Thanks to a trip into town yesterday, I was able to cross off from my list of Things We do at Christmas, ice-skating outside. Previously we've done this in London outside the Natural History Museum or some such, paid through the nose, worn foot-crippling boots and skated through a lake so if you fall you quickly end up soaking wet. But it is fun... really! Actually, the best bit is the mulled wine in a paper cup afterwards. A bit like après-ski.
I took three boys into Montpellier who pushed each other around and bashed each other up from start to finish. In the end I had to have one big one in front and one behind, and my hand guiding my youngest by the neck.
We had to wait for the next session of ice-skating so had a good hour to kill. My youngest saw the stands of candyfloss and claimed that he had never ever had any and that he would really really like to try some. In my opinion, you can't go through childhood without eating candyfloss at some point - it's one of those essentials of childhood memory, eating fronds of sticky pink froth - so we stopped at the stand. I then realised that it's not so easy creating a beautifully constructed candyfloss. The girl knocked off the first one okay, but made a real pig's ear of the second. It was top-heavy, then collapsed, and then went everywhere. She had to call in reinforcements to save the day. Eventually, all three boys were happily over-dosing on sugar and we mooched off through the Christmas market.
I had some shopping to do, so the boys went into a video game shop which had used games to browse happily until I'd finished. When I rejoined them, I saw a sign advertising a disc repairing service. As we have several X-Box games that are scratched, I was interested in finding out more. Apparently the machine takes off the first layer of something and then applies some sort of liquid that fills in the gaps. If the repair doesn't work, you don't pay. Cool.
Then we went back to the ice rink and the boys got kitted with boots. They were supposed to have gloves - it was 'obligatory' - but no one seemed to take much notice. I think that was in case of trouble: no gloves = not insured. I declined to skate too, but headed off directly to the mulled wine stand and then came back to watch. They were not skating through water as in the UK, but through churned up ice. My eldest's boots were incredibly uncomfortable and he stopped after only about 20mins. Still, it was very pretty with the lights, and the ambiance with people in silly Christmas hats and the usual selection of competant show-offs and terrified beginners.
Then we went home. Today, I was going to buy a Christmas tree, but thought it would be a waste because we are not here for Christmas and the boys are away for the whole holiday. Instead, I gave them a choice: a tree or a second-hand X-Box game from the shop in Montpellier. Was that unethical/unChristmassy/evil/etc.? Anyway, we went back to the shop and to their joy, got a war game (some Tom Clancy one). Unfortunately, the repair of Test Drive wasn't possible because the disc was broken, not just scratched. Oh dear, said I, we'll have to just chuck it, whereupon a young sales guy made the suggestion that we sell it! This did not go down well with the owner whose reputation was suddenly thrown into question as the seller of used games and I expressed shock saying that I hoped the game I'd bought had been tested. It also made me laugh though. Poor kid was just thinking out loud. Welcome to the adult world where you think before you speak!
The boys then found a parent who followed age advice on games while I was looking at another market stand. They came away realising how 'lucky' they are to have laxist parents (not just me...!) with regard to video games. Otherwise they'd be limited to Mario and Spongebob.
And they'd play Assassin's Creed chez les copains...
Showing posts with label Skating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Skating. Show all posts
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Skating amok!
When one has young children, Sunday mornings have a tendency to be somewhat moot. With this in mind, then, it was not a dramatic decision to envisage meeting another family at the crack of dawn at the skating rink. Of course, what I mean by 'crack of dawn' is, in fact 10am, but for those of us who like a lie-in on a Sunday, 10am might just as well be 6am!
Montpellier has a relatively new skating rink, called the Vegapolis. I had never been there, and have never experienced a rink like it. My youngest, being schooled in the Montpellier Agglomeration, has been there many times with his school. All last term they spent Friday mornings there learning how to skate. The Agglo offers many such advantages. Next term they'll be learning how to swim (although my youngest is already taking lessons) at the Olympic pool downtown.
It was 27Eur for two adults and two children including skate-hire, so not exactly cheap, and would have been cheaper had we lived within the Agglo. Never mind, the skates were relatively new and definitely well-maintained with sharpened blades. There are two skating areas there: the ice-hockey rink; and a 'piste ludique' with dance floor, learning rink, tunnel and slopes.
My youngest shot off, running on the ice rather than skating per se. My eldest followed and they bombed about the ice which was thankfully quiet. Our friends hired ice-pushchairs for their little ones. Children can either use them to sit on and be pushed (for the under 5s), or use them as a prop, a bit like a Zimmer frame... It gives them confidence and helps build balance and technique without continually falling over.
On the ice with us were some proper skaters who were trying to practice jumps and other fancy steps. My youngest went straight onto the ice, potentially causing havoc, but he never seems to get into trouble because everyone just smiles at his 'casse-cou' approach to skating. He's in fact told me he wants to learn to play ice-hockey, which I'm not surprised about at all. He's just the type! We will certainly go and watch some matches which, my friends tell us, are noisy, fast, violent and just the sort of thing young boys love.
We stayed just over an hour, after which we braved the biting wind and headed home, not to a picnic in the countyside having to staple our sarnies to the table, but on the terrace out of the wind. Had it been less windy, a beach picnic would have been fun, but I've really lost the capacity to each crunchy sandy sarnies.
Actually, I'm not sure I ever had it. There's parents for you!
Montpellier has a relatively new skating rink, called the Vegapolis. I had never been there, and have never experienced a rink like it. My youngest, being schooled in the Montpellier Agglomeration, has been there many times with his school. All last term they spent Friday mornings there learning how to skate. The Agglo offers many such advantages. Next term they'll be learning how to swim (although my youngest is already taking lessons) at the Olympic pool downtown.
It was 27Eur for two adults and two children including skate-hire, so not exactly cheap, and would have been cheaper had we lived within the Agglo. Never mind, the skates were relatively new and definitely well-maintained with sharpened blades. There are two skating areas there: the ice-hockey rink; and a 'piste ludique' with dance floor, learning rink, tunnel and slopes.
My youngest shot off, running on the ice rather than skating per se. My eldest followed and they bombed about the ice which was thankfully quiet. Our friends hired ice-pushchairs for their little ones. Children can either use them to sit on and be pushed (for the under 5s), or use them as a prop, a bit like a Zimmer frame... It gives them confidence and helps build balance and technique without continually falling over.
On the ice with us were some proper skaters who were trying to practice jumps and other fancy steps. My youngest went straight onto the ice, potentially causing havoc, but he never seems to get into trouble because everyone just smiles at his 'casse-cou' approach to skating. He's in fact told me he wants to learn to play ice-hockey, which I'm not surprised about at all. He's just the type! We will certainly go and watch some matches which, my friends tell us, are noisy, fast, violent and just the sort of thing young boys love.
We stayed just over an hour, after which we braved the biting wind and headed home, not to a picnic in the countyside having to staple our sarnies to the table, but on the terrace out of the wind. Had it been less windy, a beach picnic would have been fun, but I've really lost the capacity to each crunchy sandy sarnies.
Actually, I'm not sure I ever had it. There's parents for you!
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Firsts
The end of this week provided a series of firsts.
I didn't buy anything in a charity shop, either for me or for the boys. There were one or two bits and bobs, but the prices were beyond charity shop levels, added to which I knew that space in suitcases was at a premium and I didn't want to take up valuable grams with dross.
I took my youngest to A&E which provided the opportunity to tick off a whole bevy of firsts:
Another first was going ice-skating at the Natural History Museum on Friday evening. I booked tickets in the morning for the 4pm session and as we glided round, the lights in the massive trees and on the magnificent museum buildings were lit. Numbers were strictly controlled, so there was ample space, and people were very convivial and friendly helping those who fell over and so on. The ice was rather wet and my youngest got soaked as he spent a lot of time on his backside, but I had taken a change of clothes so we didn't need a visit to A&E to treat pneumonia.
I am a fair to crappy skater but managed to stay upright and did not need the change of clothes I hadn't brought for myself. I did enjoy the mulled wine we sipped afterwards, watching what was going on in the rink in the amazingly balmy winter air. There were a number of these outdoor rinks in London this winter including in the moat at the Tower of London. I chose the NHM for its reputation as the most attractive location, with the best viewing platform (for my mother's benefit).
Yesterday, in the rain, we took the boys on a double decker bus ride to a terminus we had never been to before. Due to various unforeseen circumstances (A&E), we had not made it to our planned cinema visit on this bus on Thursday, so my mother suggested a ride to explore the farthest reaches of the 248 route. We grabbed the front seats, and sat enjoying the enfolding scenery, in the warm, just for the sake of it. I use the word 'scenery' in the loosest sense of the word as the bus took us through a council estate of dreary, sodden houses, and while we were happy to have fulfilled a sense of adventure, we had no wish to make a return trip.
This morning we encountered our last 'first' by taking a shuttle bus to Stansted at an ungodly hour of the night (1.20am), arriving at 2am having bombed down the M11 and having to spend an uncomfortable and tiring couple of hours dozing on the floor waiting for the Montpellier check-in to open. RyanAir's latest method of fleecing its passengers is to stop priority boarding for those with small children, and the frail, and to make everyone pay £2 each for the privilege. Families who need to sit together are practically obliged to fork out this extortionate sum, as are OAPs, thus it's aimed at the 'frailest' passengers. I shall think extremely carefully next time I go to the UK and search out first both BA and Eurostar to compare their prices. I wonder what Michael O'Leary will think up as the next wheeze to price families off his aircraft.
Still, we made it in one piece having eaten our homemade bacon sarnies on the plane and arrived home to a loaf of fresh pain de compagne, butter and jam. Firsts are all very well, but they can be very exhausting. It's great to be home!
I didn't buy anything in a charity shop, either for me or for the boys. There were one or two bits and bobs, but the prices were beyond charity shop levels, added to which I knew that space in suitcases was at a premium and I didn't want to take up valuable grams with dross.
I took my youngest to A&E which provided the opportunity to tick off a whole bevy of firsts:
- first hospital visit ever for me in the UK
- first hospital visit ever for my youngest in the UK (as you may know, we are regulars in France...)
- first time on the bus all the way to the terminus at the Romford end
- first time I set foot in the newly built Queen's Hospital (as opposed to setting foot in the old one; Oldchurch)
Another first was going ice-skating at the Natural History Museum on Friday evening. I booked tickets in the morning for the 4pm session and as we glided round, the lights in the massive trees and on the magnificent museum buildings were lit. Numbers were strictly controlled, so there was ample space, and people were very convivial and friendly helping those who fell over and so on. The ice was rather wet and my youngest got soaked as he spent a lot of time on his backside, but I had taken a change of clothes so we didn't need a visit to A&E to treat pneumonia.
I am a fair to crappy skater but managed to stay upright and did not need the change of clothes I hadn't brought for myself. I did enjoy the mulled wine we sipped afterwards, watching what was going on in the rink in the amazingly balmy winter air. There were a number of these outdoor rinks in London this winter including in the moat at the Tower of London. I chose the NHM for its reputation as the most attractive location, with the best viewing platform (for my mother's benefit).
Yesterday, in the rain, we took the boys on a double decker bus ride to a terminus we had never been to before. Due to various unforeseen circumstances (A&E), we had not made it to our planned cinema visit on this bus on Thursday, so my mother suggested a ride to explore the farthest reaches of the 248 route. We grabbed the front seats, and sat enjoying the enfolding scenery, in the warm, just for the sake of it. I use the word 'scenery' in the loosest sense of the word as the bus took us through a council estate of dreary, sodden houses, and while we were happy to have fulfilled a sense of adventure, we had no wish to make a return trip.
This morning we encountered our last 'first' by taking a shuttle bus to Stansted at an ungodly hour of the night (1.20am), arriving at 2am having bombed down the M11 and having to spend an uncomfortable and tiring couple of hours dozing on the floor waiting for the Montpellier check-in to open. RyanAir's latest method of fleecing its passengers is to stop priority boarding for those with small children, and the frail, and to make everyone pay £2 each for the privilege. Families who need to sit together are practically obliged to fork out this extortionate sum, as are OAPs, thus it's aimed at the 'frailest' passengers. I shall think extremely carefully next time I go to the UK and search out first both BA and Eurostar to compare their prices. I wonder what Michael O'Leary will think up as the next wheeze to price families off his aircraft.
Still, we made it in one piece having eaten our homemade bacon sarnies on the plane and arrived home to a loaf of fresh pain de compagne, butter and jam. Firsts are all very well, but they can be very exhausting. It's great to be home!
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