Walking the Highline

Last night the weather had broken slightly and it was raining as I came out of a restaurant with my senior colleague. 

I shunned the suggestion of a taxi and strolled (as probably only the English would) in warm, humid rain.  I was wearing polyester so I was drip dry! It was a relief from the beating rays of the sun which have accompanied me during this untimely heatwave.

In the morning I walked the HighLine, an old elevated railway line which has been converted into a walking path and urban park. It was a tranquil oasis above the noise of the city, plants and trees lined the path and I sat with my feet in a shallow waterfeature having resisted the temptation to paddle for a while.

New building overlooking the Highline
Old building…
Skyline from the Highline


Walking path
Welcome shade

After the Highline I spent several hours shopping in the West Village in 94 degrees Fahrenheit. That roughly translates to incredibly hot in Celsius especially with 50% humidity. 

My feet were beyond sore and I must have drunk most of Fiji’s water by the time I boarded my Yellow Cab (ever frugal) to head to JFK.

It was another successful trip to New York completed.

Not So Happy Hour!

Blisteringly hot, the smell of hot rubbish and blasts of extreme heat from cars waiting at traffic lights. It’s New York in the summer and it’s going to get hotter as the week goes on. 

Day One meetings went well and I joined the team drinks thinking I’d stay for one…

Five hours, two tequila shots, three margueritas and at least two endless glasses of wine (I think!) later and I made it back to my hotel not entirely sure what had happened. I never drink tequila!

I had an important 9am meeting at the Empire State Building and I was wrecked! A splitting headache was my worst symptom (luckily) as I went out for an emergency egg breakfast. 

My recovery meal of boiled eggs was seriously scuppered when I was served two undercooked completely liquid eggs (salmonella in a shell) and told that was the way they were always served. Seriously? 
I poured my egg of death on to the plate in protest and I wasn’t charged for the inconvenience but it certainly hadn’t helped my symptoms. 

Four meetings later and I’d survived… just! It hadn’t been terrible but it certainly hadn’t been top form and I may have eaten a plate of fries along the way…

It was going to be an extremely early night for this poor fragile thing, the only consolation was how amazing I hoped I would feel in the morning. But first, a curry just to ensure complete recovery!

At least I don’t have any bathroom scales…
Update: I was asleep by 8pm and made a full and fantastic recovery so all ended well however the battle for a boiled egg continues…

New York again…

Another trip to New York and I certainly have my routines…
In the summer it’s breakfast in Bryant Park trying to find a good coffee and croissant. Always a challenge. Today it was a Pret Croissant and a coffee from Kayser, a so called French boulangerie with awful pastries…

Followed my usual routine of tears at altitude by watching a lovely British tear jerker called “Their Finest” which had the tears rolling and the throat hurting! I’m such a sucker but there you go, happens every time I fly!

With the routines well adhered to, it was time to get to work…

International Commuter

After two weeks of hard graft (and quite a lot of swimming), it was time to head to London for a night and then on to New York for one of my usual trips.

There was minimal packing involved as I’ve left my summer wardrobe in France and took a light jacket, a cardigan and a dress to wash. Not bad for travelling light!

The journey to the airport was quicker than it used to be, half an hour and I was walking through security. The downside was, I was very early and had to wait for the inevitably delayed EasyJet flight. A lesson learned for my next visit.

It was hard to say goodbye to our lovely house having worked so hard but jobs are necessary to make all this possible and it was nice to check on our London flat. 
Big T has plenty to do painting the shutters and checking the pH level of the pool and the Little Dog will be happily catching every drop of water she can.

I’ll be back in the pool in two weeks’ time but for the time being, it’s off to work for me!

The First Brocante

We just happened to be up the road from my favourite shop, the Troc en Stock in Antibes. It seemed a shame not to have a quick look…

At first we were worried, it wasn’t there. Could it have closed in the past year and a half? Had they closed because I’d had no reason to go brocanting? Quelle horreur!

We realized we’d taken a wrong turn and relief, there it was, a stiflingly hot warehouse packed full of treasures.

The prices seemed a little higher but before long I saw a very nice table for €70 (resisted as not essential) and a single bedside table (needed) for a snip at €20. I’m trying not to over-furnish unnecessarily…

A single bedside table perfect for a small room with two single beds where it would fit in the middle and hold a lamp. Sold!

I just had time to sand it, undercoat and paint it cream before leaving (photo to come). It may need a second coat when I’m back but the ice is broken and bargain furnishing begins!
Hurray, brocanting!

The First Flea

Living in California, fleas were a normal part of life. The warm climate suited them perfectly and dogs needed to be protected from fleas and ticks all year round.

Living in London I had forgotten about those nasty, biting, blood-sucking parasites until I spotted Agnes having a scratch and realized that the south of France has a very similar climate to California. Sure enough, Agnes had her first flea… and where there’s one…

We nipped off to the pet store quick smart and bought a swanky flea collar and then, as temperatures were rising, we decided to get Agnes clipped. It was time for a doggy makeover even if it meant sacrificing the luscious black coat of the Welsh Terrier.

We booked her in to a nice groomer in Valbonne, Big T showed them a photo of how a Welsh Terrier should look and off she went.

An hour later, we got back a very different dog, a stripped down version of our Little Welsh Terrier. She looked much cooler in the hot weather and seemed quite pleased with her jaunty makeover. At first glance she looked fantastic but as we looked again, she looked a lot like a Mini Schnauzer…
Agnes after her makeover

A new breed apparently has been discovered, The Welsh Schnauzer or as Big T quipped, a “Wauzer!”

We’re still adjusting to our new dog!


After waiting impatiently, we finally have WiFi! Photos can finally be posted, hurray!!

It’s come just in time for my departure to London tomorrow unfortunately but hey ho, at least Big T can work and we’re up and running and back in the world of technology…

What did we do before WiFi?