still here, still heidi

yeah i am still in Austria! I ended up changing my flights so that i could stay longer. But the extra week has flown so fast, and now i have only three days left! I'm sad to leave, this place is really special, and the people wonderful!
it was probably dumb to start writing this because i actualy want to go outside now...
bye bye!
ill be back with photos middle of next week.

and cream with that please...

Hi y'all,
So, this is just mostly to say first of all that I made it to Austria safely Mum and Dad and sorry about the lack of contact but my hotmail account is not working and I have no credit on my phone and my magic phone card won't work! Thus I am using my blog as a means of communication - less than satisfactory, but until I get some higher speed internet that is not all in German you might have to call me if you want to chat (I'm at Hofbauer with Finni.)

So so much has happened in the last week. I realy should go back to last weekend and describe my visit from 2 Kiwi friends but that particular food and sightseeing extravaganza will have to wait for a later post.
After the girls left I did I whirlwind clean of the apartment, loads of washing etc, got packed and prepared to depart for Austria.
I missed my flight.
And I actually don't want to talk about it because I'm feeling so blissfully happy here and bringing it up gives me a little cold shudder. Anyway, thus began my 24 hour travel adventure invovling many trains and little sleep, which finally landed me in Schladming, Austria. Schladming is a darling mountain village where my grandfather was born and where his family still lives to this day.
I LOVE IT HERE!!! Actually it is soooooo great. You will all have to wait til the 26th for photos, but I assure you that it is a little paradise, and the mountain air, long hikes and lashings of cream are doing wonders for me.
Today the sky is blue, we can see all of the mountains - including the Dachstein Poppa! - and my 2nd cousin once removed (?!) is taking us swimming at the lake...because it's about 35 degrees...hehehe.
Okay, time to go and skip in the alpine meadow. There is one just outside the front door.

Ribs

I had my chest x-rayed today.

Yes indeedy, this morning I travelled way down to the south of Paris for a medical examination. Just one of the many steps in the lengthy process to get my residency permit.
I was supposed to turn up with a history of my vaccinations and hospital visits as well as a chest x-ray. I had none of these things, but knowing how long it could take to get another appointment decided to try and bluff my way through it.
On arrival at the Office for International Migration, a pile of papers was thrust into my hands and I was ushered into the 'medical visits' waiting room. It was a large room decorated in tasteful mint green (is this the international colour for 'something medical will take place here'?) with cubicles laid out in a circular fashion. The whole procedure was a bit like being on a factory line, and took no more than 15 minutes.

Step 1: present pile of papers to the nurse at reception.
Step 2: enter first cubicle, remove shoes and get weighed and measured.
Step 3: enter second cubicle, cover left eye and read the top line, repeat with the right.
Step 4: enter third cubicle, strip and don a stylish navy hospital gown.
Step 5: be summoned by the radiologist, take a big breathe and get zapped.
Step 6: re-dress, wait on the bench until your x-ray is developed, and then hope that the next free doctor is not the scary looking giant barbie who you spotted on arrival.
Step 7: enter fourth cubicle, that of friendly, chatty doctor, prattle on about NZ and hope that she'll just start checking the boxes. She does, and even lets the vaccinations that you 'may have had at 16 but I can't remember...' slide.
Step 8: Exit building with a stamped and signed medical certificate and a chest x-ray for my wall.
For once something was relatively easy! And the French can rest assured that I didn't bring any contagious pulmonary diseases into their country.

A Tuesday in Versailles

As the title of the blog clearly states, I went out to Versailles on Tuesday. My neighbour Leo was my guide as she grew up in the city, which is about the size of Dunedin but has a cooler castle.

We queued for the Chateau in pouring rain, sheltering 2 Australians under our umbrella, and were all pretty damp by the time we got to the front. Of course the moment we were indoors the sun came out and we kind of wished that we had foregone the pricey entrance fee and settled for a wander in the immense gardens. Still it is absolutely beautiful inside and when there wasn't a fellow tourist blocking your view it was lovely. There was a phenomenal number of people there, and because there is a set route to follow you feel a little like you are being carried along in a multi-lingual river of bumbags, matching walking shoes and cameras.
It is just gob-smacking to think of the work that went into all the detail, and the thousands of people who must have toiled for years to create it. You only get to see a tiny part of the entire buildings, and even that takes forever to tramp around. You can see why they opted for chamber pots back in the day.


We finally burst back out into the sunshine and coffeed on a warm terrace. It happened to be happy hour at the local cinema, so we went to see Shrek 3 - which I really enjoyed and was made funnier by the French. Leo has just spent the last month as a waitress in a local restaurant, so we dropped in for dinner and got treated like royalty. Full of profiteroles we staggered train-wards, and on the way happened across a go-cart. Instead of going to the dump in France, you can just chuck your junk outside your house and call up some dudes who will come and collect tit for you. Thus you will often come across piles of stuff on the footpath, which is awaiting collection.
The pile we found was enormous, and from it we extracted a go-cart and had fun on the empty streets. I would have loved to take it home but storage is limited and crazy neighbour would surely have had a fit. So we drove it to Leo's house and left it as a present for her younger bro.
It was a fun day.

got a light?

The French love to smoke. I know , I can't just tar (wheehehe, I'm too much) everyone with the same brush, but I'm sure that in the 15-35 age group we're looking at about 60% smokers. In any case, you only need to look down when you're on the street to see the hundreds of cigarette butts, and breathe deeply to smell the tobacco in the air. So many people I see have a cigarette as an extension of their hand or lower lip, or a tell-tall square box in their back pocket.

Something I've been noticing a lot lately is how this disgusting habit facilitates a whole world of flirting and innuendo. I have some girlfriends who are smokers, although they seldom have a full packet, and they never have a lighter or matches. The act of asking for a 'clope' or a 'feu' is carefully thought out. I watch in amusement as the crowd is scanned, and any good looking fellow smokers are picked out. Once the target is selected, smokerette hovers closer, lashes lowered, cigarette poised between fingers; a damsel in distress. In the best case scenario, beau smoker will notice lack of fire and approach, lighter at the ready. Faces lean towards one another, a few words are exchanged in a puff of smoke, smokerette feels pampered and knight in smoky armor feels chivalrous. Win win.
You also know that when a guy asks you for a light, they're hoping that they can strike up conversation, perhaps you'll turn out to be a smoker too and you can stand together awhile in your intimate fug of carcogens. Today as I walked home from the supermarket, a beau gosse pulling out of his driveway slowed, leaned out of his window and asked 'do you have a light?' I gave my usual 'sorry I don't smoke' line, to which he slowly winked and drove off.
Oh the French.
Also spotted today, a glossy black delivery van with Fanny Saga written in cursive gold script across the side. I can't even imagine.

Monumenta

Today I visited an exhibition at the Grand Palais; it was called 'Monumenta' and featured the monumental works of German/French artist, Anselm Kiefer. The paintings and sculptures were dedicated to two poets, and lines of their writing featured in many of the pieces.
I really liked what Kiefer himself had to say about his art (here kind of clumsily translated)

One must not understand what I want to say in my works. One must see something. One must see with ones own way of thinking, one's own background, and express what has been discovered. Each spectator must, in some way, finish the work with their regard.

You'll get an idea from the photos, but for each of the works, Keifer constructed a huge corrugated building to house it. Quite awesome to enter the exhibition space and see these huge cartons and then enter each one expectantly.
I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

En vacances

Yoopee doo. I am on holiday.

Last night I kissed everyone goodbye and will see them all again in Cannes, at the start of August. Four months here in Paris have really flown, and my time with the family has been great. Having said that this holiday is sooo welcome, and I know that I need the time to relax and look after myself for a while.

Today actually felt like summer too, after the weeks of rain that we have had. The sun was out and I went to a Jazz festival at the Defense. I went with a friend I hadn't seen for two months and he thought my French had greatly improved, but that I have a slight German accent?! Weird, not sure how to remedy that one.

I went to church tonight, a little Baptist one in the 16th, and found that so many people I talked to have some sort of link to NZ. A brother married a kiwi, a friend studies there, they did work experience there, and they all dream of visiting one day. It's like this mythical little paradise, where we all play rugby and live in bush-clad tranquility, surrounded by sheep.
Hehe, sometimes I like to elaborate on the remoteness and savageness of the country. Those moas can wreak havoc.

So, I feel a little like a kid in a candyshop, with the prospect of a 5 days in Paris all to myself and so many festivals happening and museums and gardens to visit and photos to take and macaroons to eat. Then I have two kiwis coming for the weekend so we'll get all touristy I imagine.

alors, ciao pour l'instant. And there will be more regular posts this week no that I have mucho free time.