So how did we end up in our tiny little French town of Ax-les-Thermes, in the little-known départment of the Ariège? We have been asked this question more times than I can count so I should have this story nailed. Usually I mime circling a finger in the air and sticking it in the map, because that’s the way I began. In part 1 of this blog, I explained how we settled on the south west, the mountains rather than…
Last Friday I was sneaking in a little rest after a busy morning unravelling la paperasserie (red tape), when I heard Tom’s feet resounding up the stairs. He burst through the bedroom door and pounced onto the bed, perching astride my knees to pin down my attention. “Mum, Mum, MUM. So today, we had salad, with olives and egg and dressing…” “I had rockmelon!” yelled his younger brother, sticking his baseball-capped head around the door frame. “Shhhh I was telling!!”…
As August faded into September, I found myself waking in the early hours. The children would soon be starting school speaking very little French, and the enormity of what we were asking of them loomed out of the 2am darkness. I felt sick with anxiety. Of course, we had tried to help them learn French for months. We engaged a tutor before we left New Zealand, we played language learning apps daily in the car while travelling and we had…
