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Posts Tagged ‘easter’

There are some things that I love about Paris. Stopping by the boulangerie and buying a baguette that is still warm from the oven is one of those things that you just don’t get somewhere else.

I walked past a parade of children today, dressed up for Easter. They must have been five or six years old, and it looked like they had decorated their own costumes. There were angels, bunnies, and human Easter eggs – all walking in an orderly line, playing tambourines and singing.

A little while later, a congregation from the Église de Saint-Germain-des-Prés set off in a procession through the streets of the neighbourhood, following a large cross – I assume a service of the stations of the cross.

We’re off to the south of France for a few days for Easter. The weather report is predicting rain for our entire stay.

At least I have some fresh bread to look forward to.

A few more pictures from Easter Sunday in the South of France…

There are definitely worse places to spend a Sunday afternoon...

There are definitely worse places to spend a Sunday afternoon…

Aude's mother, hard at work preparing Easter lunch

Aude’s mother, hard at work preparing Easter lunch

Minouche watches everything from the garden

Minouche watches everything from the garden

Jerome and Liher relax with a book before lunch

Jerome and Liher relax with a book before lunch

Even if my parents couldn't be here in person, they were with us in spirit!

Even if my parents couldn’t be here in person, they were with us in spirit!

Aude has always been rubbish at hide-and-seek

Aude has always been rubbish at hide-and-seek

Aude and her mother in the March sunshine

Aude and her mother in the March sunshine

Jerome and Liher beside the pool

Jerome and Liher beside the pool

Everyone in front of the pool

Everyone in front of the pool

Matthew, Jerome and Liher

Matthew, Jerome and Liher

Aude puts the final touches on the starter...

Aude puts the final touches on the starter…

Foie gras and cepes -- a great way to start Easter lunch

Foie gras and cepes — a great way to start Easter lunch

Proof, if any were needed, that putting myself in an embarrassing position in the name of photography cleary runs in my genes.

Easter bunny

My parents wish all of my blog readers a very happy Easter.
Jerome and his girlfriend

Jerome and his girlfriend

Easter bunnies!

Who said Easter is for kids? Someone’s obviously very pleased about her Easter bunnies!

Dessert!

There are some things that the French do really well. Dessert is one of them.

Easter eggs

When Matthew was promised he could pose next to a bunny, he had the ‘Playboy’ variety in mind…

Family holidays and boredom are uneasy bedfellows. Which is why practical jokes were invented. Against the pleading of his girlfriend, and with the full encouragement of his mother and sister, the sleeping Jerome proved too tempting a target to resist. Sleeping Jerome + iced water = ???

The attack!

The moment of the attack!

The aftermath!

The aftermath!

Oh how we laughed. It’s worth every moment of the (almost certain) repercussions of the best man’s speech.

Easter morning and I couldn’t sleep, probably a result of overindulgence the night before and the silly round pillows that the French seem to insist on. So I headed out to explore the town before sunrise.

My favourite discovery was a road named ‘Grand Rue’ – an alleyway winding through the town that was no more than 1.5m wide.

We went to Easter Mass at the Abbaye de la Celle, just beside the hotel and where we be getting married in September. We learned a few things about the abbey – most importantly, bring a sweater! It’s very cold inside.

We also met with priest who will be marrying us. He’s quite young and seems very friendly – he spent seven years in Mexico and a year in the US, and he’s quite excited to do some of the service in English. I must admit, I was a little taken aback when this monk, wearing his grey wool habit, pulled out a Palm Pilot to verify dates. Never let it be said that the Catholic Church is backwards, at least not technologically.

Saturday morning we were up early to visit the town hall in Roquebrune, where we need to submit all of our paperwork for our civil ceremony. Part of the process is an interview with the mayor (or his delegate) to ensure that the marriage is genuine and to go over all the details for the day.

We were met by the adjunct mayor, a generously proportioned woman with an apparent predilection for sunshine and a disdain for soap. She was our first real brush with the French etat, and represented everything that is bad about the civil service in France. With little genuine power but a keen desire to demonstrate her importance, she decided to throw impediment after impediment in our way. “I’m not sure it’s possible” was her favourite response, and her interpretation of the laws governing marriage changed with the wind.

It was not the most positive meeting I’ve ever had. She seemed unimpressed when I asked whether it would be easier to elope to Las Vegas. I suspect Guantanamo detainees are treated with more respect than she afforded us.

The trauma of the town hall behind us, we headed to a much more agreeable lunch by the port in Frejus – moules frites washed down with a couple of beers. After a brief stop to look at some decorations for the wedding, we were off to Brignoles for a quick chat with the woman coordinating the details at the chateau and a champagne tasting – and then on to ‘test drive’ the hotel and restaurant at the Abbaye de la Celle.

The hotel was absolutely beautiful, with genuinely warm service and a lovely room with our own private garden. We were greeted with two glasses of wine from the vineyard in the back. After we’d settled in, we went into the Alain Ducasse restaurant and had a lovely dinner of asparagus with kumquat sauce, grilled fish with roast potatoes, caramelised pork with stir-fried vegetables, cheese, and a chocolate fondant. The food lived up to the hype – it was a lovely evening. Stuffed to the seams, we trundled off to bed.