Footy in the snow

To follow up from yesterday's article about the weather we have been experiencing, it turns out that Marty did have to play his football game in the snow. And usually where there's snow, the temperature is in the negatives.

For this round of the competition, the Limoux Grizzlies travelled north to take on Lescure. They were notified on the way up that it was snowing, but a decision was made to go ahead with the game anyway.

I got a text message from Marty two hours before the game to let me know that it was -1 and snowing. 

It was only just Saturday that we were talking about the incredibly unique experiences that we have had here, so I told him to try to take this experience in, as it may never happen again. 

He was quick to point out that it was an easy thing for me to say from the warmth of our home, and suggested perhaps it is an experience I would like to try...

But at the end of the day, the cold and the snow didn't slow him down. The Grizzlies won their game 62 points to 18, with Marty scoring five of his team's tries.

The snow is still falling today, so we will once again be braving the cold to enjoy this experience.

Four seasons in a week

In the last seven days we have experienced all four seasons in Limoux. We have enjoyed the warmth of the sun, and the bitter cold that comes with more snow!

Last Saturday we woke up to a gorgeous clear sky, sunshine and mid- to high-teen temperatures. For us Aussies who have struggled and snuggled our way through the somewhat mild French Winter, it was a much needed relief from the grey skies and rain of the previous three weeks.

We soaked up as much of the sun's rays as we could, venturing into town to enjoy a cold drink at a cafe in the sun. The town was alive with people out and about, no doubt getting their dose of vitamin D while they could.

Marty soaking up the sun

Roses blooming in our garden

We spent a good couple of hours, just sitting and enjoying what we had been missing for months. It felt like Summer to us. I even managed to get a little bit of colour on my now very pale face.

The sunshine continued during the week, although the temperatures dropped slightly in the days following.  We felt a hint of Spring in the air as beautiful yellow roses bloomed in our garden. I assumed they too had enjoyed the sun, and come out to brighten up our barren garden.

Clear skies make for a nice view at the field

The temperature was bearable, much more so than previous weeks, so I enjoyed getting out for a long stroll around town, and even a run on a couple of days. I run around the playing field, and was captured by the colour of the sky on Thursday; it was so clear.

Friday brought another clear day, albeit a much cooler one. We ventured out again, after all we have to take advantage of these sunny days while they last. We headed up to the top of a mountain near town, that plays host to wind turbines.

The journey was interesting, and the view amazing. But the wind was unbearable for us. We struggled to keep our eyes open long enough to see the snow-capped mountains in the distance; a view that proved worthy of the sting in our eyes.

Wind turbines lining the mountain

Our best photo in the wind!

Saturday rolled around again, but was quite different. I woke and pulled back the blackout curtains to  see white falling from the sky! Around a month ago I wrote about the experience of our first snow; how it was beautiful, but brief, and we were hoping for more. Well, we got it!

I layered up and ventured out in to the bitter cold (-3) to experience the magic of the snow falling from above. Our garden was pretty, but the streets of the town were prettier. There was white as far as I could see, in every direction.  

The streets of Limoux in the snow

A magical scene!

Despite the cold, we decided to go out for a drive, which was a very strange experience in itself; I could see the snow coming at us, but it wasn't sticking to the windscreen, or making it wet.

We woke today to find that it had continued to lightly snow overnight, with more of the ground covered in the white stuff. The temperature is still in the negatives, a fact I gently advised Marty of as he packed his bag and put on his layers in preparation for his football game today.

While I am loving watching the snow from the warm comfort of our home, I do hope that it's not snowing in the part of France that Marty is playing in today.

Mardi Gras in Limoux

Carnaval kicked off in style in Limoux in January, with the otherwise quiet little town coming alive with celebration. As I told you about in an early blog, Limoux is renowned for their Carnaval, held every Saturday and Sunday from early January through until mid-March, making it the longest carnival in the world.

The Carnaval has been celebrated in Limoux since 1604, and, according to my internet research, is based on a tradition that dates back to the fourteenth century, when the payment of taxes to the Prouille Monastery, near Limoux, was celebrated with dancing in the streets. The millers cracked whips and threw flour and sweets into the air as they celebrated.

Limoux's Carnaval has evolved, with the whips being replaced by a ribboned reed called a carabena, and the flour exchanged for confetti as the masked dancers, known as the goudils lead the procession through the town square. Arms wave in the air as the slow dance, which is more like a shuffle, moves to the beat set by the big brass band following closely behind.

There are about 20 groups that participate in Carnaval, with each group sponsored by or associated with a local business, usually a bar, or a social group or organisation. The groups dress from head to toe in their own theme or clown-style complete with face-covering mask, which I'm told is to signify the equality among the members of the group.

Each group is scheduled a day throughout Carnaval to hold their celebration, which occur three times each day: 11am, 5pm and 10pm. The group dance around the Place de la République, progressing from one cafe or bar to the next, where the group retires inside for a drink before returning to dance to the next stop.

According to a local, the procession, which is more a dance than a parade, is now also an opportunity to celebrate wine produced in the area, particularly that of Blanquette, with the various groups promoting sponsored brands.

The event is quite a sight; such a colourful display that attracts tourists and locals alike. The square seems to be a buzz with activity on the weekends, with a festival-like atmosphere enhanced by food stalls, a merry-go-round, and a pop up shop where people can buy their own carnaval costume and mask.

Carnaval was also held today, Shrove Tuesday, as it is a traditional day for celebration around the world, also known as Mardi Gras (which actually translates in French to 'fat Tuesday', and is named for the feast that takes place on this day prior to Lent).

I wandered into town today for a closer look at the evening session of Carnaval, and was not disappointed. The crowds had lined the archways of the square as the band prepared for the procession to commence. I found a spot to stand along a shop front in time to see the colours of the costumes slowly approaching.

The music from the band was catchy and upbeat, while holding a steady pace. Two children who were dressed to match the group were leading the charge, often told to stop and wait as they got carried away with the speed of their dance moves.

People were lined up three or four deep to catch a glimpse, and cameras were at the ready to capture the colour and movement. It took the group about ten minutes to dance the 15 metres from the start to where I was standing, but there wasn't a dull moment.

Confetti was being thrown high and in all directions, covering those watching like snow. I managed to capture a video of the procession before I was approached by someone who obviously recognised me, however I couldn't tell who it was for the mask.

They didn't hesitate to reach into the sack around their neck, pull out a handful of confetti and throw it directly over me. They came in closer and said in heavily French-accented English: 'Hello! I could see you waiting here. Carnival, it's fun no?'. I laughed with surprise, as they took another handful of confetti and rubbed it into my hair.

The first leg of the procession took 25 minutes. At that point the group entered the first bar and ordered their drinks, as the crowd outside started to disperse. No doubt they would return for another chance to watch and move along with the group as they dance to the next bar.

I looked around at the confetti littered all over the ground, which was being whipped up and thrown around by the wind. Everyone in sight had confetti on them somewhere, and as I walked home I caught a glimpse of my hair in a shop window. To my horror, I had a ream of paper's worth of confetti in my hair!

I shook my hair out and had to take off and shake out my jacket and scarf before going inside our house. However that wasn't enough; confetti is still falling out of my clothing by the second, and now our floor is also littered with the small white bits of celebratory paper.

A great festive event that seems to bring the town together, Carnaval continues until March 17, when a big celebration, called the 'Night of the Blanquette' takes place in the square. Here, the other icon of Limoux, Blanquette, flows freely as Carnaval comes to an end for another year.

Every day life in the South

There is something very charming about our quiet life in Limoux. After seeing the bright lights of the big cities of London and Paris, we have come to enjoy the simplicity of our life here as we go about our somewhat normal routine.

The picturesque streets of Limoux

The fact that we are actually living in France is not lost on us as we go day to day; we are reminded every day as we walk out our door into temperatures just above freezing, and when we struggle with conversation with anyone that we come in contact with, or when we walk through the narrow cobblestone roads on our way into the town square.

As with life anywhere, we do have a routine here, it's just that everything we do has a little French flavour added to it.

As expected, our daily and weekly activities revolve around the football schedule: gym sessions, training sessions, meetings, games, celebrations/commiserations. But an average week for us goes a little bit like this...

Mondays are our lazy day, usually spent sleeping off the day/night before. The only football requirement on this day for Marty is a rehabilitation session in the hot pools in the afternoon.

I use this day to clean the house, put on the laundry, and do the grocery shopping; all quiet normal and boring tasks. The French adventure in them comes from the house being a quaint little cottage, the laundry being an outdoor room that floods after each load, and the groceries, well...

A trip through a grocery store here is an adventure in itself. We usually go to E.Leclerc (pronounced 'le-claire'), a large French supermarket and department store chain. This shop is like Woolworths and Big W rolled into one, with every food, household and electronic item you could possibly want, and then some. The deli is vast, the butchery has items I have never even imagined exist (and have so far managed to avoid), the bakery is amazing, and there is, of course, an in-house fromagery.

I manage to buy what I need by looking at the pictures on the packaging. The international section has become a favourite, however it is lacking Vegemite and Milo. It took us a couple of visits to come to terms with the alcohol section as well; a wine cellar with bottles from as low as 4Euro, and every type of alcohol you could imagine...all just part of the weekly shop.

Marty geared up for training in the cold

Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays are quite similar. We have the mornings free to do as we please, which sometimes involves a short drive somewhere new, a wander into the town square, or a trip to the shop to top up on groceries. Footy-wise, Marty has a gym session with the other 'foreign' players in the afternoons, and then a nightly training session with the team.

After three months of eating French pastries, I have been going along to the afternoon sessions to run along the running track around the field, but Marty is on his own for the night sessions. Usually about an hour and a half in duration, the team trains in any temperature, rain, hail or clear skies...quite literally; this week he was hailed on during a session, and often brings the mud home with him.

We have Wednesday mornings free as well, then the afternoons require Marty to attend training session with young children. As there is no school in France on Wednesdays, a number of the town's children attend these coaching sessions, again with the foreign players, however for Marty it is more like childcare, as he can't communicate with them, and they are too young to understand the concept of sharing the ball with a teammate. It seems to be an interesting experience for him though, and he often comes home with new words in his French vocabulary, courtesy of the kids.

Thursday nights once a fortnight the team gets together for dinner following the training session, and I often tag along. They rotate around the restaurants in town to share around their custom, and we pay 15Euro for a three-course meal and wine. It is a great opportunity to socialise with the other players and get a good taste of French cuisine.

Friday mornings I often go into the town square to the weekly farmers markets. No matter what the weather, they are a bustling little event where you can buy any kind of fresh produce, meat, cheese, bakery items and olives...lots of olives. I load up on farm-fresh eggs here, as they taste much better than the grocery store eggs.

Saturdays are our only completely free day of the week, but by this day we are usually happy to stay in and relax. We do sometimes plan a day trip to a nearby town or castle, or venture into town for a coffee at a local cafe. Sometimes we use this day to meet up with Aussie friends living in other towns, which is a great opportunity to explore somewhere new.

Sundays are usually game days, which means an early start. If the game is in Limoux, the morning is quite relaxed before we head to the field, and if the game is in another town, then Marty has an early bus to catch to get there. The team always has lunch together no matter where they are; shared meals are a big part of French culture, and it provides an opportunity to bond as a team before the game.

Our house in winter

The town usually turns out for the game, with the grandstand divided into two sections: Grizzlies supporters, and fans of the visiting team. The Grizzlies fans don't lack heart, with 'allez Limoux' being screamed from the stand throughout the game. And win or lose, the party moves into the town square where celebrations or commiserations continue into the night (hence the Monday morning sleep-ins).

Throughout our daily routines we have gladly embraced some of the quirky French customs, while holding on to some of our own habits. For example, we stroll to the local boulangery every morning to buy our fresh bread, as the French do, however we eat it with a big breakfast, as the Aussies do.

We have lived this lifestyle for coming on four months now, and are looking forward to making the most of the time we have left. The only change we'd really like to see is on the thermometer!