tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81200712024-03-07T09:10:10.237+01:00my hideawayAnalysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.comBlogger331125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-84326940271696782062011-01-29T14:57:00.005+01:002011-01-29T15:53:45.290+01:00Holidaying at Fuerteventura<center><div style="text-align: left; width: 450px;"><object id="myWidget" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.blurb.com/assets/embed.swf?book_id=1932280&token_id=1451106&token=b628c6ec2ea75a7184c1ed4983ac4a9d&token_id=1451106&token=b628c6ec2ea75a7184c1ed4983ac4a9d" width="450" height="300"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://www.blurb.com/assets/embed.swf?book_id=1932280&token_id=1451106&token=b628c6ec2ea75a7184c1ed4983ac4a9d&token_id=1451106&token=b628c6ec2ea75a7184c1ed4983ac4a9d"><a target="_new" href="http://fr.blurb.com/books/preview/1932280?ce=blurb_ew&utm_source=widget"><img src="http://bookshow.blurb.com/bookshow/cache/P2665950/md/wcover_2.png" /></a></object><div style="display: block;"></div></div></center><br />.. was fab! The weather was perfect. The nightlife was great. Nature was a-bounty. What more could we ask for?<br /><br />It was a deal. I told L that we try to save for Christmas gifts which pile up in closets and drawers and generally left unused. With the gift money, we could probably offer ourselves a Christmas getaway and escape from the cold weather. Not to my surprise, L agreed at once.<br /><br />From there, I've checked for travel deals which are not far from France, with day temperature >20°C, leaving preferably from Nantes (to be close to L's family) and destinations that won't require me any visa. Fuerteventura responded to all categories so off we went just after the Christmas eve.<br /><br />Fuerteventura was just 3.5 hour-plane ride away from Nantes. We left at 2 pm and arrived there around 5pm (one hour difference from France). Our hotel, situated at Corralejo was just 45-min taxi-ride from the airport.<br /><br />We started our first night barhopping with the kids (it was the night of December 25th afterall!). Yes, with the kids! Bars were all around town and like almost every country in Europe, smoking inside public areas were prohibited (or was it because the crowd was mostly from countries where smoking inside bars were prohibited?). You could count the number of strollers going in and out of bars! Amazing! The crowd was of course multinational - but the majority were from north of Europe. Live bands were setting an upbeat ambiance and the girls were dancing even after bedtime. In fact, barhopping became our nightly routine in Fuerteventura ;). Cervesa San Miguel Bar became our favorite!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SQ6ZmWO4QVlsCRQMsV6FQQ-7jGWy51gNqa12kQhm6bDmy452q3IJYr59Tx0unUJGhte-l_ui1CUjitpHqZAb6s0MzpHBYcVr2EqlF_77DmD-RDjt76NORoqoZga8olHS4fEY/s1600/IMG_3989+copy.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SQ6ZmWO4QVlsCRQMsV6FQQ-7jGWy51gNqa12kQhm6bDmy452q3IJYr59Tx0unUJGhte-l_ui1CUjitpHqZAb6s0MzpHBYcVr2EqlF_77DmD-RDjt76NORoqoZga8olHS4fEY/s400/IMG_3989+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567617702725426466" border="0" /></a>Beaches of course was our favorite daytime destination. The girls busied themselves building sand castles while the parents busied themselves sunbathing and reading. It was a relaxing retreat from the busy daily routine we have in Dijon.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW9jz4BlZd8lWCrxxmfU2_0eLcVrCmJg7MiP0hlFLg-uAZS3oTPcY8_A6lUxTJeejtNVF_jsjqpyEn1zH2iJSjYjOqq0LvrpQDh7vaXMa3TPxmdgIdg7kXVqUFWztobr0rN9pz/s1600/IMG_4389.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW9jz4BlZd8lWCrxxmfU2_0eLcVrCmJg7MiP0hlFLg-uAZS3oTPcY8_A6lUxTJeejtNVF_jsjqpyEn1zH2iJSjYjOqq0LvrpQDh7vaXMa3TPxmdgIdg7kXVqUFWztobr0rN9pz/s400/IMG_4389.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567619085625875938" border="0" /></a>We once rented a 4x4 to visit the countryside to get closer to the volcanic (and the volcano too!) lanscape of Fuerteventura. And the posted pictures could resume what Fuerteventura is all about.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8rv6GSKlBgeaKHnPmkNCqqUZO5h8sl747c1J_vuC69ssdZjSCqIDUjzk4hpyA11DS_j1ltnWk_r4fL1Bz18Po-wDleA-1ypjbO3Di8vONKSjXydHgnyWJOSTa9JNoYF0BUPV/s1600/IMG_4356.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8rv6GSKlBgeaKHnPmkNCqqUZO5h8sl747c1J_vuC69ssdZjSCqIDUjzk4hpyA11DS_j1ltnWk_r4fL1Bz18Po-wDleA-1ypjbO3Di8vONKSjXydHgnyWJOSTa9JNoYF0BUPV/s400/IMG_4356.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567619527910461634" border="0" /></a>It was an untouched nature. Far from pollution. Far from the stressful feel of any city. It was simply heaven.<br /><br />Note: Corralejo is a small town of Fuerteventura situated at the northernmost part of the island. Tourism is there but not as exploited as the cities at the southern part of the island. If you hate bunches of tourists, Corralejo is your place.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-81651885222289429332010-04-18T15:34:00.012+02:002010-04-25T22:25:11.725+02:00A Not-So-Ordinary EB in AthensYes, I finally set an EB with a longtime online friend <a href="http://www.shalimarorlanes.com/">Shalimar Orlanes</a>. But what's extraordinary about our EB is that - we didn't personally met! Go figure! She was basking under the sun of Florida when I visited Athens - but that didn't keep her from welcoming us in her appartment. Bonnie, a family friend welcomed us and made us feel like we already knew each other for years!<br /><br />Frenchguy still couldn't digest how Filipinos open their doors to strangers. And how strangers could be considered friends just after reading their blogs, after chatting and after being friends through Facebook. Well, I really can't find the right words to explain to him when here in Dijon, befriending someone is not an easy task. He's still culture-shocked!<br /><br />Ate Bonnie and Shasha, thanks for the experience. I think our meeting is the highlight of this getaway - more than the visit of Athens itself. You showed Frenchguy another bright side of true Filipino hospitality and I thank you for that.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Getaway</span><br /><br />Did I tell you our favorite motto at home? When the kids are away, the parents will play.<br /><br />We had a 3-day weekend to spend without the kids, Frenchguy and I looked at each other and *ding* (lightbulb ON), quick getaway starting to materialize in our head. I started to eye on great travel deals - I hesitated between Marrakech (Morocco), Istanbul (Turkey) and Athens (Greece) - but my resident card limited me inside the Schengen zone.<br /><br />I started to check what flight could suit best our schedule and Olympic Air was just perfect. Leaving Paris at 7:30pm and leaving Athens at 4:30pm. That would give us ample time to enjoy Greek capital to the max.<br /><br />Since Ate Bonnie was at that time on a short getaway in London and arriving 2 hours after our arrival in Athens, we decided we'd stay in a hotel for a night. Since it was just for a night, I decided I would try the hotel top secret promotion from lastminute.com and yes, we stayed in a 5-star hotel situated at the heart of Athens at 50% off.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Couch Surfing - My Way</span><br /><br />Have you heard about this concept? If not, then google it, lol. The first time I've heard about this idea, I thought it was for me. I love the idea. Tourism for me is not only visiting tourist spots and taking my pictures infront of them. I want to go beyond that. I want to penetrate one's culture. I want to observe the way locals spend their daily lives. Curious-me wants to get a closer look.<br /><br />But since couch surfing isn't ideal for a family of four, I content myself with different solutions like when we spent 3 days in an <a href="http://myhideaway04.blogspot.com/2008/05/italian-getaway.html">Agriturismo</a> in the Tuscany Region of Italy or when we visited the <a href="http://myhideaway04.blogspot.com/2008/03/egypt-pharaonic-experience-ii.html">Nubian Village</a> in Egypt.<br /><br />Staying at <a href="http://www.shalimarorlanes.com/">Shasha's place</a> is my way of penetrating to how Filipinos live their lives outside of the Philippines. Dijon's Filipino community is limited to probably 10 members that you could hardly call it a community. Athens count thousands of Filipinos apparently, and their Filipinoness is still there. Ate Bonnie has spent more than 20 years in Athens but according to Frenchguy - she's still Filipino. Why? Because she prepares more than one type of breakfast everyday! For Frenchguy, a cup of coffee, a slice of bread and butter should be enough.<strike>And kulit ni Frenchguy, ganun talaga Pinoy. Kandaugaga palagi to please our visitors, right?</strike><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Athens - The Visit</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNRtNgepWdpdqooeechpU0wvMxbtFrjHQjZbCTjJIzb5XFuiAu-rDVGYrVOi22hMW25Z6WMXu3tlQNmMecNouYJIInYr1b8lsF32tQTNN5EwhT6fPB8KzvtVU5qOXZuWpMzqyu/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNRtNgepWdpdqooeechpU0wvMxbtFrjHQjZbCTjJIzb5XFuiAu-rDVGYrVOi22hMW25Z6WMXu3tlQNmMecNouYJIInYr1b8lsF32tQTNN5EwhT6fPB8KzvtVU5qOXZuWpMzqyu/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464084089993247730" border="0" /></a>I was expecting an old city, not like France or Italy - but older than that. Not that I was expecting columns and sculptures on each building - that's too much asking - but, well, I don't really know. I was probably expecting to see something different but disappointed to realize that yes, I was still in Europe!<br /><br />I would describe Athens as an old city with distinct monuments here and there, surrounded by new and modern buildings and decorated by bitter orange trees everywhere. Though stray dogs were quite everywhere (which was not common in Europe), I was agreably surprised to see how clean the city was.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNeNYfpJuQF2pZZjTOWdGWPXaow43hdJLcY9CE5y4RIShR4b0d9BiX770vlbawcSgRp7aYCoLnSixv7Usf9MqKhlOxTfjt5GamvhB9A_UNIYMgNAUBlnRBjk_q9ugsEC1Gllp0/s1600/IMG_9869.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNeNYfpJuQF2pZZjTOWdGWPXaow43hdJLcY9CE5y4RIShR4b0d9BiX770vlbawcSgRp7aYCoLnSixv7Usf9MqKhlOxTfjt5GamvhB9A_UNIYMgNAUBlnRBjk_q9ugsEC1Gllp0/s320/IMG_9869.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464162833259294322" border="0" /></a>We started the visit by walking through the Plaka District then continued through Anafiotika District (which I found more exotic than the rest of Athens). From there we saw this sign going up the Acropolis so we followed suit (for info, all monuments of Athens open their doors to public free of charge every Sunday).<br /><br />For future visitors, I would recommend to visit the Acropolis Museum first before visiting the monuments, especially if you already forgot the history of Athens.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy03OIy0frZ0g-Hh_3AssOhJtHhVmrmuUr1Iqffwc8SROedYuCmM0toBxpjs4Sx04K_Tk5V0rVmXYh65VSGNyxmo8VdMYM4C6rl2L6G-rFOZj0n51_I0KDOleKN8vS0NdAUDgw/s1600/IMG_9870.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy03OIy0frZ0g-Hh_3AssOhJtHhVmrmuUr1Iqffwc8SROedYuCmM0toBxpjs4Sx04K_Tk5V0rVmXYh65VSGNyxmo8VdMYM4C6rl2L6G-rFOZj0n51_I0KDOleKN8vS0NdAUDgw/s320/IMG_9870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464160199284588594" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDsYrRqohHZNYbGMR945AQt92LfBilR_Hvlio6rbZt7ql3zGveeMPUFGm95sQFZHzKQ4xWttg-YMTLTdukarN87b55OlnBlkd_sqjlnHlUP1YdT4767NJoAgaSNLR04sN2Qcf/s1600/IMG_9904.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDsYrRqohHZNYbGMR945AQt92LfBilR_Hvlio6rbZt7ql3zGveeMPUFGm95sQFZHzKQ4xWttg-YMTLTdukarN87b55OlnBlkd_sqjlnHlUP1YdT4767NJoAgaSNLR04sN2Qcf/s320/IMG_9904.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464161036380271746" border="0" /></a>We spent the whole afternoon roaming around the city and waited for sunset at the Lycabettus Hill. From there, we had a spectacular view of Athens - changing color as the sun sets. We then dined at the Exarchia District which by the way offered better Tavernas (restaurants) compared to the touristic Plaka District.<br /><br />After an intensive Athens overload, we decided to take the bus the next day which took a scenic route by the sea. Direction - Sounion. There, another monument dedicated to Poseidon was dominating the area.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZKAXWrs1yN4zALFx3gStCg1Tbrq5m-1aaKZ7s4X-gfMdoIQd44nzdgQ01zx0nzzLd202aYYuxUrB8xbJ2XLTCLa8e5U2jhtMnxbFHI9Cc2bBefwH3NzyRJbI2nZ3aUuvDtvEO/s1600/IMG_0118.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZKAXWrs1yN4zALFx3gStCg1Tbrq5m-1aaKZ7s4X-gfMdoIQd44nzdgQ01zx0nzzLd202aYYuxUrB8xbJ2XLTCLa8e5U2jhtMnxbFHI9Cc2bBefwH3NzyRJbI2nZ3aUuvDtvEO/s400/IMG_0118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464168544227504946" border="0" /></a>After that quick escapade, we again took the bus which took us back to Athens. We continued our visit in different districts of Athens and decided we needed to wait to see the Acropolis at night.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXZLRX7Jo3W3Q87TniXzWeMylOb1YO9Qi1vmF6W9mlSF1U6Kd6xwZ4zLoNqhKe4XlYWsTGU8_6IVeZm5sMNzgsNsFwhcAmIFvmQ2svmbpalQdf6IXdQEZkmJ8cfyWMSjZWffzI/s1600/IMG_0228.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXZLRX7Jo3W3Q87TniXzWeMylOb1YO9Qi1vmF6W9mlSF1U6Kd6xwZ4zLoNqhKe4XlYWsTGU8_6IVeZm5sMNzgsNsFwhcAmIFvmQ2svmbpalQdf6IXdQEZkmJ8cfyWMSjZWffzI/s400/IMG_0228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464171528812989202" border="0" /></a>It was worth the wait. It was a Saturday night and Athens was all the more lively. We whiled away our time on top of a hill nearby the Acropolis Rock then continued our walk to find ourselves in a cozy restaurant near the cathedral. Did I say that Greek food is great?<br /><br />Our last day was spent re-visiting the Acropolis. Yes, we're never tired. In fact, we visited the museum and we realized that we didn't see anything, lol. So up we went again to check the details that we missed from our first visit.<br /><br />To sum up, it was a great weekend getaway. I'll probably go back when the girls are bigger.. or probably earlier, but to visit the islands this time.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-43152010947778390832010-03-27T15:11:00.000+01:002010-03-27T14:41:50.810+01:00Day 5-8: BoholWe've exchanged numbers and email addresses before we bid goodbye. The other frenchies continued their adventure in Puerto Princesa while we continued ours in Bohol.<br /><br />We took the Cebu Pacific flight direct from Legaspi to Cebu, then the SuperCat ferry from Cebu to Tagbilaran. Transportation was A-OK! Efficient and on time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkLw4ZeoE-p5gkOhGA3_5mcosFwLZjCK3aSVbBuHN_iCqiY7HhzpX0KHEJeOqPmv_kpKd585dGffH3DwojqJK96aMDU_tFK9h3LHn435QfYoA0TFU8bUZOopegS7qm3j5Oqb8/s1600/IMG_9046.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkLw4ZeoE-p5gkOhGA3_5mcosFwLZjCK3aSVbBuHN_iCqiY7HhzpX0KHEJeOqPmv_kpKd585dGffH3DwojqJK96aMDU_tFK9h3LHn435QfYoA0TFU8bUZOopegS7qm3j5Oqb8/s320/IMG_9046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453277859354575410" border="0" /></a>Arriving in Tagbilaran, we took a tricycle to our hotel in Panglao Island. I've actually chosen a place which goes out of the ordinary - a sort of Bahay Kubo and the effect was great. We haven't thought about our work yet since we started our island hopping tour, lol. Since it was already late in the evening when we arrived in Bohol, we only had time to leave our backpacks in the hotel then we hurried out to scout for a good restaurant.<br /><br />The next day was declared as scooter day. We rented one to be able to explore the island without any hassle - without being dependent to public transportation. We didn't want to rent a car either because we wanted to escape from the comfort of our everyday lives. And since we had no kids, it was feasible and highly recommendable!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8INyxqzm8Bzuqz8wh5L5jbRXZeMbENFzRguwB9CZeikEngyXpcO2RjdgvfPvm5SGNAmDq0uCeyVHhJzfwq_T59VVpegxwRlR4aP-n0rrcpAeHFc6VYhuMVHdtSZIEzOtudYSm/s1600/IMG_9008.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8INyxqzm8Bzuqz8wh5L5jbRXZeMbENFzRguwB9CZeikEngyXpcO2RjdgvfPvm5SGNAmDq0uCeyVHhJzfwq_T59VVpegxwRlR4aP-n0rrcpAeHFc6VYhuMVHdtSZIEzOtudYSm/s200/IMG_9008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453286246769057954" border="0" /></a>We headed first to - where else - the Chocolate Hills. Then took again our scooter to have our lunch at one of the Loboc River's floating restaurant. Though the concept was more of an 'industrial scale' type of tourism and it lacked a local and natural feel to it, it was nevertheless fun. There was a group of musicians who serenaded us during a sumptous buffet lunch - who by the way sang not only Filipino songs but also Korean and Chinese songs! There were groups of folkdancers in different points of the river who incited visitors to try Tinikling and other local dances.<br /><br />We again took our scooter to hunt for tarsiers.. then to check the Hanging Bridge.. then to different remote areas of the island just to enjoy countryside driving before we decided we had enough for the day and it was time to enjoy the seaside.<br /><br />The next day was dedicated to dolphin watching, snorkeling and island hopping. We saw quite a lot of groups of dolphins in the area, but honestly, after swimming with the Butanding, the impact was much less.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilk8JxddlV4uDmONvOUAw0adMdTY-2lD3VAM1enADFLZt43AcJUJoc9qVvF-wBxgNZCYnDelxVsHSBA6lsX2f3RqyQvva3OCZubWfBT2o_Tw5ArnXvVGPenlNHqqB1cDFoxybm/s1600/IMG_9233.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 157px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilk8JxddlV4uDmONvOUAw0adMdTY-2lD3VAM1enADFLZt43AcJUJoc9qVvF-wBxgNZCYnDelxVsHSBA6lsX2f3RqyQvva3OCZubWfBT2o_Tw5ArnXvVGPenlNHqqB1cDFoxybm/s400/IMG_9233.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453289466739023442" border="0" /></a>I then asked the boatman to bring us to Balicasag Island to see the Fish Sanctuary and to snorkel a bit. I was very disappointed though because tourists and guides alike were standing on the corals to feed the fishes. I was snorkeling but all I could see were legs, legs and legs. These people were actually killing the goose that lays the golden egg. Too sad.<br /><br />Last stop was at the Virgin Island. It was a tiny island boasting with a very white fine sand. The sand was immaculately white. It was really inviting but tourists were just all over the island, there were no space to swim!<br /><br />It was easy to get bored when there's nothing to do so I asked the boatman to head us back to Panglao for lunch. We stayed along Alona Beach the whole afternoon - beach bummers! We walked along the beach with one objective in mind, check the hotels and see where we could stay the next time we go there - with kids!<br /><br />The next day was spent at Bohol Beach Club. It was just to kill time before our flight back to Manila. 8 days without the kids was relaxing, refreshing.. 8 days which were sufficient enough for us to miss the kids. We were walking hand in hand along the beach, both impatient to hear our noisy girls - Louna with her endless stories and Kyla with her dirty diapers.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-70542711780977631122010-03-13T15:05:00.000+01:002010-03-13T22:37:56.888+01:00Day 4 - Mount Mayon TrekDrrriiinggggg! 4:20 am. Frenchguy and I jumped off the bed and quickly dressed up and brushed our teeth. Our rendez-vous with the guide was at 4:30 am, there was no time to lose. We hurriedly took the stairs and met the other Frenchies at the reception area.<br /><br />4:35 am. Byron, the guide was still not there (Filipino time?). He promised he would arrive earlier. The Frenchies started to ask me questions on how sure it was that we paid 50% of the fee the night before.<br /><br />4:40 am. I started to call him up but nobody was answering. Ok, alright. Keep cool, Ana. He must still be cooking our chicken adobo for lunch.<br /><br />4:45 am. Byron called me up to inform me that he'll arrive in 3 minutes.<br /><br />He arrived after 5 minutes. It's been almost 9 years that I live here in France. I almost forgot what Filipino time is, lol.<br /><br />Well enough with the rant. The 4 Frenchies and I cramped ourselves inside the tricycle with the driver and our beloved guide. The joyride up to the jump off point was around 15 minutes. It was drizzling when we arrived there, must be the morning dew. 2 other guys met us on our way to Camp 1 - Byron's brother who is a guide himself and a younger one who carried our food.<br /><br />It was still dark when we started the trek so head lamps and flashlights were more than necessary. I was wearing a short and it was actually a bad idea since the trail was quite narrow and dense with tall weeds, I had a lot of wounds and cuts after the trek.<br /><br />Byron explained that the trek to Camp 1 should take us around 2 hours, but it would all depend on our pace. From there, we would then decide on whether we continue the hike or not to Camp 2. Few minutes after the start of the trek, the morning dew started to get higher intensity - it somewhat reminds me of rain. A what? A RAIN?<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9LBPe1g2zIkYll93O5oRbKFAv0oCQdcQu8Hf3KG5JwrRKCNu9CCfFHVbHfYlO6BznCKUl8JBCf780nCxKmpdEPN9vO7QlQvCbkKpU1AVn6UzGkjSQeIqwAehoJk4ZIyCBxUkn/s1600-h/IMG_8478.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9LBPe1g2zIkYll93O5oRbKFAv0oCQdcQu8Hf3KG5JwrRKCNu9CCfFHVbHfYlO6BznCKUl8JBCf780nCxKmpdEPN9vO7QlQvCbkKpU1AVn6UzGkjSQeIqwAehoJk4ZIyCBxUkn/s320/IMG_8478.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448106849731273186" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">No. That's not the Hunchback of Notre Dame. That's me trying to protect my camera in my backpack.</span><br /></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDdu2tiYDUvjFWSmMnYFC25UhbLJWAvcKuSAa97Yuqd_URsiorvOOX5QrzQa-lptIvEw0ilNEv-NpXswxZHsx-dr9ODpZQwlqX9hePRIKxfkqnzNMhH1832RgkOXzjsVeDKT0/s1600-h/IMG_8497.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDdu2tiYDUvjFWSmMnYFC25UhbLJWAvcKuSAa97Yuqd_URsiorvOOX5QrzQa-lptIvEw0ilNEv-NpXswxZHsx-dr9ODpZQwlqX9hePRIKxfkqnzNMhH1832RgkOXzjsVeDKT0/s200/IMG_8497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448109995966732418" border="0" /></a>Yes. It was rain. We hiked Mayon Volcano under the rain! But that didn't stop us from tracing the trail and arrive at Camp 1 an hour and 20 minutes after the start. It was even too early to take our morning coffee but since it was raining and we had nothing else to do, we decided to take our coffee in this half-finished shelter in Camp 1 while waiting for our shirts to dry.<br /><br />The youngest guy carrying a big backpack was actually carrying everything! Even a thermos full of hot water for our breakfast!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvf834PXkbzNWDMiNVIlrOfe5AMFeApF8VjiidVqXSUoeY9hVgAcT1mi5KaVqs5vBvqbZqtiKohr1ivlA8TqB9gaxdvaq_XTFMSOnGUfsg0qV8jicb-ij9Vz_w2eaBcplo_JAI/s1600-h/IMG_8489.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvf834PXkbzNWDMiNVIlrOfe5AMFeApF8VjiidVqXSUoeY9hVgAcT1mi5KaVqs5vBvqbZqtiKohr1ivlA8TqB9gaxdvaq_XTFMSOnGUfsg0qV8jicb-ij9Vz_w2eaBcplo_JAI/s320/IMG_8489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448108235532522754" border="0" /></a>The carpenters who apparently stayed there for the night told us that it won't be prudent to hike up to Camp 2 since it had been raining up there for 2 consecutive nights. The trail was slippery. And anyway, with a weather like that, we won't be able to appreciate the beauty of Mount Mayon.<br /><br />I explained to the Frenchies and hardheaded as they were, we decided to wait a bit for the rain to cease. The rain of course continued and even increased its intensity (<span style="font-style: italic;">sino kaya sa mga to ang may balat sa p*wet?</span>).<br /><br />Byron, concerned about satisfying our quest for adventure asked us if it would be appreciated if instead of hiking up to Camp 2, we would rather take another route and approach the lava from the last eruption barely 2 months ago (December 2009!). The answer was of course unanimous.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyNADf_52jDnNIL9nC9sR0wtf8a5sakqqANSZOlJ6DiBcjrx2UFfw_KvPhIBOuVaTMrblxcmuvbvtGhB1Qfyt0X5cDTazwUT-JVBzEyZu_DluCTSX5CqlZ-zGodoQZg1T4JWjG/s1600-h/IMG_8531.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyNADf_52jDnNIL9nC9sR0wtf8a5sakqqANSZOlJ6DiBcjrx2UFfw_KvPhIBOuVaTMrblxcmuvbvtGhB1Qfyt0X5cDTazwUT-JVBzEyZu_DluCTSX5CqlZ-zGodoQZg1T4JWjG/s320/IMG_8531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448113325747036514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">It looks so close but it was in fact far and almost inaccessible. Byron said that they couldn't go that close just a month ago since it was still hot and fuming.</span></span> </div><br />The trail going in that direction wasn't really a "trail". At some point, it was us who did the trail with the help of a bolo knife.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhis72pgol15_IBuAAolICXwYTZMUVVg8OVQ0AEqCD2mvVbOUlgzSTr9Rx9SDzmIzZrx72zvGuN9FtC0nl9bEruWMTh4WIH3Uysj_zJIC-XfbKrTFkz_SS39hhiotuoJAGYfSNN/s1600-h/IMG_8577.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhis72pgol15_IBuAAolICXwYTZMUVVg8OVQ0AEqCD2mvVbOUlgzSTr9Rx9SDzmIzZrx72zvGuN9FtC0nl9bEruWMTh4WIH3Uysj_zJIC-XfbKrTFkz_SS39hhiotuoJAGYfSNN/s320/IMG_8577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448114611130903714" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">That's me and our guide on top of the lava. Nakukulitan na sa kin, lol. As you can see, the weather wasn't at all cooperating!</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wpXxl5LwoWj7aWE6ZJxPFYJu0QMlgLMSBeBw2faHtN3fpfEL0vFdV86i4migHHudR99eULMp9oyeFfQXQfWBQqBybl28Q4ndbeMZMM7Q-ksde_vfetfVGZ-o05x9eMWCRY3H/s1600-h/IMG_8619.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2wpXxl5LwoWj7aWE6ZJxPFYJu0QMlgLMSBeBw2faHtN3fpfEL0vFdV86i4migHHudR99eULMp9oyeFfQXQfWBQqBybl28Q4ndbeMZMM7Q-ksde_vfetfVGZ-o05x9eMWCRY3H/s320/IMG_8619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448115289750503506" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">But we patiently waited.. (we had our lunch up there!)</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DbPT3lyKYcZCg0WLVccVDed6VjaokqqK07J4h_yG57xx2VlAsT3aDOvyOv1Mclj2bQzeU4ZN0aqi51RQTlsLBtIvd9KUbwqWxrcrmWigZSjQZm3GQ5nGdF16JrRfpAoDOffa/s1600-h/IMG_8717.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DbPT3lyKYcZCg0WLVccVDed6VjaokqqK07J4h_yG57xx2VlAsT3aDOvyOv1Mclj2bQzeU4ZN0aqi51RQTlsLBtIvd9KUbwqWxrcrmWigZSjQZm3GQ5nGdF16JrRfpAoDOffa/s320/IMG_8717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448116344558742898" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">And the wait was all worth it! The tip of the cone.. at last!</span></span></div><br />The group was of course happy and satisfied with the hike. We stayed more than an hour on top of the lava to get a closer look of the tip. We never looked at the clouds that close all our life, lol.<br /><br />We started our descent around 1pm. We decided that the day wasn't over yet so a quick shower at the hotel and off we went to the Cagsawa Ruins. Again, clouds were there to hide Mt Mayon but no worries, we're patient ;).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDIJZr-HKR7EGTSPxC7eD41SC70aF-AEDMGJlGwBPkJkeySDhcjyfjhY3-x_SHhJyfnV8C8L7qdOiyO5dm7cQfjokeEmiFilOfUXi8IA9hcya32vXecdHuArA5rxVdl1rHmgWX/s1600-h/IMG_8841.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDIJZr-HKR7EGTSPxC7eD41SC70aF-AEDMGJlGwBPkJkeySDhcjyfjhY3-x_SHhJyfnV8C8L7qdOiyO5dm7cQfjokeEmiFilOfUXi8IA9hcya32vXecdHuArA5rxVdl1rHmgWX/s400/IMG_8841.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448230735888210978" border="0" /></a>There were some kids in the area advicing picture tricks to tourists and even explaining to us the history of Mt Mayon.. and even what type of rocks Cagsawa Church was built! Wow! Saludo po ako sa inyo.<br /><br />Even if we haven't had enough of Mt Mayon yet, it was already time to take the jeepney back to Legazpi. And since it was our last day together with the Frenchies, it has been decided that we all take the ultimate challenge - eat BALUT !<br /><br />After 4 bottles each of Red Horse beer and a bit of local delicacies here and there, the Frenchies were still hesitant to take the challenge. But a challenge is a challenge. So on our way back to the hotel, we stopped a balut vendor and ta-dan.. yes people, Frenchguy ate his first balut of his life, lol. After that experience, all agreed it was good to rinse off that irky taste (for them only of course) with another bottle of Red Horse beer.<br /><br />We agreed to take breakfast together the next day.. I could already feel the mighty Red Horse kicking me off to bed...ZZzzzzzzzzz.<br /><br />Next: Day 5-8 BoholAnalysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-89074178093771091332010-03-03T15:08:00.007+01:002010-03-13T22:38:54.690+01:00Day 2-3: Donsol, Sorsogon<span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 2 : Catanduanes to Donsol, Sorsogon</span><br /><br />We had to wake up early that morning to catch the first jeepney going from Virac to San Andres. Then the ferry from San Andres to Tabaco, Albay at 8:30am. We had our coffee at one of the <span style="font-style: italic;">carinderias</span> at the pier while waiting for boarding. It was actually my first time to ride a ferry in the Philippines and I was quite curious how it would be like. The 3-hour ride must be fun.<br /><br />It was a fine day, the sky was blue, but the beautiful Mount Mayon was teasing us, hiding behind the clouds. I was contemplating on a picture format - clear blue water with Mt Mayon at the background. But all I got was this - a big ship and a hardly recognizable Mt Mayon at the background.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSf5ntEefwyOODtNSG05lKGAyvUIwmeu3hl0Un5fLKydyr6Sk3uWdm5Wc49u3YonyZasYL_8DKPVXUt7FpxObAgntC-K3i-Zzj1NwVdluaHkULdOhwoEYkqS-IEMaH_aLFq7wf/s1600-h/IMG_8335.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSf5ntEefwyOODtNSG05lKGAyvUIwmeu3hl0Un5fLKydyr6Sk3uWdm5Wc49u3YonyZasYL_8DKPVXUt7FpxObAgntC-K3i-Zzj1NwVdluaHkULdOhwoEYkqS-IEMaH_aLFq7wf/s320/IMG_8335.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445478793012856370" border="0" /></a>Frenchguy was equally impatient to see the cone. He was insisting that Mt Fuji is more perfect than Mt Mayon (he by the way saw Mt Fuji behind the clouds - <span style="font-style: italic;">may balat yata to sa p*wet!</span>) and though I never saw Mt Fuji, I was trying to defend Mt Mayon's reputation, lol.<br /><br />From Tabaco to Legaspi, Frenchguy was focusing on the volcano but the clouds were really thick at that time, we can hardly get a glimpse of the tip. But once he saw the tip, he suddenly fell in love, he forgot how uncomfortable it was inside the van. He never quitted it with his eyes so I started to remind him that the volcano erupted barely two months ago and alert level was probably still up. I think he wasn't listening to me. He was there, admiring the beauty of Mt Mayon.<br /><br />It was lunch time when we arrived at the van terminal so we reserved our place in the van going to Donsol and hurried at the nearest <span style="font-style: italic;">carinderia</span>. Legaspi to Donsol was around 45 minutes ride at P65/person.<br /><br />Arriving in Donsol, we headed at once at the Tourist Information Center for the registration. Registration fee was P100 for locals and P300 for foreigners. Snorkel and fins rental was p300/day. Boat rental with guide for the Butanding encounter was P3500, generally shared by 6 visitors. And at that time, there were no problem searching for other visitors to share the fee. I was quite surprised by the number of tourist in that area. I thought it was low season.. but then, it was also Chinese New Year and winter vacation in Europe.<br /><br />After gathering all necessary information about the Butanding encounter, it was time to find a resting place for us. Most of the resorts near the Tourist Information Center had no available rooms anymore but we were still lucky to find one in Casa Bianca. The rooms were not really extraordinary but I don't intend to stay inside the room during my stay there so i didn't really care.<br /><br />After a quick shower, we continued walking along the beach to wait for sunset. The beach wasn't really inviting so we contented ourselves with a glass of <span style="font-style: italic;">halo-halo</span> in a nearby resort.<br /><br />At 7pm, we decided we'd end the day with a firefly watch at the river. Frenchguy and I were engaged in an uncensored close-to-horny conversation while waiting for the start of the visit when we realized that the Filipino family near us could understand French! Yay! And since the youngest was currently learning French, we finally decided it would be great if we share the same <span style="font-style: italic;">bangka</span> with them.<br /><br />The firefly watch wasn't really spectacular but it was a good way to while away our time before dinner. We had our dinner at Baracuda Bar and it was G R E A T (must try!) - ambiance, food and of course it's infront of the beach!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Day 3 - Butanding Encounter - Back to Legaspi</span><br /><br />We arrived at 7am at the Tourist Information Center. There were already a lot of people waiting to be registered but luckily (that's the advantage of being a Filipina), a guide approached me to propose his boat because he lacked 2 more people to complete it. He then did all the registration in no time and off we went before the other tourists were even registered.<br /><br />The guide explained to us all that was needed to know while we were on our way to the whaleshark watchpoint. There were already few boats roaming around the area when we arrived. We started to clean our snorkel, fit the fins and prepare the camera when suddenly, the guide asked us to get ready. When he shouted GO, we got off the boat one after the other. I couldn't find Frenchguy anymore, selfish little b*stard. He knew that swimming was not my strongest point. When I submerged my head under the water, the Butanding was there just infront of me, swimming on my direction. I swear, I was there, paralyzed, not knowing how to react (I even forgot how to use my cam!). We were warned to keep at least a 2-meter distance but the Butanding seemed to be too close I could almost touch it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBc_OkG0PglCQ3P4TXOzthmeatzgRYBbQQ3_48SfysczQae0kqrkN73cA_jAUrGkTow3J-B-OWagxTt8ZgSZMLIMkCXq73bBVsk_89ChTFACgKpDTKx2y-N3tL66aWMmdKC87A/s1600-h/img0010.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBc_OkG0PglCQ3P4TXOzthmeatzgRYBbQQ3_48SfysczQae0kqrkN73cA_jAUrGkTow3J-B-OWagxTt8ZgSZMLIMkCXq73bBVsk_89ChTFACgKpDTKx2y-N3tL66aWMmdKC87A/s320/img0010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445512316320873122" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">Frenchguy with the Butanding. Until now, I still don't know how to express how I felt when I first saw this harmless whaleshark. It was surreal! </span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></div><br />When it finally passed my way, I started to swim in its direction (with I don't know how much pair of snorkels and fins around!). It was approximately 5 minutes of overwhelming experience before the Butanding decided to swim deeper.<br /><br />The experience was awesome. We did 6 encounters in 3 hours and saw 4 different Butandings ranging from 6-10 meters long.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgYOPwSRqbOKWUALaT_rOOpYF3Dr4BXvYB16n0-6OCq4VApXOQku6CMrEclwFEgKr5lvlwdpvTZUmZ2F4Zh45-Ljj2BnYStM6Kc0ZsGeuBiXzL8OqC_LKTYR3A0N-wOFNX2W5/s1600-h/IMG_8459.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgYOPwSRqbOKWUALaT_rOOpYF3Dr4BXvYB16n0-6OCq4VApXOQku6CMrEclwFEgKr5lvlwdpvTZUmZ2F4Zh45-Ljj2BnYStM6Kc0ZsGeuBiXzL8OqC_LKTYR3A0N-wOFNX2W5/s320/IMG_8459.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445635330914184514" border="0" /></a>We met 3 other Frenchies staying in the same hotel as us. Conversation was of course focused on Butanding and what activity should we do next. Everybody voted for a cockfight session but unfortunately, it was quite too late so we finally packed our stuffs and agreed to start heading back to Legaspi.<br /><br />Arriving at the terminal, we learned that there was no more van travelling to Legaspi so we were obliged to take the jeepney instead. Countryside viewing is much more fun of course if you travel up the jeepney!<br /><br />Since Frenchguy and I, the adventurous and well-organized backpackers, had no hotel reservation, we just followed the 3 Frenchies with their Lonely Planet guide. Arriving at the hotel, I asked the receptionist if they're organizing a trek to Mount Mayon the next day (it was Sunday, Tourist Information Center was closed). She called up an accredited guide and in no time, the fees were fixed and we were told to sleep early as the climb would start at 4:30am!<br /><br />We haven't even digested the aftershock of the whaleshark encounter and here we are again, getting excited to the idea of hiking Mount Mayon.<br /><br /><a href="http://myhideaway04.blogspot.com/2010/03/day-4-mount-mayon-trek.html">Next: Day 4 - Mount Mayon Trek</a>Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-29621126559743182042010-03-02T22:02:00.022+01:002010-03-06T22:42:50.846+01:003 Destinations In 8 Days - Day 1 - Virac, CatanduanesI had always been reticent about visiting my own country. Probably because I kept a bad picture of my <a href="http://myhideaway04.blogspot.com/2007/01/pagsanjan-fell.html">old experiences</a>, probably because we were hot baits for policemen and probably because I always paid higher prices because I was with “Joe”. Personally, I would rather visit Thailand or other countries than my own country - because I feel safer elsewhere and I don’t need to justify our culture, our poverty, our corruption, everything. In other countries, I’m the one criticizing and not the one criticized. But that's just me.<br /><br />But our last getaway changed my view about travelling in the Philippines. I was agreably surprised. Hang in there as I recount our backpacking adventure around the Philippines with my Frenchguy. <div><br /></div><div style="font-weight: bold;">Day 1 - Virac, Catanduanes</div><div><br /></div><div>Our plane was scheduled early that morning and though it was quite hard to wake up after a hectic sched including <a href="http://privatenursery.blogspot.com/2010/02/philippine-getaway-2010.html">our youngest daughter's Christening</a>, it was an exciting perspective knowing that we're travelling without the kids. Frenchguy was curious to know where I was taking him but I just told him to relax, don't think about the planning as I'd take care of everything.</div><div><br /></div><div>The one hour ride finally went fast, I wasn't even able to finish reading the onboard magazine. Drizzly weather was announced outside.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why Virac? Honestly, it was not our main destination. It was just a jump-off point. Initial plan was to do island hopping in the Caramoan peninsula but the weather wasn't that cooperative so I decided to stay in the island.</div><div><br /></div><div>We visited the century-old Bato Church instead then whiled away our time in the hidden Maribina Falls in Brgy Cabugao. We then satisfied our hungry stomach at Sea Breeze restaurant which serves rock lobsters at a very affordable price (P700/kg!).</div><div><center><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWiRD68DBNqTtWOG9dQdEjPiQVS9sQU4N54aCYHv6GiPy8_nrZyNj71r5B4JeXMiQdaM7S2tlUSBU-ZG7Pir-GSFyFdEy49xuTnhPvlgPnk4J6n7bpxvzT8g83UFjYDKsU15Xn/s1600-h/IMG_8194.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWiRD68DBNqTtWOG9dQdEjPiQVS9sQU4N54aCYHv6GiPy8_nrZyNj71r5B4JeXMiQdaM7S2tlUSBU-ZG7Pir-GSFyFdEy49xuTnhPvlgPnk4J6n7bpxvzT8g83UFjYDKsU15Xn/s320/IMG_8194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444411662177606066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfSjFPC58C1KNvaC7mqi54Ihxo32M3gAHZfnNEef4ajwp66Gbac1gpP05un345wJz39UPKW593yEa_7KMFQCLqdPD9ony0FQoWL6nZ1xIZdMODP52SGIpwWU8toTm8OxtJPpl/s1600-h/IMG_8202.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfSjFPC58C1KNvaC7mqi54Ihxo32M3gAHZfnNEef4ajwp66Gbac1gpP05un345wJz39UPKW593yEa_7KMFQCLqdPD9ony0FQoWL6nZ1xIZdMODP52SGIpwWU8toTm8OxtJPpl/s320/IMG_8202.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444412044813298034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq2LM2D1NnQ28uY03E2BZKJUpfWG32ffYdDx9v0zCCzF8dugmIuqu1NsgqqRdosmCuJydHl0zIQ48dmvsiPQBoVEtY91dvzscTq9iO8dampsXuaMyLUQagB_r1dlRl4PNfzWp5/s1600-h/IMG_8237.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq2LM2D1NnQ28uY03E2BZKJUpfWG32ffYdDx9v0zCCzF8dugmIuqu1NsgqqRdosmCuJydHl0zIQ48dmvsiPQBoVEtY91dvzscTq9iO8dampsXuaMyLUQagB_r1dlRl4PNfzWp5/s320/IMG_8237.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444412957251016082" border="0" /></a></center><br /></div><div>The afternoon was spent in Puraran Beach, known as a surfing haven in that area. It was surely low season since we didn't bump to any surfer in the area. We met Jay though, an amateur photographer who gave me tips and tricks on how to use my camera! Yes people, until now, I still don't know how to use my cam, lol.</div><div><br /><center><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQDuFH_RvjI7Wn61c7Kpbw-B8nz7mPkhiKqhqxyFynQ-ofWgRvZ0XIjKaTvxuZ79xQ7WbXWrx_rKIwnBihoedWWhXEDgIhDA0XPRi-ZJyXQVFy80THlxGOEdf7odMesYhLNWZ/s1600-h/IMG_8267.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQDuFH_RvjI7Wn61c7Kpbw-B8nz7mPkhiKqhqxyFynQ-ofWgRvZ0XIjKaTvxuZ79xQ7WbXWrx_rKIwnBihoedWWhXEDgIhDA0XPRi-ZJyXQVFy80THlxGOEdf7odMesYhLNWZ/s320/IMG_8267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444414897977440978" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCOZUj3-s4YuTJlIVksznxjFiGPSRx0I_Nq2UtBIRBsHJAKNja3bgqUVngob_T6UF4jAAiFjrB-sWYKYhtxAG47oQtFRvBEbMHrLXlwiHlnT0Dr8i-Sl_0K_9d4UrGy_Q4WxY/s1600-h/IMG_8284.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCOZUj3-s4YuTJlIVksznxjFiGPSRx0I_Nq2UtBIRBsHJAKNja3bgqUVngob_T6UF4jAAiFjrB-sWYKYhtxAG47oQtFRvBEbMHrLXlwiHlnT0Dr8i-Sl_0K_9d4UrGy_Q4WxY/s320/IMG_8284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444414627718099602" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6HNqr6qBjj6jJGvRy8xw1E-3KDBbs0_ietva_OHPnkbk2tnJMb4mKF-9a6GUWbCuLI7zp6DxnpiLe79bsvos3bSKsQ8jd8tasoNwww1nxYbyzAV-BVhgg5ixJg9PIuxBmr3L/s1600-h/IMG_8282.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6HNqr6qBjj6jJGvRy8xw1E-3KDBbs0_ietva_OHPnkbk2tnJMb4mKF-9a6GUWbCuLI7zp6DxnpiLe79bsvos3bSKsQ8jd8tasoNwww1nxYbyzAV-BVhgg5ixJg9PIuxBmr3L/s320/IMG_8282.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444414329404126354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCuuejZO61yY6Q0nxlwb_QMNJLgLe2pZcHD-poA94x7ab29wGSJRw3dwWnncuaCJCSxvAPrFC5WjQfgOCJOtTPnf83ka95Te9G-9XDNe46I4Fg78c4gl10OFMvR8tXcW1lmhv/s1600-h/IMG_8268.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyCuuejZO61yY6Q0nxlwb_QMNJLgLe2pZcHD-poA94x7ab29wGSJRw3dwWnncuaCJCSxvAPrFC5WjQfgOCJOtTPnf83ka95Te9G-9XDNe46I4Fg78c4gl10OFMvR8tXcW1lmhv/s320/IMG_8268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444414134397182738" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUdnHklX-mvMiOTLwr1ehpyNs8YMNsPzIb0TBofc6D7NC0-MDyHq3oNPPd_216Rn4RpEtz9X_9G_eNG0IP0zX5LyLlBntLu1RjPBUnatW51IbErPe25vsHSNmK_a-0xYRfIFDi/s1600-h/IMG_8266.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUdnHklX-mvMiOTLwr1ehpyNs8YMNsPzIb0TBofc6D7NC0-MDyHq3oNPPd_216Rn4RpEtz9X_9G_eNG0IP0zX5LyLlBntLu1RjPBUnatW51IbErPe25vsHSNmK_a-0xYRfIFDi/s320/IMG_8266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444413948909799394" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYikR2lOmkglxY_cMQxFxDeLeMvJfhOuvrO4YLigM6AboWHj-6hvwT_Ko8G735SMoAQrGtjs4XdG9EECGEh_o63Y3Kb60bJ5GgC3e3rJQ28Ge4Tro_uA_AeckXO3f5C6jHuW-/s1600-h/IMG_8261.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYikR2lOmkglxY_cMQxFxDeLeMvJfhOuvrO4YLigM6AboWHj-6hvwT_Ko8G735SMoAQrGtjs4XdG9EECGEh_o63Y3Kb60bJ5GgC3e3rJQ28Ge4Tro_uA_AeckXO3f5C6jHuW-/s320/IMG_8261.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444413753235803346" border="0" /></a></center><br /></div><div>Jay offered to take us back near Virac onboard a truck which we accepted at once. Frenchguy stayed at the back with the other guys while I was seated comfortably near the driver, lol. Arriving at the truck's destination, we were obliged to wait for a tricycle to take us at downtown Virac. Believe it or not but I never saw a tricycle as productive as in Virac. We were 9 inside one tricycle! </div><div><center><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSAnDg5iy5oggIch_bFdmSPl5w3LLTNAIHFZ0aEcudVlOV6M8WiVgnloLNr3mmZYne23OCUc5KuYDdS7i1fBUvhMZ3IZJKSSOMO9w_Vd7upZwfzgvd_qijHmaLMF87OumRhpli/s1600-h/IMG_8254.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSAnDg5iy5oggIch_bFdmSPl5w3LLTNAIHFZ0aEcudVlOV6M8WiVgnloLNr3mmZYne23OCUc5KuYDdS7i1fBUvhMZ3IZJKSSOMO9w_Vd7upZwfzgvd_qijHmaLMF87OumRhpli/s320/IMG_8254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444413335616045234" border="0" /></a></center><br /></div><div>Our new found friend asked if we're interested to stay in the same hotel as his. Not seeing any inconvenience, we finally stayed together and continued chatting around a bottle of beer and a lot more of tips on how to use my cam. Yipeee! I feel bad though as I lost the paper where I wrote Jay's contact info :(</div><div><center><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04XEpH8dvHYyBx3kV4Eq45U3gxx3HgKvL5SzlV1Eb5IhJM12I534VnkD_2S0iarCzhuSS5f3XMk3ttUBAfMGfgYQw5HPRoQ-xv-M8UqiupB-RnE4ii7V30B-5DspFyVNvJlc2/s1600-h/IMG_8300.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04XEpH8dvHYyBx3kV4Eq45U3gxx3HgKvL5SzlV1Eb5IhJM12I534VnkD_2S0iarCzhuSS5f3XMk3ttUBAfMGfgYQw5HPRoQ-xv-M8UqiupB-RnE4ii7V30B-5DspFyVNvJlc2/s320/IMG_8300.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444415419163450818" border="0" /></a></center><br /></div><div>To sum up, our stay in Virac was full of fun rides and great encounter of great people. I don't normally trust strangers but people there were warm and accomodating.<br /></div><br />Next: <a href="http://myhideaway04.blogspot.com/2010/03/day-2-3-donsol-sorsogon.html">Day 2-3. Donsol, Sorsogon</a>Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-79973637114582108422009-11-11T18:51:00.002+01:002009-11-11T20:29:13.233+01:00Naturalization: First Interview at the Prefecture<div>Patience is a virtue. If you want to be French, then be patient.</div><div><br /></div>For the record, 14 months had passed between the moment I applied for naturalization and the moment I was interviewed at the Prefecture. I'm not surprised tho. I was told that they're already submerged of 10 months equivalent of files to process when I submitted my documents. Good thing, I wasn't in a hurry.<div><br /></div><div>When I received the appointment at home, I asked my Filipino friends living in France for some typical questions asked during this much-awaited interview. I prefer attacking a battle armed! Each of them of course had their own experiences so here's mine:</div><div><br /></div><div>I had my appointment at 11am but that didn't mean I was received at exactly that time. There were 2 girls before me so I waited like around 30 long minutes before the interview.</div><div><br /></div><div>When my turn came, I was asked first for some additional papers:</div><div><br /></div><div>- Kyla's proof of French nationality</div><div>- Louna's proof of scolarity</div><div>- my pay slip for the last 3 months</div><div>- my pay slip for December 2008</div><div>- latest CAF certificate </div><div>- tax revenue declaration for 2007 and 2008</div><div>- frenchguy's pay slip for the last 3 months</div><div><br /></div><div>And then the questions. I was practically asked the same questions already asked on the documents I furnished. Like when did I arrive? When did I start working? etc. Other questions were: What language is used at home? Am I part of any association? Do I frequent French communities or rather foreign communities? Why do I want to be French? Why didn't I apply earlier? etc.</div><div><br /></div><div>The questionning part was rather cool and stress-free. But the announced waiting time wasn't cool at all. Apparently, the police department will do their investigation thing, then after their official report, my file will be forwarded to the Ministère des Affaires Etrangères before the countdown begins. Count 15 months, I was told.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow!</div>Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-91800991690151052402009-08-18T21:58:00.015+02:002009-08-18T23:02:21.873+02:00CampingSunny at 27°C. That was the weather report last weekend. How would you organize your weekend with that almost-perfect weather? Would you spend the whole day inside the mall? Or stay at home doing nothing? I had another idea in mind.<br /><br />I've always wanted to bring Louna at the <a href="http://www.parc-auxois.com/">Parc de l'Auxois</a> and I thought last weekend was the perfect occasion. I checked for a camping site around the area and off I pursued to the reservation and all. I then announced to Frenchguy my plan and he enthousiastically agreed to my idea. He started to check the tent (which we bought 3 years ago but never used), duvets, camping gaz, chairs, beers (hehe), etc..<br /><br />The plan was to mount the tent Friday night (the site was just 40 min away from Dijon) then watch the fireworks display at the nearby village (to celebrate Ascension Day), spend the whole day Saturday at the <a href="http://www.parc-auxois.com/">Parc de l'Auxois</a>, pack the tent up Sunday morning and spend the rest of the day swimming, fishing, etc.<br /><br />So off we went Friday night. The camping site was up to our expectations - shady, clean and not too big.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyQPU0fvRZRWDsA3_ElHhjWBcuBqXbWG3092Cuqf5UVro_mKO9T_7Xtep_N7BDJfYjwKTgB1YDK05l2JcsQbFpTY9OmEH326QvGqsuqypAITovPTuvnbdTwc4gV9AsMxyV9B0/s1600-h/IMG_5846.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVyQPU0fvRZRWDsA3_ElHhjWBcuBqXbWG3092Cuqf5UVro_mKO9T_7Xtep_N7BDJfYjwKTgB1YDK05l2JcsQbFpTY9OmEH326QvGqsuqypAITovPTuvnbdTwc4gV9AsMxyV9B0/s400/IMG_5846.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371405314205364018" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >*Aperitif with the girls (*In France, the “apéritif” or “apéro” is an informal social ritual. It is quite usual to invite people for before-dinner drinks without actually providing dinner, or to arrange to meet someone in a café “pour l'apéritif” before going out for a meal.)</span><br /><br />The first night was great. After the fireworks display and after counting the stars, we read the night-time story using a flashlight inside our tent. Louna then slept with her Papa and Kyla with her Mom (it's still too early to put the girls inside one room, more so inside one room in a tent!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifLk_7zBIS-w0z0AwguVs1g8FMIVLfrOACpEdFJJmSJanerOZL2OX0FmfVaZ_PsxxRNORBgSIG-Vm9fgaJ1T-sIrNU6RNNcutyxCIwVKvH8Ai8AL88XjPFuzS_GDwPDuCAi9p/s1600-h/IMG_6061.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifLk_7zBIS-w0z0AwguVs1g8FMIVLfrOACpEdFJJmSJanerOZL2OX0FmfVaZ_PsxxRNORBgSIG-Vm9fgaJ1T-sIrNU6RNNcutyxCIwVKvH8Ai8AL88XjPFuzS_GDwPDuCAi9p/s400/IMG_6061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371406610380416258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7n0oz6jM9oBqkYs_ECY4rtvnkP-hKUaTJTB48aeKMXBH6rUw-3XCT0icRRAzHo2WL14wOYz_ud0WyXmU4GIFrpfbS1CGFqLmmeu8ewDy3k4guIqpx6hvXxmTk3FraMNAt1nOK/s1600-h/IMG_6077.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7n0oz6jM9oBqkYs_ECY4rtvnkP-hKUaTJTB48aeKMXBH6rUw-3XCT0icRRAzHo2WL14wOYz_ud0WyXmU4GIFrpfbS1CGFqLmmeu8ewDy3k4guIqpx6hvXxmTk3FraMNAt1nOK/s320/IMG_6077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371406240784256418" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWOUkp1mmp0r1A5gVuVJc3HkwY7UIoBMdLybVGJHtFly5CQgMt6JVZOJsfV-YYLhwl4bQ9Iy_qXEIA0cQhR5VqcVz55AD1NtVy0nJwxDSkscV9KSezhSAkIKYUgl89_cLm7deD/s1600-h/IMG_5987.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWOUkp1mmp0r1A5gVuVJc3HkwY7UIoBMdLybVGJHtFly5CQgMt6JVZOJsfV-YYLhwl4bQ9Iy_qXEIA0cQhR5VqcVz55AD1NtVy0nJwxDSkscV9KSezhSAkIKYUgl89_cLm7deD/s320/IMG_5987.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371405994556243426" border="0" /></a>We spent the whole Saturday at the park. It's a zoo, kiddy pool and illimited rides rolled into one. Louna particularly loved riding a horse (not a poney this time!) and taking care of the baby goat. She even cried when we left the goat to its Mom. I was too close to adopting a baby goat, really.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwASr_wXte6pKp20f5ffYssIsdqoHqHhAga-fHv7JgWsoffXdfMbinBwHtNZW4OCPUplxs2DEUZt2CHGfq8tzCBifTIwJliiAh3VvuWw_QSKht77o6hZMB8H61UiBRj3gIfJg8/s1600-h/IMG_6105.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwASr_wXte6pKp20f5ffYssIsdqoHqHhAga-fHv7JgWsoffXdfMbinBwHtNZW4OCPUplxs2DEUZt2CHGfq8tzCBifTIwJliiAh3VvuWw_QSKht77o6hZMB8H61UiBRj3gIfJg8/s400/IMG_6105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371406969138654034" border="0" /></a>The day at the park made the two girls tired and exhausted but that didn't stop us from enjoying local gastronomy. As usual, the girls were behaved inside the restaurant.<br /><br />Sunday started with a short hike around the lake near the camping site. There were a lot of blackberries along the trail which spiced up our little sortie. And since the temperature rocketed to 30°C in the afternoon, the hike ended up with a dip in the water. Even Kyla enjoyed the refreshing break.<br /><br />We then spent the afternoon fishing. Louna was overwhelmed. It was her first time!<br /><br />That little weekend getaway was a relaxing treat. It was like we were still on vacation. This experience won't surely be the last one. <br /><br />Sa uulitin!Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-42874816759771471112009-07-16T21:29:00.012+02:002009-07-17T19:36:07.492+02:00Gorges de Verdon<div align="center"><em>I had been wanting to update this blog since our last leg of adventure but there are other priorities in life that needed to be addressed.. with higher priority! It had been a challenge lately to find equilibrium between work and family - knowing that the balance tended to tilt on the work side and not on the family side. Not a good tendency, really. There were several weeks where I worked like crazy, bringing my laptop to work at home till midnight, during weekends, and even during our vacation. But that crazy period is <s>almost</s> over. I could go back to my normal mode soon. </em><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTgNNKJ_62tcMekUj2-qhmiZmm_iC34_9tfonT2-OdtC-5FauKZOhxrBzykiINoUVZK83HFR8SsJgPRnfd5lUpj9Mwhutb5IA0fBeLhOVV9bjH63_JkbSToNZn0MGSUrgof0F/s1600-h/gorges+du+verdon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359151836969258290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTgNNKJ_62tcMekUj2-qhmiZmm_iC34_9tfonT2-OdtC-5FauKZOhxrBzykiINoUVZK83HFR8SsJgPRnfd5lUpj9Mwhutb5IA0fBeLhOVV9bjH63_JkbSToNZn0MGSUrgof0F/s320/gorges+du+verdon.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpr0l27iE_WbF8gCVt5YhVHd5oEt1EgndrKZ919nBm7vLfEwan6W-xvrk8asLzMSkNksmvfWLl3sZsrNUCPKP8VZ4swB_Msb7CUobRY8TF_FJWGk4zb2LPOieXvPchmxu3cki/s1600-h/gorges+du+verdon+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359154247178704786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpr0l27iE_WbF8gCVt5YhVHd5oEt1EgndrKZ919nBm7vLfEwan6W-xvrk8asLzMSkNksmvfWLl3sZsrNUCPKP8VZ4swB_Msb7CUobRY8TF_FJWGk4zb2LPOieXvPchmxu3cki/s320/gorges+du+verdon+1.jpg" border="0" /></a>So, Gorges du Verdon. The Grand Canyon of France. I think I fell in love with the place - by its beauty and the diversity of activities it propose. There are a LOT of activities to do in this place - trekking, canyoning, biking, canöeing and kayaking to name a few. For us, it was simply heaven.<br /><br />So how does a family of four, with two young girls, could enjoy such adventures?<br /><br />Well, simple. Frenchguy would bike in the morning with some other <em>bakasyonistas</em> while the girls and I sleep till I-don't-know-what-time. After breakfast, we either play at the playground or swim at the pool. We will then start our family activity in the afternoon, after the nap, when the sun is less dangerous. We once rented a boat, a pedalo, to visit the gorges. We hiked several times - once at 3 hours with a 300m elevation change with Louna as the guide (I was too proud of her!). She walked, picked some flowers and followed the yellow trail without a lot of complaining. One of the hikes led us to a tunnel, 600m long where a flashlight was a must. Louna was afraid at first but enjoyed it nevertheless. Now, she knows what a tunnel is. It's dark inside!<br /><br />Aside from the different activities to busy our day, appreciating Verdon's beautiful landscape was also part of the voyage. My camera never stopped clicking.<br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zBetPgn4397a1ihmJAafbMGr0iMZBeMAwSu8IVygBJBSbFaPC0wf-KeVgNsJRQD3ESpa1B04Eu3YcP3tgGp2Gdyvc3T994HpymY2r3u-wnVqGbU2AUTo5XlhrVlEogPV2RXG/s1600-h/gorges+du+verdon+5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359155313862228338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zBetPgn4397a1ihmJAafbMGr0iMZBeMAwSu8IVygBJBSbFaPC0wf-KeVgNsJRQD3ESpa1B04Eu3YcP3tgGp2Gdyvc3T994HpymY2r3u-wnVqGbU2AUTo5XlhrVlEogPV2RXG/s400/gorges+du+verdon+5.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>Lavander farm.</p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVChOeK2TB5s2-sLQm5n8tVJgkanxwkRJkikHLsNFVuAkIq8N6s8TnIFATasp6r8rHYtql_IhQ7VR2r3XC99zkbvnnH0NHjJ6ziGz0xI9-9Qdb1SGmKpdadYQQaqCAtbjjyyf/s1600-h/gorges+du+verdon+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359155193713843378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVChOeK2TB5s2-sLQm5n8tVJgkanxwkRJkikHLsNFVuAkIq8N6s8TnIFATasp6r8rHYtql_IhQ7VR2r3XC99zkbvnnH0NHjJ6ziGz0xI9-9Qdb1SGmKpdadYQQaqCAtbjjyyf/s400/gorges+du+verdon+2.jpg" border="0" /></a> A picturesque hotel where we did not stay hehe.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjeXBSTdQ2-OENfgmvlIfuO5WAd3lOSe3P6r5HpVAnV-RGRf0XtrSAGDWBijRKYV63NVlPI-x6b8IED3ljPMGimeSMDCJNdNdAphSedkWJLgsf5MjweQjuW-Y7eQrmjJQDGWo1/s1600-h/gorges+du+verdon+3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359155069363388402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjeXBSTdQ2-OENfgmvlIfuO5WAd3lOSe3P6r5HpVAnV-RGRf0XtrSAGDWBijRKYV63NVlPI-x6b8IED3ljPMGimeSMDCJNdNdAphSedkWJLgsf5MjweQjuW-Y7eQrmjJQDGWo1/s400/gorges+du+verdon+3.jpg" border="0" /></a> Typical village in Verdon.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrjATWUW-aRRiVsAKvVCCEWb1CBblRQDH0xWqg0vCJ_oll9fUNsuSBwe9zw1oy8UlpzliE5QetJHnZT7C-tXLKtzH4ONr6M1heTXKFP6KNiRKcuVJE4an_cUghzKvkGJjxbAc1/s1600-h/gorges+du+verdon+4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359154709525923426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrjATWUW-aRRiVsAKvVCCEWb1CBblRQDH0xWqg0vCJ_oll9fUNsuSBwe9zw1oy8UlpzliE5QetJHnZT7C-tXLKtzH4ONr6M1heTXKFP6KNiRKcuVJE4an_cUghzKvkGJjxbAc1/s400/gorges+du+verdon+4.jpg" border="0" /></a>Lac de Ste Croix. The turquoise water was too inviting, too bad the temperature was way too low to my tolerance level, lol.</div>Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-43314248676912769942009-06-07T12:23:00.008+02:002009-06-14T13:14:16.623+02:00Chateau-Queyras Weekend<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG8xwNt5qz1Iv83wENPvWgfEcO2Mx5eCAyhGQo9lrQP_zxZgMhUWrp97ShyphenhyphenqQ8NUk11lpf9ZkKBftl90dLMIls43-dWom1zyL1AAc912DWqzOI3kOnBG1JsKx7hTRuVNgE6Kjv/s1600-h/IMG_3946.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG8xwNt5qz1Iv83wENPvWgfEcO2Mx5eCAyhGQo9lrQP_zxZgMhUWrp97ShyphenhyphenqQ8NUk11lpf9ZkKBftl90dLMIls43-dWom1zyL1AAc912DWqzOI3kOnBG1JsKx7hTRuVNgE6Kjv/s200/IMG_3946.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347113968231004738" border="0" /></a>It's been almost a month now since we spent this outdoor-y getaway at the south of France - Queyras National Park. This site is one of my most favorite places here in France. Too beautiful, too wild, too much diversity and too much activities to offer. Frenchguy's friend celebrated his birthday there, and as always, we had activities à la carte to indulge to - hike, bike, via ferrata, kayak, raft, canoë... I won't focus on the menu since it's a man's party, we had sausages, barbeques, beers, wines.. and a lot more wine.<br /><br />We started our adventure with a hike - which the girls adored.<br /><br />Then I did via ferrata.. Frenchguy did the same with another group (because we need a babysitter while the other one does an activity).<br /><br /><center><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEs66fUTIaDbrqX-3a8rccJybtm1GBHnb6Usrjib-yzx-gmVrteFui11s6q5eKL-ehI8ccXYdW7T8m1ckcT1U-FjrrZImWgyJtkGp8yMbB7jUBYuxNZ2-QrSd-RRRnhW7mykd/s1600-h/IMG_6354.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEs66fUTIaDbrqX-3a8rccJybtm1GBHnb6Usrjib-yzx-gmVrteFui11s6q5eKL-ehI8ccXYdW7T8m1ckcT1U-FjrrZImWgyJtkGp8yMbB7jUBYuxNZ2-QrSd-RRRnhW7mykd/s200/IMG_6354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347135073128770754" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiat1J8Y-i28Gwe7LLvBwWwvXkXkbxaKwW-mT9wIJ0b4T67U0ztgA4Tpq9gs20WzHH-w1DHhDKnUVnUBY7nffu5G4cmEps-DLE0PSekzKOMoM2iDGXpEse2VsZEhHvXP7pqoY18/s1600-h/IMG_6351.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiat1J8Y-i28Gwe7LLvBwWwvXkXkbxaKwW-mT9wIJ0b4T67U0ztgA4Tpq9gs20WzHH-w1DHhDKnUVnUBY7nffu5G4cmEps-DLE0PSekzKOMoM2iDGXpEse2VsZEhHvXP7pqoY18/s200/IMG_6351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347134721633309986" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh151a6JQDoQKTC6b5H6Ujzs9_ihXUZ5DSsfThYoh0FXl3Jtai3GHBjef9adq7XtA7vUtPIcpFFp8x5xSGSOT9jxHNimYca5OiTKHrjTUZ3AaZOdZelZ0z9Xw4vg4JEgzCSfFWi/s1600-h/IMG_6318.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh151a6JQDoQKTC6b5H6Ujzs9_ihXUZ5DSsfThYoh0FXl3Jtai3GHBjef9adq7XtA7vUtPIcpFFp8x5xSGSOT9jxHNimYca5OiTKHrjTUZ3AaZOdZelZ0z9Xw4vg4JEgzCSfFWi/s200/IMG_6318.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347134457783212050" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFiNhASLk52PaV7lZVujZ5bM0whcF5khEPPs3EtjxQrn6n11dUzBCACt11rjwK3EA8YMfk8SmmzglmIJgwNZ8EMEe1LePce5H3rTMu17xhmhctuwffD3oZWzsbOV2Z4cDH6yf/s1600-h/IMG_6336.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFiNhASLk52PaV7lZVujZ5bM0whcF5khEPPs3EtjxQrn6n11dUzBCACt11rjwK3EA8YMfk8SmmzglmIJgwNZ8EMEe1LePce5H3rTMu17xhmhctuwffD3oZWzsbOV2Z4cDH6yf/s200/IMG_6336.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347134304489923234" border="0" /></a></center><div style="text-align: center;">And did rafting .. while the girls and Frenchguy were doing siesta.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Qnj_wkPL9B2lOg3ZhFMQASaSVtNc9nw01oKbgxm8xyyZV9QJUu4934hcMbWFEaywCz61-VXIdwcR5R4JBYvyc25vYSH2aU9L69SVABIeFaePXM_fgxPjG8W73l1Ak7rr7NWM/s1600-h/IMGP0673.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Qnj_wkPL9B2lOg3ZhFMQASaSVtNc9nw01oKbgxm8xyyZV9QJUu4934hcMbWFEaywCz61-VXIdwcR5R4JBYvyc25vYSH2aU9L69SVABIeFaePXM_fgxPjG8W73l1Ak7rr7NWM/s320/IMGP0673.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347136153169347730" border="0" /></a>Now, I can't wait for the next adventure.. next stop - Gorge du Verdon, still at the south of France.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-27019989717905430032009-05-13T14:21:00.011+02:002009-05-13T15:19:29.202+02:00Labor Day Getaway<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFsL5WgZ0J0mJdjlVRZXwYs13R0eNcrBeaRm2a89L5PDbvCPmZ1NUfl4QyfRnq_2Y6_stNMdxL9jgux0pTTP_dzZX2gWhw7dQGZU40kQbB_xrff_wGD-aTqKRCslSTJBtogQk/s1600-h/IMG_6239.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFsL5WgZ0J0mJdjlVRZXwYs13R0eNcrBeaRm2a89L5PDbvCPmZ1NUfl4QyfRnq_2Y6_stNMdxL9jgux0pTTP_dzZX2gWhw7dQGZU40kQbB_xrff_wGD-aTqKRCslSTJBtogQk/s200/IMG_6239.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335290444920472978" border="0" /></a>The frenchy family was on a 10-day getaway to escape from work pressures and to savour spring at the seaside with Frenchguy's family. It was perfect. We had the beach for us alone and daily temperatures were fluctuating at levels I love: 6°C in the morning to end at 18°C before the sun sets. Not to cold, not too hot, sunny most of the time and daylight till 9:30pm - need I ask for more?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMYq6fHqSjOpaSN9UTofk57rTUMRCThEUNnSvmTiUStwTYHeuGAyfB5fmepckxwpj3acdpNO5w1KzreDHP5yTwrxUC8rZWenGno1cTbLQjJYp-9GhW9Q4lPB7dGeDwpU9hlJX/s1600-h/IMG_6268.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMYq6fHqSjOpaSN9UTofk57rTUMRCThEUNnSvmTiUStwTYHeuGAyfB5fmepckxwpj3acdpNO5w1KzreDHP5yTwrxUC8rZWenGno1cTbLQjJYp-9GhW9Q4lPB7dGeDwpU9hlJX/s200/IMG_6268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335291098616866850" border="0" /></a>The beach wasn't the one I crave for, of course. No white sands. No coconut trees. Not the tropical temperature. It was more of a fishing haven - rocks covered with algaes, beaches with fishing towers, low tides almost every morning to the delight of villagers and vacationers excited to gather clams, mussels, shrimps or even oysters. There were some mornings when Frenchguy would leave early in the morning to join hoards of fishers, bringing us fresh shrimps. After breakfast, me and the girls would go to the beach to build sand castles while waiting for Frenchguy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlXINCTt9EVED0P8FFIHUq8nNS6HYq5xleX7XGbxW5JdhOWBRRRH1DPtUVKL82yU3FtOYGPqRLRuWbgd6sVvEacSzCoxr1YuNKk2IkfvhqC5cyXGD1U63MN7zqDtAMezKSfRr/s1600-h/IMG_3870.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlXINCTt9EVED0P8FFIHUq8nNS6HYq5xleX7XGbxW5JdhOWBRRRH1DPtUVKL82yU3FtOYGPqRLRuWbgd6sVvEacSzCoxr1YuNKk2IkfvhqC5cyXGD1U63MN7zqDtAMezKSfRr/s200/IMG_3870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335293852001244690" border="0" /></a>The seaside transformed itself into a real beach in the afternoon where some sunbathers started to show more skin, where kite-surfers glided with ease because there were not much tourists and where families like us whiled away our time appreciating the calmness of the place.<br /><br />I thought that this vacation would be a lot complicated because of the two girls. But outdoor lovers as we are, we had time playing along the beach while waiting for sunset (Louna became a fan, she was asking to watch it almost all night!), we had time biking (with Kyla on a baby carrier), we had time to get a good tan (even Kyla whom I tried to protect all the time!) and of course, we had a lot of time eating fresh seafoods!<br /><br />How I wish we could be there more often. But the place is darn too far!<br /><br />The family is really growing tho. How did I know? The car was packed up to the last mm2 that one could ask where we hid the kids.<br /><br />Now, we're back to Dijon. Back to normal activities. See you around.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-32230571074398021892009-04-23T22:30:00.003+02:002009-04-23T22:56:40.226+02:00Kidney For SaleI'm currently watching evening news and current events start to scare me. It started talking about <a href="http://www.lemonde.fr/economie/article/2009/04/11/le-fabricant-de-pneus-continental-ferme-une-usine-en-france-mais-fait-tourner-a-plein-regime-son-site-roumain_1179621_3234.html">Continental shutting down production in Clairoix</a>. Then <a href="http://www.lemonde.fr/la-crise-financiere/article/2009/04/23/a-peine-renflouee-dexia-distribue-8-millions-d-euros-de-bonus-a-ses-dirigeants_1184231_1101386.html">Dexia offering 8M€ bonus to its big boss</a> despite the fact that it was saved from bankruptcy by the government. The heck!<br /><br />And now, I've just heard that <a href="http://www.medindia.net/news/People-of-Spain-Seeking-Cash-for-Organs-To-Overcome-Crisis-50288-1.htm">Spaniards start to to put their organs up for sale on the internet</a> to overcome crisis. I've watched almost the same scenario last week, talking about Indian woman putting their <a href="http://www.webmd.com/infertility-and-reproduction/features/womb-rent-surrogate-mothers-india">womb for rent</a> to couples with reproduction problem.<br /><br />When I hear the same news coming from India, it's some kind of a déjà vu for me. I know that it could happen in that part of the world. But Spain!<br /><br />Don't you think that poverty is like a plague? Then "almost" exclusive to Thirld World Countries. Now gaining more territories in Europe and God-knows-where-else.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-69987126342979543102009-04-19T09:03:00.002+02:002009-04-19T09:06:02.168+02:00Culture Unplugged Video<center><img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI*MDEyNDQ5MjkyNiZwdD*xMjQwMTI*NTc3OTI2JnA9MjY4ODkxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mbz*2NjVkOTM2YTAwZWY*Mzc*ODNhZWEyNGY5ZTc1M2FiZiZvZj*w.gif" /><div style="width:400px"><embed src="http://www.cultureunplugged.com/swf/embedplayer.swf" flashvars="video=http://cdn.cultureunplugged.com/lg/CHICKEN_ALA_CARTE.flv&m=1081&u=0&thumb=http://cdn.cultureunplugged.com/thumbnails/lg/1081.jpg&sURL=http://www.cultureunplugged.com&title=Chicken a la Carte&from=Ferdinand Dimadura" width="400" height="300" quality="high" salign="b" allowScriptAccess="always" allowFullScreen="true" name="cultureUnpluggedPlayer" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" ></embed><div style="margin-top:5px;text-align:center"><a href="http://www.cultureunplugged.com/play/1081/Chicken-a la Carte" target="_blank">View this movie at cultureunplugged.com</a></div></div></center><br /><br />This vid made me teary-eyed. Well, I think I cried. This film moved me. Just watch and see for yourself.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-55882688305856253092009-03-31T22:29:00.003+02:002009-04-01T12:30:35.628+02:00Social Networking - How Does It Affect Your Life?Friendster? Facebook? Anyone?<br /><br />I've heard on the news that an applicant was turned down from a job because the interviewer was looking at his Facebook profile during the interview.. which made his eyes wide open in disbelief.<br /><br />There are two questions floating in my head since I heard the news:<br /><br />- How far would you go in sharing your private life in a public domain such as a social networking site?<br /><br />- Is it legal for an employer to check Facebook profiles? In what incident would a picture affect efficiency at work? What happened to freedom of expression? Do employers take into account that there's private life after work?<br /><br />Ain't this news disturbing? Being fired because you blog about work or you blog at work, ok, I could understand that. But being discriminated because you talk about YOU? Errrr? Kindly explain..Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-88369519643542223952009-03-15T19:10:00.002+01:002009-03-15T19:18:57.700+01:00Messy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy58RioMC99Huiw6NtMTyWn_nKSNG04n6gvx88sDFU4-qdVXJ8G0b4X3mjeGeW4h2dazZobcn5kVnS1Kcf28ao57Cd4gXWJdcUXpBDfePYSqXlnf1fDyZ5Dx9dMTWhErezYq6d/s1600-h/IMG_3080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy58RioMC99Huiw6NtMTyWn_nKSNG04n6gvx88sDFU4-qdVXJ8G0b4X3mjeGeW4h2dazZobcn5kVnS1Kcf28ao57Cd4gXWJdcUXpBDfePYSqXlnf1fDyZ5Dx9dMTWhErezYq6d/s400/IMG_3080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313478800236769762" border="0" /></a>More picture update at <a href="http://privatenursery.blogspot.com/">Ma Crèche Privée</a>.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-37789077666779484502009-03-04T14:35:00.022+01:002009-03-05T22:00:10.919+01:00Bisita Iglesia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFTuV3PfXJ2UQVM9ny-JqRWDCCeM6yOvCUZBiOpVzVD67FudAajsKDuIMjoH_JHpoyhRF9Yta-n5fJ8AdhNPa7d9BTXu6ytc_3r3AEdkhEn7REqoPQSsjqwX_ufSFSFeQ8NFs/s1600-h/IMG_2905.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFTuV3PfXJ2UQVM9ny-JqRWDCCeM6yOvCUZBiOpVzVD67FudAajsKDuIMjoH_JHpoyhRF9Yta-n5fJ8AdhNPa7d9BTXu6ytc_3r3AEdkhEn7REqoPQSsjqwX_ufSFSFeQ8NFs/s320/IMG_2905.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309802660986085314" border="0" /></a>My love for adventure and photography incites me to explore the world around me. What's good about travelling is that you open your eyes to another culture, lifestyle and tradition. I feel more grown up after each travel. I learn something new when I visit another place and Rome wasn't an exception. I learned that by throwing a coin in the <span style="font-style: italic;">Fontana de Trevi</span>, I could guarantee another visit to this lovely place. True enough, last weekend was the 3rd time. And still, I couldn't get enough of what this lively city could offer. One of my favorite activity is to church hop - <span style="font-style: italic;">bisita iglesia</span>. Among the cities I've visited, it's the only place where I saw 3 churches in one <span style="font-style: italic;">piazza</span>. And mind you, even the smallest <span style="font-style: italic;">capella </span>are well decorated and painted - I even saw one painted by Michelangelo himself!<br /><br />I've posted some church pictures below. If you could name each of them, you'll win a free ticket to Rome<span style="font-style: italic;"> (o naniwala ka naman, lol)</span>. Bonus: the last picture is the Pieta, the masterpiece of Michelangelo in St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican City.<br /><center><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNFKdAru1cyGEXKTpiHPjlimkdMWXhhmofyNTVR2VtU1rgoIMAfXg_haOycU2tj_XZ5cReNTa58oj2_Sm1k3ONmeGC8p_DYIbRnCnPVceV8x3xHCBI1cMsRF_HVzim-WmYAX6u/s1600-h/IMG_3029.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNFKdAru1cyGEXKTpiHPjlimkdMWXhhmofyNTVR2VtU1rgoIMAfXg_haOycU2tj_XZ5cReNTa58oj2_Sm1k3ONmeGC8p_DYIbRnCnPVceV8x3xHCBI1cMsRF_HVzim-WmYAX6u/s320/IMG_3029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309792034920420706" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDr0w9YCmOfnTeGCNccMe2gpZgxue4HHcDKlJbKqocLzKnz4DenPPehZGJf_bWtZrh4xEwxC3NgCjPC3QaASrODYWiouBX0dp3gQ2YDf8-Rft0U_T8dOR4rlOj2JrOhmWAW6J/s1600-h/IMG_3023.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDr0w9YCmOfnTeGCNccMe2gpZgxue4HHcDKlJbKqocLzKnz4DenPPehZGJf_bWtZrh4xEwxC3NgCjPC3QaASrODYWiouBX0dp3gQ2YDf8-Rft0U_T8dOR4rlOj2JrOhmWAW6J/s320/IMG_3023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309791851081601954" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7iG59YLYp_w1hCJeoJ-ZZ5h_TMuS65O0tkhOZFhYOZ4bb_ihNRtjWfSRtGwmeueAl_biyiuONzHLfbYdvIMa17-jDv1i0ddtAeVdNAnnplv5yA_49-TzagQeZbF8XasLQL1M/s1600-h/IMG_3007.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7iG59YLYp_w1hCJeoJ-ZZ5h_TMuS65O0tkhOZFhYOZ4bb_ihNRtjWfSRtGwmeueAl_biyiuONzHLfbYdvIMa17-jDv1i0ddtAeVdNAnnplv5yA_49-TzagQeZbF8XasLQL1M/s320/IMG_3007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309791536521165954" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd0BSWrA1hZGqKEG_zU6ZP5WwYUItlUrQbWlQe50fap6egTFPoNsCJpQkwOPQXyOxcMsgpiJOvEyscoWc_0lUKHTDkWe3wibzaPwdbJmrfCW-myeprMKQ-NQfgN5zn_XD18MKE/s1600-h/IMG_2998.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; 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float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCDK6zx_gMUkCkdW2rAYFsX1CJ5ok3htaGlLyOErkBCYQdrnWYxfdfQAN7msSFLYjsqxszRR-kcPzq10XNTOY1QXZZ8K7o5r18TchpP5PFqykB7eaa49GRfyEdVLGcYuSarbwS/s200/IMG_2535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304579974070394482" border="0" /></a>I’m not the romantic type. Take it or leave it. So when Frenchguy gave me the reservation card on one of the most reputed restaurant in Dijon, I started complaining... till he said it’s for me and my mom.<br /><br />Oh (pause). That made me stop complaining… till I realized it’s still Valentine’s Day and it’s still <span style="font-style: italic;">baduy</span>! The complains continued till I finally found a parking space and parked my car - probably a hundred meter from the restaurant! What an idea to go out for dinner on Valentine’s Day!<br /><br />Well, okay. I’ll stop complaining..<br /><br />The restaurant is set in a lovely décor situated in an old wine cellar <strike>at the basement</strike>. The ambiance required a certain level of standing, Burgundy snobbism at its best. I told my Mom, <span style="font-style: italic;">Let them do the job. Just go with the flow.</span> An employee took off our coats and accompanied us to our table. She then pulled the chair back to help us sit comfortably. My Mom started to observe the place, overwhelmed by the thickness of walls surrounding us – not even a bomb could destroy them, me thinks.<br /><br />Dinner was officially announced when the <span style="font-style: italic;">amuse bouche</span> were served. I have this bad habit of counting the hours when I dine in fine restaurants like that (we dined for 3 hours, 6 servings). I also checked the list of wines which almost made me choke. But anyway, I couldn’t take a bottle, I’m driving <strike>palusot pa!</strike>. Each meal were finely prepared, beautifully decorated and well presented. I told my Mom to just smile and say <span style="font-style: italic;">merci </span>pour each explanation of our meal. She then asked me if we could take a picture. I said yes if she wouldn’t mind being looked at - it’s like announcing that we don’t belong there. It’s not a restaurant where common tourist go <strike>only those who want to taste Bourgogne gastronomy at its finest</strike>. With that, she suddenly changed her mind.<br /><br />The conversation was the highlight of the night – it was Valentine-inspired, what else. You wouldn’t believe it but we talked about our ex-es, our crushes, those who courted us, about my Dad and about my Frenchguy. We were like young girls talking about our respective prince charming. My Mom’s 65 year old and so what? Lol.<br /><br />What about you? Anything special on Valentine’s Day?Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-57686711518708565432009-02-11T11:01:00.002+01:002009-02-11T11:11:31.194+01:00YayaWhen Louna’s former nanny announced that she’s pregnant, we felt real happiness for her for around a second. The seconds which followed were realizations of a long process of nanny hiring <span style="font-style: italic;">à la française</span>.<br /><br />A lot of questions were asked on what solution we would take? Will we hire an <span style="font-style: italic;">assistante maternelle </span>(a chid-care provider who could guard 3 kids in her place) like what we did for Louna? That would mean that Louna should eat at the canteen everyday and stay at the nursery after school because that nanny would only take care of Kyla and not Louna. What if we’re both on travel and couldn’t fetch her from school before 6pm (nursery closes at 6pm)? Will we hire another person, a <span style="font-style: italic;">périscolaire</span> to fetch her from school? Another concern is that Louna should stay from 8:30am to 5:30-6pm everyday at school. That’s pretty much for a 3 year old!<br /><br />Though that solution is financially more interesting, the time constraints and the lack of flexibility are frightening us. We progressively looked at another option.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Garde d’enfants à domicile</span>. Yaya almost-pinoy-style (not the stay-in type). Somebody who would take care of the kids in our place. In addition to being a nanny, she would take care of the different household chores like cleaning, ironing and even cooking. Another advantage is that, she could fetch Louna from school at noon and have her lunch at home. Kyla could stay in bed and won’t wake up early in the morning to go to her nanny’s place. We won’t need to hire a cleaning lady.<br /><br />We long hesitated to succumb in this solution because of the economic aspect but after an analysis, the little amount of euro we would add for this option would mean comfort for the whole family.<br /><br />We had been actively pursuing this solution since two weeks now. We posted an announcement at the ANPE (employment agency) which transmitted a good number of CVs and letters of motivation to us. Frenchguy and I started to study the CVs and eliminated those which didn’t reply to our criteria. With that, we were able to cut down the number of candidates to 8. A series of phone interviews followed and 4 of the candidates caught our interest. We will meet them this Thursday and Friday for a face-to-face interview (yes, we will even take a leave for that! – but hey, one of these person would probably take care of my kids.)<br /><br />While studying the CVs, I had this uncomfortable feeling of responsibility knowing that the future of those candidates depended on my decision – especially in this hard moment of economic chaos. There was this African applicant who seemed to be motivated and hardworking but lacked a driver’s license. There was this woman, a former office secretary. She’s almost perfect but I don’t need a secretary! There were women who live far from Dijon but were willing to drive more than 30km to bag the job. There were those young ladies, too young to have job experiences and old enough to have kids of their own.<br /><br />In this selection process, I probably practiced racism and discrimination in one sole objective – that is, to find the best nanny who would take good care of my girls. And that’s one tough job!<br /><br />My Mom is quite overwhelmed of this whole process. Overwhelmed by the fact that we will pay social charges for the nanny, that the candidates are mostly diploma holders specialized in child care, that interviews are even fixed, that even a retired teacher and a secretary applied for the job.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Aba e, sa probinsya namin, wala daw lahat nyan no.</span>Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-5549291002095645652009-02-06T16:49:00.002+01:002009-02-06T17:26:29.494+01:00Almost WidowFrenchguy almost fainted last week while playing squash. His left arm felt numb, he had difficulty aiming the ball, he lost equilibrium then thought his toungue was bloated (he had difficulty talking). Somebody applied first aid on him and when he thought he was okay, he then threw up everything he had for lunch.<br /><br />He had doppler examination the next day which showed that his left vertebral vein was clogged. He had anti-coagulants from then on. His head was scanned two days ago which showed that everything was normal. Everybody's relieved with the results, and him, he's again thinking of pursuing sports.<br /><br />Everybody at work knew about the news. No wonder, he played with a colleague. Here's some <span style="font-style: italic;">sympathizing</span> conversations with them:<br /><br />Colleague 1: So, the poison's starting to take effect?<br /><br />Colleague 2: I heard that you're almost a widow. Too sad. Try again next time.<br /><br />Colleague 3: Did he already sign the heritage certificate?<br /><br />Colleague 4: Whoa! You'll be single again!<br /><br />After the brain scan:<br /><br />Colleague 5: At least now, he has an evidence that he's got a brain.<br /><br />That's French humour! I reply them with the same humour, of course, and now they describe me as a young happy widow.<br /><br />But kidding aside, that incident made me realize all the more that I'm a foreigner in this country. I don't even know my rights in full detail. And how would I proceed if something bad happens? Will I stay in the same house? How will I take care of the garden? I don't even know how to start the lawn mower! How will I do with the kids without any family around? What if I need to travel because of work? And would I be able to keep my job inspite of the economic crisis? What if? Will I stay in France?<br /><br />Nah! Too much questions unanswered. I told Frenchguy that he's still not allowed to go <strike>but should sign the heritage blahblahs, lol.</strike><br /><br />PS: Frenchguy's doing great and says HI.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-32242181014221703442009-01-30T21:53:00.004+01:002009-01-30T22:34:11.707+01:00Visa Extension No MoreI'm quite disappointed today. We had been checking our calendar this week and I felt a bit sad knowing that March 15 is nearing. That's my Mom's departure date. Sad because we really hadn't visited that much because of the cold weather, Kyla's age, and moi busy at work. All I could offer her was a freezing day at Paris Disneyland a day after her arrival here, a weekend at Bourg St Maurice next week <strike>the mountains. no, she won't ski, don't worry</strike>, a weekend in Rome end of February and a busy daily schedule with the two girls.<br /><br />With my boss' question whether I could go to the Philippines in the coming weeks <strike>just for a week and I could say NO because of my family situation. he told me he would understand</strike>, I thought I'd take a chance and ask for a visa extension for my Mom. It would be more comfortable if my Mom's here while I'm on travel, considering Kyla's age. I asked Frenchguy to go the Prefecture <strike>because I know they'll be more honest with a French citizen</strike> to see any possibility but the answer was negative. The only possible reason for a visa extension is if my Mom's seriously sick. Ayoko nga!<br /><br />Anybody here in France who had the same experience recently? So the news is true? It's really that strict here now? How is it in your country?Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-43281019795809804352009-01-24T10:26:00.002+01:002009-01-24T10:49:13.534+01:00Kiddo UpdateBusy. That's the adjective that best describes me at the moment. Having two kids and a job is no joke. That means bathing and feeding two kids after work. In short, take everything about motherhood multiplied by two. The answer is exponentially overwhelming.<br /><br />But I cannot charge my absence in the blogging world all in motherhood, there's also the fact that I love chatting with my Mom. She starts to repeat stories though, not enough chismis for a 3-month stay. I think she needs to go back home to gather more chismis to tell me, lol.<br /><br />Job contributes to that adjective too. But I cannot complain. It's somewhat rewarding. Remember about my <a href="http://myhideaway04.blogspot.com/2008/12/end-of-maternity-leave.html">award</a>? Well, I already received it and contrary to what I thought, I didn't tremble when I delivered my speech. But I jokingly told my boss that I will work less efficiently this year because I hate high heels and speeches. He laughed and congratulated me, told me that my speech was great and that's just a start of a more fruitful career. Frenchguy see more € signs now, lol.<br /><br />But do you know what's more rewarding than certificates decorating my office? See what the girls could do at their <a href="http://privatenursery.blogspot.com/2009/01/louna-writes-kyla-laughs.html">crèche privée</a>. I'm a proud Maman.Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-91600393713144112282009-01-07T09:49:00.004+01:002009-01-07T16:45:22.016+01:00First Day at WorkYes. I'm again on work mode. Since Monday. And already busy.<br /><br />I spent almost my whole day in our conference room on my first day. 9:30am to 1:30pm talking about strategies on how to decrease production cost. 2:30pm to 5:00pm talking about a new project I'll be working on. My wonderful bosses filled up time slots in my outlook calendar even before I arrived. The big boss was even reminding me that he needed to talk to me on another subject but that could still wait till next week. What a day! I missed the traditionnal morning and afternoon <span style="font-style: italic;">café</span> where almost everybody gather in a small room sipping their hot coffee or tea talking about all kinds of nonsense except work.<br /><br />The next day, Tuesday, my supposed-to-be meeting at 10:00am was luckily cancelled and moved to Thursday. I had time deleting and reading unimportant messages. Important messages were kept aside thinking I'll have time today at home to read some messages (I won't work every Wednesdays to take care of my kids). But nah, I have too much stuffs to do at home too. It's now 4:00pm here and I haven't opened my work laptop yet. I'll try later when the kids are in bed (they're now taking a nap), I need to prepare my meeting tomorrow.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGygFPOeRj_0rCn_p1rmeCArZRGsjcSOWLY3OfoMWiWgX2vo8TS-ikGoQZW1HHoTtHSip182nnKl6P09jbsHo-JzMlDqEVjOZ3K2BGam39smTFXV-vHV7EFVzFGdGuU3syyuqt/s1600-h/IMG_2139.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 126px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGygFPOeRj_0rCn_p1rmeCArZRGsjcSOWLY3OfoMWiWgX2vo8TS-ikGoQZW1HHoTtHSip182nnKl6P09jbsHo-JzMlDqEVjOZ3K2BGam39smTFXV-vHV7EFVzFGdGuU3syyuqt/s200/IMG_2139.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288572912968000226" border="0" /></a>Going back on my first day, it's funny how my colleagues greeted me. After the usual <span style="font-style: italic;">beso beso</span> followed by classic new year greetings like <span style="font-style: italic;">bonne année</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">bonne santé</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">meilleur voeux</span>, almost all of them striked a quick glance on my tummy and said nothing. <span style="font-style: italic;">Mga usi, lol.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">PS: Picture on the left is the only picture of me last Christmas. I'm always behind the cam. Don't be fooled tho. Remember a lot of years ago when Baguio was hit by an earthquake? Where roads and buildings were heavily cracked and damaged? Let's say it was intensity 7.6 on the Richter scale. My abdomen looks like it was hit by an intensity 8. Heavily cracked and damaged.</span>Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-60066805491132767552008-12-21T12:17:00.001+01:002008-12-21T17:19:43.367+01:00Merry Christmas !!!<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT07fBkI-UG0iAY82JaDXBWZ-84bxAVCYI-dJ8bIF0czySs6s-pKQCAVZsjiMGXSvD6dXhXEJoK_vKINLvHjeYlmD88a8yxo_-Lk7N1OI1mCxs-2o3h9vywpwShJfJRrL7Cyzl/s1600-h/xmas+2008+a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT07fBkI-UG0iAY82JaDXBWZ-84bxAVCYI-dJ8bIF0czySs6s-pKQCAVZsjiMGXSvD6dXhXEJoK_vKINLvHjeYlmD88a8yxo_-Lk7N1OI1mCxs-2o3h9vywpwShJfJRrL7Cyzl/s400/xmas+2008+a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282201174159283890" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Credits: Quick Page by Jennifer Schmitt</span></div>Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-43869223603719857142008-12-18T14:55:00.004+01:002008-12-18T15:39:34.513+01:00End of Maternity LeaveTime flies! Not only is Kyla growing, work is also waiting. Would you believe it, I'm supposed to get back to work next Monday, December 22! That's exactly Kyla's 3rd month and the official re-start of my career life. Darn!<br /><br />But nah! I won't start work before Christmas. Ayoko nga. I'll take some paid leave. I sent an email to my boss yesterday to officially inform him and at the same time ask him to sign a leave form for me. Formality side, I need to sign that form for insurance purposes. And since I opened my work email account through web access, I continued browsing through the pages to keep up with what's happening at work <strike>well,to be honest, I've been opening my account from time to time</strike>. To sum up, my project didn't progress as I hoped it to be and my calendar started to fill up. I know that I need to meet up with a Thai colleague on January 12, a meeting on this and that date and so on. I then continued deleting a love email from our system administrator informing me that my inbox reached its maximum limit. Nonsense. I again continued browsing, opening only those unimportant messages like my boss buying me a backpack for my laptop. That's cool.<br /><br />An email about winners and awards was also there but I ignored. Our department is organizing a yearly contest on practices and projects which yield great benefits for the company. It's on a global level so it's a good way to know what our Asian and American colleagues do while we drink our coffee here in France, lol. Frenchguy called me up last night to congratulate me <strike>he's again on work travel. he found the best method to get away with dirty diapers and nursing kyla at night</strike>. Apparently, I won one of the awards. It's a project I did in collaboration with my favorite Thai colleague.<br /><br />My reaction? Darn! I hate it. I don't work to get awards. I just do what I need to do. Period. Now, I need to go to Paris dressed up I-don't-know-how to dine in a private museum or I-don't-know-where with the big bosses and deliver a speech on how we got such great results. All that to get an award! The problem is, I'm not used wearing formal dresses <strike>I love my shirts and jeans!</strike> and I hate speeches. And if it's delivered in French, my, get ready with my terrible accent. I have stage fright!<br /><br />Hayy, ang laki ng problema ko no?Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8120071.post-42620014822593689432008-12-11T10:39:00.002+01:002008-12-11T11:28:05.958+01:00BaduyLouna starts to have her own fashion sense. She would oftentimes exige the clothes she wants to wear and this morning wasn't an exception. So to not to lose a lot of time, I asked her to prepare herself for school (she knows how to wear almost all types of clothes, except t-shirts). After wearing the clothes she chose, she asked me <span style="font-style: italic;">ça va, maman?</span> (is it alright, mama?). I looked at her and wasn't able to stop myself from laughing. She then asked me, <span style="font-style: italic;">baduy, maman?</span> That, really made me laugh!Analysehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01987716470001114251noreply@blogger.com14