Birds

Heading down to the gulf again I was a bit overwhelmed by the amount of ducks. I wasn't expecting ducks as there were none at all this morning. There were more people too, even though the sun had almost disappeared. A lot were running and had brought a child along for support. These children are plonked on bikes and either race ahead, for the parent to keep up with, or flag behind enough that the parent has to push them for exercise. Still, this was not enough to scare the birds away and it was a really nice evening walk. The people had disappeared by the end and the photos perhaps show how tranquil it is down there. Except for the mallards. They are endlessly complaining or having arguments with neighbours. 

Click for full view and you can scroll through them. 

I am absolutely definitely not going bird watching.

That sounds like the title of a Charlie and Lola book - I think I should write it. 

Despite living in a flat in a town, I am grateful for having been dropped here for two reasons: there are people who live nearby who have chimneys and make the road smell of wood smoke, and I am a 12 minute cycle from the Gulf of Morbihan. 

I know it was twelve minutes because I didn't manage to cycle fast enough to get 3.something kilometers down to ten minutes. 

Anyway, it was another unusually sunny November day today so having my bike with me after tutoring this morning I decided to investigate the track that leads down from their road right to the gulf. This is the view from their road: 

I've explored the other end of this track before, a few miles away. But that end attaches to Conleau, a little touristy island with lots of people and a handful of boats as it's within walking distance of the port. This end is a lot nicer. There were still people walking and running, because it's a Saturday, but it was very peaceful. I nearly dosed off on a bench in the slightly warm sun surrounded by chirping birds. Wading birds often sound very relaxed in their noise making, like there is no hurry to get anywhere or do anything. It reminded me of the lagoon on Brownsea Island a bit, with all the pines and oaks and marshy water full of waders. I was given a clue to how bird-full this places was by the jays as I came down the path. 

(Here's a convenient picture of a jay that I did a few months ago: )

Anyway, if this place is full of birds at midday, what's it like at dusk when they all come down to roost? I'm going to go down in half an hour or so with the telephoto lens to find out. So I'm not going just to look at the birds. It's very photogenic down there. 

Falafels on Rue des Rosiers and Sacha Finkelsztajn

Rue de Rosiers is a narrow street in Marais, Paris' traditionally Jewish quarter. It's best known for it's falafel vendors, the most popular of which 'L'As de Falafel' can easily have a queue fifteen people long taken care of by a frantic Israeli man giving out reservation tickets. It's not always this busy, but their falafel was the better falafel out of the two that I tried.

The other was a shop further down the street that I decided to visit when the queue at L'As was typically very long and I had been wondering around trying to fulfill a falafel craving for about 40 minutes. It's not the easiest road to find when you have forgotten the name and have only been to Marais once. But I did orient myself eventually without much help of the map and can say I now know Marais a lot better. Anyway, the other place was called Chez Hanna, and it was very nearly as good. It just had a little too much tahini sauce and there was less aubergine - plonked on top instead of stuffed in. It was very melty aubergine nonetheless and that's how it should be. Indeed there was very little in it between the two places and I would happily eat at either of them again, or recommend them to others, because you get the whole of this for 5€ (7.50€ if you eat in).

So here are falafels, roast aubergine, two types of salad (one of them beetroot) and lots of tahini sauce. And really nice warm pitta. Mmm. It makes a good meal in itself, no need for anything else.

I got drawn into this because of the funny name but also because there were rows of pastries I had never heard of. There was a type of cheesecake, lots of savory pasty type things, very chocolately sachertorte and two types of strudel: Romanian and Austrian. And many more that I've forgotten. I was served a piece by a rather brusque Polish lady and then given a handwritten ticket to take to a man at a desk and till at the back. There were lots of other things I would have like to try but my strudel cost me three euros a piece so I decided to limit myself. The place was equally full of bread and other deli items sold ready-cooked in trays. I went for the traditional strudel, tasty but lacked the conventional filo type pastry, but I would still go back here and try many other things. I approve of roads like this that somehow pack in more food shops than their size would give away.

Getting a phone unlocked

I didn't really think that this would be possible in Vannes - it doesn't have enough seedy looking shops or back alleys. So I made it my business to get this done in Paris. London has the sort of shop that will unlock your mobile on every other corner, Southampton is equally full of these, so I was a bit bemused by this lack but then again Vannes is not very big and I imagine no one ever wants to switch phone provider. I was wondering around St Germain where, especially near the bank of the Seine, there are a lot of tourist tat shops many looking like they'd do it. Couldn't really find any signs, and as St Germain is pretty fancy I didn't think this would be the place to get a cheap deal. I asked a woman selling I love Paris generalia and she said that Barbès is the best place. Barbès is a big boulevard slap bang in the middle meeting point of the 8th, 9th and 18th - and is heaving with people. It's a very multicultural place, which was refreshing after marching around the tourist areas and Rue de Rivoli/St Germain and such. Anyway, the first shop didn't manage although they offered me a good deal of 10€. Second place succeeded for 15€, although threatened (perhaps jokingly) to make me pay 35€ as I couldn't wait for it to be done in the morning and left for most of the day to collect it later.

So that was a rather roundabout way of saying that if you need to get a phone unlocked (débloqué or désimlocké) then go to Paris and to Boulevard Barbès.

Medecin

After turning up an hour before I was meant too, I managed to organise an extensive course of vaccinations at the French doctor's. The turning up early was not too much of a problem because I can see the roof of the doctor's from my balcony. This will be great for if I have to crawl there having contracted dysentery or something in Mexico, that'd be just my luck.

Despite making an ever so slight loss on appointments (we pay 23€ and are reimbursed the majority through Social Security) I do not mind at all. It's like going to private healthcare, not that I ever have: mine is a small surgery with a special children's waiting room and nice wooden floors and cosy Doctors offices. Helps that it was built in a house and not a custom-made clinic. It was so homely and small that I didn't really understand the receptionist situation. In fact, going through the main door, you are then faced with two doors and two doorbells. It's like something out of Alice and Wonderland. You have to 'Sonnez et Entrez', and then go through the door to find out that both doors lead into the same corridor. Strange. But I think they had different sounding doorbells depending on which doctor you had an appointment with. This also seemed to act as a way of making your arrival known to the staff, as there was no obvious secretary or germ embedded NHS touchscreen. Another girl waiting there did not know any better than me, so I sat with National Geographic (and it's seemingly incessant inca articles, no problem!) until Lovely-Doctor come to get me. Hand shaking is common in this sort of situation in France, but it must be so often that they are reluctant to shake the hand of some tuberculosed patient.

I don't remember if GPs in England all look like they work in TV hospitals because I always get palmed off to some nurse or other, but Dr Savet was so well turned out in her chic office that I felt like I'd gone in to visit the head of some fancy place in Paris. Or Cuddy's office. It was so nice and homely that I couldn't see any sterile gloves or fold out hospital bed so that must've been hidden away in another room or I had ended up at a pretend Doctor's surgery. We know a French GP, and so far all seem to have been ridiculously lovely people I want to grow up and be. She was really helpful in figuring out how to get a 6 month course of vaccinations in the five months I will have here, and looked in detail about whether rabies can be given at the same time with Hep B. For this I do not mind paying a little! Although it is a system where you immediately pay upfront and are given a reimbursment form, a bit like some NHS dentistry, it works alright and the paperwork substantially decreases once you have health insurance sorted. Although I cannot emphasise how good it is that you can just turn up at an NHS hospital regardless of where you are from and have access to healthcare, even more so for me because I don't pay taxes yet and it's free. It's also quite funny that I will have to physically purchase the vaccinations from the pharmacy and carry them across the road to lovely-Doctor to jab me with.

Off to Paris early tomorrow morning for a very extended weekend due to Armistice day!