Ladies and gentlemen, it was true. Kids do grow up.
Moving to a new country is one of these big decisions where your life can get awesomely better, awfully worst or more realistically, waver between these two extreme case scenarios.
I’m standing in the middle of the schoolyard and Mark is holding my hand very tightly. He probably thinks that like a balloon, I’m going to fly away the moment he lets it go.
Lunar worshipers, grab a bite of mooncake, chew it, then repeat after me: “中秋节快乐!”
I almost missed the French éducation nationale. Sure, like millions of students, I regularly protested various education reforms over the years, but at least the ministry’s communication efforts were consistent and on a national basis.
The joke is on me now—I have just flown with literally two kilos of salt in my luggage.
A few days before the unavoidable departure, it still feels unreal to think that Monday, we are in France and on Tuesday, we will be in Canada. My brain can’t compute this logical fact.
If Mark suddenly starts sounding like a Pink Floyd song, don’t look for a hidden meaning or the name of the drug he took. He is just overtired, and so am I.
We are leaving the “people of Nantes” for our regular “people of Ottawa”.
The Socialist Party fell out of favour with most left-wing taxpayers with the controversial labour code reform tabled in the spring.
Last weekend of August, last weekend of hot weather, last weekend of freedom for most people… in pure French fashion, we decided to run away from responsibilities.
French pharmacies focus on drugs and beauty essentials, no mere mortals’ needs like eating and drinking.
Sometimes, I wonder if, eventually, I would have developed a taste for wine and alcohol if I had stayed in France.
The tide was low and I knew there was water somewhere, in front of us, but it was lost somewhere in the heavy mist. It was so hot the seawater was evaporating in front of us.
When I’m not visiting art exhibitions, my services are required to take pictures of an upcoming event and figure out the art of hanging 52 large paintings in one of Nantes’ most famous buidings—merci papa!
In tonight’s news, Rio’s highlights were a two-minute story. Once again, social issues and political campaigns are in the spotlight.
In the spotlight: African artists and stunning visual creations.
French people are very illogical human beings. I know what I’m saying—I’m one of them.
Walk down the streets of Nantes and you will notice the many English signs (because English sounds cool, right?) and the terrible double-entendre meaning.
I find that one of life’s greatest pleasures is the juxtaposition of contrasts that makes…
We are a bunch of atheists, I don’t believe in miracles. The camera wasn’t working.
Spotting Mark at the playground is easy: he is the only kid who shouts “Oh, my GOD!” when he is annoyed, and “Oh, my GOODNESS!” when he is amazed.
“I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get?”
“I… I don’t know. Is the artist making fun of China? Of the Western world?”
“Here is the deal: we are going to Préfailles and we will leave at 11:00 a.m. Disclaimer: I haven’t traveled with my parents since I was a kid, we’ve never been to Préfailles and we will most likely NOT leave at 11:00 a.m.”