It's November: Gartner Symposium

In addition to being a mother, wife, prolific reader and force of nature, I am also an IT professional. Every November I attend the Gartner ITExpo Symposium in Cannes, France. Some of you might think this is just a jolly good excuse to get out of the office. But those in the know, know this is an exhausting and demanding experience.

I come every year to update my skills and my knowledge of the industry. I spend 4 days (and nights) learning about the trends in the industry which are going to shape the future of my work next year and indeed the trajectory of my career.

During the days of week I've learned a lot about MDM, Sourcing, Collaboration, SOA, EA M&As, Methodologies. I've learned so much that right now I feel like my brain might explode.

The evenings have brought numerous opportunities to network with other IT porfessionals facing the same challenges as myself as well as Gartner specialists who have provided key direction to help me approach these challenges.

I've twittered every step of the way. I've met some clever people. I've picked up real nuggets of insight. I'vve been disappointed by the number of women in attendance. I've been frustrated at the lack of thought leadership shown by the attendees. I've been angered by a man complaining about my typing during a session whilst ignoring the man snoring next to him.

I've been soaked in a downpour and nearly blown over in the wind. I wish I had enough time to have gotten sun kissed but find I am pale from spending 90% of my day in windowless, overheated rooms.

I've dropped my engagement ring down the bathroom sink in the hotel but didn't miss a session as the hotel pulled out all the stops to get a plumber to me within 30 minutes who lovingly recovered this prized possession. I've drank far too much coffee (and wine). I've worried about my son at home ill with swine flu without a mummy's loving embrace.

I engaged in philosophical debates about the gap in the IT haves and have nots and the value of Twitter. I debated the impact of out sourcing on the economies of emerging nations.

Am now ready to go home, hug my children, kiss my husband, and put everything I've learned to the test.

Cherbourg Day 2

We needed a rest. Every one of us were exhausted. Our muscles ached. Our minds were weary and our bodies weakened. We ate a large breakfast of croissants and pain au chocolate with large cups of coffee. We then set about getting the ourselves and the boat cleaned and tidied up. It was a mess. We were too. Feeling a bit better but not completely recovered we decided to have a look at Cite de la Mer (Museum of the Sea).

Walking on land felt very strange for the children and Abigail told us she felt drunk. I wonder how she knows what it feels like. We had a look at the reception area of the museum but balked at the 18 euro entrance fee per person since we wanted a diversion for a few hours rather than a full day.

We made a quick run to the market for a few provisions (mostly batteries for the GPS) and then prepared to set sail.

Now some of you may think us crazy for sailing after the ordeal of yesterday. But I knew that if we didn't get right back on the water my children may decide they didn't like sailing which just wouldn't do. Abigail had a bit of a moan saying she never wanted to sail again. So we locked her in the forward cabin (just kidding) and set off.

The sun was shining. The wind direction was perfect for the direction we wanted to go (and come back). It was warm and the sea was calm(ish). We assured the children this was not another epic journey.

Indeed it was a dream sail. At the end of the sail Abigail was even up on the side of the boat admitting that she was having a great time. Sebastian was starting to understand the science beyond the wind on the sails. We even got Kerry to have a steer at the helm. And she smiled the entire time. Yesterday we had numerous minor injuries: banged fingers, cut knuckles, bumped heades, bruised knees. Today it was a text book sail with everyone returning to port in a good mood. OK, that's if you don't count a couple failures to tack due to short boat speed but that's down to our own laziness.

Tomorrow unfortunately we won't be so lucky I fear. Hurrican Bill is headed our direction and a Force 7 won't do any of us any favours. We may head east up the coast to St Vaast. But I am slightly worried about the return journey. But today is Tuesday and I'm not going to worry about that. We will probably not have wi-fi there but don't worry about us if you don't hear.

We are having a blast!

The Channel Crossing Part 1

Arrived in Gosport on Sunday early evening full of optimism and high hopes for a pleasant crossing on Monday. Marc and I had decided that it was a great idea to take the children across the English channel to France on a sail boat. We invited two friends, Kerry and Eddie, to be crew. We hired a 38' Barvaria boat and carefully packed and planned. Marc got all of his required certifications in order. We were rearing to go.

Kerry and Eddie arrvied an hour or so after us and after getting the boat sorted we took the ferry over to Southampton and enjoyed a gorgeous dinner al fresco in some of the best summer weather we've had all year. My optimism swelled. This was going to be soooo much fun.

Sleep was hard to come by overnight as I was frightened we wouldn't wake up for the required silly early departure time. At 4:30 am I viewed Venus shining brightly in as the rising sun changed the colour of the sky to pale oranges, yellows and finally read marvelling at other people exhibiting equally poor judgement at this insane hour. I could see the weariness in their eyes and maybe for the first time thought this might not be such a good idea. Something about red sky in the morning = shepard's warning. Trying desperately not to panic or wake the rest of the boat I got the coffee on and prepared for a small, quick breakfast. Finally everyone one else stirred at 5:30 am and bang on 6:00 am we set off in a dead calm.

The first few hours the sea was like a mill pond. It was hard to believe that we weren't just on a small lake. No wind, no waves, no swell, and a strong tide in the opposite direction meant we were going nowhere fast. We motored for quite a bit although not nearly as long as we should have. Seb was desperate to sail so we prayed for wind. The power of our prayers for a bit more wind came in all at once. And then the seas roughened. The wind was right on our nose so we had the sails tight in and the boat was tipped right over so much that a simple cup of tea became an impossibility.

Abigail was the first sailor to feel the effects of the bopping and swaying. Kerry held her over the side right up until the point that Kerry started hurling over the side. This pattern continued for the remainder of the 15 hour epic journey. Thank goodness no one wanted to eat because we quite simply couldn't have made anything. Any more than 1 minute under deck and the tummy started doing somersaults. Sebastian only had one spectacular event hurling over the side.

But undoubtably the 1st pplace gold medal prize goes to Abigail who never whined, never cried, never moaned, never complained. She sat on deck in the spray, the wind, the cold and just hung on. Sebastian comes in at a close second by fortuitously lifting everyone's spirits at the very end of the journey when we all were disheatened and thoroughly fed up he started singing, telling jokes and stories, and pretending to surf. He helped to keep Abigail warm by cuddling up with her.

Abigial announced that she could hardly wait to get to France so she could have a croissant. We must have laughed for 30 minutes. Here this wee little angel was wet, cold, miserable with sick in her hair and all she wanted was a croissant. Bless her!

We finally entered the harbour and moored at the marina. I have never been happier. Abigail and I went for a hot hot hot shower whilst the boys prepared some soup and bagels.

It could have been so much worse. It could have been raining. It could have been colder. The wind could have been stronger. The waves could have been bigger. The children coul dhave been crying and freezing. And althought it was the worst sea conditions I've ever sailed in, I am so proud of my children and us as a family. This was an adventure of a lifetime. And it's only just begun!

Paris 2009

I remember the very first time I went to Paris. I walked out of Gare du Nord and asked my travelling companion to pinch me. I asked her to do it again as we approached the Eiffel Tower. My love affair with Paris has never died. Although with a new family of 2 toddlers it isn't really the first choice of holiday destinations, my obsession with Paris had cooled.

My mother had never been to Paris and it was definitely on her bucket list of things to do in her lifetime. It seemed a logical conclusion then that after a few days at Disneyland we would move on over to the City of Lights.

And so we made our way to Paris via the RER (train). As we began the walk to our hotel I realised that one of the streets we were walking down was clearly a red light district as I hurried the children past the doors of establishments with women in their lingerie lounging about. Luckily the children didn't even notice. Well, not that first night anyway. Seb did ask a few nights later why those women always had their pajamas on and I left Marc to answer that one.

We checked in and once mom got over the shock of there not being an elevator in the hotel we set off for the short walk up to Sacre Coeur for the breath taking view. We had dinner at a lovely (if a little touristy) restaurant and sighed at Paris by night.

We fit in the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and the Arc de Triomphe the next day. We caught some staggering performances by street musicians.

We found an excellent guide to 12 Renaissance masters to help the children (and us) navigate the Louvre. The children loved looking for dogs and parrots and various assorted oddities in the paintings.

We enjoyed the sweet delights of Angelina's on the rue de Rivoli and watched a street protest of teachers. what is Paris without a protest march?

We savoured the culinary delights at the Grizzli Cafe as they tolerated our atrocious attempts at mastering the French language.

The children ran around the Pompidou Centre whilst we sat at an outdoor cafe drinking beers and cafe au lait (not together).

We only got grandma trapped in a turnstile once (which left a hideous bruise) and knocked her glasses off her face once (another wee bruise). Marc and I got off a metro without grandma and the children only once so we must try harder to lose them next time.

On the way home we met a mad French woman (who face painted Abigail) and a lovely Italian couple whilst we enjoyed some seriously smelly French cheese and baguette.

A trip full of a lifetime of memories!

Journey to France

I'm not even sure where to start.....so I'll start at the very beginning.

Once upon a time.....no wait that will take too much time. OK, I will stick to the highlights and some low lights.

Day 1

We set off in a taxi from home to Heathrow Terminal 5 with a plan to catch the underground there to St Panscras station in London where we were due to hop on the EuroStar bound for Paris. We managed to pack gear for 3 adults and 2 children in 2 large suitcases, very large. Then we had the assorted camera bag, handbags, briefcases (with laptops and required reading, Abigail's Dora the Explorer pull along and Sebastian's elephant backpack with Nintendo DS lite bits and bobs. Not as light as I would have hoped but the best we could manage for a 6 day trip.

We reached Gare du Nord and bought what we thought were the appropriate tickets to Marnee de Vallee (the end of the line and location of the famed Disneyland). After an hour tube journey out to the back of beyond Paris we had just the final leg to go. We got to the gates, put in our tickets and it wouldn't let us out. We had purchased the wrong tickets. It was late on Sunday night and the station was abandoned. Marc pushed the red button fro assistance and the gate opened and he and the children went through. My mother made a mad dash for it and only made it halfway. The gates closed and trapped her. I began frantically pushing the red assistance button and the french went right out of my head as I was trying to explain that my mother was trapped, my husband and children were on the other side of the gate and we didn't have the right ticket.

As if by magic the gates opened again, releasing my mother and allowing me to pass through. Phew!

We stood on the street looking round the ghost town that was the location of our hotel. We were staying at the Adagio Apartments off the Disneyland Park and it would appear that no one cared. After several increasingly frantic moments my mother hailed us a small taxi. We crammed in the luggage and ourselves and after just 5 minutes we were relieved of an extortionate fee for the taxi but hey, we were at our humble abode for the next 3 days.

We grabbed a bit to eat in the shopping precinct next door and settled in for the excitement of Disneyland Paris tomorrow!

No Sunshine in Cannes

It has been raining for 4 solid days in Cannes. Not drizzly annoying rain. Sheets of water fall and the wind whips the umbrellas inside out all day and all night.

Most of the day is spent inside the conference centre so you can forget about the miserable weather outside but you can't escape it when you make the mad dash back to your hotel room. Or attend a session outside the main Palais de Festival.

Upon arrival your feet and shoes are soaked. The bottoms of your trousers can be wrung out. There is no standing on the promenade enjoying the view of the Med washing up on the sand and the warmth of the sun on your face. Your hair which looked great when you left your room in the morning has taken on the look of a drowned dog and your mascara is running down your cheek.

I will be glad to return home to my children and husband tomorrow afternoon.

Elvis Appreciation Day

I have a new found admiration/obsession with Elvis. Yes, I know he is dead but you would have thought differently if you had been out with me last night.

The Gartner IT Symposium always throws a big bash on the last night of the conference. The theme for last night's free food/booze bonanza was Groove Generation. They took over the Carlton InterContinental on La Croisette in Cannes. Every room and some temporarily constructed rooms were decorated with a different theme. The details included serving food and drinks typical of that era. And there were loads of celebrity singer/performer look alikes.

There was the 70s room with a disco ball and Barry White performing. OK, he didn't look or sound at all like Barry White. And disco music provided a prime opportunity for IT professionals to prove they can't dance either.

In the 90s room was a Kylie Minogue look alike but she never sang. This had the worst food. It seems we all just ate raw vegetables that decade.

Sir Paul McCartney look alike in the 60s room nor the Sir Elton John look alike (who wondered through all the rooms) did not perform but they were chatting with all the guests and I think there a photos of me and Sir Elton talking about his home up the road from mine!

We couldn't quite figure out what was going on in the 00s room. It was very quiet and the food consisted of sandwiches. What will history say about that era?

The best room by far was the 50s room. I know I wasn't born then. But I have always loved the music. They had candy floss (cotton candy) and milkshakes and popcorn. But the best thing about the room was the Elvis impersonator who sang, danced, moved and smiled just like Elvis. This man had the hips aswaying, the lip aquivering and the hair aflipping. He even sweat like Elvis.

I've got some photos and when I get back from my mobile connection here in Cannes I will upload them and you can make your own judgement.

My colleague, Jane*, and I swooned and screamed on queue. I felt like I wanted a poodle skirt and a pony tail.

Considering there weren't many females appreciating this man's talents, he really played up to us and I swear he sang Teddy Bear directly to me. My colleagues had to keep reminding me that the real Elvis was dead.

We missed his second act due the particularly addictive tunes in the 80s room which pretty much played the soundtrack of my life. Archie** amazed me when he proved he is almost as good with lyrics as I am! Elvis was disappointed when we saw him later and he told us we had missed him. Not nearly as disappointed as I was. And then I realised he was English and whilst he could do a wicked Nashville accent he was really from London. Disillusion sets in!

Back home tonight on the last flight out of Cannes to Heathrow. Can hardly wait to kiss my children in their beds as they sleep. Oh, and cuddle up to my husband! Maybe we can listen to Elvis. I want to learn how to jitterbug!

* Once again, as requested, names have been changed to protect the guilty. These people just don't live on the edge and out in the open. But I'll respect that!
** If only you knew his real name....

IT Professionals

I look around this conference which has roughly 6,000 attendees I reckon. And I'll tell you what I see:

• IT professionals are male. 90% of the session attendees are men. I've been doing a rough count of the female to male ratio when I enter session. Could be the women are elsewhere but I don't see them at lunch either. This is the only place where the queue is for the gents toilet and not the ladies.
• IT professionals are old. 85% appear to be over the age of 45 years. Grey and/or balding heads dominate the landscape. This flies in the face of everything I have been reading from US publications....
• IT professionals have bad dress sense, no individual style little outwardly apparent creativity or individuality. Dull blue suits, red ties, grey shirts that probably used to be white appears to be the dress code. I missed that memo.
• IT professionals have no sense of humour. Gartner presenters are for the most part some of the most talented and knowledgeable public speakers I have ever seen. And they are funny. They seamlessly weave humour into their presentations. None of the session attendees laugh. that means they have all either gone to sleep or don't get it. Both are equally possible.
• IT professionals lack some fairly basic social skills. A colleague of mine and I have sat at lunch tables with IT professionals from other organisations and whilst we attempted to engage with them, they failed to return the favour. With a notable exception last night when a helpful Gartner consultant (Thanks, Shannon!), I have failed to network with any interesting individuals. Could be my failure. I doubt it.
  

I feel sooooooo alone!

WARNING: This is not a scientific poll. And I am in Europe where I think the demographics for the industry are skewed from the rest of the world for reasons I cannot even bear to entertain.

Laugh til you Cry

I have found that the best stress relief is laughter. Not polite giggles. Not the mild haha chuckle you hear when they just don't get it. I mean laughing so hard tears are running down your face, snot is blowing out of your nose, your face turns red, and your belly begins to ache when you are doubled over.

You can keep your meditation. You can keep your kickboxing. You can keep your chanting.

I find that having a proper laugh can relieve all my stress.

Last week, I was in a meeting with the managers who work for me. Some of them attended the meeting via teleconference. The meeting ended and I needed to speak to a couple of colleagues about one of the subjects discussed.

Helen* grabbed Kate and we reconvened in the conference room. We were all women in the room and Helen asked if we had seen a programme on television the night before about how to "spice" up your marriage. We started chatting about the content of the programme. Then we heard a voice over the speaker phone from one of my male managers asking us if we needed them to stay on the line for this.

WE nearly died. We disconnected the teleconference immediately and burst into laughter so hard we all had mascara running down our faces from our tears. We still can't look each other in the eye without bursting into fits of giggles.

Last night, the group of colleagues at the conference sat down at a bar on the beach after dinner. Deb** recalled a story about a trip to Belfast for Christmas with her husband and small children that was a mere catalog of catastrophes. She was laughing so hard she struggled to speak. Everyone around the table could relate to the story and was laughing as hard if not harder than she was. Deb is very professional in the office and it was nice to see this side of her. It strengthened our working relationship and relieved some of the stress that comes with travelling with work colleagues.

Today, I am missing home. I miss my children. I miss my husband. But having a laugh last night made it a wee bit easier.

* Names have been changed to protect the identity of the jokers!
** Not her real name either!

Bon Jour

Am posting from France. Hate to say this but we are having a great time. The weather is beautiful. Even the food is great although it is buffet style.... Hotel room has view of sea!

Had quite a long day yesterday that started at 4 am and didn't end until after midnight.

Have colleagues standing behind me waiting for me so we can all go out for a drink and a bite or several of both.

Hope to find a bit more time to write. In the mean time visit my sister's blog and make her write something!

France - Episode 8

This morning was going to be our last chance to hit the beach as a group since the Millichamp family were leaving on Friday midday. We loaded all the beach gear up after enjoying yet another breakfast of fresh croissants and pan au chocolate and headed for what was touted as the best beach nearby at St Germain sur Ay. the weather was partly sunny/partly cloudy (depending on your mood) and windy. And the beach was infected with loads of seaweed and these baby hopping crustaceans. But it didn't matter, Darn it, we were at the beach!

As we were setting up the wind block and the beach blankets I looked up to the vision of Abigail stark naked streaking down the beach towards the waves. I had to chase her down and explain to her that's not how it's done. Man, was she disappointed.

We built some sand castles and flew some kites and read some magazines and just generally relaxed.

After a few hours of this we set off to get lunch in Periers, a small village not far from our gite. We found a real gem at the hotel de Normandie. A very local place with a very small menu served us the best lunch EVER. Simple and inexpensive and delicious. The children had homemade (from scratch) turkey cordon blue.

We returned to the direction of the beach and went for play at a playground that we found near the beach. The most amusing bit was watching the French children trying to speak to the English children and not being entirely sure why they couldn't understand each other.

That evening Sean treated us to dinner and made Coq au Vin (chicken baked in red wine with mushrooms, onions, and red peppers). We complimented his gourmet efforts with green beans, roasted potatoes and carrots. We stayed up playing Rummikub which at last Helen did NOT win. Sean did!

The next day saw the Millichamp family off back to England by midday as Sean & Helen were going to the V Music Festival on Saturday afternoon. The Clare-Panton family set off north this time towards Cherbourg.

Cherbourg is a very large and busy port. And it is dirty and rundown. We had the worst and most expensive meal ever. And it was a restaurant recommended the Normandy Lonely Planet Guide. Man, was I cross?

We continued our exploring by driving along the Rout de Saire (which is the coastal road of the Cherbourg peninsula). Once you got away from Cherbourg it was beautiful. We drove across the peninsula to Barfleur and enjoyed a cafe au lait and ice lollies at a lovely cafe. The children ordered for themselves all in French. I was so proud!

We then continued our drive round the peninsula and headed for Utah Beach. Omaha Beach has been cleared of all the artifacts of war, like the German Bunkers. Utah Beach has left these in place and you can go and walk through many of them. You can see the scars left by the Allied bombings has they fought to wrest control away from the Germans. Utah Beach is somehow not as beautiful as Omaha but no less poignant. The cliffs of Utah Beach are not as steep as the cliffs of Omaha but the fortifications left behind give the visitor a sense of what the troops faced once they came up over the cliffs.

All this war memorabilia made me want to go back and watch Saving Private Ryan and Band of Brothers all over again.

The family returned to Periers and the Hotel de Normandie (the same place we went to for lunch the day before) for dinner. We got there at 20 minutes to 7 and waited for them to open at 7. By the time we got in, the place was jammed full of French people. We only just got a table and enjoyed yet another delicious meal. The dessert of creme caramel is to die for and I wouldn't even share that with my children! I made them get their own!

I had some oysters (which I LOVED!!!!!). I offered some to Sebastian and Abigail who didn't seem to keen. After a few minutes Sebastian replied back to me, "When I am 11, I will be old enough to eat oysters, so we must came back then and I will have one of your oysters." Sounds like a plan!

We returned to our gite and began the packing for our long journey home the next day. It was a long never ending drive. We set off around 10 am and swung by Hambye to visit our friend, Peter, who has a beautiful old house that is set against the walls of the fortified city and castle that used to be there. It is amazing at the amount of history just hanging out in his garden.

There were queues at every toll booth (again) and at one point we were fearful we weren't going to make it to the ferry on time. As we pulled in we were one of the last cars to join the queue. There was an emergency situation on the ferry docked next to ours and an ambulance as well as numerous police cars did board that ferry. However they must have disembarked after we were loaded as that ferry left port just immediately before us. Not sure what happened there.

We enjoyed the relaxing ride back (despite a packed ferry) and marveled at the White Cliffs of Dover. Home was a quick journey round the M25. Murphy, our cat, greeted us at the bottom of the driveway. He had obviously missed us loads! We unloaded the suitcases, started some laundry and hit the comfort of our own beds.

Stay tuned for camping adventures!

PS One fatality of our France trip was our goldfish, Toby. It seems that our neighbour, Richard, fed the fish on Sunday (after we left) but forgot to tell Lucy, his wife, about feeding the fish. So whilst Richard was working up in Edinburgh all week Lucy happily fed Murphy but knew nothing about the existence or requirements of our beloved goldfish. Hence, Toby was belly up on Sunday night when we returned home.

We kept this all a secret from the children and whilst we were camping, Toby 2 miraculously arrived in the tank. He looks remarkably similar to the original Toby and the children haven't noticed a thing!

France - Episode 7

Mont St Michel has always been a source of wonder for me. I've seen numerous photos of it and it is 1 of the items listed in the book 1,000 places to see before you die. We set off fairly early for our bunch and headed south. It was a bit of a drive and you knew we were getting close as the traffic iincreased.

But the scene is breathtaking when you catch a glimpse the very first time and makes the wait worthwhile.

We parked with the million other tourists and walked towards the Mont.

We had all agreed at breakfast that La Mer Poulard would be our choice for lunch. It is restaurant that is recommended by 3 tourist guides and has won numerous awards. It has been in existence since 1888 and is considered one of the best restaurants in all of France. And it is not expensive!

I thought I had made myself perfectly clear that this is what we were doing. This was the one and only thing that was not a topic of discussion during our entire holiday. Oh, but not everyone understood this!

As we walked into the walls of the Mont the restaurant stood on our right and I pointed out to Sean that this was where we were eating. He said no, he preferred to go further into the town. I stood there gobsmacked. Not wanting to rock the boat and create tension I just went along with it. We ended up passing all the restaurants on the ascent up the hill and had to come partly down to go to the last one we passed.

Don't get me wrong. We had a brilliant meal of lobster at Les Terassess Poulard. They had goodie bags for the children (which oddly they delivered at the end of the meal). I had oysters, prawns and the cockles thingies (that I won't ever order again if I can avoid it).

It was a good thing we ate so much. We began the brutal assault climbing the steps up to the top. Even little Lottie did it although it was touch and go at the beginning. The children had a blast running around this ancient building and going through all the various rooms. The architecture is spectacular.

I was a bit put off by my vertigo which I discovered when I lived in Germany. Going up and down spiral staircases (especially really old ones) sends frightens the heck out of me. I now had responsibility for getting Abigail down a spiral staircase and I was frozen in space and time. Abigail looked up at me and asked if I needed her help. I could have died!

The climb down was easy as most of the tourist had made a run for it. You have to vacate your vehicle from the car park before high tide or the cars go under! This mass exodus made for a frustrating departure hindered by the inefficiencies of the French gendarme (police). It took quite a while to get home but we managed.

That evening I taught Sean & Helen (again) how to play Farco. This is a dice game that is played addictively in my family. At their request I've written up the instructions and point scoring and will publish the post shortly. Oddly, Helen took forever to get on the board. Everyone else was well on their way to finishing before she managed it. and then she won. How did she do that? Was she cheating at Farco as well? Can you cheat at Farco? At this point, I was wondering if we should play any more games with Helen!

By the way I took way too many photos to include here. I have now managed to load all of our pics on to Flickr. Clicking this link will take you directly to the photo set. Feel free to leave comments!

France - Episode 6

It was a late start to the morning and we had a big breakfast. Then off to Bayeux to see the world famous tapestry.

It didn't start off very well. The skies were dark and the air was damp (again). Just finding the place was difficult. The sign for the parking led us on a wild goose chase and a parking lot miles from the museum which meant we had to walk through all the tourist traps.

There were no signs to the museum and when we asked for directions we were given a route which was very circuitous when we later realised we just needed to cross the road and walk straight on.

The museum itself was not child friendly. All the exhibits were high so the children couldn't see anything. Then we were herded into a cinema to watch a documentary film. Thank goodness it was only 15 minutes long or we really would have had a little people meltdown.

But then the real trouble set in. Given the age of our traveling companions we had to stop at the toilets which meant we were the last ones to join the queue to see the actual tapestry. We waited in the queue for 90 minutes. On numerous occasions Helen and I threatened to just walk out. There was nothing for the children to do and they were bored stiff.

When we got to the front of the queue we were given little handsets with an audio tour. the children were given a separate audio targeted specifically for them. At first glance this appears to be a great idea. In reality we realised that the children's tour went at a different pace than the adult tour so whilst the adults were at partition 17, the children were on partition 14. Not so good!

The younger children lost attention halfway through although the girls, Lottie & Abby just pretended they were telephones and had a great time. Seb listened to every word.

And if you could get past all the bad things the work is really remarkable. Stitched in the 11th century it was meant to be used like a propaganda tool to communicate to a largely illiterate population and inform them about the Story of William the Conqueror and the activities of 1066, specifically the Battle of Hastings. It was an effort to win the hearts and minds of the general population. The detail is remarkable and the condition of the fabric is astounding although you can see the minor repairs here and there. Not bad for an embroidered cloth almost 1000 years old! My embroidery was never this good.....

Lunch was chaos and was an example of the French rudeness. I know lots of people complain that the French are rude but I have to say those occasions for me have been few and far between. I've had more German rude to me than French. but when the French are rude, they are spectacularly rude. We were rushing for the 2 pm cutoff (again) and found a cafe. The only seating for 8 was outdoors which wasn't ideal because it was grey and chilly but we sat down.

Then it started to rain. We tried to get under cover of the canopy. We tried to move indoors. and then the waitress took away our menus and refused to speak to us. She went out to the back of the restaurant and ignored us. She wouldn't return. Well, Helen and I had had enough. We left which is obviously what the waitress had been hoping for!

We ended up at a corner cafe. Got Croque Monsieurs for everyone, sat the children on high stools and the adults stood under the canopies eating the lunch in the pouring rain. We were wet and cold. Oddly, only the adults were complaining. The children took it in stride!

In hindsight, this makes me laugh But at the time, we were so frustrated I wanted to just fly home!

On the way home we decided to do some Calvados, Cidre (apple alcoholic) & Pommeau tasting. Well, Helen & I did - the men were driving! We headed back towards the beaches of Normandy where we had seen loads of places.

At the first stop, we tried some Calvados. it nearly killed all ofus and we decided that would be the first and last time we ever tried that!

The next place we went to was a real find. In a farm courtyard there was a local produce market. They sold all the local delicacies including tripe, snails, foie gras, oysters, fresh strawberries, vegetables, cheese and of course, pommeau & cidre. We passed on a couple things but after tasting the pommeau & cidre bought some of that as well as some cheese and strawberries. We would have bought some oysters but we didn't have an oyster knife back at the gite so we passed.

The funniest part was watching Marc try to buy cheese in French. He always gets a wee bit embarrassed but after a bit of encouragement he spoke up and managed to buy 3 delicious cheeses!

That evening we all went out for dinner in La Haye du Puits at La Rose des Verts. This was a bit of a mess in that the children were served and finished with their meals long before the adult had even received their main course. We were saved by the ice cream!

The evening passed with more wine, cheese and crudely named card games. Helen won again! Darn it!

France - Episode 5

I have always wanted to see the beaches of Normandy, France and pay my respect and give my thanks to all those mothers, daughters, wives and sister who gave their sons, fathers, husbands and brothers to the cause. I learned by reading and television and films that these beaches were hard fought and I could only imagine what it must have been like.

Our first stop was at the German War Memorial. These were enemies but also sons, fathers, husbands and brothers who similarly fought and fell. Just for the wrong side. They were still loved. And still missed. Our visit was made all the more necessary when Sebastian asked where we were going and I told him. He replied "But they were Germans." Already his sharp little mind had formed a prejudice. I explained to him that during a war there are always at least 2 sides. One side will be the victor and one side will be defeated but they all are human beings who had someone who loved them at home and they deserve to be recognised as fallen. What they did was wrong. But I felt it was important to see that war is bad all round. The graves of the unknown soldiers are marked "Ein Deutscher Soldat" - One German Soldier.

We then headed for Omaha Beach. We had a slight misstep with the sat nav when it took us beyond where the street signs were instructing us to depart the motorway only to discover that the road layout had been changed dramatically since the sat nav map was updated and we had to come back on ourselves quite a bit.

This meant that we were running up against that French lunch hour thingy. You gotta eat between 12 and 2 pm or you just don't eat. So we stopped off at Arromanche which I must say wasn't in the list of top 10 things to see but food trumps sight seeing every time.

It proved to be quite an educational stop. Arromanche was 1 of 2 ports erected immediately following the D-Day landings to bring supplies to the troops. It was made of 146 cement caissons towed across the channel from England. through this port passed 2.5 million men, 4 million tons of equipment and 500,000 vehicles. It helped cement (no pun intended) just how big the invasion was.

After suitably admiring what is left of the port we stopped off for our lunch at what can only be described as the French version of Denny's. I had mussels with creme/white wine sauce & chips. The children and Marc had croque monsieurs and ham and chips. Abby stayed true to form and ate just her chips. Seb loved the ham!

We then carried on with our original plan and headed off to the American Military Museum at Omaha Beach. The drive was fascinating as one imagined these roads being marched by the troops and the villages being freed by the Allies.

The museum was brilliant. Poignant and sad but also demonstrated the bravery and courage using films and artifacts of real people some who lived to tell the tales and others who died on the battlefields. The artifacts included ration kits, shovels, helmets, field phones. This made it all very real, especially for Sebastian who had just studied WW2 at school last year.

My favourite part was the beautiful infinity pool that looked out over the beaches and met the sea. Omaha Beach is a gorgeous sandy expanse upon which you cannot simply imagine the death and destruction. That is, until you enter the cemetery.

There you are confronted with the graves of 9,386 American soldiers. 14,000 soldiers have been repatriated to the USA since the museum was built. Sebastian stopped in his tracks as he gazed out over the white crosses and stars of David. he asked me if these were the soldiers that died in the War. I explained it was only some of them and that many many more had died. He sat down and cried.

We sat and talked a bit about war and why it is bad and how it should always be avoided but that these men who had fallen were doing the right thing, their duty and that sometimes war is a necessary evil. He then explained to me that there must surely have been another way. I hope he carries that view throughout his life.

After spending a bit of time wondering around the cemetery and the various monuments we headed off to play and fly kites on Omaha Beach which would be strange if it wasn't such a glorious beach. The weather was lovely and sunny. Abigail immediately headed off to the waves as Marc and Seb got out the kites. It was a great couple of hours.

We headed back to the gite (after a fun stop at the fresh fruit & vegetable stand) where we met up with Sean & Helen who had left the museum early (but went and played on Omaha Beach as well). We had a BBQ and the children went for a swim.

The adults stayed up well into the night playing a rudely named card game taught to us by Helen. She won every game and it appeared the rules kept changing. But we did have quite a bit of wine to drink so who knows. Another night of laughs!

France - Episode 4

The Millichamp family takes quite a different approach to holidays than the Clare-Panton family. They love to go somewhere and relax. I tend to take a more go go go approach. These 2 different approaches actually compliment each other rather well. We found this out a few years ago when we all went on holiday together to the Dordogne in France. One day of relaxing, sitting by the pool and doing a whole lot of nothing was balanced by the next day of tourist activity to the nearest sight (like going to St Emillion for wine tassting) or seeing the ancient cave paintings at Grotte de Font-de-Gaume (which, by the way, if you haven't seen, you must).

This was easy to do when we had 2 weeks to fit everything in. However, we had booked just a 7 days of holiday and 2 of those were to be spent travelling so we knew we would have to take a different approach. Plus Lottie has been born since then (Helen was pregnant with her during our last holiday) and the children are older. How does that happen?

Also, last time we stayed in one huge villa whereas this time (due to our late booking) we were staying in 2 villas across from each other. Not a million miles but still not the same as in the same house. Sean found the 2 differnt kitchens really uncomfortable and irritating. Of course, Helen and I just coped. I hadn't really scoped out what we were going to do which day but I knew there were a couple of must see things.

Also, the weather wasn't brilliant. Every single minute of every single day we were in France, the skies threatened to open up and dump on us. It was nippy in the air. I had packed for HOT summer August in France weather. I had one cardigan. Abigail had one cardigan. Seb had a sweatshirt. Marc had none, nada, sip, zilch! I had one pair of trousers. Abigail had one pair of cropped trousers. We were cold the entire trip.

After a leisurely breakfast of fresh croissants and pain au chocolat picked up at the local bakery and eaten at the table outside our gite that very morning, Helen and I spent the first morning in the supermarket planning our meals for the week. There are few things I enjoy more than a leaisurely stroll through a French supermarket. Oh, I just swoon over the cheeses and the fish and the wine and the breads and the vegetables and everything else! Whilst in the Dordogne I had taught everyone had to make and eat artichokes. You can get the best artichokes in France and this trip didn't let us down either!

Once we returned home and unpacked our shopping we decided that since this was the first day and we were all tired from all the travelling we would keep the day's activities simple. We packed ourselves all up ready for the Beach and headed off to the plage (beach) at St Germain-sur-Ay which we had been assured by our host was the closest and best local beach.

Just as we arrived after a short 10 minute journey, the rains began to fall. Heavily. So we headed back home and decided to regroup.

Helen spotted a Chateau on the map that was near our gite so off we went. We pulled up in Pirou to where the sat nav had led us and looked at each other a bit bemused and perplexed. What we could see looked more like an old church rather than a Chateau.

We followed the path around the side of the church and the Chateau ruins appeared before us. Chateau de Gratot in Pirou was built in 1250 and had been modified over the following 500 years. It belonged to the D'Argonge family. In the 19th century it fell into disrepair and the French histroical society is working hard to restore it. the hcildren particulary enjoyed the Fairy Tower and all that implies. It was an enchanting experience.

We then headed off to Coutances to visit the magnificent Cathedral. I am now going to link to the Wikipedia article about the Coutances cathedral because I actaully wrote this Wikipedia article and it would be pointless to write it all again here and I want to show off just a little bit my burgeoining Wikipedia skills. (Please Note: this is my first Wikipedia contribution).

All the children race around the cathedral and departed quickly to head for some promised drinks at the cafe in the square. Except for Sebastian. Who painstakingly hauled Marc and I down every Nave into every Chapel, looking at every stained glass window. We even stopped and lit a candle in remembrance of Nanny. He solemnly stood and said his own private prayer. he noticed so many details I would have missed.

Before heading home we stopped at the local cafe in the square for a cup of cafe au lait (for the adults) and jus de pomme (apple juice) for the children.

Dinner was a BBQ in the courtyard of our gite! Perfect!

France - Episode 3

Our villas were very nice. There were 3 buildings: the main house, the Owl cottage (which had wheelchair access, and the Chestnut cottage which we stayed in. The other half of our cottage was another cottage which slept 8 and had another English family staying in it. The place is owned by Dia & Sue, a Scottish couple.

The main house was covered in ivy and was absolutely beautiful. Both of our cottages had 2 bedrooms and 1 bathroom.

Upon arrival the first thing we did was take a swim. the pool was above ground quite a ways so we couldn't leave the children alone because they kept wanting to get up on the edge and it was a rather long fall off the side. The water was cold when you first got in but you warmed up pretty quickly.

We dried off, warmed up, unpacked, and went into Periers (a small town 6 kilometers away) for dinner at a place called Les Snekkja, a local restaurant. Didn't look like much from the outside but we had a fabulous meal. The children ate galettes (whole meal crepes) filled with cheese and ham, although we ordered just cheese filling. Seb ate for England but Abigail started a habit of the trip and just ate the frites (french fries).

Helen, Sean, Marc and I had a salade has a starter which was divine. I had tagliatelle with smoked salmon, mushrooms and cream which was delicious. Marc & Helen split a goat cheese tart and a pork steak with pepper sauce between them. Sean had a beef steak which he said was a bit tough. The rest of us were in culinary heaven. Dessert were crepes all round with cream, chocolate & ice cream.

This was simple French food. It was fresh and delicious.

I have to say at this point that Helen was having a serious life changing moment during this holiday. As long as I have known Helen (over 8 years now), she has not been able to smell. At all. Which is very strange to me. I'm a very smelly person. No, i don't smell badly. I just smell everything. I love lotions & potions that smell great. I love perfumes and the smell of food cooking. I've often asked her if this didn't also affect her sense of taste. She has always denied that it hasn't.

A few days before we went away Helen at last saw a ear, nose & throat specialist after living with this plugged up sinuses condition fro 35 years. He prescribed some steroids and nose drops and her life has changed. The first few days of our holiday she walked around telling us everything she smelled. And then it dawned on her she did have a diminished sense of taste. And what a wonderful place to be when you get it all back.

Helen was overwhelmed at the smells of the French supermarket. I mean, the smell of the cheeses can really knock a person over even when you are accustomed to it. But to smell it for the very first time. I thought she was going to have a seizure.

We stayed up late both Saturday and Sunday nights sitting out in the nippy weather to catch the Perseid meteor shower. When we saw our first shooting star Sean exclaimed that this was probably the very first time that he had ever seen a shooting star. And was a great shower it was. Some of the meteors were very bright and left long trails streaking across the dark night sky. There were no clouds and no moon so it was excellent viewing conditions.

We finished off 5 bottles of wine, had cricks in our necks from looking upwards and were frozen to the bone but both nights were fabulous times spent with fabulous friends filled with laughter!

France - Episode 2

Found our way out of Calais without any problems (thanks again to the sat nav). And off we set at a lightening pace to drove west across the breadth of France.

Ah, but not so fast! We are traveling with 4 children. Abigail got her hair caught in the Velcro on Sebastian baseball cap and we couldn't undo whilst moving. Marc pulled the car over and just yanked. Ouch!

The French do build bridges. Much like the Swiss build tunnels. We went over several on our journey, the most notable one being the Pont du Normandie. It is huge and rises quite a bit. I had a mild anxiety attack as we started our ascent thinking about the bridge that just collapsed in Minneapolis. Oh, please, tell me they invested appropriate funds to build this bridge!

Our first stop for fuel was a bit odd. It was nothing more than a pump on its own. The children needed a toilet and we needed diesel so we got back on the motorway. The next stop for fuel demonstrated why I was not so keen on a France holiday in August.

Every French person goes on holiday in August. The queue at the petrol station had 10 queues of 8 cars each. There was a French woman at the front conducting the traffic in and out of the station.

Once gassed up, we went on for a bit and at our midway point we stopped for a quick picnic. The children played and ran off some energy. Then came toilet time. The French have never been known for their ability to conquer something as fundamental as toilet sanitation and this trip just proved that they still have a long way to go.

I took Abigail off to the little building marked toilet. I opened the door and there was a hole in the ground with two places to put your feet on either side. And no toilet paper (loo roll) at all! Not even on offer. Seems it plugs up the plumbing!

Abigail freaked out. She started shaking her head and wagging her finger saying "No, no, no, no!" At which point I decided I needed to set a good example here or this was going to be a long trip. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. When in France, pee over holes and don't wipe. Once I showed her what to do, she was up for it. I removed her little panties, she held her dress up and I dangled her over the hole. I am soooo grateful I dressed her in a dress. Poor little Lottie refused completely and decided holding it for all eternity was a better option.

Back on the road, there were queues at every toll booth (payage) which was VERY frustrating. just as we would get a rhythm going, we'd be stopped dead in our tracks. You would think the French would figure out a better way to do this! It seems they used the toilet engineer rather than the bridge engineer to design the motorway system.

We had trouble finding the last little bit of our way to the villa as the sat nav couldn't figure it out. Eventually, we found it! We reached our final destination around 5:30 pm local time (1 hour more than Greenwich Mean Time-London) which amounted to just under 10 hours door to door.

France - Episode 1

August 11 was our very own D-Day, Departure Day. The day before we had seen Bailey off to the dog sitter. We have arranged a service that takes the dog to other people's home. The home typically has another dog and the one we picked also has children. We hope he had lots of fun whilst we were gone. We get him delivered back to us today. The thought didn't stop me from shedding a few tears when he went on his very own holiday without us.

We set off at 7:07 am which was about 37 minutes later than the plan. I was very worried we weren't going to make the ferry on time. According to the sat nav we had a 2 hours journey ahead of us and the ferry was due to leave at 9:20. We were scheduled to meet the Millichamp family (our travelling companion family) on 8:45 and they had our tickets.

The expert driving of my husband and the early Saturday morning hour allowed us to make up some significant time on the motorway. We exchanged text messages on the very last best with Helen identifying where they were in relation to where we were to find they were just behind us. I love technology!

We arrived at the ferry port at 8:32 am in plenty of time. I have never taken a ferry from Dover so it was the first time I had ever seen the white cliffs of Dover! Stunning.

The ferry was fully booked. Finding a table for 8 on a crowded ferry is no small feat. The men were sent to rustle up breakfast and Helen & I secured a table with 4 VERY excited children bouncing off the walls.

Upon their return, we are not entirely sure who the men thought they were buying breakfast for. There appeared to be a shortage of food and my guess is the men forgot to buy breakfast for their wives. Didn't matter.....I had my coffee and the children were suitably nourished.

After breakfast we sat up on deck as we approached the shores of France. It was a good beginning!

Intermission

We arrived back into the UK yesterday evening and home about 9pm. I've got loads of pictures and stories for everyone.

One casualty of the trip was our beloved goldfish, Toby. Our neighbours forgot to feed him and he went to goldfish heaven. Hoping the children won't notice before we can replace him.

After going through our stack of post, we enjoyed a good night's rest in our own beds with our cat, Murphy, sleeping at our feet. He really missed us! Bailey comes home today.

I've got to unpack, do laundry and repack for our camping trip. We are scheduled to leave tomorrow morning. It is raining now and the forecast is for rain until tomorrow midday. The thought of camping with 2 children and 1 dog in the rain is not appealing.

Will try to get as many pics and stories loaded today in between everything else.

France

We are off to France this morning (hence the early morning - silly hour post). I am going to try to post whilst on the road but I don't have much faith that it is going to work. So you will all just have to read some other blogs.....this post has some really good ideas!

Blogs to Read

Or you could just wait patiently for my return.