2 September – 9 September 2019

The alarm went off at 6.45am. No, seriously, 6.45am. We awoke, dazed. We were jetlagged from both the last couple of months of Iberian travel and the excesses of the previous weekend. It was still dark outside. Even though it was summer. This was going to hurt. 

The girls, once awoken, jumped out of bed and were quickly dressed. For Sena, this was a simple matter of inserting herself into the outfit lovingly laid out the night before on her bed, undies and all (the fact that she was even wearing undies made the day just that little bit more special). You can’t be too prepared for your first day of big school! 

• 

• 

• 

Jessie and Ellie were also (for a change) quickly dressed – fashion decisions made the night before (school uniforms are not really a thing in France, but this school has a ‘half uniform’ – business on the top, but – within certain guidelines – a party at the bottom).

Hair was agonisingly styled whilst cereal was consumed, and before we knew it we were downstairs and the girls were posing for the obligatory ‘back to school’ photos – keeping with tradition, Bonnie was also involved. 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

From there, we split up. Drop offs have not always been easy things for us (Jessie and Sena have both been known to lose it completely and refuse to let us go; Ellie was already a bit wobbly from her lack of success at orientation), so we had a plan. 

Ellie would walk with Liz to meet a possible new friend, Ysalis, en route to the bus stop, where she would catch the bus to school (this in itself is a big deal, primarily, we think, because she believes that she will get a phone if she travels independently to school… we’ll see on that one). Liz and Ellie met Claire (mum) and Ysilas as planned and, following a brief scoping study (almost like dogs circling each other sniffing all the best bits), the kids bonded over dogs in fountains and cartwheels and were off down the street. The bus arrived and they piled on, much more interested in each other than their parents waving below. 1 down. 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Meanwhile, Jessie and Sena would battle the morning traffic with Anthony to be taken to school. We hit the school on time and had a brief opportunity to say hi to some of the people we met at orientation before Sienna ran into her classroom with a massive smile on her face, and Jessie could be seen disappearing across the playground with her new best friend Lola.

Best. Drop. Off. Ever. We wondered when we would crash? 

Suddenly we both had two hands free. For the first time in 2.5 months, we were responsible for zero children. It was both strange and oddly exciting. The only thing stopping us from having a 9am celebratory champagne – and continuing on through the day – was the knowledge that we had to drive to pick ups that afternoon. This whole driving thing was getting in the way of our drinking and would have to change.

School days here are long – 8.30 – 4pm, with a half day on Wednesday. School terms are short (kids get about 16 weeks of holiday a year). Not wanting to be late for our first pick up, we were at the school by 3.30 (as it turns out, one of the last ones there… potentially the other parents had just camped out in the car park all day?). 

We debated what they would look like when they came out. Would they be happy? Excited? Disappointed? Terrified? Asleep with exhaustion? 

We picked up Sena first. She came running out with a massive smile on her face. Teacher looked OK too. 

‘How was it?’ we ask Sena. Good! She says, a big thumbs up. 

‘How was it?’  We asked the teacher? Good she says, a mild look of concern on her face. (in french) ‘She can write some letters and numbers but she has no idea what they are’ True statement. (Side note: We have some work to do to get her up to a 5 year old level here – they start learning letters and numbers here at 3 or 4. Sena, as a third child, has effectively been raised by wolves (or at least border collies and 7 year old sisters) and so has no idea about this stuff. Yet). 

Next stop, we head to the common area of the primary school were the kids will supposedly just miraculously appear at the appointed hour. 

And appear they did. Jessie first, hand in hand with new best friend Lola. Big, slightly mischievous smiles on their faces. (Lola reminds us so much of Louelle one of Jessie’s best mates in Australia – shout out to Sal and Phil if you are reading this!). We’re super glad that they’ve made friends but we pity their teachers – they look like they may cause some trouble together. Immediately talk was steered (by the girls) to when their first play date would be. 

Then Ellie came out, bubbling with excitement about the fact that she was in a group of 4 french girls. Her friendship with Ysilas had endured the first day and there was talk of birthday parties and sleepovers. 

• 

We couldn’t believe it. They had survived their first day in a French school (albeit it was an ‘English’ day today) and had come out smiling on the other side. They didn’t look scarred by the experience. And they were awake. 

They were all exploding to tell us their news, but we made them wait, and instead bundled them back in the car for the trip back into Aix and straight to a cafe for the full download. 

Overall, an incredibly successful first day. 

Day two dawned. The alarm went off again. Even harder than Monday as the fatigue of the week was already starting to kick in. The girls required some more coaxing to get moving but we still got out the door on time. Ellie was desperate to take the bus again so she would see her friends, Anthony dropped Jessie and Sena again. This time the traffic was awful (so this is what everyone’s been talking about). We travelled the 7 kms in almost an hour and only just avoided a late pass on day 2.

Back for pick ups in the afternoon. More smiles. More friends. More excitement. More fatigue. We were two for two here and wondering when we were going to have to start picking up pieces. We were also working out that it was effectively a 2 hour round trip to do either drop offs or pick ups (albeit allowing for a bit of ‘conversation time’ in the school yard). This was going to impede on our lifestyle and so other options would need to be explored! 

By Wednesday, cracks were starting to show. Waking up was harder, with only the promise of a bus ride for everyone (apparently more exciting – for now – than driving in with Daddy) and a half day avoiding a meltdown.

(Side note – Sena’s sudden appreciation of public transport was due entirely to her first crush – a 11 year old boy called Amal – Ysilas’s big brother – who was lovingly termed ‘the Boy’. Amal has taken this infactuation with good humour, graciously accepting and reading numerous love letters and being always willing to walk Sena on to the bus and sit next to her (she wouldn’t have it any other way). We may have to start paying him.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Wednesday afternoon was spent at 2 different play dates, pondering how this 4 1/2 day school week could possibly work if parents actually had jobs. Not something we really needed to worry about at this stage of course!

3 days down, 2 to go. Tomorrow was a big day as it would be the girls first in French total immersion. We were intrigued as to how this would play out.

Thursday 650 wake ups were harder again. Lots of burying of heads in pillows. Some coaxing required to get little legs moving towards the bus stop. Only the promise of newly made friends driving them forward. It was their first ‘French immersion’ day – when all their teachers and lessons would be only in French (this happens 5 days a fortnight, with English being the primary teaching language the other 5). More positive reviews Thursday evening, but with more emotion and shorter tempers (not sure that Sena actually noticed the change in language). By the time we hit 6pm Sena was in a ball on the balcony as a result of the sheer injustice of the request to eat her dinner. By 6.30 this had deteriorated to full scale, agonising cries (when asked why she was crying, she screamed out ‘I don’t know!!!!’). Exhaustion was taking hold and her 4 year old world was falling apart.

So this is what they meant by saying that the kids would be tired. Some would say ‘insane’ would be a better word.

By Friday, the kids were exhausted, happy, and a little bit proud of how they had handled their first week (as were their parents). 

They had continued to make friends with both French and expat kids and were – amazingly – starting to come up with random words and phrases in French (we had not expected it quite so quickly). In Jessie’s case, she now understood why it was a good idea to learn French and was suddenly quite motivated to do so (we had negotiated unsuccessfully with her for 6 months in Australia around this point). In Ellie’s case, her teachers were advising us to get her additional tuition to ‘take advantage of her desire to learn’. Sena was learning too, in her case a combination of her letters and numbers (as we embarked on the long slow road to try and bring her (fairly non existent) education level up to that of her French peers in any language). It’s amazing what happens when you don’t outsource homework supervision to 18 year old gymnast coaches (as we have done in Australia for a number of years!). 

To be honest, after 2 months of travelling around and trying to do a little bit of ‘home schooling’ we (Liz and Anthony) were excited and a little bit desperate for formal homework. We had been warned to expect masses of homework that would take hours to do from Jessie’s year and up. We had set the schedule to give us time to do it. We (at least Liz and Anthony) were excited and raring to go. Somewhat predictably for the first week, nothing materialised. We were disappointed but thought that we could probably wait until next week. 

To celebrate their successful first week, we organised a babysitter for Jessie and Sena and headed out to a ‘start of year’ party at Ellie’s new-best-friend Ysilas’s parents house. To be fair, there was no complaints from Jessie and Sena at the prospect of staying home and watching a movie with a 16 year old Dutch girl. 

It was a great opportunity to meet a whole bunch of new people. Predominantly expats from all over, a number recently arrived in Aix for the start of the school year, interspersed with ‘locals’ from the area or with kids at the school. We arrived at Claire and Jean’s house just outside the Aix old town and about 10 minutes walk from our house to find a stunning mansion-style house overlooking a beautiful garden that welcomes you from behind a nondescript driveway fence off the main boulevard. The large outdoor table was heaving with the plates brought by each guest and wine, champagne and mystery cocktails flowed freely. We were overloaded with new faces, new names and lots of friendly conversation. 

• 

Ellie and Ysilas disappeared upstairs and seemingly multiplied into a medium sized pack of 10 year old girls (someone must have added water) who were soon having handstand competitions and tearing up the dance floor until 1am (fun fact – when asked the following day about her activities at the party, Ellie did not remember a thing. It seems that massive over tiredness and over excitement has the same effect on little brains as too many tequila shots has on slightly older ones). 

By 130, we realised that keeping Ellie out any longer would probably result in a call to whatever DOCS is called over here, and we also needed to rescue our 16 year old babysitter (whose parents were also at the party). We called it a night and made our way home. 

For our first ‘normal’ weekend in Aix, we had thought to do a daytrip – either south to the Calanques (stunning rock formations guarding the coastline between Marseille and Cassis) or north into the Luberon. By the time the weekend came around, however, Sunday had already filled up with parties and playdates and we decided to stay in town and just enjoy where we were for the Saturday. 

Ellie didn’t manage to surface until around 11am on Saturday, a record for her. Whilst we were awaiting Sleeping Beauty, Jessie, Bonnie and Anthony went on an early morning reconnaissance of the town, in search of the perfect croissant, petit pain au chocolat or chausson aux pommes, which were subsequently delivered to the apartment for a late breakfast. 

From there, we wandered the streets, exploring the markets, buying produce for the week, letting the girls practice their newly formed French and generally trying to feel a little bit local. Next step – we’ll have to  buy Bonnie a beret or something (now that he’s worked out how to poo on the pavement like a real local dog). It was lovely to have some ‘downtime’ to explore our new home as a family (although if you’d suggested to Anthony in Australia that he would have enjoyed walking around a French produce market, he would have likely disagreed with you). 

Our wanderings took us back to Claire and Jean’s house to help with the cleanup from the night before, and to raid their grapevine which shaded their terrace and was sagging with massive bunches of fresh grapes. All we needed now was a toga and a fan and Anthony’s Saturday night was sorted. 

Instead of heading home and getting fanned and hand fed grapes, it was off to the main sporting complex in Aix, the Val de l’Arc, where there was a ‘sports fair’ where all the local sports clubs were spruiking their wares and trying to attract new members for the new year. This is not something we’ve seen before and we absolutely loved it. Everything from Archery to Zumba dancing (via scuba diving, parachuting and any other sport you could think of) seems to have a club in the area, and all offer their various sports/passions at incredibly cheap prices. This was clearly the way to both get involved with things and meet people here. We wandered around and gathered up info for gymnastics, dance, barre, equestrian, triathlon, riding, diving and a few others (some of them more wishful than others… even without the annoyance of working this year, there’s only so many hours in the day). Such an awesome concept. 

After that, Saturday night was a well deserved family night in. Instead of toga wearing, grape eating goodness, in fact we passed our time eating ice cream and watching Toy Story – but that’s what happens when you let a 4 year old plan your social life! 

The quiet theme continued on Sunday, with a playdate for Jessie at one of her best friend Lola’s house in the country, followed by a pool/tennis/lunch party at another friends’ house for the rest of the afternoon. This kind of weekend party – the ‘bring a plate and a bottle of wine and come and hang out by the pool’ – seems to be a popular way of spending time here. 

The weather is still perfect most of the time (still high 20s low 30s) and many of the places we’ve been to outside the centre of town (so therefore, basically in the country) have decent backyards, pools and lovely shaded eating areas … perfect for having a glass of wine and watching kids swim (or fall into the unfenced pools – still strange from an Australian perspective!). We loved this style of entertaining and opportunity to get to know people – albeit in our case in a somewhat more urbain context! 

Overall a really lovely first proper weekend in town, with plenty of fun stuff to do but enough down time to recharge the kids batteries (we hoped) before heading into next week! 

So, what have we been doing this week whilst the kids have been navigating their way through their first week of school? 

Liz has been battling through intensive French classes to try and jump straight into an intermediate class at Alliance Francaise. 10 hours of private lessons and lots of homework has led to a massive increase in French capability but high levels of fatigue and frustration! This frustration has been to some extent moderated by the discovery of local barre classes and, of course, 6 euro bottles of rosé. 

Anthony will start lessons next week when term goes back. In the meantime, the focus of the week has been on learning (the very hard way) about the joys of Aixois traffic jams, playing quite a lot of tennis and generally trying to meet people and get life organised. Fun, but probably not sustainable in the long term. 

Other efforts to get involved with other things (kitesurfing, cricket, riding etc) have been slightly stifled by the chaos that is (it turns out) la rentrée in french society – basically because everyone comes back from holidays at the end of August and then spends the next 2 weeks getting themselves set for the new year and nothing actually happens. This has been generally true both at school (we still didn’t have a timetable for the girls, particularly for sports) as well as events outside of school. 

After 2 months of ‘downtime’, Anthony was ready to get moving again, and French society wasn’t quite there yet. He had high hopes for next week.