30 Jul 2013

Summer holiday part I - en France

Vive la France! I want to write how wonderfully relaxed I am, how much I found calm and acceptance in the tranquil and remote location. I didn't and I did. As with seemingly everything in life, some days were better than others. Upon returning yesterday, I went overboard and overate a lot. My mind is obsessing about my weight gain and in my mind I keep on seeing some of our holiday snaps on replay and all I focus on are the wobbly bits, rather than how I felt then (which was fantastic).

I'm finishing this post after having returned from holiday part II already and in hindsight, I am remembering the good and lovely parts more than the obsessive parts. Our holiday was at a beautiful private lake we had just to ourselves and we stayed in this cabin that had no TV, internet, electricity and was heavenly remote.
Our cabin
After getting used to the fact that water could only be heated via the wood-burning oven and took about 45 minutes to reach shower-ready temperatures, that the bathroom contained a composting toilet (that means no flushing and basically doing a number 2 into a separate container and then sprinkling some saw dust over it in the hope it won't smell too much) and that no electricity meant no electricity, we slipped into a calming routine.

Each morning, I would wake up and put the fire on, even though it might be already a warm 19 degrees outside, so that we could have a warm shower of precisely 4 minutes each. Otherwise, the warm water was gone and the last person was just shit outta luck. I would then put the kettle on for the coffee and whilst the British Boy would not join, I would amazon-like paddle out onto our lake on the raft, let my sleek body glide into the cool water in a nymph like fashion and go for a relaxing and meditative swim. Ok, reality check - I balanced awkwardly on the raft, lowering myself down onto the side stabilizers like a shaky grandma and, with more or less of a splash, allowed gravity to roll me into the water. The swim was out of this world though - the sun glistening on the water surface, pond skaters scooting out of my way, one morning a heron majestically gliding over the tree tops and the early morning bird song. I always left feeling refreshed and grounded and light and right.

The lake
Food-wise, France is just paradise. I left with the resolution to stick to three meals and one snack a day and overall, was successful - it made me realise how often I still pick at stuff. A cherry here, a carrot there, some popcorn in between meals, even though I don't need it. It wasn't easy and I think I used our meals in restaurants as an excuse to splurge as a result. Well, it truly showed me that I can do three meals without or with just 1 snack and that I feel good sticking to that.

For the most part, we catered for ourselves with healthy food:
Breakfast of greek yoghurt, oats, nectarine and strawberries with almond slivers. Coffee too!

Modified Ploughman's lunch.
We had rented bicycles and cycled to a near bathing lake, where we had enjoyed picnics and ice creams (my snack).

During our first day at that lake - we returned almost every day - we ordered a surprisingly substantial chicken salad. On the side, we had French fries with ketchup that reminded me of hot sunny afternoons in a lido of my childhood.
Chicken salad
We ate a surprisingly large amount of fois gras and a lot of salads, it was quite hot.
Salad, Fois Gras, cheese, olives and smoked duck.
The bathing lake also had a wonderful restaurant, which we actually managed to go to twice because the food was yummy, not too pricy and the waitress was lovely.
View from the restaurant

Rocket and Parmesan salad

Entrecote of veal

Sides of potatoes, green veg and a jus.
Carpaccio starter on our second visit - out of this world!

There was a huge market in the nearest city Piegut on the Wednesday, and we got fresh cod, which the British Boy prepared for me.
Cod, a stack of aubergine and courgette with a tomato sauce and stuffed mushrooms. A slice of bread on the side to mop up the juices.
We also went further afield to explore some of the recommended places to visit. Brantome was a cute town with bags of charm and the restaurant Au fil de l'eau came highly recommended. I only took a picture of my starter of cuttlefish with chorizo and in my excitement forgot to take one of the main.
Cuttlefish,


In my mind, we would be cycling to the nearest village each day, getting croissants for breakfast and having relaxed long brunches. In reality, we got very sweaty, arrived at the bakery to be told they were out of croissants and had to make do with the little food we had left in our gas-powered fridge (which takes forever to cool a beer, let alone a bottle of champagne!). Not ones to be disheartened, I deployed my barely existent French, stumbled through 'je voudrais deux croissant et un pain au chocolate pour demain' and returned stubbornly the next day on my bike in the hopes the kind baker had understood what I had tried to order.

Lo and behold, they had and I rode back triumphantly with my cargo carefully stowed away in my backpack like the treasure it was. Breakfast on our second to last day was croissant and fresh fruit. I felt like a true French woman.

Oui, je parle Francais.

Fruit

Fruit of my labour and my abysmal French

 
Looking back over these pictures now, I would love to go back and have a morning swim in the quiet lake or lie on the raft at night, watching the sky and looking for shooting stars.

8 Jul 2013

Summertime and living is still hard sometimes

The sun was out and I soaked up the energy. It's Sunday night as I write this and I feel knackered. In a good way.
 
After the lovely Friday night, we prepped for our dinner party. That is, the British Boy stayed at home and cooked and I got my hair cut and highlighted, walked back from Central London with a fellow and sat outside with a frittata made with kale from our garden and a salad of rocket and spinach from our garden too.
Kale, prosciutto, zucchini frittata and salad with cherry tomatoes.

And then this happened:
 
I am getting very obsessive about what Max is preparing, how he is preparing it and how much of it I will eat. I saw all the yummy stuff he bought and I don't want to miss out. My body gets tight and tense when I think about how I will interact with the food. And then I think about how dissatisfied I am with my body at the moment and that makes me sad, because I can see that it's not nice to myself, and I'm angry because I cannot see a way out that thinking. It's uncomfortable and it won't go away. My hearts desire is to accept that it is how I feel and that I don't try and force myself to suppress it or move on, and move through it however long it takes. I am worrying more about the food than the chance to have a great evening and connect and have fun with friends. I am looking forward to seeing them, enjoying their company. 
After I had written that, I tried on a pair of trousers for the party. Oh, the mayhem that ensued!
I cried and felt so angry at myself after realizing I didn’t fit in yet another pair of trousers; I was drawn into a pit of self-pity and despair and just didn’t see a way out. Max tried to give me comfort and console me, which I was unable to accept. Then friends came over and I started feeling better. I stuck imperfectly to my food plan and am ok with it. 
 
Today, I woke up feeling not nearly as hung over as the other people, went for a run and got already quite a few things done. It’s a wonderful day and I am looking forward to whatever will come my way.

Summertime