Once upon a time in France - from the Lost Blog

Hello autumn! I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t have a favourite season… that I was over always looking to the next thing. But here we are in October and the sycamores are spiralling down from the trees, the oaks are dropping their acorns and the leaves are showing off their finest colours. The temperatures have significantly dropped in Cornwall these last few weeks after an astonishing mini heatwave (I’m looking at you, Climate change!) and suddenly I can’t go out without thick knitted socks, my old boots, a scarf and a big jumper. I’m not sorry – because I’ve already made my first homemade mulled hot apple of the season and it was everything I’d hoped and dreamed. You can bet I’ve had a dirty chai or two, I’ve savoured the crispy leaves and I spend most evenings staring at those autumn inky skies and magical moons that only October can possibly bring. Every season is my favourite season. But it’s kind of autumn.

Anyway. The other week we went on a spontaneous trip to Paris. I should probably be a bit more of a planner, what with having a freelance job and baby and all that but I had a gap in my diary, a friend offered us a place to stay and the lure of photography projects, delicious french bread and castles and well you know, that’s not an offer I can easily refuse. So off we went, baby and all to the city of romance (or just outside it!) and what a sweet week it was.

Don’t let my whimsy lure you into any falsehood that travelling with a baby is easy. It’s not. We’re just very determined is all. I mean, I could take the easy path and just never leave the house and let her romp around the front room to her hearts content with ‘Hey Duggee’ on the television with no worry of scheduling the time for her naps or having access to the five hundred varieties of food she might want to sample for lunch before deciding on one but A) where is the fun in that and B) boooooooo. She screamed all through the plane journey and rotated in her seat like the little rotato she is and she honked and honked some more and quite frankly we were very embarrassed and wanted to cry and when the plane was delayed in taxi and we were stuck on the runway for an hour I had serious doubts about getting us into yet another of my severely under-planned and doomed escapades. I’ve also been carrying this weird curse all summer that’s been giving me horrendous bad luck (two cars have crashed into me, I injured myself at a wedding and broke two expensive lenses and damaged a very expensive camera, have been ill a lot, family drama which kinda broke my heart and made me quite depressed all summer trying to process it plus a bunch of petty stuff I’ve forgotten already.) Travelling abroad with a curse isn’t advisable and don’t tell me to take a salt bath because we only have a shower in our house.

We arrived in Paris at last with what was left of our wits and our friend brought us back to their family home which was only right opposite a fairytale castle. Casual. Actually, the house was incredible. The family had lovingly restored it and were artists with a beautiful atelier in their garden where they painted. The dream! They also had two parrots which went everywhere with them and were so sweet, (well Lara was, Elliot was more cheeky and devious and a notorious bread stealer) and we spent a very relaxing few days drifting about the beautiful town of Pierrefonds, spying chateaux and other fancy buildings, eating bread and pastries and visiting the Forest of Compiegne for a sunset stroll with our friends.

We caught the train into Paris one afternoon but only had a few hours. We had intended to visit the Natural history museum but the queue was crazy so instead we ran about the insanely beautiful botanical gardens next to the museum in the rain and marvelling at the raindrops on the leaves of the most perfect roses I’ve ever seen. It was such a dreamy garden, I could have spent much longer there but we had about 3 hours and I have been to Paris before whereas Jon hasn’t so there were things I needed to show him on his mini tour.

Paris in the rain is lovely. Soggy feet aren’t, but it felt like living in a painting when you’re strolling down an autumnal avenue of orange trees with people strolling along huddled under umbrellas. I’ve actually never seen Paris in the rain and I’m so glad it did rain on our visit because it was a surreal and very pretty experience. We’re hoping to come back next year and Camille (my friend) and I have big plans of going on an art Nouveau pilgrimage and making art and work inspired by these little pockets of architecture and beauty within the city.

I think the best memories were made in the small and insignificant moments; The views from the window, sitting by the lake and watching the light on the lily pads, eating outdoors with everyone with the most delicious vegetables grown on their veg patch and playing on the swing with Lyra in their garden. There was also the beautiful Chateau de Compiegne which we visited with Camille. The place was empty and we had it all but to ourselves and she gave us the artists tour and my goodness, it was beautiful. From the architecture, it felt like I was back in Bath and it was bizarre to think I was strolling along the hallways of Napolean’s house. I learned some very hilarious facts from Camille about the royal family and how the court had to be in the king’s presence at all times. They had to watch him poop and get it on with his queen and well, I know every little girl wants to be a princess but no thanks  I mean, unless you’re into voyeurism that just sounds like the worst job in the world.

The trip back to England on the plane was much smoother and Lyra was much better behaved. That was until we realised the iPad had been stolen or lost at the airport. I mean, we couldn’t possibly go on holiday without the curse rearing its ugly head, right?

Curse or no curse, it was a much needed break and quality time with my family. It’s hard to put down freelance life. When you run your own business, there’s always work to do and the guilt, oh the guilt, from not doing said work at any moment of the day. I’m still working on the over-working bad habits so a spontaneous trip away is sometimes just what you need to shake off the cobwebs. There’s got to be some perks to being freelance after all.

We’re well advanced into October now and it’s worrying me how fast this autumn has gone compared to last year where it lingered and dilly-dallied forever and some more. It’s rained oh so much which has yielded some magnificent sunrises and views over the mount towards Cudden point and meant that we’ve had to get more creative with our ventures outdoors and we’ve had a lot of evenings eating dinner on our laps in the car watching the waves crashing, collecting wet acorns and leaves for little photo projects and taking refuge in National Trust cafes having catch ups with friends. Lyra’s cutting her third tooth so it’s not been the easiest and sometimes the rain is so strong it wakes us in the night by thundering down on our attic window but it’s hard not to love the cosiness that this time of year brings. Looking at these photos of early autumn when the temperatures were mild and the sun was bright it almost feels like a tiny bubble, a wishful dream or a far flung memory. I’m relishing these darker months though, I welcome the flicker of candles, snuggling in thick blankets (as I write this I’m wrapped up like an old lady in a shawl) and the storms that throw up seaweed and sand onto the promenade in our town. Lyra is nearly one and we’re trying to plan her birthday. It’s been simultaneously the longest and fastest year of my life and now she’s standing unaided, pushing her toddle truck around, poking her tongue out at us and climbing like a pro. I’m not sure where my tiny baby has gone, instead I have this ‘almost-child’ who is loud and vibrant and oh so sassy. Jon wished for a powerful daughter and we got our monkey paw wish 

The first time Lyra ever stood up by herself