Back in Grenoble

We left Grenoble last Thursday for the Cote D'Azur - just a quick look at it, you understand, on our way to Italy. We were going to stay a little way from the coast, but then decided to press on and ended up in Cannes. The hotel we finally arrived at was overpriced, had no facilities for breakfast or a restaurant (unlike the others in the same chain) and we were also informed quite gleefully by the 'manager' that there was also no air conditioning. By this time, I felt we had been travelling long enough and we could probably manage for one night, and we did.
On Friday, we took Italy by storm and arrived mid-afternoon at our hotel in Florence, pre-booked (prenotare) for three nights, to be confronted by a hatchet-faced manager who looked as though to smile would crack his face. So my best, prepared-in-advance- Italian was wasted on him! Then he and a female colleague spent several minutes in a furious argument in front of me which I think was about which rooms were / were not ready and why. He was replaced the following morning by a younger man who was even more abrupt and, not to put too fine a point on it, just plain rude. I found myself wondering why one would contemplate a career in hospitality when one quite obviously hates all one's fellow men, but my Italian wasn't up to expressing the thought and their English wouldn't have coped either.
And then we experienced Italians behind the wheels of their cars!
Over that I will draw a veil except to say that if the Italians' cars were not equipped with horns, they would suffer severe withdrawal symptoms!

Les vacances!

Down to Ashford on Sunday, straight after my last session of the counselling diploma, to stay overnight before wending our way to Dover and the ferry. As we arrived early, we were changed to an earlier crossing and so, by evening yesterday, we had arrived, via Reims, at Troyes, where we stayed overnight.

Today we set off bright and early and arrived here in Grenoble. After all the flat landscapes of northern France, it was a pleasant change to see the Alpes looming before us. We had a toilet stop at one of the delightful picnic areas that the French have at intervals along the motorways and there my delight was temporarily subdued. The toilet black was a clean, unusual-looking, new building, so imagine my surprise and disappointment when I went in, to discover that the toilets themselves were the traditional hole-in-the-floor type which I remember so well from my stays in the sixties. Regular readers of this blog will possibly recall that I do, at times, have what could be described as a bit of an obsession with toilets. especially Welsh ones, or the lack of them. However, although these were holes in the floor, they were modern holes in the floor with sensors. As soon as you put your feet on the foot-resting bits, water gushes from the walls, thereby ensuring that, however careful you might be, you end up with wet feet.

We're staying here for two days, before pressing on towards Italy, so you may soon get more photos of the Alpes in a little more detail, depending on my access to wifi. Mind you, I think it is quite impressive that I was able to organise this internet stint in French with little difficulty...n'est ce pas?

Celebration time!

This morning, I finally finished my counselling portfolio, just in time to hand it in tomorrow. It's typed, organised, ordered, filed, checked - everything that can be done to it has been done. Now it's in the lap of the gods, or at least of CTI (Counselling Training Initiatives).
I was so pleased I rang Keith, who was busy being businesslike in the shop.
So then I rang Elder Daughter - no answer.
Younger Daughter then - no answer.
Elder Son. He did answer but couldn't talk for long as he was just about to take his family out for the day.
Oh well, not to worry - I just told myself how pleased I was with me.
Meanwhile, tomorrow, after the last session of my course in the morning, we are off on our travels. It's nearly two years since our last trip and this time we are driving through France and into Italy. Faithful laptop is coming with me, as always, so, depending on the availability of wi-fi, I may be able to post once or twice. And yes, Dale, I shall take lots of photos. :)
So all I need to do now is a crash course in Italian. Well, if you know French and have done 'O' level Latin, how hard can it be?
Io capisco l'Italiano un poco - innit! Ciao.

New Beginnings

I went into my new school yesterday to unload the crateloads of stuff I had brought from my old one. Most of the staff were there and had been all week. I hope this isn't a school of workaholics! Been there, done that, don't want to do it again. That's why I stepped down from being deputy head a few years ago, because there are more important things in life than work and I wanted to reclaim a large part of mine. However, this contract is until December, so I guess I can cope till then!
My diploma course will end on Sunday and I have all my coursework and portfolio finished (unless I am told I have to re-do anything) so, another ending but new horizons. In the next few months, I shall be able to start counselling as a qualified counsellor. Any volunteers?

Drawing to a close

The thing I was surprised about is how much the closure of the school affected me. After all, I have only been there a year so in a way, I didn't feel I even had the right to be upset and emotional about it. How the rest of the staff have coped, I have no idea. Most have been in the school for several years and all have gone through the full process, from the first announcement that the school was targeted for closure, through the fight by the parents' action group to keep it open and then sustaining the school, pupils and parents once the final decision had been made.
The children finished last Wednesday. By then, most people were emotionally exhausted and thoughts of the staff had to turn to the next two days of clearing our rooms of our personal stuff and anything we intended taking to our new schools, such as small resources, games etc. The big stuff had already been earmarked for neighbouring schools.
We had been told that we had Thursday and Friday to do that, without interruption, but would not be able to come into the building again after that, so it was with some surprise and dismay that we arrived on Thursday morning to find the Authority's IT team swarming round the school, already dismantling interactive whiteboards, projectors and computers. We had the situation where teachers were frantically trying to copy planning etc onto their memory sticks whilst IT personnel were hovering over them waiting to take their laptops. One of them mentioned that the laptops would be taken straight to the schools which had bid for them but would not be wiped until September. When I protested at this, he sheepishly admitted that maybe it was not in the best interests of data protection and that he would instead take them back with him and wipe them first.
On Friday, the secretary arrived with a day's work still to do, to discover that her office computer had already been dismantled and had to demand that it was put back, which it was, but without the printer. To make matters worse, the phones had already been disconnected so head teacher and secretary had to make any necessary calls on their mobile phones.
It seemed to have totally escaped the powers that be that, although term had finished for the children on Wednesday, we were still at work until the end of the week.
Sensitivity??? That lot definitely need counselling!

The show must go on

The Wizard of Oz was the production of choice for the end of term; one of my least favourite but we put our all into it as it would be the last production ever at the school. My class were Munchkins and the strains of their special song permeated my brain for days.
The final performance was on the Thursday evening and, of course, the hall was packed. The many hours of rehearsal paid off and the children gave a wonderful show, culminating at the end with their final song. I couldn't see most of the audience but I would guess that many were tearful and maybe the sight of their parents battling with emotions was the catalyst for the children. It started with one of the junior girls and quickly spread. Children were up there, on the stage, tears flowing but voices singing. As they came to the end of their song, the applause came but the children were still up there battling with their emotions in full view of everyone. Fortunately, the Year 6 teacher had the presence of mind to call them down off the stage for a group hug followed in a few moments by an encore in a less emotional frame of mind.

Endings

I know I've been conspicuous by my absence lately but I've not had a minute to call my own. School has now finished and that's the end of one chapter. Counselling diploma is due to finish next weekend but before that, I have work to do on my portfolio, so I still don't have time to do more than say a passing hello, but I will be back properly soon - promise!