Dr Janet Hall

Road Rage and the Grand Final Draw

I was asked to talk to Grubby and DD on Radio this morning about how people might be feeling about the Grand Final draw. It’s important that we recognize how stressful it might be for many devoted football fans. They would have been flooded by a potent chemical cocktail of natural stimulants like adrenalin and cortisol and they have not been able to release them. This could make for some very disgruntled and tense drivers on our roads this week, so watch out!

We need closure in order to come to terms with major conflicts in our life. This Grand Final Draw puts us into a week of suspense and tension which we didn’t need. Everyone probably feels disappointed and frustrated with the drawn result. Collingwood fans might feel betrayed by their team who failed to win despite a great start in the match. St Kilda fans might be bewildered that their team didn’t snatch the win after their valiant fight back. In the great Australian vernacular the best description of feelings is “Gutted!”

So apart from being careful on the roads, what’s the best action to cope with stress this week? Exercise!

I’ve just come back from a morning run and am patting myself on the back. (Actually I must admit my run is really a “Jagger” – it’s a cross between a jog and a stagger).


Uzes Saturday Market

Dr Jan’s Europe Trip June July 2010
Uzes Saturday Market Day

Another very hot day looming so we got to the market of 200 stalls spread over the Place des Herbes and down the main street by 9.15 for our almond croissants and coffee and “people watching”.

Then into the fray – tasted some hard/soft creamish cheese to choose, viand terrine,canard froie gras, white asparagus, plump cherries, St Quentin baguette –all designed for lunch at home!

We so wanted to get a “book your chook and tatas” but it just  didn’t fit our menu planning with only 2 days left in Uzes.

(The story of the book your chook” comes from the time we stayed in the town of Vence north of Nice, when we planned a  chicken rotisserie lunch. When John went down specially at the anointed time to collect a chicken – seeing them all lined up ready-  he was devastated to be told that there were no more chickens and the ones waiting  had been prepaid – hence” book your chook’ is the lesson we learned. 

We also say “You have to pay to pee” and therefore “see one, do one” in regard to using the loo at a cafe as a “practice pee” because the next one you need you will have to pay for.
My French intern, Fatima, says that France has dirty public toilets and yet you still have to pay for them. My nose knows I wouldn’t dare try one but Johnny can get by.

We both bought more stylish hats for the European summer to replace our Aussie style baseball caps. Then  John went home to have a sunbake and try out our apartment block pool but I was not ready yet. I was on a mission to buy a Tshirt that I could wear whenever…found a mauve one for 10 euro  – John is mortified I didn’t get black – fancy that!

I also got a topaz bling turtle keychain and one of those bag holders of bling that I always coveted from the Clifton Hill shoe shop – was one third of the price too!

I staggered home in the heat to escape the midday sun and crowd and to embrace the “lunch from heaven” on the balcony. A big siesta followed as you can imagine. Then John had a plonge in the pool and I splashed my feet – still a bit cold yet.

Up to the town at 5pm to the Fountain under the trees for the free wifi and Rose wine and people watching. We heard car horns and rowdy shouts and guessed that a political rally was happening. To our surprise it was a wedding and the bride and groom lead the procession in an open red sportscar. The bride was sitting high in the front and waving like she was the Moomba queen in the Melbourne parade. It caught my breath it was such a charming pageant with all the subsequent guests in cars hooting and tooting as they passed.

Home by 7.30 with Johnny’s bottle of cognac for his traditional Saturday night ritual.
We had more roast duck breast Magret (cooked to perfection in the fan-forced oven), mushroom sauce, snow peas and potatoes followed by sweet cherries – all the time sitting on the balcony watching the light change through the trees as the sun sets by 9.30.


Of Cowboys and the Sea in the Camargue

Dr Jans June July 2010 Europe Trip

Jan Uzes resized

Friday we set off to where the mouth of the Rhone enters the sea in the swampy area called The Camargue. After following meandering roads through splendid green scenery to be close to Nimes we found the freeway towards Arles (lovely town with amphitheatre we had been to on a previous trip) and then turned off for the 36 kms to the town of St Maries de la Mer which is on the sea.

Legend says that the Marys were part of the ladies who gnashed their teeth at the bottom of the cross and  in the garden of Gethsemane waiting for Jesus to resurrect. The Mary’s set off in a boat and were shipwrecked on this coast of France. Their black servant, Sarah, is the patron saint of the Gypsies and they come to this place every year for the festival of the Marys.

(Do you think it is significant that my middle name is Mary?)

St Maries, the town, is like a Spanish town with white haciendas and funny chimneys all sparkling in the hot sun. It was market day but they were packing up so John drove on to find the booking place for a small passenger boat called the Tikki III which takes folks on a tour of 1 and half hours up the Camargue on the Petit Rhone. The boat was not till 2.30pm so we had time to go back to the town and have a quick look at the beach (there are 30 kms of beach but it is grey sand and stony windbreakers and still water so a bit bland for us Aussies) and then lunch.

The town was brimming with cafes and restaurants but we used our intuition to sniff out a cool looking lemon place which we enjoyed –mostly…
John found that beignets of calamari meant fried donuts and Jan’s fruits de mer au gratin was pipis and tiny muscles in gratin soup.  We should have known better and need to be more querying next time, even if the waiter doesn’t speak English so well we can ask…
But gee the salad was good as was the sardines and crème carame!.

We boarded the boat just in time together with a bus or two of elderly tourists. As John said, quoting his dear old departed Uncle Jack: “ If this is old age, I didn’t sign up for it!”
The French Ladies all looked chic however, as always: despite their age they never drop their image.

We forged our way up the river looking at bulls grazing on the bank, boats, houses  and large fishing nets (which Johnny says are like the ones the Chinese brought to India).
When we pulled over closer to a bank where there was a clearing we were delighted to see a sole cowboy with a long pole herding a gaggle of horses, ponies, bulls and cows. This was the show of the day!

We were charmed to learn that the horses are born brown, but as they age turn grey and then finally white! There are horse stables and riding schools all along the road into the town but as I said to John, I wouldn’t try riding as I just don’t want the drama of a fall and possible broken limb.

Back to Uzes for the pitcher of rose in the fountain square and free wifi to get emails.
Then home for a picnic on the balcony and watch the sunset through the greens of the park.


The Magic of the Morning After Nimes

Dr Jan’s Trip June July 2010
FrenchTreeRoadI am sitting looking out at the day unfolding through the stunning park trees on this first floor apartment (so spacious you might as well be in Cairns or Noosa rather than France -where space is usually at such premium that you have to breathe in to walk around your bed).The birds are singing and the sun is beginning to shine brightly through the luscious green leaves. The traffic is also evident however, as the Friday morning begins for the8,400 residents of Uzes –our mediaeval town around the corner. Looks like today is a replica of yesterday in the sun and warmth.
We drove the 20 minutes to the town of Nimes (population 135,000) on the local road which at times narrowed to alarming proportions when turning a corner and seeing a truck coming the other way.
Highlights are:
The avenues of trees either side with trunks with faces and bums (I see faces, John sees bums –go figure).
The bridge over the blue/green Gardon river which is set in a wide delta below.
We find ourselves on the ring road around Nimes easily but not so easily find the underground parking near the Arena (which is over 2,000 years old and the best preserved amphitheatre in the world). We are glad to be here in early June before the bunfight of August summer tourists. We easily sign up for our audiotour and start climbing the steps inside the arena. Johnny says those Romans had little legs like mine, so I don’t know how they bounced up those large steps up to the top.
They say the arena could hold 24,000 folks and the slaves and poor had to climb up to the top tiers whilst the rich were at ringside to see the blood and gore full-on.
The audio described one special performance day where the local entrepreneur funded a free bunfight to celebrate Augustus after his first year in power. The first part of the morning consisted of animals ripping each other apart –a bear and a lion for instance. Then there was a “hunt” where almost naked men ripped the animals apart. Most folks went to lunch rather than watch the next spectacle where the animals ripped apart criminals and political prisoners. (Glad to hear there was some circumspection aren’t we?)  Or perhaps like me, they were just anxious to eat their lunch and not miss out on the best part of the show in the afternoon –the gladiators.
We learned that gladiators were highly trained at respected schools and though the boss of the  spectacle had the right to do hand out (which meant kill the loser) or fist closed (he can live)  –  it wasn’t thumbs down as we thought from watching Spartacus – killing him incurred a big penalty which the boss had to pay back to the gladiator school so that’s perhaps why more leniency was proferred.

After the Arena we walked a little outside the old walled town precinct along a lovely canal until we entered the Jardin of the fountain (an original spring there when the Romans settled). We climbed up the hill of stairs until we reached a tower which had more very steep stairs (as I always say when I travel – you wouldn’t want to be too fat or too old) And from the top we had a fantastic view of Nimes. There was a map of how the Romans would have set it all up so we could see the Arena and our next goal – the ancient building which was the original meeting forum.

But first it was time for lunch. Mmmm, now what today we wonder as we order the 3 course menu of the day at a pretty lemon cafe in the narrow pedestrian street inside the old Nimes town.We were first served a plate of hams and salami and salad and a punnet of bread each. You might think that was lunch but oh no – just entree. Next was a thin steak and frites and more salad.Finally there was just one slice of strawberry tarte left which I snaffled, leaving Johnny to enjoy  the home-made crème broule with caramelised sugar toffee on top. (Little wonder there was no dinner for us that night but just a taste of cheese and bread  at 10pm!)

We walked then to see the Nimes cathedral and couldn’t believe the tourist who sneaked in with his cigarillo in his hand and stood at the back! We went to the old forum site to find that it is in restoration (having been so neglected that it had  been used as a barn in the past!) but needing a sit and digestive rest  we were happy to queue up to see the 3D movie of the history of Nimes. It was the re-enactment of scenarios of combat dating from the gladiators to the Protestants to the bullfights which are still a feature of  this century (we just missed out on the week of the Feria bullfights – wonder why I am kindof glad about that???). We drove home exhausted after our busy day in the hot sun. Time for a siesta!