En bourg.

A few shots whilst out & about this morning.

Shop fronts are always decorated when the Tour de France comes to town.

Oignons.

 Of all the places to find New Zealand onions. France.

 

Tour de France Femmes.

 

Shot of the Tour de France Femmes yellow jersey hanging in town. Counting down to their arrival on the 26th of July.

Le Tour de France à Plumelec.

A voté!

 I didn't actually vote at the Mairie comme d'habitude but at the salle communal. Regional & Departmental elections.

Out & about.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly....

Well, we're hitting the silly season and I'm determined to try and make this a goodie. I'm lucky that, despite being divorced, my ex and I get on really well (most of the time. Let's not go overboard). We'll be spending Christmas Eve together; the traditional Christmas Dinner here en France. That will probably end in the early hours of Christmas morning. I'll head home, crash and then get up and head around to Madame's for the presents, followed by Christmas dinner...again. Bring on the seafood, foie gras et 'je ne sais pas pour le viande'.

After lunch it's home James for me and Christmas evening spent by myself. I picked up a New Zealand leg of lamb and am going to dine out on that. Not really Christmas fare but a touch of Aotearoa to help buoy the spirits. I'm going to have a movie marathon so if anybody can suggest some good films on Netflix (no dosh to buy DVDs), it would be much appreciated.

Christmas is a tough time of year without our big boy. We're here for his little Bro though and make the whole experience as positive and happy as possible. He deserves nothing less.

I have a nice anecdote about N on one of his last Christmas mornings. He rushed downstairs early in the morning, as kids do, and went to see the presents under the Christmas tree (and Santas footprints in 'snow' leading from the chimney to the tree). He then returned to the door to the stairs and told us that he wanted to wait for his little Bro before attacking the presents. We didn't encourage him to do this; it came from him. He loved his little Bro and was incredibly protective of him. This touched me dearly , and still does. In fact it's brought a wee tear to my eye writing this. It happens at some stage everyday.

So, I am trying my damndest to make this Christmas a positive one. For both of my sons in their different ways, and for my ex-wife who has suffered, and is still suffering just as much as me.

Tangata whenua.

My first ever blog, in fact the only other one I've ever had, was called Displaced Kiwi. This is what I am. A New Zealander who has been displaced to France. Against my will? Well,  I wouldn't say that. The things we do for love. Nonetheless I remain a Kiwi at heart. NZ is the country that I love; the most beautiful country in the world and I've visited nearly 30. But, and this is a big but, I now have dual nationality. I am a Frenchman. What's more, I am proud to be French, although I have not yet been able to support le XV de France!

However, I would move 'home' at the drop of a hat if I could, but my son lives here, despite also having New Zealand citizenship, and I would never leave him. It may be a different story once he turns 18 and becomes a majeur. I'd also find it very hard to leave my big boy's grave. It is my link to him and not being able to visit it would hit me hard. So, in France I remain and I am trying so hard to make the most of it. I've been living in France for 17 years and despite listening to NewsTalk ZB everyday, watching Kiwi films, watching the ABs and eating the odd leg of lamb, I remain French while I'm here.

The life of an expat is one that is so hard to define. Only other expats can fully understand. I'm comfortable having dual nationality and count myself lucky. I'm also glad that I ended up living in Brittany. My kind of place.

En plus, Asterix and Obelix come from here. What more could you want?

Word of the day: Cuisine.

Baker's route

My morning walk up to the boulangerie to get a baguette.