| 2014 | 08 | 01 | nice day 1 |

This year

Sunday, we woke up to the pitter patter of rain falling from the sky. 

Thank god the forecast in France was sun sun sun. 

Despite being the normally annoying, immature and loud sibling, I have thing that shuts me up. Sleep. I don't know if there's a better name for it, or even a name at all, but any car, train, bus or plane journey sends me to the land of nod, so when with friends I really have to fight it to stay awake. Luckily for me it substantially speeds up long commutes, and luckily for everyone else  I've finally stopped whittering.

I was once chastised by my Grampa, a man determined to model me into an elegant young woman, that I laughed too loudly, easily and genuinely. He told me I would need to become less impulsive and more in control. I disgreed, running off upstairs and giggling as I tripped and added one more bruise to a never ending collection. Eight year olds aren't receptive. Nowadays, I do try, but still get into ridiculous bouts of stomach wrenching laughter.

Today, through a stroke of luck , we were once against flying business class. The details are irrelevant, only that during flight food is served on a tray, crockery included. Painstakingly slow service led me to order a chicken curry instead of the thai beef curry. The half vegetarian that I am meant I ate most of the meal before requesting a swap. I sat feeling a little guilty as he had to go and heat a completely different meal before serving everyone hot drinks.

Moments later we hit turbulance. The only bit for the entire flight and it was incredibly bouncy. Full mugs of drink went everywhere, as did food and cutlery. It was kind of funny. Five minutes later and we'd have been fine, but perhaps due to me delaying drinks service (by changing my order), no one had had the chance to consume their hot beverages.
Looking across at my dad and sister we began to laugh, pathetically wiping ourselves down and  sampling meals which had turned into a strange milky soup.
A woman two rows in front was less able to see the funny side. She demanded our delightful 'host' salvage her food and clothes. My dad's incredulous look pushed me over the edge as he mimed handing her his napkin and spoon, before taking a swig of tea from his salad. The combination of her face, his continuing fun making and my own mess started a bout of laughter not meant for the confined space of the cabin.

I just couldn't stop.

I couldn't breathe, I was crying and everytime I almost regained control I spilt more of my coffee salad-wards.

I'm an embarassment. But at least the child crying three rows back eventually drowned out my own howls.

We finally got here
Delays, waiting and strange routes meant we only arrived at 8pm France time, but in the end, it's all good. The familiarity of this region means we now know what to expect, and exactly what to pack. I'm so glad I remembered a woolly hat and gloves.

I've eventually decided that no, I would not like a cow that produces green top milk, but instead would invest in a full fat one just in case I wanted cream. 

You never know when you'll need to mix up some butter in a hurry. 

We're so much more chilled out this year than last. Dad forgot the board games, but he's let it drop in a hurry and is happily pottering around (that's a lie, but he's washing carrier bags. we don't know why or really when he'll stop, but he seems happy).

a headache inducingly-unfocused photograph.
I got the top bedroom - complete with a double bed and ensuite, oh, and incredible views. 

Only downside is all the stairs. 

I love this region of France. It's so peaceful and quiet. Perfect.

We unpacked and sat outside picking at baguettes, ham and cheese. I wasn't in the mood to cook and the three of us were actually quite tired.

Those trees look weird.