Week 4

I knew this would be a good week, after Saturday's result,
England squeezed past France saving me from insults.
I watched the game in an Irish bar surrounded by the French
Who screamed "Allez les Bleus" or cheered when Chabal came off the bench.
The French are briliant losers and I was left alone,
As I sang "swing low, sweet charriot, coming forth to carry me home"!
Monday brought with it, two scary propositions
I had to go to a press conference about classical musicians.
But far far worse and frightening i'd have to go alone,
Believe me when I tell you this shook me to my bone.
This isn't jumping in at the deep end of your local swimming pool,
This is trying to cross the Atlantic and trying it front crawl!
But it went really well and I felt part of the press
Although I turned up in a suit and therfore overdressed
Everyone else came along in jeans and someone brought their dog,
Yet another thing that's weird, over here in the land of the frog.
Everything else is rosy, and i've sampled Nice's nightlife
But there's alot to be desired if Wayne's bar is a highlight.
A prick on a laptop computer mixing really random songs,
Anyone who mixes Greenday with Justice is certainly no Pete Tong.
People start dancing on the tables by 10 o'clock at night,
For me it's the lack of locals that confirms it's really shite.
I'm desperate to find a decent club to throw some foreign shapes,
Since Wayne's bar gets a little crowded and plays music that I hate.
Anway that's it for now, i'll update you all real soon,
Hopefully after hearing some dirty techno tune!

Week 3

This week's not been so great, work has felt like work,
It's been a while since I have thought so much and my head's begun to hurt.
I spend too much time watching t.v. and not enough outside,
Which is stupid since in Nice it's sunny all the time.
French t.v. is mostly dubbed and awful quality,
Which hasn't stopped me falling for Emilie Albertini!
She presents "Change de Look" a programme about fashion,
But it's not the clothes I care about, she's my biggest passion!
The presenters of the weather here can be one of two things;
A leary bloke with facial hair or a bird in skinny jeans
I see it all the time, I promise i'm no liar,
A man with a dodgy goatee or women in alluring attire!
"Alerte Cobra" is a cop show, on France's answer to channel 5
It's a German show dubbed into French so the "Gendarmes" are "Polizei"
In truth I am addicted I watch it when I can,
The reliable German pros always get their man.
They drive a swish Mercedes and never miss a trick,
A ginger engineer is their formiddable sidekick.
But enough of dodgy t.v. all I do here is complain.
I've found things that make me happy and things to keep me sane,
Croissants or a pain au chocolat or a tasty warm baguette,
And I always smile when i'm published on the internet.
I like watching people busk for euros or even just centimes,
Whether a man on his guitar or a whole breakdancing team.
On Sunday, me and my housemate, went to see the man-made waterfall
Which obviously precedes Sarkozy but even Charles de Gaulle.
But the "cascade" is indicative of what i've found with Nice,
Just as I think i've seen the whole jigsaw I find another piece.
While this week may have been hard, it's made me realise,
That i'm privy to the beauty here hidden from tourist's eyes!

Avoiding dog poo!

In France it's everywhere, it's their way of life,
It's their daily routine-they see it day and night.
I'll draw some parallels so you can really see,
No one can avoid inevitability.
Flyers at the union, questions during class,
Things like these just wait then they bite you in the arse.
Concentrate all you want, it only takes one lapse,
For your brand new trainers to smell of canine crap.
Spot it on the pavement, or lurking on a bridge,
Just do whatever you can to avoid that familiar squidge!

A Search for English Tea

Earlier this week, I focused on a task,
To buy some English tea-is that so much to ask?
I know Frenchies like their 'Tizane'-green tea to you and I,
But they're not too fond of PG tips and I can't fathom why.
I went to the supermarket and searched around the store,
Until a shelf-stacker thought to ask me, 'What are you looking for?'
I said in my best French that i'd love some English tea,
She didn't mess about she took me there quickly.
When I was at the shelf I thought i'd be real snappy,
There seemed to be enough to keep any tea fan happy.
After some deliberation I went for Lipton tea,
Their boast of "thé Anglais" really did the trick for me.
I settled down that evening with what I thought would be a brew,
Yet tasted what resembled liquified dog poo!
I'm sorry that's not pleasant, but imagine how I felt,
And if you want a worse thought -think how my breath smelt!
With the tea bags in the bin, I tried another shop,
I found the teas no problem and ignored the herbal lot.
I searched for names I could pronounce or brands I recognised,
And sure enough Tetley's tea appeared before my eyes.
If Lipton tea was cotton, then this was surely silk,
I bought these bags quickly as well as getting milk.
I sat down with my purchase and even read the box,
Lipton let me down, but Tetley? Surely not.
Tea from 'Angleterre' and Middlesex to boot,
I'm not sure if the tea was picked there, perhaps i'll chase its roots.
Once again I reclined as I put mug to lips
And once again I found the tea to taste far more like shit!
But this time it wasn't the tea, the milk tasted like cream,
Sometimes the bloody French make me want to scream!
With that stiff upper lip I eventually got that decent mug of tea,
Which shows you can take me out of England but not the England out of me!

Week 1

It's funny how things work, it's funny how things go.
Fears and anxieties can melt away like snow.
I've been here just a week and yet feel so settled in,
Had it not been for Bongo i wouldn't have known where to begin.
My brother was my saviour he really helped me out.
Since he is a traveller he knows what its about.
I've landed on my feet here and i owe it all to fate,
Had i spent longer eating breakfast i'd have missed my new housemate.
Irene-that's my housemate- is really very sweet,
When I first arrived here she helped me out a treat.
She cooked me lunch and dinner- both a speciality
Dodgy pumpkin rice and her hand-crafted gnocci.
We have our separate rooms and share the rest of the flat
But climbing the steps to get there, puts me on my back.
But navigating 5 flights of stairs is a comparatively small price to pay,
When you consider what's on my doorstep every single day!
Life's not a bed of roses, sometimes it's not so great,
I arrived to be greeted by thunder and it's only sunny 7 days out of 8!
Work started for me last Monday, in a pokey little village called Drap
I spend hours writing articles of interest for the lovable English ex-pats.
I've written of closures of tunnels and hotels and permits and tax,
But some of it's far more exciting than all the aforementioned crap.
I was lucky to write about sport, I detailed the French rugby result
And only once have the editor's changes felt like a harmful insult!
I wrote 500 words on a measure that might save lives in Nice,
But the editor tore through it and changed every last word in the piece.
Apart from that i'm quite happy, i'm learning on the job,
The humbling I received will help, despite making me feel like a nob!