Ships and ceiling wax

We just got back last weekend from a few days in France with our friends Don and Caroline. We stayed at their holiday cabin on the north coast of France. Weather was lovely and sunny. Very civilised

I remember an architecture lecturer of mine a long time ago musing that, for a holiday to be good, one should set oneself a task - read a book, finish a jigsaw, learn to scuba dive etc. (He had other criteria as well but this was the one that stuck in my mind) Anyway I decided to read a couple of books over the 5 days we were out. Just switch off and immerse myself.

The first - The Mambo Kings play Songs of Love by Oscar Hijuelos - was a sweeping novel about NY in the 1950's and centred on two Cuban musician brothers who emigrated to find their fame and fortune.

Almost encyclopedic in its detail of NY in the 1950's the novel powerfully evokes the era. It also explores many of the issues of emigration - the loss the nostalgia and the sense of having a foot in two disconected camps - all feelings I could identify with very strongly

I found this review of the book online and think its quite accurate. And yes there is a lot of "pinga" talk (read the review!)
Mambo Kings book review

The other was Amistead Maupins restarted Tales of the City novel - Michael Tolliver Lives. Quick, light and frothy, it lacked some of the pathos of his earlier writing. A bit like white bread it wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped.

The main news of the holiday however was my stunningly clever effort in loosing Michael's glasses on our second day there. We had driven to the beach in the afternoon at Hardelot which is long and flat. The day was sunny and windy but not that warm. Michael and I however were determined to get our feet wet so we waded in. We had to go out about 50m just to get up to our knees. We still had t shirts and a hat on and had no intention of getting fully wet. Michael had given me his glasses to hold and I tucked them into my t shirt

The beach at Hardelot

As we continued to wade further in the waves got a bit choppier and were now splashing our t shirts. Michael takes off his t shirt for me to hold to stop it getting wet. Brainiac me decides to do the same thing forgetting Michael's glasses are tucked into the collar. Anyway Michael calls out what was that plop as I take the t shirt off over my head. Big sinking feeling. Oh sh*t. Was that my glasses says Michael? Oh f*ck. Quick pat down of the t shirt now in my hands. No glasses. Panic rising quickly. Look down at feet. Sea opaque with sand swirling in the water from the choppy waves. Can't see bottom at all even though less than 3 feet of water. Sh*t.

Give clothes and my glasses to Michael to take back to Sonya. Fairly certain have no hope of finding glasses as I can feel the swirling pull at feet from the ebbing tide. Glasses will be feet away by now. Sea is pretty chilly but decide I owe Michael at least to make an effort to find glasses. So crouch down in chilly water and start feeling around for glasses. Michael makes his forlorn way to beach. Top Dad!

After 20 minutes figure must be respectable effort and can give up. Stand back up see Sonya standing at waters edge. Expression on face suggests better get back under water and keep looking. Isolated words like "f*ck" and "doing" float across water. Pleased there remains a stretch of water separating Sonya from me.

Sometime later finally give up and stand up. No Sonya so make my slow way back up beach to towels. Adopt contrite facial expression and offer observation that this was not my best effort.

Michael spent the rest of the holiday wearing his prescription sunglasses everywhere including indoors and thereby adopting a cool dude appearance - Je Suis un Rock Star!

We didn't do a lot of sighseeing as we have visited the area a couple of times now but did spend one day pottering around looking for an escargot factory we had read about as well as a local chocolate factory. We didn't have any luck with the snail farm which was closed but we did find the chocolate factory.

It turned out to be a tiny little boutique chocolate factory in the small French village of Beussant. Gleaming spotless modern factory churning out yummy uber expensive chocolates. Did you know the cocoa bean is red. Very bizarre