In Luzern locals and tourists alike are invited to masquerade themselves—the more whimsical, creative, and colorful the better.
Showing posts with label fete. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fete. Show all posts
Friday, March 11, 2011
Luzerner Fasnacht Photos
During Carnival season, many Swiss-German towns and cities organize Fasnacht festivities. The Luzerner Fasnacht—known for its informal and inclusive style—stands out from other Fasnachts held in Basel, Bern, and Zurich, among other cities.
In Luzern locals and tourists alike are invited to masquerade themselves—the more whimsical, creative, and colorful the better.
In Luzern locals and tourists alike are invited to masquerade themselves—the more whimsical, creative, and colorful the better.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
It's a small world after all
Today was a brilliant, warm, sunny kind of day on my mountainside. I'm not sure about you, but it is so nice to see the sun again after a few days of cloudiness. But as soon as we drove past Fort l'Ecluse, the couverture over the Geneva valley was apparent. Undeterred, we drove to the Vin et Gastronomie fête in Armancy (still in France but on the other side of Lake Geneva). We were invited by a vitner from Morgogne who makes delicious wine that R likes.
We arrived hungry so we quickly found the oyster, or huître, vendor and had 12 yummy oysters on the half shell. Some people hate the texture, but R and I slurped the dozen down, enjoying the fresh briny taste. Some people like sweets, I *love* savory and salty, or better yet a mix between sweet and salty like caramel sel beurre ice cream.
Tasting the oysters today brought me back to a beautiful end-of-summer day R and I had in Wellfleet, MA. I wanted to show R the Cape, so we stopped in Wellfleet before heading to the beauty and carnival that is Provincetown. In Wellfleet, we were strolling over a small bridge over low tide of a bay (I think). A dad and his two sons were digging for oysters under our footsteps. Curious, we said "hello" and were soon after invited down to try an authentic Wellfleet oyster. It was probably one of the freshest, most delicious things I've ever eaten. The scene couldn't have been simpler - it was just a man with his knife and the oysters. No lemon, vinegar or Tabasco needed.
Anyway, after today's oysters, we took a quick survey of the vendors and their goods...there were about 30 or so tables where vitners were offering degustations or tastings of their wine. Other vendors were selling local jam, honey, pâte de fruits, sausages, cheeses. Then we decided to have lunch. The meal was pretty good and super filling. Banish the thought of minuscule French portions! In the countryside, it's only hearty fare with generous portions served by friendly people.
Even at a simple fête, it was a multi-course meal with:
Looking forward to our trip to the NL, Luxembourg, and Belgium this week! Second year in a row we'll be spending Thanksgiving and the day we met in lovely Holland. Hoping the weather is more dry this year than last!
We arrived hungry so we quickly found the oyster, or huître, vendor and had 12 yummy oysters on the half shell. Some people hate the texture, but R and I slurped the dozen down, enjoying the fresh briny taste. Some people like sweets, I *love* savory and salty, or better yet a mix between sweet and salty like caramel sel beurre ice cream.
Tasting the oysters today brought me back to a beautiful end-of-summer day R and I had in Wellfleet, MA. I wanted to show R the Cape, so we stopped in Wellfleet before heading to the beauty and carnival that is Provincetown. In Wellfleet, we were strolling over a small bridge over low tide of a bay (I think). A dad and his two sons were digging for oysters under our footsteps. Curious, we said "hello" and were soon after invited down to try an authentic Wellfleet oyster. It was probably one of the freshest, most delicious things I've ever eaten. The scene couldn't have been simpler - it was just a man with his knife and the oysters. No lemon, vinegar or Tabasco needed.
Anyway, after today's oysters, we took a quick survey of the vendors and their goods...there were about 30 or so tables where vitners were offering degustations or tastings of their wine. Other vendors were selling local jam, honey, pâte de fruits, sausages, cheeses. Then we decided to have lunch. The meal was pretty good and super filling. Banish the thought of minuscule French portions! In the countryside, it's only hearty fare with generous portions served by friendly people.
Even at a simple fête, it was a multi-course meal with:
- an entrée (also known as appetizer in the U.S.)
- plat principal (which is confusingly called an entrée in the U.S.)
- a cheese plate
- dessert
- coffee which is served with small little chocolates.
Looking forward to our trip to the NL, Luxembourg, and Belgium this week! Second year in a row we'll be spending Thanksgiving and the day we met in lovely Holland. Hoping the weather is more dry this year than last!
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Speleo and other pics
Beets and a lonely Charentais melon harvested on Oct 11, 2010.
Mushrooms picked on Oct 15, 2010 with my mushroom club.
Our bountiful chataigne harvest one fall day.
Tarte aux pommes from Fete des Ecoles. It smelled so good, we ate it in the car as the rain came down.
Spelunking initiation day. The first pic of R going into the hole is hilarious! It looks like it was a tense situation.
Smiles of ecstasy from having emerged from the grotte Felicite!
Mushrooms picked on Oct 15, 2010 with my mushroom club.
Our bountiful chataigne harvest one fall day.
Tarte aux pommes from Fete des Ecoles. It smelled so good, we ate it in the car as the rain came down.
Spelunking initiation day. The first pic of R going into the hole is hilarious! It looks like it was a tense situation. 
Smiles of ecstasy from having emerged from the grotte Felicite!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Spelunking is NOT a stroll in the park
Gray skies and light rains lasted throughout the day but it didn't keep us inside. First, a quick stop at the dechetterie to drop off our recycles and yard waste. Next, a visit to Ville's school where the kiddies were having a fundraiser and selling freshly pressed apple cider and tarte aux pommes - yumm! Then, a stop at Bellegarde's mushroom "expo". It was a tiny expo, but to our delight, the hosts were really nice and they baked 5 different savory "cakes" with different mushrooms in them. We ate the "cakes" with homemade alcohol made with local ingredients - one was made from sage; another from basil; another from a local berry.
After Skyping with May and the boys, R and I got ready for our big adventure of the day. This summer, when there was an open day for the local clubs in Bellegarde, R and I met the speleo club and told them we'd be interested in their "initiation" day.
So today was it! At the beginning of the week, the club sent us a really simple email. Dress warmly in layers in clothes you don't mind being totally dirtied; bring water & snacks; wear boots; bring rubber kitchen gloves. Thinking it was an initiation day, we expected a fairly easy expedition for novices...maybe a bit physical but nothing crazy!
We drove to the meeting place which was a parking area by the side of road next to a big mountain. At the location, we met the group (10 in total including us; 5 experts; 5 newbies like us) and had to pay for insurance (12CHF for both of us which is freaking ridiculously cheap) and sign in case something happened to us. To prepare for our expedition, we donned knee high rubber boots and helmets with lights (grace au club). Then we started walking to our entrance - within minutes, we stopped. I was puzzled because I didn't see any entrance to our grotte Felicite which means happiness in French.
The guides were pointing at a small hole in the mountain which was 2 feet in diameter (or slightly less). We had reached our entrance into the grotte - my first thought? Sh**!!!! What have I gotten myself into. Did I mention I've had nightmares where I've had to crawl into tiny holes which seem too small to fit me but then it does.
But I was there, so I was going to do it! One by one, we got on all fours and slid in head first because the hole was so low and narrow. R went ahead of me, barely fitting through because it was a small hole but also because we had on so many layers. When it was my turn, I took a deep breath and went in, feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland, not knowing what to expect inside.
How do I describe the descent and the spelunking expedition? It was dark, cold enough inside so we could see our breaths, and after crawling into the hole, we descended down it pretty fast into a small landing with a pool of water a few inches deep. And then we sort of walked down a little bit, noticing that the ceiling got lower and lower as the cave walls got narrower and narrower.
In many places it was so narrow and the cave ceiling so low, we had to crawl on our stomaches; in a few places, it was too low to really crawl so we had to drag our selves with our arms through sand, stone, pebbles and pretty F****** cold water to get to the other side.
It was a long meandering expedition and I for one didn't know how long it was..just knew it would take 3 hours to do. Dowwwwwnnnnnnn and then Uppppppppppp we went. We navigated deep pools of water (deep enough we were advised to not step into it) so we had use the sides of the cave to navigate across the water. Thank god there were ropes at the very dangerous points. But every step was made judiciously because some places were super high and it was also pretty slippery (thank goodness for the rubber boots and rubber gloves, which are now totally shredded). I don't have claustrophobia but there was a point towards the end where I would have given anything to emerge outside - but then I learned we had to crawl back out the same way we went in!
The whole time, I continued, sometimes stopped to take a look around..and then we had to move forward again. It was SO COOL - being inside the belly of a mountain. We saw cool stalactites, the ones that hang down like icicles. It was a real physical and mental challenge but it was such good fun...and I'm so happy I did it but if I had known what I was getting myself into, there would have been NO WAY I could have done it.
I'm now sitting in my PJS, all warm and clean after having taken one of the BEST showers in my life. The endorphins are rushing through my body! Despite the bruises, and the aching muscles, I'm so happy for the experience and surprised I was not really afraid or lose my sh** at the scary parts.
This is what I love about France - or about the French countryside. Everyone is really gracious and ready to share their knowledge and passion! The guides were great and so helpful at the points where I needed help navigating. Even though it's only 36Euro a year to join the speleo club, I'm pretty sure I'm not signing up anymore for these type of spelunking expeditions (considering the one we did today was for debutantes). I'll post pics when the members send them to me!
After Skyping with May and the boys, R and I got ready for our big adventure of the day. This summer, when there was an open day for the local clubs in Bellegarde, R and I met the speleo club and told them we'd be interested in their "initiation" day.
So today was it! At the beginning of the week, the club sent us a really simple email. Dress warmly in layers in clothes you don't mind being totally dirtied; bring water & snacks; wear boots; bring rubber kitchen gloves. Thinking it was an initiation day, we expected a fairly easy expedition for novices...maybe a bit physical but nothing crazy!
We drove to the meeting place which was a parking area by the side of road next to a big mountain. At the location, we met the group (10 in total including us; 5 experts; 5 newbies like us) and had to pay for insurance (12CHF for both of us which is freaking ridiculously cheap) and sign in case something happened to us. To prepare for our expedition, we donned knee high rubber boots and helmets with lights (grace au club). Then we started walking to our entrance - within minutes, we stopped. I was puzzled because I didn't see any entrance to our grotte Felicite which means happiness in French.
The guides were pointing at a small hole in the mountain which was 2 feet in diameter (or slightly less). We had reached our entrance into the grotte - my first thought? Sh**!!!! What have I gotten myself into. Did I mention I've had nightmares where I've had to crawl into tiny holes which seem too small to fit me but then it does.
But I was there, so I was going to do it! One by one, we got on all fours and slid in head first because the hole was so low and narrow. R went ahead of me, barely fitting through because it was a small hole but also because we had on so many layers. When it was my turn, I took a deep breath and went in, feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland, not knowing what to expect inside.
How do I describe the descent and the spelunking expedition? It was dark, cold enough inside so we could see our breaths, and after crawling into the hole, we descended down it pretty fast into a small landing with a pool of water a few inches deep. And then we sort of walked down a little bit, noticing that the ceiling got lower and lower as the cave walls got narrower and narrower.
In many places it was so narrow and the cave ceiling so low, we had to crawl on our stomaches; in a few places, it was too low to really crawl so we had to drag our selves with our arms through sand, stone, pebbles and pretty F****** cold water to get to the other side.
It was a long meandering expedition and I for one didn't know how long it was..just knew it would take 3 hours to do. Dowwwwwnnnnnnn and then Uppppppppppp we went. We navigated deep pools of water (deep enough we were advised to not step into it) so we had use the sides of the cave to navigate across the water. Thank god there were ropes at the very dangerous points. But every step was made judiciously because some places were super high and it was also pretty slippery (thank goodness for the rubber boots and rubber gloves, which are now totally shredded). I don't have claustrophobia but there was a point towards the end where I would have given anything to emerge outside - but then I learned we had to crawl back out the same way we went in!
The whole time, I continued, sometimes stopped to take a look around..and then we had to move forward again. It was SO COOL - being inside the belly of a mountain. We saw cool stalactites, the ones that hang down like icicles. It was a real physical and mental challenge but it was such good fun...and I'm so happy I did it but if I had known what I was getting myself into, there would have been NO WAY I could have done it.
I'm now sitting in my PJS, all warm and clean after having taken one of the BEST showers in my life. The endorphins are rushing through my body! Despite the bruises, and the aching muscles, I'm so happy for the experience and surprised I was not really afraid or lose my sh** at the scary parts.
This is what I love about France - or about the French countryside. Everyone is really gracious and ready to share their knowledge and passion! The guides were great and so helpful at the points where I needed help navigating. Even though it's only 36Euro a year to join the speleo club, I'm pretty sure I'm not signing up anymore for these type of spelunking expeditions (considering the one we did today was for debutantes). I'll post pics when the members send them to me!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Le Tour de France, Le Coupe du Monde, et le 14 de juillet
It's the last week of classes and my classmates and I have been doing exposés, or presentations, in French. Yesterday I donned my Red Sox cap to talk about Boston, my hometown. In my research, I stumbled upon this interesting tidbit: the Bostonian accent resembles the one found in Lincolnshire, England, because the Puritans came from there. At the end, there were lots of questions about Boston, and a request to hear the famous accent. I obliged with "I pahked my cah in Hahvahd yahd to get a wicket good cupah clam chowdah but the weahd chowdah guy was lookin at me funny and I had no idear why."
This weekend we watched Le Tour de France (live, as in we were there when Lance passed by, however, they were going so fast that I wasn't able to pick him out from the crowd) and Le Coupe du Monde (live streaming, as in we were watching it from Pickwick's Pub with about a million other fans).
This week France celebrates its national holiday—Americans call it "Bastille Day" but the French refer to it as "Fête nationale" or le quatorze de juillet. Yesterday Paris hosted une grande procession/parade sur les Champs-Elysées. The French officers' uniforms were beautiful and meticulous, nary a thread or feather out of place. The parade is a veritable display of military power—and also a synchronized military fashion show of blue feathers, ebony black, crisp whites, and blood reds. Zarkozy on the other hand...he would look better with a smile on his face every so often. In a historic moment this year France invited its former colonies in Africa to participate in the grande défilé in Paris—thirteen out of the fourteen former French colonies accepted the invitation, including representatives from Niger who added a little bounce to their march. This YouTube video shows parachuters presenting President Nicholas Sarkozy and other eminent heads of state with thirteen flags (one from each of the 13 participating countries).
This weekend we watched Le Tour de France (live, as in we were there when Lance passed by, however, they were going so fast that I wasn't able to pick him out from the crowd) and Le Coupe du Monde (live streaming, as in we were watching it from Pickwick's Pub with about a million other fans).
This week France celebrates its national holiday—Americans call it "Bastille Day" but the French refer to it as "Fête nationale" or le quatorze de juillet. Yesterday Paris hosted une grande procession/parade sur les Champs-Elysées. The French officers' uniforms were beautiful and meticulous, nary a thread or feather out of place. The parade is a veritable display of military power—and also a synchronized military fashion show of blue feathers, ebony black, crisp whites, and blood reds. Zarkozy on the other hand...he would look better with a smile on his face every so often. In a historic moment this year France invited its former colonies in Africa to participate in the grande défilé in Paris—thirteen out of the fourteen former French colonies accepted the invitation, including representatives from Niger who added a little bounce to their march. This YouTube video shows parachuters presenting President Nicholas Sarkozy and other eminent heads of state with thirteen flags (one from each of the 13 participating countries).
Sunday, June 27, 2010
USA is out on a full moon
A beautiful day gave way to a beautiful fuschia sunset. The full moon is high tonight—was hoping for a USA win, but Ghana played well. There are so many Spanish speaking countries in the Round of 16, the finals may end up pitting one Spanish speaking country against another.
Today's Good Things
Today's Good Things
- Received my 4th piece of snail mail. Thanks SD for your letter. I'll write back soon
- My coriander seeds are germinating—I see tell-tale coriander leaves
- Skyping with May and family
- The local Fete de l'ecole and folding paper cranes, balls and boxes with my Japanese friend who was manning the origami table. I folded a fun box—and it got me thinking about decorating a wall of our new "reading room" with a colorful paper crane garland
- Worked on my resume a little and forwarded my resume to someone who's offered to review my resume from a Swiss/international perspective. I'm really grateful and looking forward to hearing his feedback
- Started some weight training and hope to keep up with it. My back's been bothering me lately and I hope this alleviates the pain
Saturday, June 19, 2010
A new friend and on being famous!
A few weeks ago, when I first moved here, I met a Japanese woman who lives in the same village, about ten minutes away. We've been exchanging emails and yesterday we met for the first time. As she's Japanese, I brought some homemade gyozas to share with her and her two young sons. Having moved to France 7 years ago to start a new life with her French husband, she had gone through the same adjustment period as I was going through now. She offered her perspective on expat life, acclimating to a new country, language, and customs. She said it took a while to fully adjust and there were definitely moving pains but eventually you grow less homesick and more in love with your new country. I had a great time at her house and hope to see her and the boys again soon.
On another note France's nationwide celebration to music, La Fête de la Musique, starts this weekend and lasts until the first week of August. To learn more about the Fete's activities in our town, R and I walked down to the local Tourism office. I wanted stationary and R wanted today's paper, so we stopped at La Presse, a bookstore. I didn't find any stationary, but R bought a great comic book about our town and found a picture of me in the regional paper! There I am, posing with the members of the shooting club from last Sunday—the caption under the picture reads: Members of the local shooting club. Not even close to being true, but I'm famous now.
R and I are snacking on some sausages we bought at Les Halles in Dijon—and then we'll do some shopping at the local Home Depot (the house is a work-in-progress). Following that, we'll attend a local fete tonight in town. And tomorrow, we'll head to la fête in Geneva after my driving lesson. Lots of activities for the kids—wish my nephews were here right now. I miss the little guys like crazy.
On another note France's nationwide celebration to music, La Fête de la Musique, starts this weekend and lasts until the first week of August. To learn more about the Fete's activities in our town, R and I walked down to the local Tourism office. I wanted stationary and R wanted today's paper, so we stopped at La Presse, a bookstore. I didn't find any stationary, but R bought a great comic book about our town and found a picture of me in the regional paper! There I am, posing with the members of the shooting club from last Sunday—the caption under the picture reads: Members of the local shooting club. Not even close to being true, but I'm famous now.
R and I are snacking on some sausages we bought at Les Halles in Dijon—and then we'll do some shopping at the local Home Depot (the house is a work-in-progress). Following that, we'll attend a local fete tonight in town. And tomorrow, we'll head to la fête in Geneva after my driving lesson. Lots of activities for the kids—wish my nephews were here right now. I miss the little guys like crazy.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Un bon week-end
The Ain-Jura area hosted two exciting events this weekend. Fast cars and a gun gallery, served with a generous helping of friendly locals and good food.
SAMEDI
The 34th annual Le rallye national Ain-Jura took place this weekend in l'Ain and in the neighboring département of Jura. Ce rallye is a professional car rally race with eight timed stages that snake through four different villages in the Ain-Jura départements (with other rallyes hosted in different départements throughtout the spring and summer). R and I drove to the stage in the next village over, perched ourselves at the public viewing area, and watched the race cars queue at the start. In addition to professional drivers with their professional cars, the rally also permits enthusiasts (non-professional, but trained amateurs) to register and race on the course.
Since La Tribune devoted only a few lines to the event, R and I were surprised to find such a well organized, well attended event. Among the hundred plus cars, there were Porsches, souped up Subarus (which apparently have won lots of professional races), VWs, Renaults, BMWs, and more. Living in a small town, we were bound to bump into people we knew. At the rallye we saw one of our neighbors' grandson and the horse farmer who had brought les chevaux over to our house last night.
There are four horses in total, all male and ivory-colored. When they arrived I took a break from my weeding to fed them a treat of hard, crusty bread. Apparently the horses had been grazing up in the mountains for a few weeks, and when the farmer and his helper brought them down, they had not eaten for a few hours and were hungry. The farmer said they'd be able to eat all the grass from our property in 7-10 days. We haven't mowed the hilly parts of the property this year, in anticipation of their arrival, so the entire front part has tall grass ready for munching. It is quite a sight seeing these beautiful animals from my kitchen window.
DIMANCHE
R read something online regarding an open house at a local shooting club. We left the house around 11am and thought we'd spend a few hours at the open house before heading to Fort l'Ecluse for le vide grenier, a big flea market, but it literally translates to "empty attic".
The purpose of the shooting club's open house? It wasn't to attract new members as we initially thought. It was to give the community a chance to learn about the club, meet its members, and learn about different types of guns and how to properly shoot them. Thought of MS today, as she recently fired some guns up in Cooperstown, NY. Up til today I had gone through my adult life without ever touching a gun, or even hearing it discharge. Today's open house was the perfect opportunity for R and I to learn how to shoot one. A bit anxious, I watched some others learn to shoot first, including a woman in her 40s who was learning to use a .22 rifle.
For 1.5€, you get 5 bullets for the .22 rifle. One of the club members gave us a demonstration on how to shoot a rifle, which is different than shooting a handgun. He showed us the proper stance, how to align the sites on the rifle to the target, and how to squeeze the trigger.
I did two test shots sans bullets before the instructor loaded the rifle. For extra safety, I put in ear plugs and noise-deafening headphones. My heart started beating faster with anticipation as I took my stance—I had to remind myself to continue breathing. Holding the rifle braced closely to my right shoulder, I steadied the rifle with my left hand. With my left eye closed, I aligned my sites to the target, then I breathed and squeezed the trigger. The noise was loud but not horrible and there was no recoil.
I fired that first shot..and then a few more. In between shots, the instructor showed me where the bullets landed so I could re-adjust the alignment of my target. In total, I shot 10 bullets, with 7 of them landing on the paper target. To my surprise (because I felt like I was super shaky), the instructor said I had a steady hand and trigger finger. The 5 bullets that landed were clustered along the middle of the target, but a little too low of the bullseye. It was more than I expected and I was pleased I hit the paper target more than half of the time. R tried the same rifle and did great. Throughout the day, a man dressed in military garb fired a cannon that made such a big boom that my heart felt like it jumped to my throat. Afterwards, we had lunch prepared by the club members for only 5€ a person. Ridiculously cheap and good...homemade terrine, crusty baguette, jambon, rice with vegetables, apple tart, vegetable salad, red wine and at the end, some moonshine made with local prunes. At 80 proof, a small sip warms your throat instantly. Everyone was really friendly and we even met a member Ludivic who had spent 7 years in NYC in the restaurant business.
After lunch I watched while R learned how to shoot a .38 Magnum, a .22 Revolver, and two .45 rifles that sparked fire when they discharged. All of them exploded with power and a loud boom and some recoil. Some interesting observations:
FOOTNOTES
France is organized into a hundred département, or administrative zones. R and I live in L'Ain, a département numerically signified as 01. More on départements, perfectures, cantons in a future post.
Hope everyone had a bon week-end. Do you have World Cup fever? Did you watch the US vs England game and were amazed by the 1-1 result? Do you have Celtics fever?
SAMEDI
The 34th annual Le rallye national Ain-Jura took place this weekend in l'Ain and in the neighboring département of Jura. Ce rallye is a professional car rally race with eight timed stages that snake through four different villages in the Ain-Jura départements (with other rallyes hosted in different départements throughtout the spring and summer). R and I drove to the stage in the next village over, perched ourselves at the public viewing area, and watched the race cars queue at the start. In addition to professional drivers with their professional cars, the rally also permits enthusiasts (non-professional, but trained amateurs) to register and race on the course.
Since La Tribune devoted only a few lines to the event, R and I were surprised to find such a well organized, well attended event. Among the hundred plus cars, there were Porsches, souped up Subarus (which apparently have won lots of professional races), VWs, Renaults, BMWs, and more. Living in a small town, we were bound to bump into people we knew. At the rallye we saw one of our neighbors' grandson and the horse farmer who had brought les chevaux over to our house last night.
There are four horses in total, all male and ivory-colored. When they arrived I took a break from my weeding to fed them a treat of hard, crusty bread. Apparently the horses had been grazing up in the mountains for a few weeks, and when the farmer and his helper brought them down, they had not eaten for a few hours and were hungry. The farmer said they'd be able to eat all the grass from our property in 7-10 days. We haven't mowed the hilly parts of the property this year, in anticipation of their arrival, so the entire front part has tall grass ready for munching. It is quite a sight seeing these beautiful animals from my kitchen window.
DIMANCHE
R read something online regarding an open house at a local shooting club. We left the house around 11am and thought we'd spend a few hours at the open house before heading to Fort l'Ecluse for le vide grenier, a big flea market, but it literally translates to "empty attic".
The purpose of the shooting club's open house? It wasn't to attract new members as we initially thought. It was to give the community a chance to learn about the club, meet its members, and learn about different types of guns and how to properly shoot them. Thought of MS today, as she recently fired some guns up in Cooperstown, NY. Up til today I had gone through my adult life without ever touching a gun, or even hearing it discharge. Today's open house was the perfect opportunity for R and I to learn how to shoot one. A bit anxious, I watched some others learn to shoot first, including a woman in her 40s who was learning to use a .22 rifle.
For 1.5€, you get 5 bullets for the .22 rifle. One of the club members gave us a demonstration on how to shoot a rifle, which is different than shooting a handgun. He showed us the proper stance, how to align the sites on the rifle to the target, and how to squeeze the trigger.
I did two test shots sans bullets before the instructor loaded the rifle. For extra safety, I put in ear plugs and noise-deafening headphones. My heart started beating faster with anticipation as I took my stance—I had to remind myself to continue breathing. Holding the rifle braced closely to my right shoulder, I steadied the rifle with my left hand. With my left eye closed, I aligned my sites to the target, then I breathed and squeezed the trigger. The noise was loud but not horrible and there was no recoil.
I fired that first shot..and then a few more. In between shots, the instructor showed me where the bullets landed so I could re-adjust the alignment of my target. In total, I shot 10 bullets, with 7 of them landing on the paper target. To my surprise (because I felt like I was super shaky), the instructor said I had a steady hand and trigger finger. The 5 bullets that landed were clustered along the middle of the target, but a little too low of the bullseye. It was more than I expected and I was pleased I hit the paper target more than half of the time. R tried the same rifle and did great. Throughout the day, a man dressed in military garb fired a cannon that made such a big boom that my heart felt like it jumped to my throat. Afterwards, we had lunch prepared by the club members for only 5€ a person. Ridiculously cheap and good...homemade terrine, crusty baguette, jambon, rice with vegetables, apple tart, vegetable salad, red wine and at the end, some moonshine made with local prunes. At 80 proof, a small sip warms your throat instantly. Everyone was really friendly and we even met a member Ludivic who had spent 7 years in NYC in the restaurant business.
After lunch I watched while R learned how to shoot a .38 Magnum, a .22 Revolver, and two .45 rifles that sparked fire when they discharged. All of them exploded with power and a loud boom and some recoil. Some interesting observations:
- There were quite a few women at the open house learning to shoot for the first time
- Everyone starts laughing after the trigger is pulled...I guess it's a release of tension while waiting for the gun to fire. Does that make them "trigger happy"?
- With parental permission, children as young as 13 can learn how to shoot
- Even though boxes of bullets were right next to each of the guns, everyone was responsible and followed the "rules" which was basically, don't touch anything and don't point the gun at anything except the paper target
- There were some really intricately carved and beautiful guns in the club's collection
- There are guns that can shoot a rider and his horse from separate barrels in the same gun.
FOOTNOTES
France is organized into a hundred département, or administrative zones. R and I live in L'Ain, a département numerically signified as 01. More on départements, perfectures, cantons in a future post.
Hope everyone had a bon week-end. Do you have World Cup fever? Did you watch the US vs England game and were amazed by the 1-1 result? Do you have Celtics fever?
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Fêtes galore
This weekend marks the beginning of summer here. R and I have been seeing signs pop up along the roads like mushrooms, advertising local fêtes planned in the vicinity. At Gamme Vert and other garden stores, I see a steady stream of customers.
Our little town sits in the center of our valley and even though the town center is not big, there always seems to be things happening here. Today we had a very busy day visiting a number of events in town and Saint Claude.
Gastronomical tasting event. There was wine and food from local farmers and businesses. We tried dried saucisson from the farmer who keeps highland cattle a few kilometers from where we live. And I nibbled on crusty bread with different olive tapenades. We bought three pain au chocolate for 2€— formidable.
Palais Oriental. In France oriental usually means Middle Eastern (and North African). There were tables set up with food, tea, and drinks but the highlight of the day was the Turkish, Morroccan, Algerian, and Tunisian dancing shows scheduled for later in the evening.
Fort L'Ecluse nearby has a free Via Ferrata. I am a bit terrified of heights, so I'll happily watch from terra firma. But unfortunately we messed up on the dates and would have to return tomorrow to see the demonstrations on the actual date of the fête. Perhaps a thin metal wire will keep me tethered, but I'm not looking forward to walking a plank or traversing a tight rope with nothing below but tons of air!
Fête d'oiseau is located in another small town close to Geneva. Does this fête have anything to do with les oiseaux or birds? Pas de tout. It's just a small town carnival complete with rides and games. Again we were too early as they were just setting up the different stands.
DRIVING UPDATE
Driving lesson #7. I can pretty much start the car now without stalling. My shifting is still too slow but at least I'm not really thinking about the clutch anymore. We were in a small parking lot, with lots of turns, so I practiced turning and reversing. I want to practice again on the empty road and parking lot close to our house tomorrow.
After the driving lesson R and I visited the Asian market in Ferney-Voltaire. I hit the jackpot! The store is small but has a pretty good selection and reasonable French prices. I zoom in on big jars of sambal olek, tamarind paste, rice paper, vermicelli, ginger, fresh mangosteen, big bottles of fish sauce, rice vinegar, mirin, miso paste, nori, wasabi paste, Thai holy basil, fresh mint, fresh coriander, dried yellow mung beans, dried red beans, and tapioca pearls. They even have baking powder and baking soda, though I doubt I'll need such huge containers of them.
Leaving with my goodies, we journey to Saint-Claude stopping at le chapeau de gendarme, a rock formation created millions of years ago when layers of the earth pushed up, and split, revealing each distinct layer inside. The rock formation is so called because it resembles the triangular shape of a French gendarme's hat.
Saint-Claude is a small town home to a large abbey and some 11,000 people. I was feeling very queasy from the twisty climb up and down to Saint-Claude, so we sat outside at a cafe for a while and hung out with the locals before walking through town.
From what I could see the two main industries were devoted to smoking pipes and eyeglass frames. On our walk we stumbled upon a carnival three times bigger than the one we had initially planned on going to. We watch some teenage boys play a shooting game where they can win things like women's thongs and sexy fur handcuffs. Amused we left to find ourselves a snack and settled on doner kebabs. I got a regular kebab sandwich while R got le Americain which is a steak sandwich topped with fries. One odd thing I spotted is something called Reglisse Americain, American Licorice. The French seem to think it's very long strands of colorful, sweetly flavored licorice. I'm not a fan of licorice..so I walk on.
On our drive back I managed to stay awake (quite a feat for me, as I often get drowsy when I'm a passenger in the car). When we returned to town, we checked out the two festivals near the market square that we had visited earlier. The gastronome event was still going strong, as was the Palais Oriental.
Down the street we followed the rhythmic percussion of Arabic music and joined hundreds of people singing and dancing to the dance demonstrations. There are children dancing close to the front of the stage. And friends and families sitting together, talking and drinking out in the open. R notes that everyone's still well-behaved and there's no bawdy drunkenness. R and I find a place to sit near the front, listening and rocking out to the drums and an instrument that sounds a bit like a bagpipe. A long fine day in France.
Our little town sits in the center of our valley and even though the town center is not big, there always seems to be things happening here. Today we had a very busy day visiting a number of events in town and Saint Claude.
Gastronomical tasting event. There was wine and food from local farmers and businesses. We tried dried saucisson from the farmer who keeps highland cattle a few kilometers from where we live. And I nibbled on crusty bread with different olive tapenades. We bought three pain au chocolate for 2€— formidable.
Palais Oriental. In France oriental usually means Middle Eastern (and North African). There were tables set up with food, tea, and drinks but the highlight of the day was the Turkish, Morroccan, Algerian, and Tunisian dancing shows scheduled for later in the evening.
Fort L'Ecluse nearby has a free Via Ferrata. I am a bit terrified of heights, so I'll happily watch from terra firma. But unfortunately we messed up on the dates and would have to return tomorrow to see the demonstrations on the actual date of the fête. Perhaps a thin metal wire will keep me tethered, but I'm not looking forward to walking a plank or traversing a tight rope with nothing below but tons of air!
Fête d'oiseau is located in another small town close to Geneva. Does this fête have anything to do with les oiseaux or birds? Pas de tout. It's just a small town carnival complete with rides and games. Again we were too early as they were just setting up the different stands.
DRIVING UPDATE
Driving lesson #7. I can pretty much start the car now without stalling. My shifting is still too slow but at least I'm not really thinking about the clutch anymore. We were in a small parking lot, with lots of turns, so I practiced turning and reversing. I want to practice again on the empty road and parking lot close to our house tomorrow.
After the driving lesson R and I visited the Asian market in Ferney-Voltaire. I hit the jackpot! The store is small but has a pretty good selection and reasonable French prices. I zoom in on big jars of sambal olek, tamarind paste, rice paper, vermicelli, ginger, fresh mangosteen, big bottles of fish sauce, rice vinegar, mirin, miso paste, nori, wasabi paste, Thai holy basil, fresh mint, fresh coriander, dried yellow mung beans, dried red beans, and tapioca pearls. They even have baking powder and baking soda, though I doubt I'll need such huge containers of them.
Leaving with my goodies, we journey to Saint-Claude stopping at le chapeau de gendarme, a rock formation created millions of years ago when layers of the earth pushed up, and split, revealing each distinct layer inside. The rock formation is so called because it resembles the triangular shape of a French gendarme's hat.
Saint-Claude is a small town home to a large abbey and some 11,000 people. I was feeling very queasy from the twisty climb up and down to Saint-Claude, so we sat outside at a cafe for a while and hung out with the locals before walking through town.
From what I could see the two main industries were devoted to smoking pipes and eyeglass frames. On our walk we stumbled upon a carnival three times bigger than the one we had initially planned on going to. We watch some teenage boys play a shooting game where they can win things like women's thongs and sexy fur handcuffs. Amused we left to find ourselves a snack and settled on doner kebabs. I got a regular kebab sandwich while R got le Americain which is a steak sandwich topped with fries. One odd thing I spotted is something called Reglisse Americain, American Licorice. The French seem to think it's very long strands of colorful, sweetly flavored licorice. I'm not a fan of licorice..so I walk on.
On our drive back I managed to stay awake (quite a feat for me, as I often get drowsy when I'm a passenger in the car). When we returned to town, we checked out the two festivals near the market square that we had visited earlier. The gastronome event was still going strong, as was the Palais Oriental.
Down the street we followed the rhythmic percussion of Arabic music and joined hundreds of people singing and dancing to the dance demonstrations. There are children dancing close to the front of the stage. And friends and families sitting together, talking and drinking out in the open. R notes that everyone's still well-behaved and there's no bawdy drunkenness. R and I find a place to sit near the front, listening and rocking out to the drums and an instrument that sounds a bit like a bagpipe. A long fine day in France.
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