Bordeaux Blog: Chapter 4

Bordeaux Blog: Chapter 4 Fountain at Place Quinconces by Sam Watson

This article was written by Ines Sordo, published on 21st December 2010 and has been read 3143 times.

It’s not Christmas it’s “Noel”, finding that ‘the one’ already has another one and giggling during a movie is not appreciated in France either… Just when one would think that writing this blog would have become a matter of rather amusing and cathartic habit I almost managed to forget about it this month- and where would that have left us, eh? (Please don’t answer). But never fear, I am indeed still very much here. And as the bdx monsoon season has let up to allow the bdx cold-enough-to-freeze-a-medium-sized-poodle season this city has managed to become my home.

Just as promised I’d like to start this edition of “what has the Spaniard been up to this month?” by telling you how lovely bdx looks in Christmas lights. For a city that already has a lot of light as it is (photographers take note), bdx manages to shine even brighter by night this December. Slightly unfortunately for me though every street has gorgeous lighting, we’re talking classy yellow hues and detailing here, except for mine. My street got stuck with what seems like the remnants of last years Christmas decoration used at my grandmother’s village. And while I mean no offence to grandmothers or villages I’d just like to use this as a public letter to M. Juppé to ask him to please not make me look at those tacky light bulb stars again. All is well though, for being the fan of walking that I am I have already ran around the entirety of the city several times just to see the pretty displays. One thing has caught my attention though; here in France the disco ball seems to be a staple of Christmas. Just about 90% of the shop window displays are sporting one proudly nestled in a bed of festive baubles. And I say, why not? Aren’t we all into recycling now? Re-use the disco ball! But I warn you now; if the ‘Tony Manero’ ANYTHING comes back into fashion I’m out.

Might as well take this as an opportunity to publicise the annual Christmas market that takes place right by my house too: a lovely gathering of wooden huts selling all sorts of toys and trinkets with a few bar-huts splashed around offering mulled wine and the such. There’s even an Australian bar because, lets face it, nothing says Merry Christmas like a kangaroo.


By now I’m sure that the length of that last segment has tipped you off as to how much of a Christmas-aholic I am, so if anyone isn’t as festive minded as myself I do apologise and shall resume attempted seriousness now.

So, tell me, did you move to France for your year abroad thinking you were going to be swept off your feet by a suave French man? (Boys, insert appropriate female equivalent here). Well, I didn’t, but then again I’m at least a quarter cynical at any given time. If this where a longer more agony-aunt style blog I’m pretty sure that the stories I have heard since living here would most definitely grace the pages of ‘OK!’. There’s a little bit of everything of course, from your suave one-night-only boys to your sudden unexpected romantics passing by of course, the national average, the cheaters. It seems to me that this “lets not think about her” approach to relationships has been elevated to an art form in the country of the horizontal stripes, in fact I have even heard stories of boys making up lists of “points” you get for bagging a certain type of girl (without going into details: what you’re thinking is probably right) where this amount gets doubled if you already have a girlfriend. Lads on cheese and steroids if you will. So ladies, please be careful, and if a boy seems nice and flirty, maybe check his facebook relationship status first. Just for the sake of fairness and so that my friends don’t kill me I do feel obliged to point out that there are also some nice boys in France who don’t cheat etc… but you always remember the bad stories, don’t you? And sorry about the lack of advice boys, I shall enquire about the matter and hopefully come up with something next month.

The generally anti-social cold temperatures we are experiencing these days have made us turn to more indoorsy activities and so yours truly was forced to go watch “Harry Potter 7: whatever he’s up to this time” in French by those whom she would call her friends. Going to the cinema in French is already an interesting activity, but imagine if you will all the funny magic words being regurgitated in a French accent. Oh yes, I have never laughed harder in my lifetime nor had a harder time following a films plot. As the film fan I am I shall of course attempt this again- but with a different (dare I say actually good?*) film. For those of you in bdx wishing to watch good films in their original language I suggest you visit l’utopia, a cinema located in a converted church offering all sorts of great flicks, form the indie to the mainstream, and all of them bearing subtitles… or “heaven”, as I like to call it.

Since it’s Christmas and we should all be happy I end on good news: I flew back to London for a weekend this month and it turns out that sleazyjet easyjet have wonderfully cheap return tickets to the old country, so no need to worry about how your family and friends will come abuse the free accommodation you provide! Have a very merry Christmas and a fantastic new year person reading this, I return to my own old country for the holidays so next month I’ll probably tell you all about forgetting your French due to high sugar and alcohol consumption.

Joyeux Noel! Feliz Navidad!

* Sorry HP fans but those were 2 and a half hours of people walking, poorly stitched together with awkward and artificial moments of levity.

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