ok.
so there's a bit of catching up to do. one week in samouillan with nath and the family was a 'holiday within a holiday'. much chilling. much coffee, cheese, bread and laughing about farts.
yes, uncivilised as it is, hanging out with your high school buddy brings back the adolescent humour in an instant wave of nostalgia and 'pull my finger' giggling stupidity.
here, we're supposed to be doing some product marketing for christel's shop, photographing some new pendants she is introducing. but really, we're just reverting to childhood.
I'd like to point out that Christel specifically said "I want you to make it look like a girly tea-party" - so naturally the guys get out the storm trooper lego.
most hilarious moment:
concocting a 'gary ribald' drink (one beer, one sugar, one espresso all in one glass) only to have it froth up at an alarming rate, so nath and i dive into our glasses to drink it up, only i laugh too quickly, blowing caffeine coloured beer froth all over the kitchen walls, and, most hilariously, all over nath's face, clothes and beanie. he had beer froth in his eyebrows for about an hour.
major cackfest.
increasingly delirious giggling ensued shortly after we had settled back down to resume our consumption of the wonder beverage and nath pulled the exact same feat, only this time blowing the froth back on his own face.
genius.
no pics for that sequence i'm afraid. video footage would no doubt have found its way on to youtube by now if only we had some!
outside of boyish giggling fits and reminiscences, samouillan was a lovely experience. samouillan is the village that nath and christel and gustav and nina live in. population, about 100. you can see the pyrenees mountains in the distance, all snow capped and tickling the clouds. rolling agricultural lands ebb and flow down valley and up ridges as far as the eye can see. temperatures were a welcoming 8-13 degrees, feeling like spring after 2 weeks of zero degree shock.
these mountains are quite amazing - i kept doing a double take, you almost miss them, and then: kapow! they honestly look unreal. photos don't do them justice i'm afraid! (though your photo is very good kent.)
our lovely host, nathan, enjoying a George Clooney by his front gate.
his apparent state of confusion lifted the instant the caffeine fired its way into his cerebellum.
le maison de gross - the house of the gross family.
a seriously kick ass villa. around 200 years old.
ok, so across the road, framed within the gates of the neighbour's yard - KAPOW!
iced capped peaks of the pyrenees.
awesome.
oh - and this is a better image of the pyrenees.
this is from the town where the kids go to school, aragnac.
killer.
the very congenial and hospitable nathan, with the lovely and joyous wife, roaming the streets of toulouse. toulouse is about 40 mins drive away, the 4th largest city in france and a typical web of cobblestone streets. much of the building is in a pinkish, terracotta colour, which gives the town a distinctive rosy hue.
oh. my. god.
ok, these idiots take the award for the lamest buskers so far.
there's some pretty terrible buskers in europe, seriously terrible. in summer there's a thousand knobs dressed up like statues, just standing there, doing jack shit. one time, i saw a guy dressed as dracula in a coffin. when you got close you could hear him snoring.
talk about a lazy fucking job.
anyway, these numbskulls threw sheets over their heads and clapped their ridiculous little dragon/dinosaur heads non-stop, back and forth, to the tinny beats on their stereo.
truly horrible.
lucy dared me to sneak up behind and kick them - i wish i had the balls, really i do.
i actually NEVER told kent to kick the 'performers.' (maybe to push them over?)
i really love europe. it's got some kick ass shit.
much culture. much architectural joy. much historical reverence.
but, for a democratic republican type from the antipodes, there's way too much religious-based fawning, way too much monarchical worship.
most of it is historical, thankfully, but still. a thousand dukes riding a thousand bronze horses on a thousand marble plinths is boring. those dicks mostly just stole from the poor and war-mongered themselves all over the place.
screw them.
this pic above, however, is the perfect antidote.
one of the most brilliant things about the whole samouillan experience was getting to hang out with nath's kids. gustav is my godson, so that was some important quality time to lay down. he kicked my butt at poker, time and time again. which was not so much fun for the ego, coz he's 8.
anyway, we drew lots, played games - together with his sister nina - and had much cool times.
we played lego once, and i was the bad guys (of course) and i had two drones, named simon and bob. that was cool as. i made voices and tried to catch yoda by pretending to be a cute girl with some luscious sandwiches, so as to lure him from his hiding place behind the couch.
in the end, i cried coz my throat was rasped by my weird british accents.
quotes such as: "yodaaaaaah? would you like a sandwich?" "oh no Simon, it's too late for meeeeeeeee!" "oh gawd man!" "this sandwich really is very good."
but, nonetheless, golden times.
the image above is from a game of exquisite corpse, this time with nina.
we drew some seriously genius art. i should exhibit some of them.
seriously.
genius.
oh - so i better elucidate on the george clooney thing.
well, nath and christel have a lovely coffee machine that makes some pretty good coffee.
it's one of the instant thingy-majiggies but it does crank out some decent coffee.
anyway, the coffee sachets that go into it are made by nescafe. there's this really huge marketing campaign, featuring george clooney, who promotes the product.
every so often, nath has to go into toulouse to buy supplies and he HATES it. it is a super commercial product, with some pretty hardcore marketing going into it.
at the shop, in town, you are greeted by 2 doormen in suits... yep... TWO!
inside, you have a queue of people, lined up, all anxious to get their selection of beautifully packaged, metallic coloured sachets. really, it is a marvellous sight.
you get a free espresso, in store, in the vip section. with a nespresso branded biscotti. was seriously the best part of going into the city. nathan looking all embarrassed and cringy, while kent and i stand with him in the line, cacking ourselves.
no joke.
then you take your highly branded bag out of the shop, to advertise to the world that you are a nespresso groupie.
fun times. fun times.
i had to carry the bag coz nath doesn't like to be seen to be a corporate whore.
kent loved it.
but clearly, he's a bitch.
love ya nath.
i love you george.
yes, uncivilised as it is, hanging out with your high school buddy brings back the adolescent humour in an instant wave of nostalgia and 'pull my finger' giggling stupidity.
here, we're supposed to be doing some product marketing for christel's shop, photographing some new pendants she is introducing. but really, we're just reverting to childhood.I'd like to point out that Christel specifically said "I want you to make it look like a girly tea-party" - so naturally the guys get out the storm trooper lego.
most hilarious moment:
concocting a 'gary ribald' drink (one beer, one sugar, one espresso all in one glass) only to have it froth up at an alarming rate, so nath and i dive into our glasses to drink it up, only i laugh too quickly, blowing caffeine coloured beer froth all over the kitchen walls, and, most hilariously, all over nath's face, clothes and beanie. he had beer froth in his eyebrows for about an hour.
major cackfest.
increasingly delirious giggling ensued shortly after we had settled back down to resume our consumption of the wonder beverage and nath pulled the exact same feat, only this time blowing the froth back on his own face.
genius.
no pics for that sequence i'm afraid. video footage would no doubt have found its way on to youtube by now if only we had some!
outside of boyish giggling fits and reminiscences, samouillan was a lovely experience. samouillan is the village that nath and christel and gustav and nina live in. population, about 100. you can see the pyrenees mountains in the distance, all snow capped and tickling the clouds. rolling agricultural lands ebb and flow down valley and up ridges as far as the eye can see. temperatures were a welcoming 8-13 degrees, feeling like spring after 2 weeks of zero degree shock.
these mountains are quite amazing - i kept doing a double take, you almost miss them, and then: kapow! they honestly look unreal. photos don't do them justice i'm afraid! (though your photo is very good kent.)
our lovely host, nathan, enjoying a George Clooney by his front gate.his apparent state of confusion lifted the instant the caffeine fired its way into his cerebellum.
le maison de gross - the house of the gross family.a seriously kick ass villa. around 200 years old.
ok, so across the road, framed within the gates of the neighbour's yard - KAPOW!iced capped peaks of the pyrenees.
awesome.
oh - and this is a better image of the pyrenees.this is from the town where the kids go to school, aragnac.
killer.
the very congenial and hospitable nathan, with the lovely and joyous wife, roaming the streets of toulouse. toulouse is about 40 mins drive away, the 4th largest city in france and a typical web of cobblestone streets. much of the building is in a pinkish, terracotta colour, which gives the town a distinctive rosy hue.
oh. my. god.ok, these idiots take the award for the lamest buskers so far.
there's some pretty terrible buskers in europe, seriously terrible. in summer there's a thousand knobs dressed up like statues, just standing there, doing jack shit. one time, i saw a guy dressed as dracula in a coffin. when you got close you could hear him snoring.
talk about a lazy fucking job.
anyway, these numbskulls threw sheets over their heads and clapped their ridiculous little dragon/dinosaur heads non-stop, back and forth, to the tinny beats on their stereo.
truly horrible.
lucy dared me to sneak up behind and kick them - i wish i had the balls, really i do.
i actually NEVER told kent to kick the 'performers.' (maybe to push them over?)
i really love europe. it's got some kick ass shit.much culture. much architectural joy. much historical reverence.
but, for a democratic republican type from the antipodes, there's way too much religious-based fawning, way too much monarchical worship.
most of it is historical, thankfully, but still. a thousand dukes riding a thousand bronze horses on a thousand marble plinths is boring. those dicks mostly just stole from the poor and war-mongered themselves all over the place.
screw them.
this pic above, however, is the perfect antidote.
one of the most brilliant things about the whole samouillan experience was getting to hang out with nath's kids. gustav is my godson, so that was some important quality time to lay down. he kicked my butt at poker, time and time again. which was not so much fun for the ego, coz he's 8.anyway, we drew lots, played games - together with his sister nina - and had much cool times.
we played lego once, and i was the bad guys (of course) and i had two drones, named simon and bob. that was cool as. i made voices and tried to catch yoda by pretending to be a cute girl with some luscious sandwiches, so as to lure him from his hiding place behind the couch.
in the end, i cried coz my throat was rasped by my weird british accents.
quotes such as: "yodaaaaaah? would you like a sandwich?" "oh no Simon, it's too late for meeeeeeeee!" "oh gawd man!" "this sandwich really is very good."
but, nonetheless, golden times.
the image above is from a game of exquisite corpse, this time with nina.
we drew some seriously genius art. i should exhibit some of them.
seriously.
genius.
oh - so i better elucidate on the george clooney thing.
well, nath and christel have a lovely coffee machine that makes some pretty good coffee.
it's one of the instant thingy-majiggies but it does crank out some decent coffee.
anyway, the coffee sachets that go into it are made by nescafe. there's this really huge marketing campaign, featuring george clooney, who promotes the product.
every so often, nath has to go into toulouse to buy supplies and he HATES it. it is a super commercial product, with some pretty hardcore marketing going into it.
at the shop, in town, you are greeted by 2 doormen in suits... yep... TWO!
inside, you have a queue of people, lined up, all anxious to get their selection of beautifully packaged, metallic coloured sachets. really, it is a marvellous sight.
you get a free espresso, in store, in the vip section. with a nespresso branded biscotti. was seriously the best part of going into the city. nathan looking all embarrassed and cringy, while kent and i stand with him in the line, cacking ourselves.
no joke.
then you take your highly branded bag out of the shop, to advertise to the world that you are a nespresso groupie.
fun times. fun times.
i had to carry the bag coz nath doesn't like to be seen to be a corporate whore.
kent loved it.
but clearly, he's a bitch.
love ya nath.
i love you george.
oh my god i love george clooney.
ReplyDeleteactually, george came past. we sat done and had a clooney (man, that sounds wrong), talked about bacon (beer-can), and reminisced about that gary ribald incident. he promised i could turn the bag inside out next time i had to go get some pods, and that in any case he would be there to greet me in double, well, in life size cardboard cutout at least... (a correct ellipsis Luce?).
ReplyDeletebut anyway i think i'm finally off the branded junk. my last two coffees were non-clooned.
toodle-oo!
(oh, and george said to say hi.)