Bordeaux, je t’aime...

As if we didn’t receive enough holidays, we were treated to yet another day off on the 11^th November for Armistice Day.  As it fell on a Thursday, this essentially meant we had a five-day weekend, perfect to get out of our respective cities and discover more about the region. Having toyed with the idea of going to Amsterdam (too far), Paris (too expensive), and the South Coast (too wet), we settled on spending out impromptu holiday in Bordeaux. Although it is not that far (about three hours drive from Sarlat and the train goes direct from Sarlat to Bordeaux via Bergerac), I for one still hadn’t really been there and we were all pretty pumped (for want of a better word) to discover more about it.

I have always thought that if I were to live for a substantial amount of time in France, I would live in Paris. Obviously. But now I am really not so sure. For after having spent three days in the city of Bordeaux, the pedestal upon which I so confidently placed Paris upon has become a little unstable. I suppose this is predominantly a result of spending a substantial amount in the South, as this wee map testifies...

The South-Wester's vision of La Belle France

Bottom line is; I officially love Bordeaux.

Six of us went; Ellie, Mandy, and Ben from Bergerac, Robbie from Perigueux and Joe and I from Sarlat. We stayed in a petit ‘deux etoiles’ hotel on Rue Huguerie in the centre of Bordeaux, about 3 minutes walk from the Place de Quinconces. It was an amazing location – and a pretty amusing hotel. Having booked the cheapest rooms possible, the first night saw an instant upgrade to a ‘deluxe’ room with a shower and toilet. No idea why, but I wasn’t complaining. For the second night though, we were plonked back into our rightful place, into a room that was little more than a bed in a corridor. The communal toilet was next door and shower was four floors above. It was simple, but functional and in a prime location.

The day we arrived was absolutely pouring with rain so after a particularly wet bit of sightseeing in the city centre, we all went our separate directions to see what we wanted. Mandy and I saw the imposing Monument aux Girondins and the Esplanade des Quinconces before trudging around the Jardin Publique, which was absolutely stunning in spite of the rain. We ended up in a bar on a beautiful square in the city centre (Place Camille Julian), sipping Leffes and drying our sopping feet. After a quick nap, change and a recuperation of energy back at the hotel, we all headed out for dinner. By now, the rain was torrential – not something you want when you trying to find a compromise between six different opinions, purses and taste buds. Thankfully, we finally found a busy little restaurant where we ate outside, underneath some outdoor heaters watching the rain pouring down around us.

We followed dinner with another wet walk in search of a bar before ending up going to one right next to our restaurant. After a few Sangrias in a Spanish-themed bar, we got our boogy on in a super-chic Bordelaise bar/club. For some weird and wonderful reason, we thought it would be a good idea to finish the night at a strange underground club with a lot of sweat, sticky drinks, sleazy men and loud music (pretty much identical to old Garibaldi’s in Edinburgh, the favourite haunt of our misspent youth!) 

Robbie and Mandy at Esplanade des Quinconces with a tram in the background

Monument aux Girondins

Mandy in the Jardin Public

The Autumn colours in the Jardin Public

Ben and Ellie on the rainy way to dinner

Me. Ben. Sangria. Wiggid

Friday morning was a lot less dreech and, after bidding goodbye to the Bergeraçois– who were heading off to spend the next night in Périgueux – we walked towards the waterfront and took in the view. Bordeaux’s 18^th century ‘golden age’ is very much in evidence on the waterfront, with impressive Parisian-esque buildings testament to the extreme wealth that arose through the slave trade of this port city, manifest in the Place de Bourse, Porte de Bourgogne, Porte Cailhau and the Grosse Cloche at St Eloi.

The afternoon was spent at the Musée d’Aquitaine, followed by a quick visit to the Conservatoire de Bordeaux, Hotel de Ville, and Cathédrale. We indulged in a couple of macaroons, the specialty, on the walk back – I highly recommend Apple and nut or chocolate and honey. So delicious. Later that evening, we found a maybe not so French titled restaurant (‘5^th Avenue’) just off main Rue Georges Clemenceau. Nevertheless, it but was definitely the best meal that I had in Bordeaux, maybe that I have had so far in France. There was a really lovely atmosphere, wonderful staff and seriously amazing food. Both of us went for salmon (my third time in 2 days – well, we were nearer the sea!) – Joe had a salmon steak and gratin dauphinoise and I had salmon tartar with legumes. Obviously, it was followed with some cheesecake. Best. Meal. Ever.

As it was such a nice evening, we followed the meal with a wander around town, stopping off at the ‘Apollo’ for un petit verre. It was absolutely packed and, as we started to notice, a lot of the people there were chatting in sign language. As we were having our drink, we were joined by two jeune Bordelaises, Julie et Eric, who told us that Friday night actually also coincided with the meeting of the sign language school – an evening where they were given a chance to practice their sign language skills with one another. Julie and Eric, and their friend Hugo who joined us for a bit, were very friendly and invited us to come with them after to see the Miroir de l’eau – on the Quai de la Douane, which is apparently where all the ‘young’ hang out to meet and drink without being bothered by the horde of tourists thronging the city centre. The atmosphere on the waterfront was amazing, and the view of the city lights reflected in the river was spectacular. After drinking it in, we took a tram down to Place de la Victoire – the ‘students’ quarter, where we had a drink there and discussed French politics. It was so interesting to hear a French point of view and also, I am intrigued to see how concerned many of the French people that I have met are with the how the rest of the world perceives them.

Place de la Bourse

One of the Portes (Disneyland perhaps?)

Typical Bordelaise street

The area around the Musee d'Aquitaine

Grosse Cloche

Not quite sure but think this is the Eglise Protestante Temple de Ha

Cathédrale St-Andre

Hotel de Ville

Les Macaroons

 We awoke to sunny skies on Saturday, and spent the morning at the Galerie et Musée des Beaux Arts. There were some really incredible sketches of the body in the Galerie – although the studies were painted about three or four hundred years ago, some of them looked so modern (especially those that were done in coloured chalk with white chalk highlights – they almost looked Hockney-esque). The gardens at the Musee were incredible – words can’t really do them justice so I’ll just compensate with the pictures.

  

Joe in the gardens of the Musée de Beaux Arts

Perving on a Jewish wedding ceremony!

The gates at the Musée

Me and my new reptilian mate

Random crocodile sculpture at Musée

Suffering from a bit of ‘cultural fatigue’, we then walked up to the Jardin Public where we had a drink in the sun and watched the world go by before walking back around time one final time.

The Jardin Public

Monument de Girondins again - looks better in the sun

Crusties practicing juggling at the Miroir de l'Eau on the river-front

Place de la Bourse

Place de la Victoire - plein des étudiants

Sunset on the university at Place de la Victoire

One final look at the city centre

That evening, we drove across town to Stade Chaban Delmas, to catch the Bordeaux-Nancy football match. It was a good thing we were so early cause it was an absolute nightmare trying to park (Dad was so right about the parking in Bordeaux. I almost cried!) For a football-sceptic, I am a little bit ashamed to say that this was one of my favourite parts of the trip! The atmosphere in the stadium was electric. We had bought tickets from a young Bordelaise who was trying to flog ones that were going spare, so we were seated in the liveliest stand in the whole stade. Well, I say ‘seated’, no-one was actually sitting down. Everybody was standing on their chairs, shouting, singing, jumping... all egged on by ‘professional supporters’ who stood at the front with microphones and lead the crowd in all the chants and songs.  That’s definitely a job Cel would be really good at! (As proven by his prowess on trains home after Welsh rugby matches... who else knows every single verse of ‘Bread of Heaven’)

Bordeaux scored within the first 15 minutes, and after not much action for the majority of the match, the final ten minutes were unbelievable! First, the opposition scored an equaliser which was blatantly offside - as expressed in extremely clear language by the Bordeaux supporters (my vocabulary has been greatly enriched!) Then, about three minutes later, the home team retaliated with a dodgy goal that so enraged the Nancy team, they threatened to storm off the pitch. Both goals were so dubious that they didn’t replay either, for fear that it would enrage the crowd!

Bordeaux vs Nancy at Stade Chaban Delmas

(Massivest. Guy. Ever. JOKES!)

So in all, it was a pretty successful trip. Apologies for a bit of a long and rambling post, I was just so enamoured by all that the city had to offer, and so taken by the cosmopolitan atmosphere, the phenomenal variety between each different quartier  and the warmth and geniality of the Bordelaise, that I just can’t stop gushing about it! Thank GOD I’m relatively close to such an amazing city as Bordeaux... I’m a very lucky lady!

Une visite au cinéma

Just accompanied my CM1 classes from Ferdinand Buisson on a school trip to the cinema. I was assured that it would be fine for me because they were watching a film muette (silent film) so I’d be able to understand. Sure enough it was a black and white hommage to Charlie Chaplain’s The Kid set in New York with accompanying music performed by the International Sidewalk Orchestra. The film itself wasn’t bad – but to be honest, most of the entertainment came out of sitting in a cinema full of 8-10 year olds who were continually chatting, turning around, telling each other to shut up, and throwing various objects around the room. Most hilarious of all was the short yet graphic ‘amorous’ scene, which was greeted byabsolute roars of disgust from every single child. It was so so funny – and unbelievably reminiscent of Cinema Paradiso (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7uGkuyc2OmY) 

S.A.R.L.A.T. - Festival du Film

The 9-13 November saw the famous Festival du Film de Sarlat – a major event in the French cinematographic calendar that is now in its nineteenth year.  Although it seems a little odd that a four day festival packed with films, conferences, and seminars should come to such a small and relatively out of the way town as Sarlat, it actually makes sense as the Lycée in Sarlat (Lycée Pré de Cordy) specialises in film studies in the final year (Terminale) and students (including my neighbour – Julie) come from all around the region to study here. The festival was in fact created with pedagogical objectives in mind and gave the students of the collège and lycée in Sarlat an opportunity to watch films, meet production teams and hear the methods and madness of directors themselves.

The promo poster for the 19th Film Festival in Sarlat

 I had absolutely no idea just how busy the film festival was going to be – a bit of a major error when I rocked up on the opening night to find queues snaking down the street outside the cinema, in spite of the pouring rain. It was so funny to see what was usually a silent street now full of serious-looking intellectuals in parka jackets and shades lugging great camera bags and smoking. However, there were a lot of Sarladais out as well, and I bumped into more than a few familiar faces at the cinema during the few days of the festival. Most of the people there on the first night had turned out to watch the Cérémonie d’ouverture – in which a showing of Un balcon sur la mer was to be proceeded by a talk from the festival’s organisers and the director of the film herself, Nicole Garcia. I was actually there to watch another film, Mugabe et l’Africain Blanc and spent a great half-hour watching crowds pour in, followed by the director and actors being photographed and interviewed by the press before they entered. 

Mugabe et l'Africain Blanc by L. Bailey and A. Thompson

The opening film

Nicole Garcia - director(ess) of Un Balcon Sur la Mer [I SAW HER!!]

The following day, I attended on of the conferences for the lyceens in the Centre Culturelle de Sarlat. Entitled Les Cinéma’s d’Afrique: Histoire, Diversités, Ecritures and taken by Jean-Claude Rullier, it was essentially an introduction to the history and nature of African cinema. I was surprised at how similar academic studies of African cinema and African music are – with the study of both starting along colonial and then ethnographic lines. The lecture was punctuated with small excerpts from African films, and I definitely now need to watch the films of Senegalese director Ousmane Sembene(Borom Sarret, Xala) as well as Tilai by Idrissa Ouedraogo. For more information, I recommend that you go to www.africanfilmlibrary.com , which is a lot more useful than my vague ramblings.

Finally, after choir practice on Wednesday evening, I went along to the showing of Sam Taylor-Wood’s Nowhere Boy – a film about the John Lennon, pre-Beatles. It was a good film, but didn’t have much to do with the Beatles, more about Lennon’s mixed-up family life (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6Km9L1Sqd0.) Although, I never thought I would say this, it was actually so good to hear the Liverpudlian accent!

French poster for Nowhere Boy

Unfortunately, that was all I caught as I left Sarlat on the 11th to visit Bordeaux, but from what I saw, the Festival du Film de Sarlat is well worth a visit.  

PS Check out http://www.sudouest.fr/cinema/festival-du-film-de-sarlat/ to see all the press coverage. SUCH a media stir!

La Vie Culturelle

Since returning to Sarlat post-half term , there seems to have been a whole lot more going on; more to see, to do and to visit. Perhaps it is because the periphery of our little French life has got much wider grâce à Chevy, or maybe it’s due to the fact that we are no longer struggling to settle in and spending hours on mundane chores like trying to find a duvet (!) or working out the best way to get to school in the mornings. Anyway, whatever the reason, the past week or so has been a lot of fun. The Orchestre National Bordeaux Aquitaine played on Friday night at the Centre Culturelle in Bergerac. For only €6, I was treated to The Sorcerer’s Apprentice by Dukas, Prokofiev’s 3^rd Piano Concerto and Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 1. It was such a treat to hear an orchestra again, in spite of the fact that the Centre Culturelle is more like a glorified cinema, some of the first violinists were so far off-stage that they may as well have been sitting in the car park, people chatted the entire way through and, for some reason, the French like to clap in rhythm at the end of pieces. Jokes. It was really good fun and the standard was very high, especially the soloist – a Macedonian called Simon Trpceski who seemed to enjoy playing so much he hardly touched the seat during the whole performance. It was also a great chance to hear Tchaikovsky #1. I haven’t really heard it before but have been spotifying it – especially the third movement which is absolutely stunning. What a treat!

L'Orchestre National Bordeaux Aquitaine - under the baton of Jérémie Rhorer

The orchestra whirling through the wee encore

Ben and Tyler in the newly found 'Buddha Bar' in Bergerac post-concert

Ellie, Tyler, Rosie and Katie - teaching the Americans the meaning of some 'British' hand signals 

Post-concert, I joined les Bergeraçois in a bar in town, completely buzzing from my little classical music ‘fix’. It wasn’t quite the same as going to Jabez or to the Spoons in Manchester city centre, which is what I’ve become so used to, but was really good fun all the same – especially as we ended up in this grimy bar/club called El Mojito later on in the night. With UK Top 40 blasting, weird soft-porn and sport on television screens and ‘le punch’ sold very cheaply, it was a bizarre but hilarious night all the same!

En plus, Joe, Alaina and I went along to Sarlat RFC (They’re called CASPN – not sure what it means though) playing on Saturday night. I didn’t catch who they were playing (the scoreboard only says Sarlat and visiteurs so I didn’t actually have any idea who they were. But with a black and yellow stripy kit, they were probably the wasps. Probably. (Definitely not!)

Anyway, it was such a good match. The stadium was packed, there were little half-pints on sale, big gruff men shouted continually at the ref, kids were running around the track alongside the pitch, supporters on the home bench had brought along a big bass drum so it felt as though we had stepped into Jumanji... in short, the atmosphere was amazing. And we won, which is something that, as a Scotland supporter, I have rarely experienced! I’ve decided that I’m definitely a CASPN supporter as of today. Whoop

The CASPN Stadium - just on the outskirts of Sarlat

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I feel a bit spoilt! There's loads more happening in the next couple of weeks. The Sarlat Film Festival starts on the 9th November and runs until the 13th, which looks to be quite a substantial event. We have another holiday (!) on the 11th November for Armistice Day and, as it falls on a Thursday, that gives us a 5-day weekend. I reckon I could get used to this: three days work, one and a half weeks off, two days work, five days off... sometimes the French really do know how to live!