After four months, the time has come for us to leave Quillan, and I am as miserable as the weather at the thought.
The reason it’s the “end of year” celebration is because in France the end of the school year is in July. But anyway, back to the normal celebration stuff. The school had been practising for the celebration all term with Ollie’s class doing gymnastics and singing while my class were practising homework-excuse jokes, singing, drums, guitar, and recorder.
Well we finally got to do some swimming with school.
Our days – and nights – are ordered by the peal of the bells from the old church, at the end of the rue de l’eglise, just 200 metres from our apartment.
Sunday 25 May is Mothers’ Day in France and it did not go unmarked in this household. Continue reading
It’s the end of our second week in Quillan and the boys have survived a whole week of the final term of school at the Ecole Paulin Nicoleau.
The first week is always the hardest, and they have done an amazing job at navigating the challenges thrown at them. Even if we left now, they’d have done themselves proud.
On Tuesday my class went to the pool gym for Gym. Continue reading
School in France isn’t actually as terrible as I thought. It was worse.
Today when I woke up I was feeling pissed off about the fact that it was the first day of the French school term.