a Christmas in winter

The French sure do know how to eat well... or perhaps indulgently is a better word. I spent Christmas Eve surrounded by the comfort of relatives, wine, champagne, digestives, oysters, prawns, goose livers, castrated roosters...

Christmas day consisted of sleeping and, well, more sleeping. My auntie was a little surprised when I skipped breakfast. This surprise turned into worry when I skipped lunch as well. By dinner time, I thought that I'd save her any more panic and feigned an appetite, though the sight of another plate of rich, buttery goose livers was almost enough to turn me off food for good.

Fortunately, this excess seems to have steeled my stomach to an even greater degree than most Parisians. I joined my uncle, auntie, my auntie's father and one of her friends at "La Fontaine", my uncle's European country getaway. Whilst there, we ate pig intestines (excuse my rough translation) amongst other things. Despite having a rather hefty helping of this strong flavoured meat, I managed to pull up without any ill effects. My uncle and auntie weren't quite so lucky.

One particularly good thing about staying with relatives is that they usually have a few more facilities than youth hostels. I've managed to upload all of my photos onto their computer, so will try sticking a few of them onto this blog before too long.