The Last day

Friday was a busy to be so I woke just after 4:30 to get myself organised for the day. I had laid out my Santa suit the night before so that I'd be sure that there were no signs of Santa suit meltdown. When you only wear an outfit once or twice a year one should expect the occasional wardrobe malfunction. I was a little wary of the beard as when I had dragged the Santa suit bag from the cupboard I was covered in the whitest of fluff, presumably from a beard that was in the process of unravelling. (No doubt from the stress of Christmas past.) Next dilemma; should I wear the suit to work to avoid the issue of trying to change in the staff toilet without the benefit of a full length mirror? No. I was to be brave. I had decided to risk driving the 7 kilometres to work in the wild hope that I'd not encounter a policeman doing random breath tests or the like. As it is Summer the humidity is higher than comfortable for people donning the odd Santa suit; regardless I pressed on or more correctly I 'dressed on.' Gifts in the boot of my car and it was only a bit before 7:00am. Seems crazy to sit around at home all dressed up and no place to go so I went to work. Friday was the staff's annual Christmas breakfast that was to be cooked by none other than our wonder chef, Greg. Safely parked, not long after 7:00, I wondered why the carpark was almost empty. Cleaning staff noticed my arrival and came to greet me. perhaps they just wanted to tell santa what they wanted for Christmas. No matter, I was a Santa on a mission with gifts to place on desks before too many arrived. Next, off to the library. Breakfast for forty. Air conditioned space so aptly chosen. Chef Greg arrived so I did my best not to hinder his organisation too much. Others had arrived and also made their way to the library. You could see the eager look in their eyes. Not just the breakfast offerings but this was our last work day before the vacation. Massive year and well deserved break for everyone.

Doors and Halls

Soon it will be Christmas and behind these hall doors there will be family soundly sleeping. On Christmas morning I usually wake around 4:ooam and hope that everyone will join me at the Christmas Tree. In years gone by I often sadly sat and waited alone so I felt the need to gently rouse my family members from their slumber. When they were younger the saucepan and the odd wooden spoon assisted to gently nudge them to a wakeful state. Now days they threaten death and worse if I dare to even consider waking them. It is not the same. I am ready, Santa suit in its bag waiting for its annual airing. I don't need as much pillow as I once did but that's okay. I believe that I now have a more natural Santa-like expression and demeanour. The Christmas breakfast table will have been set on Christmas Eve in order to be ready for the traditional croissants from the Vietnamese bakery.

It's Finally Up!

Tradition suggests that the Ferguson family puts up their tree on December 1st. This year we'll be a little late but since it's fantastic plastic that shouldn't be an issue. As a child I remember the real trees that we used to buy and decorate each Christmas in the hope that all of the needles didn't fall off until Santa had bestowed numerous gifts under its shedding branches. Later, came the switch to the then ultra modern, aluminium, silver tree which as I recall, was at the very least a fire hazard and more significantly trees of its type became known for their abilities to electrocute the unwise who dressed them with faulty Christmas lights. However, a few years ago a colleague was kind enough to be wanting a good home for her enormous tree. I put up my hand and now we put up her tree. The tree when erected in all its glory actually reaches the ceiling so we tuck in the uppermost green, plastic limb to allow the angel to stand in her rightful place. Over the years we have gathered and kept every Christmas decoration that the children made at school. The time has come to say goodbye to those old faithfuls and bow to the whims of fashion and buy all that glitters or glows. I have in recent years decided to purchase new Christmas decorations each time I travel overseas. Underpinning this notion is that as I dress the Christmas tree each year I will be able to bathe in the nostalgia of when and where each bauble was purchased. Tomorrow is Tree Day. A momentous occasion since the box that houses it is stored in the now cluttered cubby and it must be dragged up thirteen stairs. This of course is no mean feat as it must be followed by box of Christmas decorations which is more challenging as it lives on the top shelf of the garage and is usually centimetres deep with dust and perhaps the occasional spider. No wonder Stephen dislikes Christmas. Every year we discuss where the tree should stand and every year we realise that its size dictates its placement in the lounge room. I'm right into recycling too and I encourage those wishing to place a gift under the tree do so by selecting a box or gift bag from the stash that I maintain just for that purpose. If everyone did the same there wouldn't be so much Christmas paper in the recycling bin. Unfortunately, not everyone shines to my idea of saving the planet one piece of paper at a time and they still choose to wrap some presents. Traditions need to be fostered and possibly over time there will be a greater understanding in my family of the environmental focus of Christmas (despite the plastic nature of our tree.) It's finally up! Thank you Alysia. It looks good.

Auxerre

Auxerre, a place of well preserved, medieval, architecture. When we arrived we made our way down to the village centre for a quick bite of lunch. As soon as we entered the main precinct we were immediately impressed by the beautiful old buildings. It seemed that every other building was a testament to the past. Fascinating statues or sculptures dotted the squares between streets. I noted that a number of statues and indeed buildings reminded me of images from books or movies from my youth. I wondered what it would be like to be a time traveller. Perhaps if I had enough wine with lunch I could imagine myself walking the streets in period dress and making purchases in the shops of the day. We roamed the streets for some hours before the cold weather had our teeth chattering like our shoes on the cobbles. Reluctantly we returned to where we had parked the car where we checked into our hotel; the Hotel de Parc des Marchaux. Later that night we agreed that Auxerre was one of those villages in which we would spend a little more time. We wanted to explore the village further. Following one of the best breakfasts of our road trip we set out to discover more than we could see on foot the day before. Parking some distance from the hotel we found that Auxerre had an abundance of churches dating back hundreds and hundreds of years. What appealed to us was the fact that those now managing the churches had insisted on respectful visitations by tourists. Sadly, some tourists have to be given more direction than others as at times they behave as if they've left their manners in their luggage back in their swank hotel rooms. We were reminded that in Notre Dame in Paris, it was particularly disappointing for us to see that many tourists showed so little respect for those attending mass while they roamed and collected happy snaps; oblivious to the solemn reverence of those engaged in worship. In Auxerre the church rightfully regulated and clearly stated its expectations of those who wished to visit. One medieval church was made more remarkable by the requirement of absolute silence by those who entered. Gentle steps accentuated our calm passageway from the front doors to the pulpit, having first past windows of colour and shadows from steel bars. As we exited this church we became aware of the masonry and the intricate detail of the sculptures adorning its facade. We had come to expect and understand that in France people go home for lunch and businesses of every type close for a period of time. However, I can not fully comprehend and regulate my penal colony mindset against going to work twice each day. Perhaps I need more time in France to adjust my thinking. Today was Monday and we had set out early so as to avoid the town's lunchtime lock down. Foot sore but happy little Vegemites were we as we ventured into shops where no one spoke any English. Truthfully the autumn weather had descended and this was one of those days when it was a welcome relief to pop inside a shop to browse for some respite from the fierce cold.

Chateau Chenonceau

Chateau Chenonceau. I am going to call it a lady's chateau because of the many feminine influences throughout its grounds. Car parking was particularly easy at this chateau - more than adequate. We selected the full tour--castle, garden, maze, wax works and Ipod guided tour. The stroll along the avenue of trees leading to the chateau created a ceiling of green, leafy foliage. To the left of this walk stood a maze of foliage; a brilliant use of hedging plants. Another building further along to our left housed the wax museum, a self service cafe and secreted beyond this the most elegant garden that hosted a fine dining restaurant. A significant tower stood to the immediate right forecourt of the chateau. Some distance to the left was a cottage of impressive proportions and known as the Chancellery. Upon entering the chateau you note the high ceilings, the resplendent wall hangings and the vast collection of antiques. This chateau boasts original decor and furnishings along with fabric of the finest quality to line its walls. The Ipod spoken and video text greatly assisted each of us to interpret the history surrounding the items of furniture and so too the paintings. Despite its age the chateau has withstood the ravages of revolution and two world wars rather well. The bed chambers reflected the individual taste for colour and furnishings of occupants through time. Various owners have successfully and tastefully made additions to the original building in a manner that compliments rather than detracts from the original architecture. The guard's room, the library, the study, the galleries, bed chambers and the kitchen did not disappoint the tourist in me. Perhaps my favourite was the kitchen with its shiny brass cooking utensils adorning the walls or the original meat chopping blocks and knives placed as they might have been when in actual use by the butchers, chefs or cooks of the day. One could not help but notice the floral tributes and arrangements designed to highlight the functionality of every room that we entered. For example, the kitchen staff's dining room table was laden with fresh produce of every size, shape and colour. Floral arrangements were created on site with fleurs from the chateau's garden. I speculate that the fresh produce was similarly sourced. For me the points of interest - size of the gardens and the estate and of course, the authentic ambiance.

Chambord

This was to be the second chateau that we were to visit whilst staying in the Loire Valley. Chambord was exceptional in its size but less splendid in its inclusions. For me the chateau's architecture was its most striking and memorable feature. If one could consider a chateau masculine then Chambord would proudly boast this label. Its staircases must be seen to be fully understood. A double spiral stairway so beautiful in form and bewildering to the eye draws one upwards to tread the still white steps, albeit weathered, from eons of foot fall. A sense of male dominated place of residence overwhelmed the interior spaces. Due to its size one cannot hope to view the chateau in its entirety. The audio explanations provide credible engagement with some rooms and spaces yet the lack of original furnishings require the accidental tourist to visualise and only wonder about the lifestyle of those who dwelt here. The village feel has been recreated and UNESCO's stewardship should see future restorations return some colour to the grand chateau.

Lundi in Chivenghy

Blois to Chivenghy leg of our road trip. You wind your way up and down, through rural vistas to discover Chivenghy. The serenity of the whole area was noted as soon as we stopped at the park by the river. Chivenghy was mostly breaking for lunch when we arrived so many commercial enterprises were closed. However, we felt the village to be so charming we sought accommodation but much to our disappointment vacancies in the town's centre were not to be found. What was pleasing was the fact that despite the hour, tourists could freely access most of the historic sites surrounding the old chateau. Statues in the old square almost invite you to sit and share a cobblestone. The ancient ruins present more than a notion of past splendour, so stoic against the elements. How did the builders achieve such grand designs at such perilous heights? Today birds maintain vigil over the loftiest of spaces that appear, in places, to be at risk of collapse. If you have an eye for the unusual seek out the large lizard that suns itself on the window ledge of a residence in the medieval township. I thought it to be a ceramic adornment at first glance but upon closer scrutiny it did move. Dilemma-Where to sleep? The hour grew later as we had afforded ourselves the luxury of time in examining this quite location. The absence of flocks of tourists allowed close encounters with the various points of interest. No noisy banter within churches or cathedrals here. Sensitive and restful reflections on what life may have been like so long ago. So hard to imagine the daily life and its challenges back when this part of the world was new.