In the Pyrenees

The Beanmeister got to use her passport for the first time as we set off overland and under-sea to within spitting distance of Spain, up in the Pyrenees at my Father-in-law’s cottage overlooking the valley.

It was quite a logistical challenge figuring out what to bring with us, given that we had no boot to throw everything into. The train demands efficiency of packing, so we came up with a highly optimised solution involving about two changes of clothing each for us, leaving the remaining 90% capacity for her stuff.

It didn’t start well. Someone threw themselves under the train in front soon after setting off, so we had to turn back and get on another train, missing our Eurostar, but more distressingly, leaving the poor little Quaver in a terrible state as we pulled into Marylebone desperate to escape the crammed-in carriage.

Just for the record if you’re reading this Vashti, your first ever stay in a hotel was Thursday 4th October at Paris Gare de Lyon in a nice hotel called Novotel.

The first half of the week was spent luxuriating in the heat of southern France, collecting bread from the bread van at 9:53am and introducing V to the local ladies (I learnt the french for cute). The end didn’t go so well due to an unfortunate incident involving a bad dad, some hot water and a small foot (now healing nicely).

We had fun on the Paris Metro, getting trapped within the unstaffed ticket zone due to some malfunctionioning barriers and a rash decision to run through a disabled barrier. With the clock ticking we were unable to escape until we found an gate stuck open and legged it through. How does the Paris Metro always seem to involve some drama for our family.

Now we’re back and V has celebrated her first 1/2 birthday. Where shall we go next? Portugal?