So the last two nights in Paris with Aunty Joyce were all about “the tower”. On the third night together we’d planned a boat cruise on the Seine so that we could see it up close and personal, waterside. Romain and I did some serious reconnaissance of the area surrounding the Bateaux Les Vedettes du Pont-Neuf in the afternoon. It was not possible to get the stairs down from the Henri IV statue on the Pont Neuf with a wheelchair but we found out it was possible to come down a road closer to the Palais de Justice and then walk along the Seine and into the entrance of the Vedettes. However, as fate would have it, the skies opened up just at the time we were all to meet at the statue. It was quite the storm and it sent our plans into a spin. We decided to take shelter in Place Dauphine, just opposite the Henri IV statue, in a tiny Basque restaurant. We had only intended to have an apéro, hoping that the rain would ease. But the rain didn’t seem to be easing and although we had the only available table outside under the awning, getting splashed every now and then by the rain, we thought it best to stay put for the time being and have dinner  -  and we are so glad we did.  All the staff were very accomodating and the food was fabulous. For entree Romain and I shared a camembert chaud cuit au vin blanc which was so incredibly delicious, it was the perfect dish to ease the wet weather blues. For the main I chose a Basque dish called Piquillos à la Luzienne which was stuffed small red peppers with brandade and tomato -miam miam. But then I tried Aunty Joyce’s dish which was rissotto aux deux jambons and seriously, it was utter perfection. And then the desserts! oh la la – the panna cotta was the knock out although all the desserts we chose were really, really good. Here is a little peek at the menu board, although you probably can’t read it since the writing is quite small, you can hopefully get a bit of the ambiance of the night…

With the rain continuing to fall, and the food at ma salle à manger being so delicious, we decided that it really wasn’t the night to be out on a boat on the Seine. So we postponed the boat trip for the next evening, and just relaxed a while at the restaurant…

Just before we headed home I wanted to show Aunty Joyce the eiffel tower from the pont neuf. Luckily the rain had subsided for a moment and we were able to settle in one of the little nooks on the bridge and see the tower in all its glory. I didn’t tell Aunty Joyce about the sparkles we were about to see, I just wanted her to see them for herself. And then, right on cue at 11pm, the tower lit up like a twinkling diamond, Joyce was ecstatic and could not get over how beautiful it looked. She described it as a dancing lady, dancing for Paris…

What a way to end the day! It was at that point that Joyce really knew her dream was well and truly a reality – there was now no denying she was in Paris, standing on the Pont Neuf, seeing the Eiffel Tower for the first time in her life. There were some tears of joy shed, followed by some quiet moments of reflection, followed by laughter and smiles. It was a magical moment.

The sun came back out the next day, and our plan to take the boat cruise that evening was all a-go.

me and joyce, walking along the Seine.

We took the cobblestoned road that leads down along the Seine toward the boat mooring rather slowly. It was a bumpy ride, but it was perfect timing as the sun was setting and the breathtaking scenery took our minds off the cobblestones, check out the view we had…

Wow! It was a glorious sunset, it could not have been more perfect. When we hopped on the boat, the sun began to dip further and as we cruised along the Seine the sky went from pink, to deep blue, to black…

This was the first time Romain and I had ever taken one of these cruises and again, it was something we’d been curious about for some time.  The cruise itself wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for – everyone on the boat was quite loud, and the student commentator who spoke in English and French was doing a great job except that we couldn’t hear her over all the people talking. It would have been better to sit downstairs in the front where there was no one else, and then we could have just taken in the scenery. One thing I did really like about the boat ride though was going under all the bridges. I had no idea that each bridge was built so uniquely  – I was fascinated with the exposed architecture underneath each bridge – there were bridges made from brick,  stone,  wood, and iron and although I knew this from walking along them all so many times, I loved seeing underneath each one. From that angle they were just as beautiful if not more so, than the ornate architectural features above. I wasn’t able to take any photos of the underneath because it was too dark, but that just means you will have to take a boat ride in Paris so you can see for yourself! Which is no doubt the favoured option really…

And that concluded our time in Paris together. It was a really big effort for Joyce to make it to this amazing city from across the other side of the world, after so many years of wanting, and wishing, she made it, and I am so very proud of her. In the book I made for her, I wrote a fun little message for her that went a little something like this…

…I left lots of pages so that she could add more photos and mementos, and I suggested that she could ask new friends and people they meet along the way to write a little something in the book. In the next post I will tell you more about ‘the making of’ the book, and also share some of the things that Romain and I explored this time ’round in Paris – it just goes to show you that no matter how long you’ve lived in the city of lights, or how many times you’ve visited, there are always layers to unravel.

This post concludes my “joyce in paris” series, I hope you’ve enjoyed this special series of posts. How wonderful it is to me to now know that Aunty Joyce will no longer be saying “I wish one day I could travel to Paris”. Instead she can say, “been there, done THAT” at the ripe young age of 90.

xx

This one’s for you, joyce.

Once upon a time there was a little girl who heard about a beautiful, enchanting city in a land far far away where people wore berets, ate something called ‘baguette’, and spoke what she immediately decided must be one of the prettiest languages in the world. She learnt about all the ancient stone buildings that stood tall and magnificent along the long, winding river that ran through the middle of the city, and she listened to songs sung in this pretty language. The little girl fell in love with the idea of this magical city, and consequently spent many hours, days, months, and years dreaming about what it might be like to wander its cobblestones streets. Time went by and life went on but still, the idea of this city and the country it was a part of remained in her heart and in her dreams.

That was over 80 years ago, some time around 1930. As we all know too well, life goes on and dreams get put on shelves. For this little girl, wars came and went, lovers stole her heart, children were born, then grandchildren, and then great grandchildren, her body became more fragile but still, she never forgot about her dream and she never lost hope that one day she might see this beautiful city in person – she always dusted the shelf where her dream lay waiting for her.

Today, that little girl is 90 years old. Her name is Joyce and she is my beloved great aunt who, when I was a little girl, taught me how important it was to dream and how important it was to keep dreams alive. When I visited her back home in Sydney this past January, she told me that this year she was determined to get to Paris, the city of her dreams. I told her, “If you go, no matter where I am in the world or what I’m doing, I will be there with you – I will not miss it for the world.”

Yesterday was the day her dream came true.

Together with her daughter Kathy, myself and Romain, the four of us strolled through the jardin des plantes, took in the view of the notre dame along pont sully, had lunch at café Louis-Philipe, wandered along the surrounding streets all the while taking in the sights and scenery. She can’t quite believe it is happening, and I am beyond ecstatic to be here with her and show her some of the Paris that I have come to know and love.  This afternoon we plan to go to Montmatre to see the Sacre Coeur and have an aperitif in a little bar somewhere along the way. It’s not an easy feat with a wheelchair in tow, but so far we have managed. Countless times Aunty Joyce said to me yesterday, “Why has it taken me so long to get here?” and I said, “It doesn’t matter, you are here now, and it just goes to show you, dreams can come true” and she added “yes, and age is just a word”.

I’ll be back to show you some photos of our adventure in Paris some time next week, for now, let’s linger on the realisation that it is never too late to dust off your dreams and fly with them.  Bonne journee mes amis.

xx

a collection of some of my favourite photos from Amsterdam: Made by Hand.

Good morning mes rayons de soleil, I hope you each had a glorious weekend. If it wasn’t so glorious, then perhaps there was something special that lit up your heart at some point, some way, even just for a little moment. I worked for 36 hours straight, with a  few pit stops in between. The highlight of my weekend was a wonderful dinner on Friday night hosted by some new friends at their gorgeous apartment, north side. And then a wander along the Amstel with french boy yesterday afternoon to get some fresh air. Everyone who was anyone it seems, was out on their little boats, zipping about the canals – drinking, laughing, being generally merry  -  it was lovely to watch.

I have another busy week ahead of me although I plan to post about one particular adventure that I will be embarking on mid week. Until then, I’ll just pop in and out of the (blog)house as usual. Oh yes, and I have two bits of news for the moment: one is that dear Cath shared some more glorious photos with you in the guest quarters on Friday, click here to see where she takes us this time.

another collection from Amsterdam: Made by Hand.

And my second bit of news is that on Thursday last week, I spontaneously decided to activate my twitter account. I know, can you believe it?  I said some time ago that I would never ever twitter, but I don’t know, something just sparked inside me on that day during my tea break, it just felt right all of a sudden. So in I plunged and boy, was it fun to be welcomed into the twitter world by fellow bloggers – it’s like a whole other universe over there. The aftermath is that I must admit, I’m having some sort of reservations  about the plunge because I can see it does tend to suck the life out of you and since I’m struggling to maintain status quo as it is, perhaps it’s not the best thing for me right now. But lovely Susannah assured me this morning that I’ll find my comfy spot soon, so I’m going to take her advice and give it some time. So, if you are a twitterer and feel like following my tweets, then here is my twitter link - hope to see you there.

xx

Some of you may have noticed that a few months ago I added a little sparkly widget at the bottom of my (blog)house sidebar, with the words “guitar” “tone”  “overload”.  And then some of you may have then thought, “wtf?” because you would know that my blog has nothing to do with guitars, or tones… although there is plenty of overload to be had.

Well, now I have a moment to tell you all about it! At the beginning of this year, my partner Romain – who you’ve all come to know here as french boy – launched his very own blog. It’s called, obviously,  guitar tone overload and it focuses on his “endless quest for The Guitar Tone” using effects, amps, and all sorts of other guitar equipment (that I have no idea about but he knows lots about). Last year when he first told me he wanted to start a blog, I asked him, “if you start a blog, what are your expectations?” and he said , “as a musician,  I’ve taken so much information from the internet over the last 15 years that now I’d like to give back”.  I thought that was pretty much the perfect answer…

this is a corner of our houseboat, filled with guitars and guitar stuff.

So at the end of February he launched his blog in both English and French. I love that he focuses on boutique equipment (that being, pedals and such that are made in small factories or by hand) and that he explores the guitar tones of various famous guitarists  – so far he’s featured Robert Smith from The Cure, Jeff Beck, Joe Satriani and just last week, John Butler. He not only writes about what each guitarist uses, but he also makes demo videos to show his readers how to get ‘the tone’ with certain equipment. It’s pretty clever stuff.

While researching for guitar tone overload the other day, Romain came across a video of legendary guitarist David Gilmour’s houseboat/music studio located on the Thames.  It is the most awesome floating musical space, and I just wanted to share it here, for those of you out there who love the idea of houseboat living, and those who love making music like we do. It is a clip from the BBC series three men in a boat, check it out…

Can you imagine? So very cool. For us, this would be the ultimate houseboat. Our little houseboat doesn’t have nearly as much music gear as David Gilmour’s, but it still manages to rock out when the mood strikes.

Anyway, I just wanted to say a big congratulations to french boy for getting out there in the blogosphere and creating such a great space for guitarists. Please pass on his blog to your guitarist friends. Merci!

xx

…little treasures at dusk, in my garden…

I still cannot believe my luck in being reunited with my bike! I have never heard of anyone finding their bike here after it’s been stolen, it’s some sort of miracle.  I would really love to know what happened,  if only my beautiful rusty bike could talk. Today I took it for a little ride around the neighbourhood, it was like we were never apart. I will be sure to buy it some flowers, or a new light, or something, just so it knows how much I love it so.

Aside from my bike being stolen and found, life for me so far this summer has been full. on.  With the Amsterdam: Made by Hand book release and my current book deadline all happening at the same time, it’s been ‘nose to the grindstone’ all the way. Last week I thought I was going to explode so I went for a jog to see if i could release some of the tension. I lasted about 30 seconds before I started hyperventilating. The next day my shins were crying out in pain. I’ve never been a jogger but you know it was one of those things where other people make it look so easy and enjoyable. It’s like high heel shoes – every few years or so I get seduced by some fabulously leggy woman strolling past me in heels and I think “wow, I really must get my heels out and wear them like this!”, to which I do and then after about 25 minutes my lower back screams out in agony.

One thing that has kept me in good stead though while I’ve been so frantic this past month (beside french boy, of course), is my kitchen garden. It has been wonderfully therapeutic – when I have a tea break I check the plants to see how they’re going, give them some water, make sure they are healthy. Some of them have been transplanted into bigger pots on the front deck of the boat – while inside I have basil, thyme, parsley, and rosemary, outside there are strawberries and lavender, and I even managed to grow lemongrass from a dried up piece of stalk I bought at the chinese supermarket! Gardening truly is so great for the soul…

And lilies – my dear friend Zoë planted some beautiful lilies in my garden last summer while we were prepping the boat for a Finnish tv crew who came to visit (I know, I still haven’t had a chance to tell you about that!). I thought the lilies would not last through the winter so I was stunned a couple of months ago when I saw them popping up and reaching for the sun! They are truly stunning…

So what else can I catch you up on? As you know Amsterdam: Made by Hand is now well and truly out there in the big wide world.  I want to thank everyone who has blogged about it since its launch, and those of you who have told your friends, colleagues, family and local independent bookstores about my work -  I really cannot tell you enough how much your support means to me, and how incredible your blog posts and conversations about my work have helped spread the word  – you guys are the ones who enable me to keep doing what I love.  thank you.

On my to-do list is to make a special blog page for Amsterdam: Made by Hand like I have for Paris: Made by Hand. I will create a list of all the lovely shops that are selling the book around the world so if you’ve seen the book somewhere, please let me know and I’ll include that store in my list. And the same goes for reviews and features in magazines and blogs – if you’ve seen one let me know so I can be sure to include them on the page.

Also on my to-do list is to update my online portfolio, it’s in desperate need of attention. I may have the oldest, most out-of-date portfolio on the planet by now. Oh well, it’s impossible to get to everything at once and right now I am devoting all my attention to you know what. Mes amis, I am so incredibly excited about what is transpiring, it is turning into an exquisite book and I am bursting at the seams to share it with you. All in good time.

Well, that’s pretty much my catch up post! Hope you are all having a fab summer and for the southern hemispherians, a fab winter. I have another ‘catch up’ style post coming tomorrow, so stay tuned for that one.

xx

Yesterday, while watering the plants and cleaning the outside of the boat, I glanced out to the disarray of bikes that line the street and realised with a heavy heart that mine was no longer among them. For the first time since moving to Amsterdam almost 3 years ago, my bike has been stolen.  Last night I was frantically trying to remember the very last moments I had with my two-wheeled friend, it seemed vital that I recall these very last moments  – I wanted to make sure we parted on good terms.

Even though I always knew our time together would probably be limited since having your bike stolen is just a part of life in Amsterdam, I’m still sad. For Amsterdammers, our bikes are like best friends – they go everywhere with us, they are there at scary moments, and there at happy moments. They take us to new exciting places we never knew existed. They wait for us, carry things for us, ride through snow & rain,  and get us around the myriad of biking tourists.

My dear bicycle was beautiful to me – old and rusty, but full of spark.  And it was only Friday, after getting lost with it through the back streets of a new-to-me area of the city that I thought about how truly lucky I have been to have such a fab bike.

Now, I will always be looking out for it, hoping that it has embarked on another exciting adventure, albeit in the hands of another. Of course if I do happen to see it again, I won’t hesitate to take it right back. And yes, I am a bit pissed about it, but no one – especially me – knows why humans do what they do.

Goodbye my dear two-wheeled friend, I miss you.

………………………………………

update: guys you are not going to BELIEVE this! French Boy just went for a walk and came back with my bike!!!!!! I am beyond ecstatic. He found it hiding behind an electrical box at the end of the road/canal. It seems someone stole it but decided it wasn’t worth it! Woohooooo!!! I love my bike even more now, what a true treasure! This is a serious cause for celebration. Thank you for all your commiserations, but let us be sad no more!

………………………………………

…at the dining table.

…at the kitchen sink.

…in a petit corner of our kitchen garden.

…by the window (these were a wonderful gift from a friend, to remind me to breathe during times of sheer exhaustion…like right now).

…standing at the dining table.

Well, I’m exhausted. I haven’t had a weekend since I don’t remember when and my nights sleep are short and erratic. When French Boy and I go to bed I can’t help but say “didn’t we just get out of bed like, 10 minutes ago?” when we eat dinner I say, “but didn’t we have breakfast just a moment ago?”. He laughs. I’m glad he thinks it’s funny! Anyway, I knew this month would be a big one to get through. I feel like Thomas the Tank Engine getting up the hill, be it the month of June “I think I can I think I can I know I can I know I can…”

Often people tell me they like to read my blog so they can live vicariously through me. (Apparently my goings-on are enviable?!! It’s time to dispel the myth!) But today, I’d like to hear what you are planning to do for the weekend so I can live vicariously through you. Please, indulge me…

xx