French Frisbee Lesson

Frisbee is amazing. French frisbee is even better.

For all of you out there who have not tried Ultimate Frisbee, it's time. I have played a lot of sports over the years (soccer, basketball, netball, tennis, swimming, diving, waterpolo, rowing, roller hockey, ice skating, ballet, swing dancing, hand dancing, salsa dancing, gymnastics, trampolining, yoga, rock climbing, ultimate frisbee, and kickball are the ones that come to mind) . . . of these, only Ultimate Frisbee has been consistently fun and happy.

There is no referee, and there is a system for adjudicating disputes. Each team I've played for has welcomed new people who don't know how to play. And at the end of the game, it's most likely that in some countries you'll sing the other team a goofy song to say thank you for the game, play a short children's game, or in others, you'll sit down and talk about everything the other team did that was great. It's like living with Mr. Rogers, but less creepy. And after that, you're more than likely to go out for beer or ice cream.

Here in France, I've joined the Montpellier Lez Héraultimates team. It's a mix of levels, and they do actual practices (a new thing for me, this practicing). I've gone with them to Bordeaux for a tournament, and another to Palavas to the beach. This weekend we're off to an indoor tournament somewhere near to Avignon.

And if you're also in the mood to mix it up, why not attempt to play in French. Here is some vocabulary to keep you on your toes. All the best . . . et en jeu.

L'Ultimate                   Ultimate

les règles                     the rules
le match                      the game
les équipes                  the teams
un équipier                  a teammate
les joueurs/joueuses    the players
le défenseur                 the defender
receveur                      receiver
remplaçant                   substitute
souliers à crampons    cleets/boots

un pied pivot               pivot foot
le revers                      the backhand
le coup droit               the forehand
le renversé                  the hammer
un appel                      a call (people use this to describe a cut)

validation                    check disc
contrôle                       check feet

le terrain                      the field
le sol                            the ground/dirt
les limites                    the boundaries
la zone                         the zone
le but de jeu                the end line
les lines                       the lines
le disque                      the disk
le force                        the force

en jou                          disc in
envoyer le disque        to send the disc
lancer long                  to huck
réceptionner                to receive
intercepter                   to intercept
passe arrière                dump
changement                 switch
comptant                     stalling
attraper le disque         to catch the disc
marquer                       to mark
marquer un point         to score
faute                            foul

More rugby than I've ever watched in my life.

So, as a football/soccer kid, I grew up with an irrational dislike for rugby. That, and the fact that our entire country goes entirely insane over All Blacks matches and regional games alike meant that I never really paid much attention to the game.

Being here in France, in one of the big rugby cities, during the Coupe du Monde . . . I had to represent New Zealand, and represent I did.

For the pool games, I watched with my flatmate Luc, or with friends. There were even New Zealand pancakes to be had.

One particular match I watched out of the back of a car before a frisbee tournament. . .

For the final, there was more on the line. I invited a group of friends to come to a local Irish bar with me to watch the game, and return afterwards for food, games, and festivities.

There were half a dozen or so of us watching the game at the bar, and then 20 or so for the celebrations (9:30am being a little early for most on the weekend).

Luc and I went all face painted up . . . 

The bar had about 4 New Zealand supporters and 300 French. It was a little hard to be heard.

For awhile there the French were pretty excited and thinking they were going to be victorious (while I bit my fingernails).

They even sent around a rooster at celebratory moments. Calls of Allez Les Bleus resounded around the bar.

In then end, the whole thing was pretty civil. The French clapped both teams at the end of the game, and I got sprayed with champagne by Georg and Laura. My voice did not return to normal for three days, and I was briefly worried that I'd permanently damaged it.

While I'm not going to be a rugby follower, I feel more able to appreciate it. Since these games I've even gone to the local stadium and watched Montpellier play live. Who knew.

Go the All Blacks!

The Tour de France

I hadn't planned on going to the Tour de France. However, I was in the heart of Toulouse, and talk was all of the Tour. It was going to be fairly close to the city for two days of racing, and all of my hostel mates were planing on going. Around the city you could see promotional vehicles and support staff. Bicycles were far higher in number than I had been seeing up until then.

I decided to join my hostel mates on the second day of watching the tour, on a leg in the Pyrenees. Bel and Adam from Australia, had rented a car to be able to go sit at the summit of the race, and watch the cyclists as they shifted from climbing to descending at speed. To get to the race was a bit of a mission, having 6 maps, none of which were at a good scale, or inclusive of the whole route. With a combination of stress and map-reading terror, and following a swag vehicle, we managed to make our way there.

As we got closer, the air of festivity increased. People where making their way in all manners--on foot, on bike, motorcycles, cars, caravans/mobile homes. It was a temporary city on the top of a mountain range. Picnics, wine, and deck chairs were out in numbers.

We sat ourselves on the top of a hill, bought hotdogs of sorts from an enterprising vendor, and proceeded to wait 5 hours before the race actually started (they close off the access roads at a certain time, so we had to be there very early). About 2 hours before the race the caravans with free hats, food, and general junk came along the route, which helped to break up the time.

I enjoyed watching all of the race-goers almost as much as the participants.

As the time got even closer, flags were brought out, photographers on motorcycles zoomed past to get situated for that perfect shot, and helicopters started to circle like vultures.

And then, it was on. The race!

And then it was over before I knew it. I still don't know who was leading, what the strategies were, or any of the details that really make a sporting event interesting. But I had a lovely time with Bel and Adam chatting and experiencing a new event. To be perfectly honest, the thing I was most excited about was to be at that elevation on the Pyrenees without having to cycle it myself! A beautiful view, and really makes me appreciate all those people who walk it as part of the pilgrim trail every day, and those in the past who had to cross it for less leisurely reasons.

Green Toulouse

I spent my first day in Toulouse wandering all of the green areas. I don't know why. I had a map with tons of little x's and circles around sites and possibilities, and something about those green expanses just sucks me in.

So, to start with I wandered towards Toulouse's Japanese gardens. The first thing that interested me about the Japanese garden was its placement. The designs of Japanese gardens are so structured and careful, that I found it interesting that this garden is located within a larger park that is for the most part quite wild. Groves of trees and planted flowerbeds of prairie grasses and wild flowers ring this formal, specific construction.

The Japanese Garden was designed and constructed/planted in 1981 as a place for meditation within the city. In the center is a tea house and a lake, which is crossed by a red bridge--representing one's journey to paradise.

The teahouse holds some lovely displays and descriptions of the meaning behind each aspect of the garden's design and placement. The garden is designed to highlight the passing of seasons. Different flora will dominate at different times, purposefully. The vegetation, water features, and rocks or minerals are three elements that were designed to work together to create a whole. And aspects of the garden represent Japan in its entirety, a small hillock of land to elude to Mount Fuji, etc. In Japanese design pools can represent lakes, rocks denote mountains, and raked sand can mean oceans. If you want to learn more about Japanese garden design, I found this site really interesting.

After that, I headed towards the canals. Getting momentarily distracted by architectural features as I went. What's with the cat dragon sitting on the man's head and the Labyrinth-style hand knocker?

Down by the canal is something my map called la Prairie des Filtres. In fact, when I arrived, everything was marked "Toulouse Plage" or Toulouse Beach. Now, beach is stretching the truth if ever I heard it, but regardless of that fact, it was a bit of a kid's wonderland. From what I gather, the Toulouse Plage operates for the months of summer, and I'd arrived only a few days after it had opened up for the year. I couldn't believe how many different sports and games options I could see in every direction.

There was ping pong and volleyball.

A sand pit, and a sand football/soccer pitch (now that looked like fun). I guess allowing them the use of the term "beach."

There was jungle gym equipment.

Chess (I love how stressed out the man looks to whatever move the small boy in front of him just placed).

Small games of all descriptions.

It looked like a great place for a family or a bunch of kids to spend the day.

After that I wandered past two or three more gardens on my way home, but alas, I got tired of the camera-making. SO, you'll just have to visit yourselves to see those.

Leaving the bee farm

Before I left the farm I did a quick run around, documenting  many of the other things that I got to do during my stay here.

There was land to till, and beans to sow.

Tomatoes to pick.

Wood to stack.

Hives to clean.

Hives to stain.

 

Posters and maps and signs and sundry to paint and design. Of course :)

Honey to fill and stack and label and pack. And if you haven't tasted sunflower (Tournesol) honey, I highly recommend it. Liquid sun, for sure.

Kids to entertain. Louna and I currently hold the record for their version of raquet ball. 96 hits in a row, keeping the ball from bouncing on the ground.

Dinners to prepare and eat and clean up from. Mainly eat, Dany was the chef of the household. (Alan, Manon served you your portion on a little spoon--not wanting you to miss out, even though you'd already left).

And some parting images of the pyrenees in the wintertime--with the ruins of the local castle in the foreground, and the hives mid summer amongst the tournesol (photos by Stephanie).

And it looks like I'll be returning in September, because Dany and Stephanie have decided to get married. They've been together for 15? years, and when I asked why they decided to do it now, they told me I'd have to return for the marriage to find out. So I guess I will. There's to be a local band playing, and traditional dance lessons in the afternoon. I got to be the first, or amongst the first to see both outfits. Fun times with the locals :)