Burning Breizh (or: What I Did on my Holidays)

Bonjour! Alors. Nescafe. Deux bollees du cidre, s’il vous plait….

You know, I did French A-level. I had to sit and talk to an examiner about French immigration policies, and how they were affecting the social make-up of the Parisian suburbs. And about windsurfing (I know, alright? I freaked out and that was the first sport that came to mind). But that was *cough* a few years ago, and my French these days is shocking. Not something I’m proud of.

So, as you might have guessed, I’ve been on holiday, to Brittany in France. I’ve spent a lot of time there over the years, and I love it there.

We went rock-pooling, we sat on the beach in the sunshine, we ate (dear god, did we eat…) and even managed to get in a few books: specifically, these books:

Last Call – Tim Powers

Vegas Knights – Matt Forbeck

The Hunger Games – Suzanne Collins

Hell Fire – Anne Aguirre

Torment – Lauren Kate

The Hunger Games impressed me hugely – I’ve flipped through it a couple of times before now, but this time I sat down and really read it, and it didn’t disappoint. The others were a mixed bag, with one exception: “Last Call“. This. Was. Awesome. Hard work, but genuinely brilliant. Poker and tarot and body-switching and the Fisher King and…. and….

I’m sorry, but that sound was my mind blowing. Put it this way: walking across the campsite where we were staying, I found a playing card on the ground (the nine of spades, if you’re interested) and decided to give it a very wide berth. Likewise, I’ve come home and am having to fight the urge to punch pin-holes in all my tarot cards before putting them in a sturdy box on a very high shelf. Possibly in a house down the street. If you’ve read it, you’ll understand. If you haven’t, I can’t possibly even start to explain. Just read it. And then I won’t be shuddering all on my own every time someone says “It’s all yours.”

So what else did I do on my holiday, other than eat?

I saw some angels, and a decidedly solid door:


Accidentally froze a bottle of beer (isn’t that the same as, you know, ice-filtering it or something?):

And went to a seriously big bonfire:

And then, of course, there was Small Boy’s “holiday song“, which was easily the most-played track on the ipod in the car.

Not bad, for just over a week. Just imagine what I could’ve done with two. Still, there’s always next year.

(And just think: I haven’t even told you about the shoes yet…)

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