La Parisienne No.9

Fine, I need to get my head back into the game. La rentrée has begun in France and I am back in Paris. Yes, let's get real.

What better way than to kick-start myself into Parisian routine than a run around town with 25'000 other ladies? It's called La Parisienne. It happens every year and is considered the biggest female running race in Europe. Beyond the sporting challenge, La Parisienne is also a charity race, raising money for breast cancer research.

This year's theme for some bizarre reason was the American Far West.

Way back in 2011 it was the first activity I plunged myself into when we had just moved to Paris. I figured I might as well start with a bang.

I ran the race alone the first couple of years because I do prefer to run by myself. However, over the years it has become the perfect excuse for my girlfriends (who have since moved to their next destination) to return to the city of lights and visit. We make a girlie weekend out of it and it has become one of the highlights of my year... along with the rooftop yoga!

The Far West comes to the heart of the French capital

Early bird to register

Ready to go!

Iconic start beneath the Eiffel Tower

Mums and daughters this year... so chuffed Expat Girl is joining me

A few lost cow girls

A well-deserved Parisian lunch "entre copines"

The good and the bad

Over the summer holidays, I found myself more than once comparing our life in Paris to the summers we spend in Spain. I cannot help but notice that I have spent two months with:

- NO rain
- NO make up
- NO sweaters
- NO complaining Parisians
- NO navigating cobblestones in high heels
- NO monotone wardrobe in shades of grey
- NO slaloming around dog poop on pathments
- NO strikes
- NO Gilets Jaunes

instead I have:

- a fabulous tan
- enjoyed blue skies all day every day
- lived with open windows night and day
- eat breakfast on the terrace EVERY morning
- lived in sandals and flip flops
- wore summer dresses and shorts all the time
- bathed in hot weather
- drank lots of good and affordable cava (sparkling wine) and Sangria
- every airport run took 15 min for drop off and pick up (instead of one hour!)
- held dinner parties with friendly neighbours until 4 am (that has NEVER happened in Paris)
- hung out with my gang of unconditional girlfriends (who all wore colourful prints)
- gained 3 kilos

... and I can't wait to go back. Hasta luego España!

Oh dear, I can't remember

38B76? 83A67? Gosh, I can't remember my door code.

How long is too long? The sensation hits me of how good it feels not being sure where home is anymore: here or there. Proof that the past weeks have been a true change of scenery.

After a long summer holiday and a 12 hour return drive from Madrid to Paris I am standing in front of the main entrance to our lovely Haussmann building -  symbol of the 19th century - wondering how to enter: I cannot for the life of me remember the door code!

Hoisting all my luggage onto the landing after having squeezed myself into the minuscule wooden elevator, I fish for the apartment keys at the very bottom of my handbag, between the sunglasses and the Spanish fan.

I recognize the familiar cracking of the paquet floor as I step through the door. I open the window and look on to the beautiful buildings all around but cannot see any pools or sandy beaches. I look down over my balcony railing to see people rushing up and down the road, cars honking and someone complaining so loudly I can hear him up to the 5th floor.

The good news is: it's not raining!

So, Paris, what are we doing together this year?

Heading North 1270km

When 4 equals happiness

Our Ibiza adventure has come to an end. Heavy heartedly I wave goodbye to Expat hubby and daughter who are off to Paris before I pack up the flat and head to Madrid the next day to enjoy one last week with Expat boy. Our timing does not quite coincide since he is partying with his friends - making the most of seeing each other before they all travel to different countries to continue their university studies - but we manage to have late lunches together and if I'm lucky we'll enjoy dinner before he hits town.

I consider myself lucky we have managed a three week family vacation. Funny, what seemed totally normal a few years ago has now turned into a luxury. It was normal to book four tickets from one place to another, now a great deal of coordination goes into each get-together with different schedules and various locations. Parents' planning needs to fit in with kids' wishes to spend some holidays with their friends and joining humanitarian programmes. Again, I feel lucky our kids even want to hang out with us... honestly, I would probably give them the Italian-Mamma-guilt-Spiel if they didn't but they don't need to know that ... yet!

So yes, happiness is realising what you have WHILE you have it and I couldn't be happier. It has been a month with family, friends, lots of sunshine, exploring new beaches and enjoying delicious fresh grilled fish accompanied by a steady flow of chilled Terras Gauda, the local Spanish white wine.

It is time to say "hasta luego" but we'll be back soon. Promise!

The true fun side of Ibiza

How to define Ibiza? It is fun, it can be casually elegant, it is definitely hippy and its is artsy. There is no doubt you are on vacation since the island vibes are omnipresent, it feels carefree, joyful and adventurous.

Hippie markets, open air festivals, beach parties, sunset happy hours, yoga sessions at sunrise and vibrant colours greeting you everywhere. Going with the vibe all you need is some gorgeous flowing beachwear and edgy accessories: sunglasses, bags, baskets, scarfs, purses, hats, bracelets, earrings, you name it, anything goes to help you style up Ibicenca way.

The style of the island's architecture is also fascinating. White colour is usually used but some funky pink constructions have caught my eye... obviously! Reduced size of windows and their lack of symmetry adds an artsy touch to the traditional Ibiza "finca". 

Another traditional technique that surprises with its ingenuity is the use of wood, ash, remains of oceanic posidonia and clay to insulate and waterproof the roofs of typical Ibizan houses.

The bioclimatic adaptation, the sustainability of the construction and the shift towards minimalism are three key elements for the traditional Ibiza house that continue to set the trend. 

And despite Ibiza's reputation as a party island, the best part is that there are still a few unknown spots where you can enjoy some peace and quiet... which is all you need for some artistic inspiration!

Paradiso - an entirely pink hotel

Looks cool even without windows

A touch of colour does miracles

Flower-power adaptation

Anything goes as long as it's an accessory

And this is the commercial stuff

A well-travelled beach bag

This is what lunch should look like every day of the year

Small windows, big plants

When your bike is too old to use it becomes art

My 5 cents!

Even a wall can turn into inspiration... as long as it's pink!

Make sure you peek "insAide"

Ibiza in black and white

Ibiza summer moments

Early morning swim

Es Vedra: a magical island 

Surfer waves

A beach to ourselves

Meditation while avoiding the jellyfish

Searching for Atlantis

Happiness!

Felicità means Happiness

Ten years ago it would have been a regular school pickup and drive to the various extra curricular activities. A car full of kids - two of mine and however many friends could fit - singing Italian classics at the top of our lungs.

It used to be the busiest part of the day - every day - chauffeuring around town while making sure everyone would be home for bath time and somehow manage to serve dinner before 8pm.

Fast forward to today and I have a car full of kids - all whom are taller than I - and I am savouring every minute of this ride. Little do they know how much I miss these moments when loud chaos equals fun and everyone is talking at the same time. Giggling, teasing, singing and shouting in the old familiar way as you do when you get together with your friends and family.

My children have turned into young adults and are mostly independent. They certainly don't need Mummy any longer to bring them to their activities but lucky me I still get to drive them around during the holidays.

It is during these cherished moments when you realise how precious a 30-minute car ride across the island of Ibiza can be, when all its passengers sing "Volare" and "Felicità" at the top of their voices. Little does it matter they don't speak Italian they have learnt the lyrics during our car rides after school over all those years... and I am the happiest person on earth!

Happy Ferragosto

Mangia, mangia...

Too busy suntanning and enjoying the summer holidays, there is not much blogging happening. 

Part of the Ibiza experience is, of course, the food. Nothing fancy, nothing sophisticated, just healthy, delicious National Spanish cuisine and some goodies you cannot live without...

Pan con Aioli... an Iberian aperitivo "must-have" con cava naturalmente

THE Spanish dish "par excellence": la paella

A quick and easy dinner à la dolce vita: pasta con pesto

Expat Girl's favourite ice cream parlour

A typical Spanish digestive: chupito de hierbas

Fresh baked French croissants and pains au chocolat... how did they arrive on our table?

Feeling peckish on the beach