Please Don’t Hate Us, Ottawa Peeps

Writing these posts from France feels a bit as though I’ve abandoned a sinking ship and am sending “Wish you were here” postcards back to the people still on board. We left Ottawa after a long, hard winter, with seemingly constant weather warnings – extreme cold warning, freezing rain warning, heavy snowfall warning, winter storm warning – and it hasn’t improved much in the weeks since we left, with a state of emergency declaration and floods (in select areas). And the current forecast includes snow, freezing rain, ice pellets and more heavy rain.

Meanwhile, our day included a picturesque village, tea/coffee and pastries on a sunny patio, a picnic lunch, and basking in the sun with a glass of wine. So…I can see how I might lose a few readers. Then again, not many of you would have traded places with us a year ago, so that’s how it goes I guess.

Speaking of basking…we spent some time in Basque country this week. In my ignorance of Basque history, I presumed, based on geography, that the language would resemble French or Spanish. Not so. Basque has no known relationship to any other language and is believed to pre-date Indo-European languages in Western Europe.

Basques primarily inhabit the area of northern Spain and southwestern France known as Basque Country, and have struggled to preserve their culture and language (in some cases resorting to violence – the ETA, a Basque separatist group, used terrorist tactics in their campaign for independence, but they declared a ceasefire in 2011, and officially disbanded last year). The Basques hold many festivals to celebrate their Basque-ness, including the one Ray  and I attended in Saint-Étienne-de-Baïgorry, just a few kilometres from the Spanish border.

The family-friendly portion of the festival included a parade featuring traditional music, dance and folklore figures.

We arrived mid-morning and alcohol was already flowing freely. When we left, the parked cars stretched as far as we could see, with thousands of Basques descending on this small village, ready to party into the wee hours of the morning.

On our way home, we stopped in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, the most touristy town we’ve visited so far (as evidenced by the fact that places were open in the middle of the day). We had lunch and walked the ramparts, looking at centuries-old buildings, castles, fortified walls, and other things that existed before Canada was even a twinkle in Britain’s eye.

So, if you’re still reading this Ottawa friends, hang in there! Spring is just around the corner!