Autouillet
We find ourselves in the sleepy village of Autouillet about an hour from Paris. For this housesit, we are looking after Fanni and Mona, in their grand 18th-century-ish village house. Autouillet, France
We have the privilege of fresh garden produce again (tomatoes and fruits galore) as long as we ensure a watering schedule. It’s not news that Europe is in drought, so we are frugal with the well. No shops in this village so we walk into Thoiry about 20 minutes away with turbo-charged walking shoes. Sadly the only shop open has been the supermarket because everyone’s en vacances in August. However, all opened up towards the end of our stay.
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Paris
Who doesn’t love a walk through Paris? … and this day wasn’t an exception… It was just as delightful but probably more exhausting than previous visits. The train we caught was a fifteen minutes drive from our housesit and only 35 minutes to Montparnasse Station in Paris. We walked from there wandering through streets we’d never been in before, through a Saturday produce market with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop. Not sure how many kilometres we walked but after taking a few hundred pictures of the Tower, tromping through the Trocadero, and then finding the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysees we headed back to Montparnasse going past des Invalides and Napoleon’s Tomb. Our little feet were complaining and we were very pleased to find le train waiting for us.
The Village Thoiry
Our daily walk for rations was to the local village of Thoiry. Not really famous for anything much except it is just unmistakenly french. It has all the individual shops with the butcher the baker and the post office. So we didn’t have to go too far for our basic needs except it was August, closed for everyone’s en vacances. France is also best known for the Tour de France cycle race every year and the population is so kind to the cycling public. My local cycling route took me through a number of villages before arriving back at Autouillet.
The Chateau de Thoiry
The Chateau de Thoiry has been in the La Panouse family since 1559 and was opened to the public in 1965 and then Paul de La Panouse also turned most of the grounds into a safari park. It’s attracted 23 million visitors since it was opened. We are yet to venture inside and marvel at ‘the harmonious proportions’. Time to leave our peaceful village to housesit in Autouillet just west of Paris. In the last couple of days, we eventually got the timing right to tour the inside of the Chateau Thoiry (15th Century), our nearby neighbor. Lots of wild animals in the front garden and yes they did look a little unreal (Papier-mache? or plastique).
Tunnel du Mont-Blanc
Crossing the French-Italian alps is not something we would do every day. We just had to experience the tunnel but doubt if we would do it again, it’s not just the cost (48 euros one way) but also the waiting time, which could run into hours. They limit the traffic through to only a certain number of vehicles per hour. For us the waiting time wasn’t so bad and from line, up to out the other side 11.6 km later took us 1hr. However, the mountain views were spectacular – obviously not in the tunnel. Blue skies on the way over and overcast on the way back.
My Books = Author = Fabian Foley
How to Write a Novel, How to Write a Bestseller, How to Write Romance, How to Write a… I read tons of these how-to-write-books books, and even though I’m pretty good at reading and actioning what I’ve read, the writing a novel instructions simply wouldn’t stick. I’d finished the first 50 pages of my current work in progress and put it away (or throw it away) or mostly hit ‘delete’.
And what do you think I put my inability down to? Yes… of course. My hopelessness as a writer, my lack of motivation, my substandard intelligence. Basically I blamed my personal inadequacies, as most of us tend to do. I think my constant failure was also demoralizing and the thought of putting myself through that again became a huge barrier to actually writing anything in the end.
Except thankfully that didn’t end up being the end. One day someone asked me why I didn’t start from the end and write back to the beginning if I was having so much trouble doing it the ‘usual’ way.
Starting at the end, didn’t end up being the right process for me, but swirling that idea around, did reveal that a major setback to my progress was boredom. I’d get bored with the story. You see, I loved reading. I’d become engrossed, obsessively turning the page because I’d be so caught up in the characters and their lives that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. And when I wrote, according to a plan or an outline, where I’d mapped everything out as I’d been taught, I already knew what was going on and how it was going to happen. No wonder I’d be bored. (And not saying this isn’t a good process… it just hadn’t worked for me).
So I started with the character, in this case Bimba, and let her tell me her story. Almost every day I’d walk with her in my head and ask her what happened next. And finally after years of DNF I finished a novel. Not a very good one mind you. It was a first draft, but I was over the moon and luckily even though I knew the story, I never got bored with the re-writes and editing. Finding the right way, the right word, rearranging and editing was an interesting challenge. I wanted it to be a great reading experience. For me, all of that is fun.
I don’t know if that will stay as my method, but I’m already looking forward to finding someone else to tell me their story.
What happens when the only living soul who knows you are missing is your dog?
If you’ve ever wondered what a dog is thinking and feeling, then Bimba draws you into a charming and believable first-hand experience of her world.
Bimba’s happiness isn’t the only thing that’s in jeopardy when her owner disappears. And when she finds herself in the care of others, her gratitude is overshadowed. Even if she could make them understand, they are all preoccupied with their own sadness and struggles.
But, as seemingly unrelated events and unexpected kindness propel Bimba’s new friends into an orbit with her at its center, the universe gets to work. And as their lives overlap and converge, it’s clear that even when what we get isn’t what we thought we wanted, happiness is still there, waiting for us to catch on or catch up.
A story of loss and grieving and overcoming adversity. Quirky, with humour and emotion. As uplifting as it is captivating.
“As the mother of a gay son I wasn’t only aware of homophobia, I was frightened. I still am. The overt attacks are easily recognised, if not dealt with, but the covert ones – the insidious secretive attacks – aren’t.”
Homophobia – The irrational fear of, aversion to, or discrimination against homosexuality or gay people.
For a long time our leaders, our society, and our culture not only encouraged discrimination and abuse, it rewarded it. In some places, it still does, despite the legislated freedom and equality we hear so much about. Stories like The Outing are thought-provoking and hopeful reminders of where we’ve come from, where we want to go, and why we don’t want to go back. In times where outbreaks of regressive backlash are becoming more common, it is a timely read.
