I was looking forward to spending two nights, including New Years Eve with two of my fantastic friends, Rob and Anthony, at their country house, 1.5 hours west of Lyon. That and the fact there would be not one, not two, but THREE dogs at the house, and when you’re as obsessed with dogs like I am, this was very good news!
We arrived early evening on the 30th, and were shown to our beautiful room (WITH EN SUITE), before sitting down in the kitchen to a delicious dinner and lots of catching up.
Everyone retired to bed with the intention of a trip to Lyon the next day. Except, that wasn’t to be the case. I hadn’t been feeling well for some time, and at 4am that morning, whatever it was that was making me feel so poorly, hit me like a brick wall. When the chronic stomach pain hadn’t subsided by the next morning, I knew Lyon was not on my agenda for the day.
The boys (and dogs) head off to Lyon, and we started our morning off slowly, staying in pyjama’s, inhaling painkillers, and just lazing around the house, until I felt a little more human. (Don’t be fooled by these smiley photos, I was feeling very fragile!).
When I started to feel a little more human we wandered along the country lanes into the village.
Along the way we saw everything from horses to wild rabbits. Everything was quiet and the air was so clean, a complete contrast to the hustle and bustle of city living.
The tiny village consisted of not much more than some pretty houses, a boulangerie and a church.
We wandered the quiet streets, being thankful for the peace and quiet after a rocky sleep and feeling so unwell.
It was time to start thinking about heading home, and taking a drive to the grocery store for dinner supplies.
Is it just me, or do some of you LOVE visiting foreign supermarkets too? We picked up food for dinner, and conveniently walked up the confectionery aisle, where we spotted chocolate that we simply couldn’t leave the store without. At about that time, the painkillers were wearing off rapidly, and I retreated to the backseat of the car to lay down.
What was going on? I had no idea, but I was miserable. So miserable, we decided to change our flights to an earlier departure the next day so I could get back to the UK and see a doctor.
With the help of more painkillers, and the distraction and love from the puppies, I made it through dinner.
We lounged around for the evening, determined to see in the new year. Some of us were managing to stay awake better than others!
The clock ticked over to 2016, we said happy new year, and eventually made our way to bed, for what we assumed was a 6am wake up call, to drive back to Lyon. Except it wasn’t 6am, it was 4am when I woke up in so much pain that waiting until we got back to the UK was no longer an option. At 4.30am, we were racing through country lanes (thanks for the dodgy route Google Maps, grrr!), full of fog, and eventually made it to a hospital. Drips, painkillers, blood tests and me writhing around like I was in labour with the devils child pretty much sums up the next 3 hrs! When the bloods were clear, and the seriously strong painkillers had taken away the worst of it, we rebooked new flights (argh) and made our way to the airport.
It’s not how anyone imagines spending New Years Eve, but despite all the pain, I still have fond memories of France!
Back in London I spent the following day in A&E having more tests, and I could look at this as a bad start to my year, but I’m choosing to see it as a sign of an adventurous 2016 ;o)