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Ollie creates a monster!

Just some odd recent photos.

The boys and their fast bikes almost on the airstrip at Fayence.

The people next door took us to see some gliders. Their dad used to glide, so they'd spent a fair bit of time there when young. There were lots of normal gliders, a stunt one doing tricks, and a little helicopter thing. The boys had a great time watching, and on their bikes.

Never leave your kids alone with their mum.

Ollie wore his hat to school (photo top right). It's got real plastic crocodile's teeth. His teachers were all impressed.

Marie's fantastic playdough spaceship. Where'd she get the idea?

Marie found the real playdough, so we got 6 tubs in different colours. It was a hit, again.

School hols in Cassis

Ye Olde Fishing Porte de Cassis

For the school holidays, Marie, the boys, her buddy Simone, and her 2 kids went to Cassis. Simone's husband, Peter, and me were going to meet them for the weekend there. I assumed we'd take the train, since it's 200km, but luckily, my compatriot friend is crazy, so he suggested we ride it.

 Finding a way was my job. The choices are direct over the mountains, the scenic route further in the Alps with more mountains, or the long way wiggling along the coast. I was worried about any bad climbs or the famous winds, eating enough, drinking enough (I didn't), or mechanical trouble in the middle of nowhere.

 We went the direct way and it all went fine. We only got lost a couple of times. The scenery was great. All the villages were the same but different. When we arrived, the kids wanted to play chasings in the garden. I walked menacingly.

Cliffs overlooking the village

The village is an old little fishing port, which is now touristy as anything. Most of tourists are locals though. We went on an hour long boat trip to see the tall white cliffs nearby, and the Calanques (creeks I think).

 Me and Marie got to go to dinner solo, and the other 2 did too.

The chicken bus to Marseilles was spectacular.

It rained all day in Marseilles until the arvo. We got Ollie some gumboots so he could splash in the puddles with the rest of them.

Paparazzi snaps the next Top Models just
outside the gate of a very glamorous spot

Easter. It wasn't that long ago was it?

Egg hunt no.1 with the kids next door.

We didn't go anywhere for Easter. But we did have three egg hunts, yeah. Marie was smart though, and minding the kids eggs after they'd gathered them, then recycled the same ones for the next hunt. They still ate barely enough...

Egg hunt no.2 with Fred.

If you want to get the eggs, better run!

For some reason, Fred's common area in the pictures, is OK. It's a really large area, big enough to kick a ball, with lines of olive trees. We had fun playing hide and seek after the egg hunt.

Louis and Rafael getting excited.

Egg hunt #3 was with our new English speaking friends from England, Gayle and Matt, who have 2 boys Carter and Fletcher. We're in danger of having English speaking friends only. 

One happy camper.

Menton and Gourdon

The boys at Villeneuve Loubet on the
forest trail.

The church at Menton. Another village perched
up on a hill, with a nice view over the sea.

View up to the church at Menton.

Romain is from the building next door. We try to yell out to them, but with the background noise, it usually ends up being a phone call instead. We're off for a picnic again tomorrow.
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Menton is the last stop before the border. Italy rail was on strike, so that's as far as we got that Sunday. The boys enjoyed some puzzles on the way back, plus food, which made it a lot better than the trip there.

Gourdon, Provence, at 960m high.

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To visit Gourdon, there's a bit of a drive uphill. The views are the best in the area; all the way to the sea, and over the surrounding areas. It is tightly packed on a hill, like all the other villages. Not as nice as Gordon NSW of course.

Getting a drivers license in France

We finally applied to swap over our drivers licenses.
To get a French license, all you need is to provide a separate ID with a photocopy, your long term visa with a photocopy, 4 photos but they only need 2, a currenty valid license, a stamped official translation of it, and a stamped self addressed envelope. Then you go to the sub prefecture in Grasse, 33km away. Parking is about a k away if lucky, or closer if you pay. There's a queue out the door to get a ticket to be served, and finally you get to wait.
Eventually getting to the counter, the lady looked over my translation for a while, but eventually there must have been a clanger in there, and she asks who translated it? I admitted a friend at work. Things really stop when she says you need your electricity bill. It wasn't on their list, but still, I can't believe I left home without that. Feeling like an idiot, I drive the 50kms to work, knowing we'll have to try again another time. Second time around, and a 100 euro trip to the translater, with Marie making a few panicked trips to the photocopier, while we're served, we got 2 hand written notes in exchange for our licenses.
A week late, we've received a note in the post saying that we need a statement from the RTA which gives the issue date of the license. You can just walk into a branch of the RTA, show you ID and pay for the statement. Or you can get it sent to your home address in 7 days in the post, then get your mum to post it over. It's normal.