Intervarsities Part 1: The Prodigal Returns...

Wednesday 21st February I returned home to Ireland for the Irish Intervarsities. I'd changed my flight from the Friday to the Wednesday since there was no training in Paris that week since the club was closed for the mid-term ski holiday. Hence I thought I'd get a couple of days at home before the weekend and maybe get in a few training sessions back home.

I flew CityJet/Air France back to Dublin and arrived mid-afternoon. After returning home and recanting my stories from the last two weeks to my Mum and Granny. I went to training in Salle Dublin.

There was myself and another sabreur, Stephen, that's all there was to fence in sabre. It reminded me why I left, I suppose. I don't know how Stephen puts up with it. The two of us were fencing weapons other than sabre on the weekend so we took the oppurtunity to fence epee or foil; so that saved the session from being a complete waste.

Back Again, Again to Training

I arrived back to Paris on Thursday in plenty of time for a training. The usual mini-tournament was held that night. The club also had visitors in the form of the Venezualan team who I'd met the week before. I joked with them they were following me around. "You're definitely following me around. I was in Budapest and Paris first".

I was reasonably pleased with how I fenced in the competition and hopefully I can build up some form over the next couple of weeks and tournaments.

First night back to training...

I'm in considerable pain as I write this and my muscles try to tear themselves away from my skeleton after the exhertion of tonight's training.

Good to see everyone again down at the club. Tonight was my first bout of serious exercise in weeks and I'm probably going to pay for it tomorrow. This weekend I'll be making the considerable mini-bus journey to Grenoble for my second circuit national tournament. I'm fairly relaxed heading into this competition, since it doesn't necessarily mean anything for my rankings and is an excellent oppurtunity to get some fencing against excellent opposition more akin to that I'll be fencing at A-grades over the rest of the season. I'm looking for an improvement on my last result but achieving some level of satisfaction with how I fence is the main goal.

I joined a gym today and tomorrow morning I'm going to head down there for the first time... or lie in bed in agony till 3. Maybe I'll finally get round to buying a duvet for the apartment and finally shed my sleeping bag. I might even have time for some ice-skating to.

It's tough... but someone's got to do it!

Once More Into The Breach...

I'm heading back over to France very early tomorrow morning, with a slight detour via Brussels for the weekend. If anyone is Paris-wards bound over the next year, be sure to let me know.

Who knows what crazy adventures serious training, focus and sobriety will bring.

Stay tuned, bat-fans!

Back to training...

The return to training wasn't half as bad as I thought it would be. That day I went out of my way to eat as much fruit and salad as possible to lessen the blow that serious exercise was no doubt going to be.

As it happens I had a great training session and got a lesson from one of the coaches... maybe I should do that every weekend.

The Longest Weekend Part 1: Thursday Night After Training

...Some friends visit and I undo any training I've done over the last 6 months.

Although I was aware of their impending arrival, nothing could prepare me for the exhausting terror that lay before us.

After training on Thursday evening, I received a text from David and Keith prompting me to meet them on the quays by Notre Dame. At about 10.30pm I reached the agreed spot on the Seine to find them enoying smuggled contraband. Yes, that's right... Red Bull (it's illegal in France and rightly so). There may have been some Aldi or equivalently cheap vodka in their Volvic bottle but I neglected to ask them. Either way they seemed pleased with themselves.

Our first port of call was to the Long Hop, a bar where David used to work. His friends there (friends I would later compare to being friends with your heroine dealer) were so pleased to see him they decided to try and kill the three of us with alcohol.

As the evening wore on and the Long Hop was preparing to close we began to plan our next move. David lead us to a night club with a student night somewhere near the 7th via another bar with some friends of his, the Vileune Dingue (or VD's -lovely). Unfortunately, the lovely bouncers on the door informed us we couldn't get in. This all lead to our first taxi journey of the evening and undoubtedly the most ridiculous.

I knew that my friends from the Irish College were heading to a big student night in a place called Mix by Montparnasse, so I suggested we try and head that direction. Eventually, we got a taxi and we tried to explain where we were going. He seemed to make up his mind after a while and started off. He dropped us a very small bar. Our suspicions should have been raised when the bar only had a small porthole window in it, through which the bouncer looked out. We walked in the door, myself in the rear. The taxi driver had brought us to a brothel, we made a sharp u-turn, we walked out of the door.

After several minutes of hysterical laughter, we paused to wonder what to do next. In the end we did what comes naturally to people at that hour of the night - we went to get a kebab.

As myself and Keith tucked into our Kebabs it became apparent to us that David had disappeared. As I reached for my French Mobile to call him it also becamse apparent that my French mobile had disappeared and as Keith reached for his, that his mobile was out of credit. I tried calling him several times on my Irish phone but couldn't get a connection. I sent him several texts in the hope that he couldn't answer because he had no credit and told him to meet us at the Irish College, which was nearby and which we all knew how to find.

When we got to the Irish College we managed to get in and to regroup for a while in the Kitchen - it was now pouring rain. Eventually, I heard someone calling my name from outside the window. David had found his way to the Irish College - he didn't seem best pleased. Apparently public urination is frowned upon in France, along with most of the western world. When a plane clothes policeman approached Dave and told him as much, David's natural reaction was to suggest that he should go away in no uncertain terms. David spent the next hour in a room in the police station.

With the three of us united once again we set off for David's where I spent the night sleeping on the floor. In the morning David explained there was some cushion which could be arranged into a mattress in the wardrobe...

Ch-Ch-Changes

I must leave the Centre Culturel Irlandais this Friday and I can't but help the feeling that living on my own is going to be a lot less comfortable in many ways.

I just started to really get to know people here and get into the swing of things when now I have to leave. I've made some good friends here already and that's a massive asset to have here in this country with it's crazy language and people and I'm sure I'll call back regularly.

Yesterday, I collected my keys for the apartment from my land-lady. I met her at the apartment and with all the furniture removed and cleaning materials strewn all over the place for the first time I was slightly less excited by the novelty of having my own place. It really reminded me of Brian Keenan's "Sugar Cube" cell in an Evil Cradling - there wasn't even curtains up at the time and the walls are absolutely plain white. I'm quite convinced I'll go mad there. I suppose it's only natural when I've become confortable where I am to dread changing my surroundings again. Hopefully when I settle into a rythmn there and make it a bit more personal a space then everything will be fine.

...

In terms of training, I feel I'm fencing a bit better this week. The long break over the weekend did me good and I feel fully recovered and ready to get right back into it. Again, last night I fenced a series of matches until I could fence no longer. I feel a bit sharper but I need to start fencing more cleverly and being more conscious of correcting the mistakes I'm making. Hopefully, that'll come with a bit more coaching as well as expanding my repetoir of tactics.

...

Champagne And Blisters...

...It's tough training in Paris.

In the wake of the competition in Damigny last weekend and the podium placement of our fencers, Eve Pouteil-Noble, in the women's competition, there was again a few bottles of champagne after training. This came on the back of a draining and dehydrating three-hour session so I made the best of the champagne I drank. I've promised to bring along some Whiskey to one of these Wednesday night gatherings.

It was a good nights training as well. I fenced a lot of matches again and already I'm starting to feel like a regular, thanks to the hospitality of my new team-mates. I've picked up some lazy habits in Ireland and it's going to take a conscious effort over the next while to correct these so I can really start to challenge my clubmates and eventually opponents at international level. That is why I'm here afterall.

...

Thursday, I set up my bank account with HSBC with in 30 minutes and if I recommend another customer I get some free gifts. So, if anyone wants to set up a French bank-account in the next couple of days, give me a shout.

...


Early on Saturday morning, I'm catching a train to Amsterdam for the Amsterdam Coup de Nord. It's a four-hour train journey but a hell of a lot cheaper than than by plane. I don't know how the hell I'll amuse myself for four hours on the train. Maybe they'll hvae internet connection on the train and I can post an endless stream of consciousness for the trip.

People are all very excited that I'm going to Amsterdam for the weekend. I try to explain to them my itinery -

Sat
8am Gare du Nord - Train to Amsterdam
12pm - Arrive Amsterdam Central. - Taxi to hotel
1pm Check-in Holiday Inn Amsterdam
2pm Go to weapons check at venue and get some lunch
7pm - Eat alone
9pm - Sleep


Sun
8am check-in at competition
4pm Competition over
7pm Eat alone
8pm Maybe a few drinks if anyone I know is around


Mon
10am check-out
12pm Train from Central Station Amsterdam
4pm Return to Paris

So, I'm in Amsterdam but it might as well be any other Holiday Inn, Train Station and Sports Venue in the world. I'm just being a bit of a moaney bitch this morning really. "Look at me, I have to travel the world - Oh, woe is me!" The Coup de Nord circuit is generally great fun and I'm really looking forward to the weekend.

Ciao

Stepping Up Training And Changing Banks

My plan for this week at training is to appear very enthusiastic and serious at training with the eventual goal of next week asking one of the coaches for lessons. To this end, tonight I fenced at least 10 15-point matches - I'm absolutely exhausted and my feet are badly blistered. Only two more days of this and then my plan will be complete. I'll let you know how that works out for me.

I've been trying to set up a bank account here. On the advice of a letting agent I went to BRED (yeah, I didn't trust the name when I heard it first either). Very kindly, she agreed to help talk with the teller and explain my situation. In the end, I had call a special international department since I'm a foreigner. After a brief phone interview, they agreed to end me the forms. They implied that the forms would be easy to fill in and that I could have the bank account within the week.

This morning, a bulging envelope arrived with about thirty pages in it. In order to open an account with this bank I had to post them (since everything had to go through there foreign office rather than just any branch) :

• Two forms of ID
• Two differnt proof of address
• Three last pay slips
• My last income tax statement
• My last three bank statements
• A letter of recommendation from my bank in Ireland
• A cheque so that fees could be immediately

And this was before I got to the 30 pages of forms that I had no idea what they were saying or even what their names meant:

• Fiche de reseignement confidentiels
• Document de demande d'ouverture de compte
• Carton de specimens de signatories
• Document d'option fiscale
• 1er feuillet du document denommé 'conditions particuliéres' inclus dans convention de compte

This was my first smack in mouth of French bureaucracy and I did not like it one bit. To collect all this would probably have taken me the best part of a month.

Just to see if this was the norm I rang HSBC. All they need is the ID's, Proof of Address and a bank statement from home. I'm setting up an account with them Thursday afternoon. What a waste of time...

Goodnight!