) our walks, the weather, the food, and the views remain spectacular. I loved our recreations of artworks, and the reactions they got.
My runs have been getting longer, and I have enjoyed feeling healthier. The simple pleasure of a clean house is also not to be sniffed at, especially when you have as many allergies as me.
Lucy: It was lovely to feel thought about getting bracelets. It seems daft but I enjoyed Daddy bringing Head and Shoulders 2in1 from the supermarket. The river has been really fun and an enjoyable way to spend the morning. The video call to Ele was a nice way to see them [Ben’s parents]. We found the best way to listen to Harry Potter during quiet time without arguing – with Sophie and Aurora on the bed drawing and me making pom-poms on the armchair. Hot Cross Buns.
Aurora: Hot Cross Buns, and I liked bossing people about on my day in charge. Watching Jumanji was fun. I am looking forward to Fondue tonight. I had a good facetime with Maia and others. I enjoyed dressing the same as Sophie for a day.
Magnus: I enjoyed everyone joining MarioKart tour and racing against them. I waited so long to be boss for a day, and it happened today. Playing cars with Daddy was good. I liked eating tarts with Ele on the video call for her birthday. It was funny because it was a bit crazy. Throwing rocks in the river was the best part of our walks.
Sophie: I had to climb up from the river twice (once for a walk and once for Lucy’s photo) which I did not appreciate. This week has been better though.
Aurora: I still miss Duplo A loads. Sometimes my family annoy me.
Harriet: If I’m honest – and this is me putting myself out to be judged here, which is not something I do lightly or with any degree of comfort – I am finding the increased contact with home, which in many ways is so delightful, a challenge too. I am realising that I find being (or perhaps feeling) under an obligation difficult – if people expect me to do things, albeit something as simple as calling them at an agreed time – there is the risk that I may let them down; Be late; Say the wrong thing; Not have good enough internet; Not do what they expected me to do; Be not good enough. By taking myself away from our usual life I took myself out of all obligation to anyone other than the five people I live with and I now realise that that lifted a huge weight of anxiety and pressure off me. I cannot live as a hermit and so this is something I have to learn to deal with: I suspect that people’s expectations of me are not quite as high as mine are of myself.
I also worry slightly that we are becoming a group of people who are living separate lives (jigsaws, crochet, books, Instagram, lego) in the same place and not really interacting with each other at all. Or at least enough.
Lucy: I haven’t enjoyed when anyone has been scratchy generally. It’s slightly scary that we are already a good way through the Half Blood Prince and have finished the massive Order of the Phoenix.
Ben: Lastweek I wrote about enjoying the slower pace, and the lack of obligations. This week I have enjoyed those aspects less, particularly passing both the 60 days and 2 month milestones without seeing an end to lockdown on the horizon. We still have almost two thirds of our trip ahead of us, in terms of time, and there’s a lot of adventure to be had in four months, or even two or three if that’s what we get.
This sounds like a whinge when I read it again. Many people are in much worse situations, whether health, company, job, location or any other aspect of this bizarre situation. I am very grateful for what I and we have.
Magnus: Fighting. I hate it but it seems like I’m at the centre of every bit, and I don’t know why.
How are the tadpoles?
Doing well, thank you for asking. They don’t seem particularly interested in our lovingly frozen and defrosted manky ends of salad, preferring to nibble at the algae and other things (lots and lots of tiny worms) that appear naturally in their various pools. The outside sink colony are properly hatched and swimming busily. They still have their external gills. The bird bath crew are growing well (maybe now 3 cm long) and are getting more of a frog-like shape to their bodies. Up close you can see that they are becoming more greeny grey and spotty too.
What did we eat?
A mouflon was, actually, the second most exciting thing that Ben found in the mini-market that morning. He also found live yeast.
So we made pizzas. And hot cross buns.
And we had lovely tarts too.
And the plastic?
Again, more of the same really. We have redisovered “pot pots” (ie fruit puree in yoghurt pots – why don’t we have these in the UK (other than branded as weaning food – that’s business idea number 3,857 by the way) which are delicious but do generate more plastic waste, as do yoghurts. We need to wean (pun intended) ourselves off them.
The French government has confirmed that lockdown here will continue beyond 15 April, although we don’t yet know when it will be extended to.
Lucy’s birthday is on 21st April so we are busy plannning that. the original intention was for us to be in St Petersburg then (and then on an overnight train to Moscow) so the reality will be slightly different, but at least this way she will get a home made cake. We’ve even located some candles. Like everyone else we’ve had lots of practice at singing happy birthday recently…
Still France. Still not going more than 1km from our front door. (Apart from Ben who gets to go to the supermarket once a week).
What did we do?
More of the same, really. We have settled into our routine, which is not really a routine as such, but is at least a structure. We have agreed that we all need this, for all that there’s a statutory whinge at the mention of it. So every morning we agree on a plan of action of the day.
This normally involves some learning (screen or paper-based and mostly both), some exercise (usually a walk first thing and then two shorter sessions later on in the day (Canadian airforce XBX and our home made circuit), some “quiet time” in which the children disappear to their rooms to listen to stories or read and we crochet or do jigsaws or read or blog, and some free screen time. We are trying, too, to build in some clear family time for games or doing something else together.
We are thinking, too, that the children should have a chance to plan this, rather than having it imposed on them. We’re going to try that next week…
Highlights (i.e. things we did this week that we didn’t do last week)
We took our croissants on a walk with us yesterday morning and sat looking down at the village in the sunshine.
We discovered a new walking route that none of us had been on before and did it twice (clockwise and anti-clockwise).
We enjoyed collaborating to make our optical illusion photographs.
Two of us downloaded MarioKart and have been enjoying having their “arses whooped” by Magnus. One of us has occasionally been found playing it when Magnus is nowhere to be seen…
We used up the ingredients in the house (as instructed by our landlords) to make a honey cake.
We dyed each other’s hair, with varying results.
Some of us completed several jigsaws.
We learned hearts, and a new form of whist, and Risk (that may or may not be considered a “good thing”)
Aurora made a washing and drying up rota (six day rotation) so that each of us only has to do one chore once a day. Most of us are very happy with it.
Ben learned that nail polish and gel nail polish are not the same thing. We will be experimenting with how much UV light there is in sunlight in due course.
We watched a “family film”, pressing play on six different devices simultaneously and heading off together to Arendelle to watch Elsa and Anna battle an entirely unconvincing plot to reach a satisfactory conclusion once again. Ben played the soundtrack over and over again afterwards.
We’ve added a brief period of mindfulness to the end of our daily exercise. We’re not all entirely convinced by it yet, but hoping that will change.
In the spirit of grooming (see hair dye above) Ben trimmed his beard (and pulled highly entertaining faces while doing so – hence no pictures).
We enjoyed 3D animals in the living room courtesy of google. Next week we might put a shark in the swimming pool.
How was it?
Sophie: I liked watching the family film and I liked planning our rooms for education time. I liked eating our croissants by the chapel because we’ve done that lots of times before when we’ve been in France. I liked dyeing our hair lots, apart from mine didn’t work so I want to do it again. I’m going to do it purple. The tadpoles are quite cool as well.
Aurora: Good bits were watching the movie and playing Risk. I’m 100% going to beat Daddy next time. He didn’t actually win that time because we didn’t finish it.
And Mummy fed me!
Harriet: At the risk of coming over all Pollyanna. I get a little boost every morning when I come downstairs and I don’t have to empty the dishwasher. Clearly the actual reason for this could be considered a bad thing as the twenty year old dishwasher broke about three days after we got here. But Aurora has created a washing and drying rota which has simply been absorbed into the rhythm of our day, mostly (apart from once) with very little conflict and that is a good thing too.
I have lovely friends and family who have sent us, in no particular order, books, wool, crochet hooks, kitchen scales and tea. I am now set up for the long haul (and can make Lucy a birthday cake)….
My new glasses (bought online, with some trepidation) have also arrived, which means I can see properly again. I definitely need to talk to the optician about my contact lens prescription when I get back.
In bigger stuff I think (famous last words) we have got on better this week. The scuffles have been shorter and fewer in number and we have avoided (wait for it) a major blow out.
Magnus: Daddy joined MarioKart Tour. It’s fun because I can play against him. I liked watching Frozen II with everyone. I liked talking to my friends. I like my new lock screen on my phone.
Ben: The rhythm we have found seems to be more settled, which is definitely a good thing. I continue to be entranced by the scenery of our walks, and despite being limited to a kilometre radius we have walked trails I have never been on. I have been struck by the birdsong – its variety and its volume. Spring has definitely sprung.
If I don’t think about what we are missing, and look at what we have, we are in a lovely place, taking our days at a very leisurely pace, with plenty of lovely food, more exercise than I am used to, and mostly in the sun. I am surrounded by my family, and none of us is ill. I have very few obligations. I can play MarioKart and call it bonding with my son. There is excellent cheese here (we are about to have our second Raclette of the lockdown). We have had good chats, and social network exchanges with friends stuck in their houses. On an absolute level, life is good, and on a relative level (compared to what many other have today) we are in an amazing place.
I have had lovely times with each of my fellow inmates this week. And the soundtrack to Frozen 2 was an unexpected pleasure.
Lucy: I liked the parcels arriving. It just shows that everyone is thinking about us. I enjoyed dyeing our hair. I like the walks that we’ve been going on. The weather has been really nice. I enjoyed winning at Quiddler today.
Lucy: I’m not really sure. I mean we’ve argued but not as much as sometimes. There haven’t been many bad bits.
Harriet: I know I have had some very down times this week, and I’ve struggled with negativity from the children which has an immediate and extraordinary lowering effect, but now, sitting in the sun, the warmest it has yet been, with a cup of tea and my crochet to look forward to, I’m concentrating on the positive. And it has been, this week, mostly positive.
Sophie: Nothing really apart from when we fight and when Magnus tries to annoy me. I always try to ignore him but then I do get annoyed and it’s just annoying.
Magnus: I don’t like the rota. I just don’t. I didn’t like last night because I was fighting like half a million times.
Aurora: Cleaning. I don’t like all the dusting and hoovering upstairs because the hoover is rubbish. Magnus winding me up. I don’t like the mindfulness. I can’t be bothered to do it. Daddy taking my phone away when I didn’t actually do anything that was that bad.
Ben: Not knowing about the future, when the mind wanders from the present, whether that future is how on earth am I going to earn money when I return, or are we going to be able to go anywhere, is a trap I need to avoid.
Normally I go to the Intermarché about 11km away in St Laurent du Pont on a Monday, for a weekly shop, when the local minimarket is closed. This week I went down to Meylan, outside Grenoble, which is about 20km in the other direction, and I don’t think I will go again. It was not an enjoyable experience, and it made me appreciate the tranquility and solitude (enforced or not) of the hills. There was more produce on offer at the People’s Republic of Carrefour (so big you can see it from space*), but more people, and it made me think that the risks to me, us, and everyone else, are probably not worth it, just for a few things which we could potentially/probably forgo. Not going to happen again.
*not actually true.
What about the tadpoles?
Our new babies continue to grow. The outside sink colony are gettting bigger and wrigglier but are still not quite hatched. There are quite a few eggs (is that the right word?) in there which haven’t developed and have gone cloudy. We wonder if that’s to do with it being cold. The bird bath crew are definitely hatched and very active. Some of them are losing their external gills and they are all getting more tadpole like in shape. They are about a mighty 1.5cm long. We haven’t yet started to feed them; that’s next week’s excitement.
What did we eat?
This is a bit more like being at home, in that we meal plan at the beginning of the week, before Ben heads into town to the big(ger) supermarket. We are trying to be more vegetarian, (when not eating sausages) and continue to rely on the only recipe book we brought with us, The Green Roasting Tin, to varying approval. Magnus was not a fan of the red cabbage salad.
And the plastic?
Not having glasses was not great for the plastic consumption: contact lenses seem to be all about the single use plastic and none of it seems to be recyclable. That’s another reason to be glad the new glasses have arrived.
Dyeing our hair, while fun, also created quite a bit of non-recyclable waste.
We fear that with the current advice to use single use gloves and wipes and endless handwash and sanitiser, our plastic challenge (although we are not currently using the gloves or wipes) is going to get harder as this continues. We are still making an effort though, and a trip to the communal recycling bins is now a regular part of our walks.
This week we cancelled all our remaining plans up to and until Mongolia (scheduled for 1 June). Russia is in lockdown until 1 May at the earliest and so we wait until then to see where we can go and how.
I realise we are not, and probably now never will be (at least not on this trip), in Slovenia, but I had the book, so I was jolly well going to read it.
It’s the next best thing to being there, right? I’ll get a real sense of Slovenia culture and identity, right?
I didn’t so much choose a Slovenian book as have it chosen for me… I started with this list of Slovenian authors whose works have been translated into English. Guess how many of them Google had available? Yup. None.
So I outsourced the problem to my mother, who was coming to join us in Vienna and just asked her to get me any Slovenian novel she could find. Harder than you might hink, given that Slovenia is a pretty small country and has a publishing industry to match. Approximately 500 novels are published in Slovenia a year and I would suspect that relatively few of them make it into English.
Anyway, I got this one: The Sorcerer’s Apprentice by Evald Flisar, translated by the author and David Limon (so you’ve got to hope the translation was pretty much as the author wanted!)
It is, according to the blurb, the biggest selling Slovenian book ever. Only about two million people speak Slovenian as a first language and this book has sold over 65,000 copies. That equates to about one in every thirty Slovenian speakers who have bought a copy.
What better introduction to Slovenian culture could there be?
Only it was not at all what I was expecting. It’s set in the Himalayas for a start. I think Slovenia gets mentioned about twice. It’s the journey of a well-educated (bilingual with English) Slovenian young (ish) man on a search for enlightenment and features his musings and experiences along the way as he follows his guru up and down montains and through hill top villages and spends time in a Tantric monastery.
If it is, as I suppose it must be, given how many copies it sold, a good indication of Slovenian thought and culture, I’m expecting them all to do a lot of meditation and have an interest in Buddhism and mysticism.
I don’t think they do. But I may be wrong. Interestingly the epigraph in my current (Norwegian) book, is also by a Slovenian philosopher.
I’m being rude about the book though; which isn’t fair. For all of the mystic mumbo jumbo (and yes that is deliberately rude and there is quite a lot of that), there were many sentences that brought me up short with what felt like their apposite correctness. I rather wanted a pencil so I could underline them and come back to them.
At this historical moment in particular, what I took as the book’s central message – although it’s the sort of book that I suspect different readers would see different things in – seemed one that I need to remember: we can only be who we are now and where we are now. We cannot change the past and we cannot be in the future until we actually are there (by which time it is no longer the future). There is no point in raging against or trying to change now, you can only be in it.
We are supposed to be arriving in Paris in the next half an hour or so. We had first class tickets on the train leaving Grenoble earlier today. The car should have still been here in the village, ready to be driven back to the UK by my in-laws. We should have got rid of all our extraneous stuff and be down only to what we can carry. The adventure really should have started today.
But it hasn’t. And I am here. And now. I cannot change that. I can only live in this moment.
I’d probaby have reached that conclusion without the book, and I will undoubtedly have many, many, moments where I forget it, but I am trying to hold on to it.
Maybe this was the book I needed to read. Slovenian or not.
After my failure to try and find a book in English that encapsulated the spirit and culture of each country we have so far visited (funny that), I decided to give up on both my criteria.
As a result my French book was a) a detective novel and b) (deep breath) in French.
I do have a degree in French, it is true, but it is over twenty years since I last read a book in French, and if I’m scrupulously honest I’m not sure I even did then (publishers in university towns are surprisingly good about producing reliable and cheap translations of set texts, I found).
Anyway, a lovely friend had recommended the Commissionaire Adamsberg novels of Fred Vargas so I thought I’d give one of them a go. When we arrived here I did my customary trawl of the books in the house and noted that there was one of hers here already, in English: Have Mercy on Us. If all else fails, I thought, I’ll read that…
But the supermarket did me proud and had several of her novels. No English version required… I picked one, mostly at random, influenced only really by price (it was oddly slightly cheaper than the others) and the fact that it had won a prize. It’s called Pars Vite et Reviens Tard. In English, that’s Leave quickly and come back late.
I don’t know what made me, on my return to the house, get out the two novels, with their very different titles, and compare them. But I did. The original French title of my English book is, you guessed it, Pars Vite et Reviens Tard. They are the same book.
I was slightly annoyed by this, to be honest, although with hindsight I’m not sure why. There was nothing stopping me just reading the French one and ignoring the English. Or vice versa. But in the end, I’ve, sort of, read both.
I started with two or three chapters of the French and then quickly skimmed the English just to check I hadn’t missed anything. It’s been an interesting experience and a glimpse into the skill that is translation. Pleasingly I’d generally understood the plot, but the words used were, often, wildly different. Rather than being, as I would have imagined, almost a word-by-word exercise, in which the translation is as close to the original as possible, this read much more as if the translator, David Bellos, had read the book and then, almost without looking at it again, retold the original French story in his own, English, words.
It made me realise what a skill translating is, and in turn, how we can never know, when we read a book in translation, not just “how close” to the original it is, but also what “how close” really means. If the author has used a word, should the direct translation be used? Or is there another phrase which may express better the feel or mood or style of the author? Or which may simply sound better in English? And if so, how do you choose which to prioritise?
So I take my metaphorical hat off to the translators* of all the books I have read. With the exception of this one I will never read the original works, so I will never know how “close” or “good” or “true” they were, but to differing degrees I enjoyed them all, and I never felt that the English jarred.
And what of the book itself? I enjoyed it, although I was irritated by several of what, to me, felt like plot holes. And I certainly didn’t get why anyone, much less two attractive young women, would leap into bed with Adamsberg. He wears sandals…
I’m also not sure that now is the time to be reading a book about plague and panic.
I would read more of Fred Vargas’ books though, and not just because I am very chuffed with myself for doing so in French.
As for the change of title. It does make sense. But it’s still a bit annoying.
Next: to read the books I’ve been carrying round in the expectation if visiting countries we will not now get to. First: Slovenia.
* I should have credted them in my last book-y post, and I apologise for not doing so. I can’t go back and edit it (there’s a glitch somewhere) so I’m doing it here:
The Tobacconist translated from the German by Charlotte Collins (Austria)
The House with the Stained Glass Window translated from the Polish by Antonia Lloyd Jones (Poland)
War and Turpentine translated from the Dutch by David McKay (Belgium)
The White King translated from the Hungarian by Paul Olchvary (Hungary)
One Clear Ice Cold Morning… translated from the German by Jamie Bulloch (Germany)
We are the Campbells. On 9 February 2020 we left our house in Scotland (in a small town on the banks of the River Tweed) on our way overland to Tokyo for the Summer Olympics. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic we were on lockdown in France, still hoping to reach Tokyo, one day, though not this year. Now back home, you can find out more about us by clicking here or on one of the links above.
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