108 sun salutations

Posted on May 31, 2010 by helena

On Saturday I went along to my favourite yoga teacher’s class to do 54 sun salutations in a row. Why on earth would you want to do a thing like that you may wonder, but I was scarily excited by the challenge and wanted to see how tough it was.

I was unpleasantly surprised. I was actually sweating after about 10. After 25 I wondered how I would last until the end. Did you know that one sun salutation is actually two? That is, one on either side? No, neither did I.

It took us one hour and ten minutes. At times I went into a trance-like state. Other times I tried to count them (this was bad, they went really slowly). Then I tried to focus on my breathing and finally on the plot for my novel. I have to admit that most of the time I was wishing it was over. Although I was determined to keep on and not collapse into child’s pose like the woman in front of me.

At the end of 54 I lay back in a haze of exhaustion and sweat.

“Next week,” said Ria the lovely yoga teacher. “We will be doing 108.”

“Why 108?” I groaned. “Are you serious?”

“Indian/Buddhist thought states that the outer universe is mirrored in the inner man. He is the microcosm and the objective universe is the macrocosm. The number 108 represents the distance between the devotee and the God within.”

I’ll just have to take her word for it. And yes, I will be there on Saturday. I might never recover, but I will be there….

It’s that time of year again…..

Posted on May 25, 2010 by helena

French Open time…..maybe they would like to be in my book?

here is one I will miss this year….

finally, here is another one for the road….

(that’s enough semi-naked tennis players, Ed)

Sophie’s choice

Posted on May 23, 2010 by helena

I was ill in bed for most of the weekend so I worked on my novel. It has been renamed Love in a Warm Climate, which I like, although I did also like Lost in France. Mainly because of the Bonnie Tyler song.

The name may have changed, but the worrying is the same. Sometimes I read what I have written and think ‘that’s not half bad’ other times I think ‘who cares about this?’ or ‘why on earth do we need to know what Sophie eats, does, thinks, says, wears?’

Is this a problem all fiction writers face? Did Scott Fitzgerald worry that no one cared if Gatsby ended up with Daisy? I don’t suppose he did, he probably knew it was brilliant. I know this is not, but then you can hardly compare chick-lit with the master.

Another dilemma I have is Sophie, my main character. She has to chose between two extremely sexy, rich and gorgeous men (why write a book with a load of men no one can fantasise about was my reasoning). I have ended one chapter with Sophie telling her French friend Audrey that she has almost decided. “There’s just one more thing I need to do,” she says, mysteriously.

Well, what she needs to do really is a mystery. I have no idea. Any suggestions most welcome, before the book has to be submitted in August please….

Roaming emotions

Posted on May 18, 2010 by helena

This morning on the treadmill at the gym I suddenly found myself in tears watching a concert on Arte of Prokofiev’s Romeo & Juliet.

It has been a morning like most others, everyone is fine, and this afternoon we have a press trip to Atlantis to look forward to with the children, followed by free dinner. Which would normally make me extremely happy. So what was it? A sudden, terrible longing for culture? Deep-rooted memories linked to that particular ballet, which I can’t remember? Or maybe the fact that I had another 20 minutes to go on the treadmill….?

Whatever it was, the music was astoundingly beautiful, if you have time, listen to it today. But keep your tissues handy.

A novel way to look at washing up

Posted on May 14, 2010 by helena

I have just spent four hours in my kitchen, washing up, murdering cockroaches, preparing dinner (Sobu noodles with vegetables along with baked salmon which is marinading as I write) and baking a cake. Unlike a lot of houses here in Abu Dhabi, ours has a rather lovely, large kitchen. The reason most of them don’t is that the builders or rather the architects assumed no one of any significance was ever going to go into the kitchen. Appalling but true.

Every day bar Friday, my kitchen belongs to our lovely housemaid Schamanee. Her first question every morning is ‘what for the lunch, Madam?’ Her second question is ‘what for the dinner?’ Similarly every day except Fridays my gorgeous Volvo belongs to our driver Mohamed Ali. I rarely see it, as it used to ferry the children around and I am always in the office.

The last couple of Fridays I have begun to notice what a treat it is to be in control of my kitchen and my car. I drive to the supermarket listening to the World Service or Mika. Then I come home and put all my shopping away and start preparing lunch. The children sometimes come and chat to me, or shout at me, Rupert sits and reads the newspaper on the sofa.

Today a friend was over and we talked non-stop while I polished surfaces, chopped up vegetables and boiled noodles. It felt so good to be cooking again, almost to the point of being creative. And baking a cake made me feel like the perfect wife and mother, for at least 10 seconds. I pottered about in my Kath Kidston apron brandishing a J-cloth feeling remarkably zen and at peace with the world, apart from when I saw a cockroach that is, and I turned into a Jiff-murderer.

I know that for most people kitchen chores are just that, but I just want to put on record what a joy a task that involves no brain-power, is edible and leaves you with clean surfaces can be.

Obviously I have now had to take to my bed from exhaustion, but thankfully dinner is ready and tomorrow I go back to my normal routine…..Have a lovely weekend.

Leo’s life plan

Posted on May 11, 2010 by helena

There are not many upsides to Leo coming into our bed at 3am but here are two. First at 6am I was woken up by him laughing in his sleep. It was a rather delightful way to be woken up, by a little toothless chuckling boy. Then when he woke up he told his father and me of his life plans.

“First I am going to go to university,” he said. “Then I am going to play for Chelsea and then I am going to get married.”

“Who are you going to marry?” asked Rupert.

Leo sat up in bed and gave his father what can only be described as an old-fashioned look.

“Of course I don’t know,” he said. “I have to look around first.”

Meanwhile both he and Bea have beaten the waiting lists and got into the most gorgeous little ENGLISH primary school here in Abu Dhabi for next school year. It is called The Pearl and just looks lovely. Added to which my friend Noch’s daughter is going to go there too. So we can hang out and gossip about the other mothers. Bea will have a school uniform; you cannot imagine how much stress that will save us in the mornings. Leo will of course have one too and he will play rugby and cricket and football. And they even have basketball nets!

I am so proud of my little ones; they had a long test which they must have passed. Considering they have only ever been schooled in the French system they have done brilliantly. Olivia is going to sit an entrance exam for Repton in Dubai so fingers crossed for her as well.

And Rupert and I are looking forward to finally being able to understand their homework….

A different world

Posted on May 6, 2010 by helena

This morning Leo talked to me about “the other France”, by which he means the France where Norrie and Mary our friends in the Savoie live and not the Languedoc where we are. It got me thinking about how different a child’s world is.

England is waking up to a new world this morning, although final results are still not in. Personally I think it will be a better one. At least Dishy Dave will make a fresh-faced change from crusty old Gordon.

I can’t believe only 65% of the population voted. OK so I have to admit I didn’t, but the administrative nightmare of organising a postal vote is just too much. And actually as we were residents in “our” France for nine years before coming here I’m not sure we’re even eligible.

In August we go to France; both our France and Norrie and Mary’s. I can’t wait to see all our friends and the familiar landscape. We will also go to “my” London, where I hope we will stay with our friend Virginia and close to all the things that make London so special (M&S, the Phoenix pub, Waterstone’s, LK Bennet etc) whoever is in charge.

Have a good weekend and I leave you with a picture of the now almost totally toothless wonder and his sister.

City of Life

Posted on May 1, 2010 by helena

Last night I went to see the first full-length film made here in the UAE; it is called City of Life, is set in Dubai and was directed by a young (and not unattractive) man called Ali Mostafa (pictured below). I ran into him at an even earlier this year and was thrilled to find we have so much in common. For example, we’re both in the Ahlan Hot 100. Yes, one of the few advantages of being in the Ahlan Hot 100 is that you get to bother fellow hotties.

Anyway, the film is OK, really very good in parts. Although some of the dialogue is so trite it makes you squirm in your seat and the acting (especially by one of the female leads) reminded me of myself in the only play I was ever in at Durham where the critic wrote about my “purely decorative role”. At the time I was so stupid I took that as a compliment. Actually this particular ‘actress’ wasn’t even pretty enough to warrant that damning praise.

The three main characters are a rich Emirati, an East European air stewardess and an Indian taxi driver who dreams of being a Bollywoood star. Of all of them he is by far the most sympathetic and believable; I longed for him to make it. Funnily enough I thought it was the rich Emirati who was the one with least hope, despite his money and red Ferrari.

It was really interesting to see life here on the big screen and I hope there will be many more films as a result of this pioneering one. Although my friend Justine may disagree, she left halfway through. I obviously stayed on just in case the director pitched up….