Scenes from Gare de Lyon

We wait for the lift. We've been waiting a few minutes. It's quite bleak in the vestibule and a French couple are waiting behind us. 

The doors open: a family with a buggy and luggage, a man at the back. Nobody moves. The man at the back tries to exit but the man in front of him is not interested in moving. He says, in English, 'Well I can't get out, you'll have to wait.' The man behind him gently protests, in French-accented English, to no avail. A few seconds of muttering ensue. 

The doors close on this unfortunate tableau.

Moments later, they reopen. Frustrated Frenchman tries again to leave, Rude Englishman tells him he 'should have taken the fucking escalator'. Something in me goes ping. 

Me: oh do you need help! Please, let me help! *rushes forward and grabs suitcase and huge bag of pampers from Rude Man before he can react*

Rude Man: I don't want to get out

Me: I know you don't, but he does

Rude Man: Well he could have taken the fucking escalator

Me: And you could be less rude

Surprisingly, this cows Rude Man, who retrieves his belongings and gets back in the lift. In the brief interim, Frenchman has exited, so all seems well. The doors close on him and his stoic wife and children. 

Moments later, the doors open again. Rude Man's humiliation deepens and he repeatedly and helplessly jabs the button for the floor he is on. 'There are only two levels,' I say, 'the one you came from and this one'. 'But there are three buttons!' he replies. He's not wrong, but it is quite clear that this is the floor they are meant to be on. They exit the lift. He stalks away, muttering 'Go fuck yourself' at me, but quietly, and from a distance. His wife and children follow.

'Have a great day!' I call after him. We laugh. The French couple laugh. We all board the lift and get on with our days. 

The only trouble with exchanges like this is, I fear he will be utterly horrible to his wife and children for the rest of the day.

Also, one day I'm going to get punched.

2026 Week 7

A little late but I am on holiday, let me off. 

The last week of term flew by in a predictably swift way. I managed to power through quite a lot of marking, peaking on Wednesday, when I finished marking my Y13 mocks in time to give them back before the end of term. This was an utter triumph but marked the end of my productivity on this front, which is why I was marking GCSE mocks on the train from Paris to Oulx on Sunday. On Thursday, I allowed myself a swift stomp down to Farro as I was just staring at the wall, intellectually paralysed; happily, their blood orange and chocolate Danish, combined with the walk, managed to kick me into some sort of working mood so I did get some things planned. I'd be happier if I'd got more done but, then, wouldn't that just mean I would have thought of other things that needed doing?

Not much happened by way of leisure. I went to the gym, to yoga and to see my PT, but I skipped the sauna as I was meant to be giving blood, which in the end I had to postpone, on account of having had a bit of a cold the previous week. Annoying. 

I ordered a new ski boot bag and spent two evenings lovingly rearranging things within it. Packing for skiing was harder than usual, I was just very unsure about what I would need, and being on the train meant I didn't have to limit myself, so naturally I overpacked. 

I was verily glued to the Winter Olympics on the TV, enjoying a lot of things but particularly the snowboard cross and the figure skating. I might be the only person in the world who doesn't like Ilia Mallinin. Reading-wise, I pulled out two teen novels that are such easy reads - The Fortunate Few by Tim Kennemore and Lioness Rampant by Tamora Pierce, reading both in the space of a week because I know them both extremely well. It's comforting to go back to old favourites. It must nearly be time for the The Dark Is Rising reread. 

On Saturday, Rachael and I started our journey to skiing. We spent Saturday afternoon wandering around Paris and had a nice dinner that involved French onion soup (a must for me). On Sunday, we hung out at Gare de Lyon most of the day as their left luggage was taking only cash and, even then, only coins...who has 25 euros in coins, I had to wonder. There was an incident with a rude man but I will write separately about that as I wrote the story down on my phone immediately afterwards, for blogging purposes. 

Our onward journey to Oulx was slightly marred by the fact that our seats had been taken by some schoolchildren and we were escorted to what seemed, to me, to be very inferior seats; but then, it was probably better than being in the middle of a carriage of schoolchildren. That carriage smelled pretty awful when we went to retrieve our luggage, 5 hours later. 

We were also delayed and missed the last bus to our accommodation and, it turned out, Italy doesn't really do taxis in its ski resorts on a Sunday night. After half an hour of ringing every number I could find, one of the pre-booked drivers took pity on us and ran us up the mountain, thankfully. Just as we arrived, it started to snow, and it hasn't really stopped until this afternoon. Dreamy. 

More ski news in next week's update. 

Early Spring Goals

Full goblin mode this term. It was all self-care, like mulching in my chrysalis for six weeks, so I can emerge this weekend onto the ski slopes as a rejuvenated butterfly. 

The fails first: no way was I going to be able to use up the Lush, when I counted I had about two dozen baths in the box and that was without the stash deep dive (found some bath bombs that are at least 15 years old, for example). But I did have more baths. The hair and face masks - hair, yes; face, turns out I didn't actually have many face masks in my stash. I must have been remembering a bygone glut. So I used up the ones I had but, quite quickly. The secret husband day out...well, it was planned and we were all ready to go with the tickets, but unfortunately Mr Z has had a very bad foot for over a week now and so we had to cancel. No complaints from me as I was able to stay home and watch the women's downhill, but a shame, as I'm sure he would have enjoyed it. 

But the successes! Cannot believe I managed 15 gym visits. Adding the hot yoga, six regular yogas and six PT sessions, I've exercised on 29 days out of the first 43. Not too shabby. The last gym visit was a monumental slog, but I am as fit as I can be for skiing. I learned the skillup machine (cross country ski machine, you might call it) and am working it into my regular routine. 

I deleted Facebook off my phone and I haven't actually missed it. I read it every evening on my computer until I see something racist or bigoted in some other way, and then I close it. Sometimes that happens depressingly quickly.  

I've built up to one minute in the five degree cold plunge at the sauna. I have discovered I really like going there in the rain. I went for a pedicure with my old beautician who's set out on her own, which was a lovely catch up and great to support a small business. And I did some cleaning jobs, but mainly I am pleased about my new routine of a Friday night reset, putting away all the clothes and cleaning the kitchen. That will be one to bring into the Late Spring goals list. 

I feel very accomplished. No idea what else to put on for the next round, though. 

Tuesday Ten

Ten pictures from Sauze d'Oulx

On Saturday, Rachael and I are off skiing to Sauze d'Oulx. It will be my sixth visit there but my first this early in the season and my first without a coachload of teenagers. Sauze holds a very special place in my heart because it was the first place I went skiing as an adult, back in 2006. Here's my 2006 blog rundown of that trip, which pre-dates this iteration -

Skiing was amazing, though. It came back to me surprisingly quickly - the whole kick-your-heels-up-the-mountain thing to stop, snow ploughing, falling over…easy peasy. The first day was pretty bleak; it snowed all day and by the end we were all soaked through (wet April snow) and freezing and very miserable. On top of that, the basic run took us 90 minutes to complete and nobody could see more than a few feet ahead of them. One girl was so blinded by the snow she skied straight off the path and down a snow drift. We all looked on complacently as the ski instructor pulled her out. The next day, when visibility was clear, we realized exactly what she'd nearly fallen down, and a whole new page to my risk assessment for next year was born.

Anyway, by the end of Monday I was deeply regretting booking a trip. I was very fed up, and not finding the other staff overly friendly (well duh…they'd only met me the day before, and we'd been up all night on the coach together), and feeling pretty sorry for myself. So I drowned my sorrows in a vat of red wine, and had to ski the next day with the dehydration that represents the worst hangover symptom I ever suffer from. This was more of a problem than it sounds - I didn't want to drink too much water and risk having to wee in a ceramic hole halfway up a mountain whilst clutching my jumpers, t-shirt and jacket to me in a vain attempt to keep them from soaking up the waste products of previous weak-bladdered skiers; but on the other hand I had the whole dry-mouth, whirly-world thing going on. Thankfully (!) by this point the bus had completely broken down, so we had to walk to the ski lift - 20 minutes uphill - by which point I was feeling more human. From Tuesday on we had the most glorious sunny weather, and it didn't break until Saturday when we had a little more light snow.

Honestly, I could wax lyrical about my trip for pages. I could tell you about the competitive kids who were always cutting me up. I could tell you about the instructor ("My very compliments to you Sally…Sally ees very nice person, yes, you kids agree with me, yes?"). I could tell you about skiing in the slalom race and coming 3rd in my group and winning the bronze medal. I could tell you about the copious amounts of red wine we quaffed every night. I could mention the night at the pizza place, the morning in Bardonecchia watching boarders attempt the Olympic half-pipe (and one very athletic skier). I could even, if you really wanted, give you a blow-by-blow account of the 12 hour coach journey back, and how we missed our ferry because the girls were too squeamish to use the hole-in-the-ground toilets at the service stations and insisted on queueing up for the disabled loo. But I'm not going to. I'll save it all for next year's trip.

Fell down a diario hole reading through my 2006 blog. I was very funny, obviously, but also, wow, life as a teacher was wildly different. Also, that 90 minute run, I can now complete in well under 5 minutes. I might time myself next week, just for comparison. 

After the 2006 inspection visit with another school, I didn't come back until 2009, when I brought my school two Easters in a row. Then I brought my new school in 2018, when I took control of the ski trip, and then the infamous 2023 trip that involved the 58 hour coach journey. I'm delighted to find we're going to be staying opposite the hotel we went to for the last two trips, it's very near to a lift. I'm excited about being able to ski to town level and do actual apres. I'm hoping there will be some sort of seasonal ski show. I'm desperate to ski all the way to France and back in a day. And, of course, I can visit my favourite cake shop down the mountain. 

Here are the pictures. It took some digging. 

1. 2006. Ski clothes loaned to me by the tour operator. Recognise the t-shirt?

2. Someone from the forum knitted me this hat. No helmet because why would you. No goggles. Gloves not mittens (ugh, sacrilege). That magic little super speedy two man chair that left bruises on the back of your legs. 

3. 2009. With my own school. There's a second version of this picture where we've all collapsed into each other. The absolute best ski trip buddies of all time: this was the first of (I cannot believe it was only) four trips together. 

4. This cafe though. 

5. 2010. Same two-man chair. Helmet now because I tried to buy boots on the first day and they couldn't find any to fit me, so I bought the helmet instead. Then got boots the next day. 

6. There's a great picture of me skiing by with my poles on my head, wind whipping up my helmetless hair, but I had to put in a deckchair one, obvs. 

7. 2018. Helmet (second one: 2014 purchase) and goggles because I was so heavily influenced by my ski trip buddy Tom and now I can't ski any other way. I had to put in a snowy one, obvs. This was my first trip with the new school and I wanted to go somewhere where I felt confident. 

8. New ski trip buddies. Alex's first time skiing. This was costume day and I am meant to be Wonderwoman. I had an argument with piste patrol about the correct treatment for one of my students, and won it. I was only wearing sunglasses because it was lunchtime, honest. 

You have to pretend this one isn't here because it brings my count to 11, but I had to squeeze in the deckchairs. 

9. 2023. First one back post-covid. So joyful, even with the journey from hell. Bloody Brexit. 

10. Same deckchairs. Noticably less snow. 

2026 Week 6

I emerged from goblin mode this week and had quite a pleasant one, all things considered. Work feels manageable; I said to Becky at the start of the week that I thought I might be able to finish my to-do list this week and it very nearly happened. I was able to advance some work projects that were irking me, too, so they're not done but at least they're in progress. I worked away on my new exam board job for probably far more hours than would be covered by the fee (note to self: set a timer next time) and managed to submit a little early. No dissertation work happened but I had a good conversation with other teacher friends today about it and it has made me feel more positive and eager to move forward with it. 

I was sharing a car with said teacher friends on a return trip to London for a history conference on Saturday. I've not been to this one before because, really, it's not so useful for me to go to history conferences these days, due to my changed job role. But I have been to so many over the years that, when I don't go, I realise I miss out on the social aspect of being embedded in my subject community. It really felt like I knew half of the people there today, many of whom I had not seen for a number of years, and I was able to make some introductions that I hope will be helpful for a friend trying to get a job in a new area. Plus they had a great historian to speak and I enjoyed that a lot. Only one bad workshop. Another from one of the people who interviewed me when I went for that job at the big O in 2020, that was quite good. Interesting to see the inside of another school. The post-conference pub visit and the road trip might have been the best bit though.

I continued with all the usual self-care things - three gym trips, yoga, PT session, sauna. I listlessly knitted on the watermelon cowl, I'm not really into it for some reason. I didn't really read as I was up too late doing my new exam job to do much reading afterwards. I've been watching a lot of winter Olympics lead up stuff on the new winter sports channel that has appeared. Love the winter Olympics. I can't decide how I feel about Lindsey Vonn doing her ACL but skiing in the downhill anyway, though. I really want to be supportive and think she is a hero...well, she is a hero...but I am nervous for her. It's not just about never skiing again, supposing she can't walk again? I don't know. But I have been doing her ski workouts that I nick from the gram and they are good, I know she is in peak physical condition. 

Writing this on Saturday night for posting on Sunday and it's occurred to me that, by this time tomorrow, she will have competed so I can come back with my verdict. 

....well. That did not end well. Never good when you can hear the screaming from the drone footage. 

Throwaway Thursday - the golden glitter

An occasional series that I might also title, 'Things in my house that are basically rubbish but I am a borderline hoarder and cannot bring myself to throw them out'. The idea is to memorialise such things here and then bin them for good. 

Boy, do I have a treat for you. I present - some golden craft glitter that I bought in the 90s. 

As you can see, there is not much left and it has lost its lid. Why do I still give it house room? Well, for one thing, these are the OG microplastics and how one safely disposes of these things now is anybody's guess. For another, I have some fond memories of it. 

I used to use this as a glitter eyeliner, which makes me want to cry now, and not just as a contact lens wearer. How did I not go blind? I also used to rub cocoa butter on my limbs and then sprinkle it liberally over myself before going out clubbing - I have a vivid memory of doing this before going to some 70s club round the back of Oxford Street, when I wore my PVC dress and we took many pictures which Justine never had developed. The next day, the guy from work I'd sort of been seeing picked me up from work and took me on the infamous worst date of my life (I am bound to have written about it on here before) which involved driving from Brent Cross to the Dartford Bridge and back, and that was it; I had managed about two hours of sleep and was still covered in glitter, because my house didn't have a shower and I hadn't had time for a bath. It was our last date, obviously. I like to think some of that glitter stayed on his passenger seat for the rest of the time he owned the car, it would be some small restitution. 

The last time I can remember using the glitter like this was on this night in Ibiza in 2002, when we went to see Dave Pearce at Eden -

Shortly after this picture was taken, the front barman picked me up for another photo, which sadly I can't find (I think it involved some unflattering leg angles though, honestly, at my current age and weight, I cannot believe I could find any picture of me from 2002 unflattering); when he put me down again he was mystified as to what had happened to his arms, which were covered in a mixture of this glitter and Lush's King of Skin. Good luck getting that off, mate. 

That creepy barman on the right (the one I am leaning away from) grabbed me and tried to kiss me when I was the last person in the bar one night, so grim: an experience that lightly taints the pictures from this trip. 

Anyway. I won't use this as a cosmetic anymore, now that I respect my skin and eyes; I did use some of it for making photo frames, back when I used to do that; half of it spilled in the top drawer of the filing cabinet; what possible use could I have for what is left? 

It is pretty, though. 

Tuesday Ten - 2025 part 4

31. What did you do on your birthday?
I got my nails done, then drove into Bristol and got softserve and a babka from a favourite bakery. Mr Z made curry and flatbreads for tea. Other than that, I packed for my holiday, worked on my metanalysis and was quiet at home. I don't often have birthdays at home so that made a change but it was also quite muted because we were into Mother Z's final fortnight, though we didn't know it, so Mr Z spent much of the day round there. 

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

I really can't think of anything. It was quite a satisfying year. As I think I've mentioned before, I would have liked more down time, but I'm not sure that really fits the word satisfying. 

33. How would you describe your personal fashion this year?
Dopamine dressing. Colour. How a primary school child might dress for an office job. 

I have reintroduced trousers into my wardrobe this year, now that there is less belly. I had my Vietnam-crafted suit trousers taken in at a local mender's and bought some pink herringbone tweed trousers from Boden (with the jacket - the suit feels a bit much worn all together but I do get compliments). I hadn't really worn trousers to work for about 10 years, apart from loose palazzo-style under short dresses, so that was new. 

My favourite new shop discovery was Aligne. I have spent so long shopping in just one or two places, resigned to the fact nobody stocks bigger sizes, that I stopped looking elsewhere, so it was pleasant to discover that many brands have moved on a bit now and do stock an extended size range. My only issue with Aligne is that their dresses are so short, especially for those of us who are long of body and fat of thigh - what should be a clean and slightly angular look becomes positively salacious on me. I am also quite picky in that I don't like midi or maxi length, really: I want something between mid-thigh and knee. It's not really a bad thing that there are not loads of items in the range I want to buy, though. I do probably have enough clothes to last me for the rest of my life. 

I also bought more pearls. I got a long string at Wonderwool and then a double row with a big crystal flower clasp from an antiques stall at a little market in Oxford. Then Mr Z gifted me pearl earrings for Christmas. I believe this is me leaning into middle-age jewellery, as if my burgeoning collection of brooches didn't already indicate this clearly enough. 

34. What kept you sane?

Mr Z. The cats. Getting more sleep. Doing hot and cold things - swimming, sauna. The gym. Actually love the gym now, what a weirdo. 

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you admire the most?

OK, hear me out - I have to choose Charli XCX. I just very much enjoy watching her live her projection of her best life whilst at the same time she is grinding and has been very upfront about the fact that pretty much everyone in her life is someone she wants to work with. I appreciate a woman who loves her work to the point of being unable to ever put it down (one of my tribe). I appreciate the smoking, I miss smoking. I loved the wedding, both of them. I'm really very anti Class A drugs but, meh. 

I'm sure there are lots of people who are more worthy due to their political activism but, honestly, I've probably consumed more content about Charli XCX than anyone else. This feels vaguely pathetic as someone almost old enough to have birthed her but, I must own my truth. 

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Immigration. I am appalled at how anti-immigration rhetoric is now just acceptable mainstream opinion. I hate the fact so many people seem to think people shouldn't be able to claim asylum, the way that it is brutal and deep-seated racism dressed up as something more socially acceptable, that the lies attached to it are repeated and believed by so many seemingly normal people, that it's used as a scapegoat for social issues caused by nearly two decades of reduced public spending because a bunch of super-rich bankers decided to crash the world's economy so they could enrich themselves. I could go on and on and on about how damaging, hateful and, frankly, embarrassing it is. Mostly I just don't talk about it. Nobody will ever change my mind so I don't see much point in trying to change anybody else's.

37. Who did you miss?

I missed my dad far more than I ever expected to. I suppose it's because, though we didn't speak much, we did speak at least once a year. It has now been two years since he died. I don't think there's much I'd have to tell him but I'd be interested in his take on the current political situation, though it has to be said that living in the US had turned some of his views a bit white supremacist - not right-wing, but definitely more than a little bit racist. Or maybe he was always that way but we just never really talked about it. 

38. Who was the best new person you met?

I'm sure I must have met some new people last year but I actually can't remember any of them. 

39. What valuable life lesson did you learn this year?

Actively plan things for downtime. Don't leave it until you get the break, when your decision fatigue, executive dysfunction, whatever you want to call it, will result in all of that relaxation time being whiled away in a combination of scrolling, listlessness, guilt and regret. And you know, it might be easy to say that doing nothing is necessary and is relaxing in itself, and I can agree to a point, but what's MORE relaxing is nourishing mind, body and soul with a carefully-curated selection of your favourite activities and actually having them ready and planned so you don't have to make any choices but can just relax into enjoying them. 

Pretty long life lesson. 

40. What is a quote that sums up your year?

'You can't pour from an empty jug'. 

2026 Week 5

Quite a goblin week this week. I didn't really watch much, knit much or read much. I even cried off knitting yesterday morning. 

I spent much of the week being really annoyed but I wasn't really sure why. I feel like I have too many things to do and I feel creeping dread about getting my dissertation done, it feels as though I have very little time left to do it. I don't really know why; the deadline is not that close. I can't progress my project until I get the go-ahead from work, though, so maybe that's it. So I keep thinking I should change back to my original topic which won't really require any permission. 

Yeah, it's making a bit more sense why I've been in a poor mood for most of the week. 

I did all the self-care things. Monday, gym; Tuesday, sauna; Wednesday, yoga; Thursday, PT; Friday, hot yoga. Baths and early nights. Nice pyjamas. I tried exceptionally hard to eat sensibly. I only had one coffee all week. I kept reminding myself that it is almost thinking about getting light when I leave for work in the mornings now. But, to no avail. Sometimes I think you just have to accept the slump. On Thursday night, I decided I would not sit at my computer, messing around online while feeling bad about not doing the stack of marking I brought home, but would instead sit at my computer and fight my work inbox for an hour. This was very successful. It resulted in a much happier Friday and a much calmer weekend, mainly because I know there aren't a dozen things lurking that I haven't quite done. Maybe that was also the creeping dread. 

I spent a big chunk of Saturday working on my new exam board job. It took me most of the day to get started, predictably, because I wasn't totally sure what to do, but once I got started - yes. This is the exam board job for me. Spotting typos. Grammar pedantry. Considering whether a specific word really insinuates what we want it to. I looked up and it was 11.30pm. 

The only other thing of note this week was that I met a politician at school. He is quite famous. I'm not writing the name because he's also quite divisive. He was a local MP until 2024 and has a reputation for being Victorian and lying on benches. One of our pol teachers wrote to lots of local politicians, inviting them in, and he was the only one who replied, so then we had to have him in, even though our students (and staff) made a half-hearted protest against it. As I imagined he would be, he was scrupulously polite, extremely measured and put across his point of view very well. It was interesting to watch him blow our students' minds a little every time he said something they agreed with. There were some really quite significant holes in his arguments, and I was left a little sad that our lot aren't quite up to pushing back on some of these, but tbf, we did tell them to stay respectful and not bring the school into disrepute, so that might be partly our fault. 

He said at the beginning that, if you want to test if you believe in free speech, you have to listen to people you don't agree with, and I think we can all say we did that. I'm mainly relieved that he didn't use the visit to announce he was moving even further right and joining that other party. I would have thought he would have been above it, as they don't really seem to have any ideology other than, 'Go away', but apparently he is considering it.