France, you really suck sometimes

As tonight is my last night in France, I am really starting to reflect on my time here. Many of my friends/family know that my eight months here was no walk in the park - there were several times where I was so frustrated about living here that all I wanted to do was leave. I have kept a running list of these frustrating items of culture and am posting it below. **Please note: this is a list derived from my personal experiences living in France. I understand these items might have been due to my location in a rural town in Provence and that other people living in other regions may not have had these annoyances.**

Things I will not miss about France

PAPERWORK. Everything here requires a form, and I mean everything. Not only that, but specified documentation for each form as well. Just to open an internet contract, you need a copy of proof of identity, a RIB from your bank proving you have a bank account and a copy of your proof of housing. And then to shut down accounts, you must send a recommended letter to the company - you can't just go into a branch office and say you want to terminate your account. Lots of useless papers, all the time.

 

DISORGANIZATION. I find this to be directly connected with the laid-back attitude that the French have about life. I find it funny that so much paperwork and forms are demanded, because once your give all these items, don't be surprised when it takes two months to process them.

Strikes. Whenever they feel like it. Teachers, transportation, etc. I will be happy to get back to a place where strikes are not so commonplace.

Lack of communication. Specifically in my case, classes being cancelled without one word to me about it. I would show up and wait outside the classroom to see no students and no teacher. 

Nothing being open. Ever. It is a general European standard that everything is closed on Sunday. I can deal with that. But after much research, I have noticed many things closed Monday and Wednesday as well. And most times you can't even trust the hours they have posted on the shops. For example, today, my last day in town, I went to a resale shop to sell some DVDs. The sign said that it should have been open, but it wasn't. I guess I never figured out the schedule of all the shops here. 

NO WIFI. Ok that is an exaggeration - there are now three establishments in Apt that offer free Wifi. If it works. Again, just today I went to my favorite Wifi hole, and it didn't work. Beyond that, internet here costs a ton, and you pay by the usage!

Having to take public transportation to get anywhere/not having a car. This was just my personal experience living in small town France but relying on eight buses a day to get anywhere kind of gets old.

 

Not being to find my shoe size ANYWHERE. Any 42s up  in here? I have been told here that my shoe size is for men.

Taking 2 weeks to get something done that could have gotten done in one day. It’s France’s law.

Poop on the sidewalks. Everywhere. Is it so hard to clean up after your animal?!

The weird hairstyles of French men. Especially the weird version of the undercut hairstyle - only works for Macklemore, dudes. 

Needless to say, I won't be missing these things when I return to the U.S. Happy to say au revoir to these petites choses!

Croatia: The Dalmation of my Eye

Croatia began in exhaustion. After taking an overnight bus from Barcelona to Avignon, we decided to go back to Apt for the day, to relax, repack and do some laundry. It was so nice to go back “home” after a bustling place like Barcelona – a place where we felt like we could take a breath. Then we were off to Marseille. Our plan was to sleep in the airport, as our flight left at 6am the next morning, and there was no easy way to get there otherwise. After arriving at the airport though, we realized exactly how tired we were… and how sketchy the airport might be to sleep in. So we called the Ibis budget hotel to ask about pricing for a room with a free shuttle to the airport. Their answer: 30 euro a night for each of us. Not too bad! We got to sleep in a nice bed for the night and had a provided shuttle at 5am the next morning. 

After getting checked in, I couldn’t help but finding myself a little nervous. It has been quite awhile since my last flight (January to be exact) and you should know by now that I struggle from a little bit of flight anxiety. Nevertheless, we boarded and once we had a smooth take off, I let myself drift off to sleep. At 8:00am, we landed smoothly in Zadar, and I realized flying is not always so bad! While catching the shuttle to the bus station, we met some Canadians who are studying in Aix. They were going to do a cruise through SailCroatia, which island hops the coastline. When you view Croatia’s coast from any vantage point (from the air, car, boat, etc), you can easily see why it is called the Dalmation Coast: little islands pop out one by one along the green-blue water of the Adriatic Sea, creating spots within the beautiful scenery. 

Once we reached the station, we easily bought tickets to Dubrovnik and boarded the bus for our 9 hour journey. It was a long trip, but thankfully there was stunning views of the coast the entire way. Since Zadar is fairly far north and Dubrovnik is far south, after this bus ride I was happy – I felt like I adequately saw the country’s coastline, top to bottom. Plus, the free wifi on buses in Croatia makes any long ride more bearable. 

When we finally reached the fortified city of Dubrovnik, we took a city bus to the entrance of Old Town, Pile Gate. From there we began to follow the directions to our hostel, when a young man came up to us saying “Ladies!” As per usual when this happens, Alie and I ignored him and continued to try to find our way, turning down a back alley. Much to our surprise the man had followed us, still yelling “Ladies, Ladies!” At the moment where I was just about to start to run or try to find help, he said “You must be Rebecca?” It was the hostel owner! He then explained that we were the last guests to arrive so he had been waiting for us at the bus stop. Feeling a little embarrassed that I had assumed he was asking us for money, I sheepishly followed him to our upgraded room – a private apartment all to ourselves*! Since we were there in low-season, we got a beautiful room with a terrace overlooking Fort Lovrijenac and we were 100 meters away from where they film Game of Thrones. Not a bad deal, right? After a long day of travel, we went to bed early, hoping for a full day of sight-seeing the next day. 

However, the weather did not agree with us. We woke up the next morning to the sound of rain hitting the window pane. Nevertheless, we were determined to not let it get us down. So off we went, into the old town, with umbrella and rain jacket in tow. We had to stop and get breakfast first – a delicious apple strudel from a nearby bakery. This was when we saw the crowds and crowds of student tour groups… immediately warning us of what was to come. We pushed our way through the gates into Old Town, and headed our way up to the walls. The biggest thing to do in Dubrovnik is to walk the walls that surround the old part of the city. These fortifications make for fantastic views of the city and sea. Our walk on the walls was a little stressful, with tour groups constantly pushing past us, the wind catching my umbrella a few times, and cold water spritzing on us the entire way. Even with all of these downfalls, to be able to walk on the walls was the experience of a lifetime. When we got to the highest point of the walls, I turned around to take a picture of the city and an instant downpour occurred, with strong winds soaking everyone to the bone. Alie and I decided this was our cue to leave and we made our way to the exit. As you can imagine, everyone else had the same idea that we did, leading to a three hundred person pileup on the walls. After a half an hour of waiting, we made it down from the walls and after another half an hour of waiting, we made it through the gates out of Old Town and back to our apartment. When we finally arrived in our room, saying we were soaked head to toe would be an understatement. We changed clothes, hung up the wet ones, and took a much needed nap, after a morning that had seemed to go so horribly wrong. 

The last clear picture of Old Town, before the heavens opened on us.

We woke up in the late afternoon and noticed the rain had stopped! With new warm clothes on, we headed outside to explore more of Old Town. We were greeted with not only sunshine but no tour groups to be seen! The city was just as quaint and beautiful as I always imagined it to be. We spent the next bit of time doing some shopping down the main street of Old Town, Stradun Street. With the craziness of earlier, we realized that we forgot to eat lunch! So an obligatory stop for ice cream was needed.

Stradun

Ice cream for lunch?? I think so!

We had planned to take a walking tour of the city that evening, but somehow we got distracted and I looked at my watch 6:30, realizing we missed it. We decided to just wander some of the back streets ourselves, and see some of the sights pointed out on the map. A must was to go see Onoforio’s fountain. It is said that if you touch the heads of the fountain, you will have good luck! Of course, we had to do this. After, we just wandered the back streets, with the sounds of the music festival adding a soundtrack to our tour. The narrow back alleys of this petite town are what make it so charming, it was nice to be able just to wander and absorb what you think about its beauty.

Being a super tourist

For dinner that night, we took advice from our hostel owner and went to Taj Mahal, a Bosnian restaurant. We were really wanting to try some local cuisine and this place sure didn’t disappoint! We got the cevapi, which were a type of sausage in a pita roll. We accompanied it with a nice merlot and for dessert, I tried the tulumba, fried pastry doused in orange syrup with a candied orange peel on the side. Croatia is known for their orange trees – just walk through any city and you can smell the wonderful orange blossoms.

Cevapi! YUM.

Tulumba

After dinner, we headed back to Stradun street and had a nice evening stroll. The music festival was in full swing again, after a little hiatus in the afternoon, so we stopped and listened to a group for a bit. As we walked back to the hostel, with the yellow hued street lamps shining on the still damp cream street tiles, while Hallelujah was being played in the background, I couldn’t have felt more at peace with a place.

         

The next morning, we woke up early and headed off to be one of the first ones on the Dubrovnik cable car. Again, both of us are quite scared of heights, so you might imagine the squeals of anxiety as we watched the small car attached to a very thin wire go higher and higher into the sky. Once our knees stopped shaking, we stepped on the observation deck. In that moment, we realized that conquering our fear was worth it – the top of the hill provided stunning views of the “jewel of the Adriatic”.

After descending, we grabbed our bags and headed off to the bus station, where we took a four hour bus to Split. I found myself wishing that we had more time in such a wonderful city, but promised myself that I will be back. As we drove away from Dubrovnik, the skies began to clear, offering beautiful warm sunny weather when we arrived in Split. I didn’t know much about Split before I arrived there, and I am ashamed to say that I still don’t know very much about it. We arrived late afternoon, dropped our bags at the hostel (where we were again upgraded to a private apartment – thank you low season!) and had a stroll by the harbour. From so much traveling, all we really wanted to do was sit by the water and soak up some sun, so that’s exactly what we did. The next morning we took a bus to Zadar, a  plane to Marseille and a bus to Nice – leaving Croatia in our distant memory. Although, we always knew that Croatia had made an impact us, as we kept finding the little Croatian kuna pieces everywhere (even though we thought we had successfully spent all of them). I find this country to be extremely underrated, and it has easily become one of my favorite places I’ve been. Until next time, Croatia!

*Not exactly all to ourselves – we shared the flat with Ivena, a kind middle aged woman who kept insisting on calling us “dahling”.

Les Vacances begin... again!

It is Thursday night and my excitement level is at an all time max! My parents, Dan and Brenna will be here in ONE DAY!! I just have two hours of private lessons tomorrow, a bus ride, and a train ride to Charles de Gaulle that separates me from my family, it cannot come soon enough. 

They are coming to visit me because (as the title of this post shows) I am vacation for the next two weeks! However, as events this week transpired, this whole week of "teaching" ended up being much like a vacation. This began on Tuesday morning when I walked into school for my normal 9 am class. I knew that Premier and Terminale students* had most or all of their classes cancelled this week, as they are taking the BAC blanc, a mock exam for the really serious standardized tests they take at the end of June. Knowing this, I planned accordingly, knowing that I would not have to make lessons for those classes nor show up. So when I walked in to see lists posted everywhere and utter chaos, you can imagine my confusion.

As it turns out, they take this mock exam within the school and need a whole floor of classrooms to have an adequate testing environment. So all classrooms for all teachers and classes had been changed. For the entire week. So I looked up the new classroom for my first class and waited with the students for the teacher to arrive. When the teacher came in, looking late and frazzled, he was surprised to see me and said "I just talked to the front office and they said your classes are cancelled for this week!" All I could muster in response, "what?!"

After a lengthy talk at la Vie Scolaire**, with many explanations and diagrams, they told me that I don't have any classrooms this week, there is just no room for me with the BAC blanc going on. Seeing each one of my classes on my timetable with a big red X across them, emblazoned with the words cours annulés*** made me quite angry - first, because I was excited to teach my lessons and second, because this was the first time this was communicated with me. Typical France.... At the end of our discussion, the secretary looked up at me and said "Désolé mademoiselle, mais maintenant tu as une semaine supplimentaire des vacances!"****

I preferred to not see it that way. Yes, I could have taken that response and not showed up for my classes all week, as when my teachers checked in, the secretaries would explain that I was not there because they were canceled. But I did not want to just sit and do nothing all week, not when I could have the opportunity to work with students in some capacity. After discussing the issue with each of my teachers, I still went to each of my scheduled classes and helped during the teacher's lesson in some capacity. Although I was not an active leader of the classroom, like the role I normally assume, it still felt great to be in the classroom this week and to see my students before vacation. At the beginning of this experience, I have to admit: the job of being an assistant was one of the things I liked the least. But now, as the teachers and I have learned how to communicate with each other, and the students and I have developed a rapport, it is an absolute joy teaching English here in France - it is now my favorite thing about being here.

With the sun shining brightly today and on Monday, I might have had a chance to catch some rays. It is still weird to think that I can do that in the middle of February... Hoping this great weather continues for next week, while my family and I explore Provence together (me acting as tour guide and translator)! After a week in the South, we will go to the North for five days with my parents and I exploring Paris and we might even take an excursion out to Normandy to explore the D-Day beaches. Good weather or bad, I know that this is going to be a vacation we will always remember - j'attends avec impatience!*****

Some typical February Provence sunshine (the temperature got up to 65 today, but who's counting!)

*Equitable to Juniors and Seniors in High School back home.
**Basically your typical school office, with all the secretaries and such.
***Translation: canceled class
****Translation: Sorry Miss, but now you have an extra week of vacation!
*****Translation: I can't wait!

Les nuances

With the sun shining on my face this beautiful Friday morning in Apt, I can honestly say that I am feeling so happy to be here today. When I return home, I think the first thing that I will miss about this place is the abundant sunshine that permeates every day*, making even the chilled breezy weather seem to be a Michigan spring. This morning, I opened the double windows in the living room and laid for an hour underneath the rays, soaking up every bit of sun. I have a little bit of color now… crazy to think that this is a typical January morning here.

Mmm... soleil

The past week has been uneventful to say in the least. Monday, while I was at my Business English classes, they mentioned the documents I have been translating for them. I honestly haven’t had much time to work on them – resulting that it would become a project for this weekend, which seemed do-able as there are only 3 documents to do. When I explained this, my boss gave me a funny look and said “send them over to me when you are done, there is much more we want to send you!” I am grateful for the opportunity not only to teach for this company but to also do some translating for them, but I hope that I have not gotten myself in over my head. Either way I’m taking it all in stride, as the days are rallongé** now. As my boss tried to explain to me the meaning of this new word and how it is different from its near partner allongé, we had a discussion about les nuances. Nuances in language, but also in life - this includes understanding the meaning of a word or action but also why it is necessary to use it in that context. Much of my time here in France is spent learning to understand the nuances of everyday life, and I constantly am trying to educate myself further in this.

Best thing about the days getting longer: I get to walk back home as the sun is setting. Just beautiful.

Tuesday at the end of one of my lessons, when one of my students got my contact information to set up  private lessons, all the others asked “what’s going on Rebecca?” I explained that she wanted to take private lessons and they responded “we can do that?!” After explaining a bit further, they took down my e-mail as well, excited for the opportunity to see me and speak English more. It is moments like this that make me feel like I am making a difference here, and make me happy to teach every day. 

Favorite boulangerie with the best baguette in town

Wednesday evening greeted us with a surprise visit. This entire week, a business has been coming into the apartments, dorms, and classrooms to do measurements as they are planning on doing some remodeling*** Getting a notification for this last week, I went to the secretary and set up a rendez-vous for them to come in the apartment when I would be here, so they could get in to all the rooms. That rendez-vous was supposed to be on Monday: it came and went with no visitors. I thought this was weird, but again, nothing really surprises me about this place. So when 6pm Wednesday rolled around and I heard 3 people speaking French in the hallway of our apartment, I opened up my bedroom door to find one of the maintenance men and two women with blueprints and measuring tape looking quite shocked to see me. They explained that they would be doing the measurements now. Normally, if I were living in the States, I would have seen this as a huge inconvenience: I had made an appointment and they had not kept it, and then came into my apartment unannounced at a time that I wasn’t expecting them. But the funny thing about living here is that it changes you a bit: I said it was fine and asked if there was anything I could do to help. Maybe this flexibility will continue when I return home?****

Thursday was another busy day of classes. Sometimes at the end of this day, I feel a bit discouraged, as the last class I have is always my worst behaved and I leave my workweek feeling less than satisfied. This week was the opposite. We were working on the second week of a two week project about football/soccer (they learn both British and American English). Their task this week was to make a skit about soccer and perform it. I had been worried about letting this class work in small groups, as their talking normally is hard enough to control, but they were great! They were concentrated on making their scripts as good as they could make them, asking me for grammar or vocabulary help, and even practiced before performing as I had coached them to do so. Leaving school for the weekend yesterday, I felt fulfilled for the first time after that Thursday class and am hoping it will continue. 

The rest of the today will be nice and relaxing: a private lesson with a student, shopping, reading and a movie – The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. Yes, in our little cinema in Apt, Walter Mitty is playing. For now, I am off to enjoy that sunshine….

*Correction: nearly every day. But still, this is the sunniest place I’ve ever visited or lived!

**Rallongé and allongé basically mean the same thing: lengthened – though from what I’ve read online rallongé is more to mean extended in a general sense, rather than allongé means the enlongating of object. So when we were talking about the days being rallongé, this means the days are getting longer.

***This couldn’t come soon enough. Seriously, really old buildings here folks!

****Unlikely. Very unlikely.

Vale, España (aka: Spain, don’t kick me when I’m down!)

I am excited to be writing this post from the comfort of my own room in Apt. Although I love to travel and explore new places, there is something about home that is inherently relaxing and after the weekend I have had, I cannot express how grateful I am to have a steady place to come back to here in Europe.

My journey began early Friday morning, with catching the 6am bus to the Avignon TGV station. From there, I took a 3 hour TGV to Paris. Although it was cold in Provence, on the way to Paris, we passed through the northern departements of France which were covered in snow, with more big chunks being blown around as we passed. Seeing the Southerners on this train was funny, as they were so excited to see this change of season and were all continually taking pictures on their smartphones the entire ride. 

This TGV arrived 30 minutes late into Gare de Lyon, making my 1.5 hour connection to Gare Montparnasse even shorter. I hastily bought a ticket to the metro, and having already mapped out my plan to get there, arrived in the station with 30 minutes to spare. The next TGV was a 6 hour journey that was supposed to end in Irun, a small town just across the border into Spain. However, when we reached the stop before Irun, an announcement was made: we would be stopped there for an undeterminable amount of time due to a blockage on the line. In my train car, you heard just about every language represented in their disgust at this news: “Putain!” “Shiza!” “Joder!” “Shit!”

As I only had a 30 minute connection with the original time this train was getting in, I knew there was little hope for me to arrive in Irun, let alone Burgos, that night. I talked with some young German students who were next to me in the same predicament – we were all trying to find a way to make that train. After trying to find the conductor to ask about this several times, I ran into someone saying that they were setting up something special for the people who were on my train going to Portugal. Then, in an instant, the conductor appeared and said “Tu vas à Portugal?” As I was definitely not going there, I was confused but just showed him my ticket. He motioned me and a group of us to follow him. At this point, I had no idea what was going on or where I was going, but blindly following seemed better than staying on the train. 

As we were all standing there, conversing about our options in a mix of French, English and Spanish, I slowly realized that we all had some type of understanding between us. There is something to be said about the universal language of the panicked and stranded travelers. Soon after, a group of taxis pulled up – the train station had called taxis to take us across the border to Irun. Squished in a car with 3 other Portuguese men, hoping and praying that I would make this train, I watched as there was one minute until the train left and we weren’t even at the station yet. One of the men in the car asked why I was so worried, and when I explained to him that I don’t speak Spanish, he said “pourquoi tu es en Espagne?!”* After explaining a little bit about why I am in Europe and that I was visiting a friend studying in Spain, he told me not to worry, because they don’t even speak Spanish there, they speak Basque. It was interesting to hear about the different dialects that exist in Spain and the different opinions and controversy about their usage. 

When we arrived at the station at the minute the train was supposed to leave, I was grateful that the taxi driver just told us to run from the car – the taxi was on the train station. Good thing, because that was a 90 euro ride! We made it just in time… except the train waited on the platform for another half hour to ensure the passengers from the other taxis would arrive as well. As we all reunited on the train, we shared our relief with one another and wished each other continued safe travels with fewer complications. Again, the sense of camaraderie was quite comforting, as I was making this journey on my own. 

I finally arrived in Burgos at 10:15pm, only a few minutes after I was supposed to arrive originally. I was greeted by Katie and Andrea at the station and they brought me back into town to my hostel. The owner of the hostel had gratefully stayed an hour and a half past check out time for me, and since I was one of the only guests, I got a two bed room with a private bathroom instead of the single room I paid for. Score! Even after my long day of travel, I wanted to see a bit of the city and grab some food. So they showed me some of the city center that night: Burgos cathedral all lit up, the Arc Santa Maria, etc. And we went to Moritos, which became increasingly clear was the best restaurant in town. As we waited for a table, we enjoyed my first Spanish sangria, and I must say they are AMAZING!** Then we had huge chicken sandwiches, which might not sound very Spanish, but for someone that has not had a lot of meat since I have been to Europe, the sandwich was absolutely delicious and just what I needed. I slept very well on my double bed to myself and a stomach full of goodness. 

Besties with Sangria!

Saturday, we woke up and were determined to see the sights. The weather, although, didn’t agree with us. It was pretty cold and continued to spit rain at us so although I got to see the cathedral during the day, we did not get to walk to the university where Katie studies and decided to duck into stores and do some shopping. Soon after, we went for an early lunch of vino y tapas at Pecadito’s, another popular restaurant in town. This was a very traditional Spanish meal where I tried many different small plates of Spanish dishes, including tortilla, croquetas, and the Burgos specialty morcilla. And of course, had to wash it down with a glass of rosé wine. 

The second most beautiful cathedral I've ever seen. (if you're wondering, Notre Dame is always boss)

Tapas!

After lunch, we went for another glass of sangria at Morito’s. I don’t know what it is but that blend of red wine, apples, oranges and lemons was just too delicious to resist.

Seriously, SO GOOD!

After, it was still too cold and rainy to walk around very much, so we went back to Katie’s host family’s house and watched Pitch Perfect in her room. I know this sounds like an odd thing to do in Spain, but as I had been missing this movie, and spending time with a best friend, it was so nice to just relax in a warm place that afternoon while quoting and singing one of our favorite movies together. Plus, I got to meet her host mom and brother, both of whom are very nice and were very welcoming to me. 

Later on, we got ready for a night out on the town. As Katie had warned me the week before, I knew that it was going to be a long night out, as Spaniards stay out until 7am on a Saturday night/Sunday morning. And as I had one real night in Spain, I of course had to be prepared to live as the Spanish do! The night started with kebabs (which I had never had before and were tasty!), a sangria at Moritos and then calimuchos at Peregrino. Calimuchos is a drink that I have heard about from many of my friends that have studied in Spain: it is half red wine, half Coke. I thought this would be disgusting but surprisingly found it quite tasty! We spent the rest of the night meeting up with Katie’s other friends from the program and dancing the night away. Although the night ended on a sour note***, I was more than happy that Katie’s host brother said I could come back and stay at their house instead of going back to my hostel. I was thankful to be able to spend the night with my friend after such a weird end to my day, and I was happily asleep by 8am (like true Spaniards do).

Waking at noon, we set off in search of a store to buy me a new coat. We were sad to discover that Spain is like France: everything was closed. So instead, I borrowed one of Katie’s jackets and we set off to take pictures by the cathedral. After, we headed to Yaya’s house to bake a classic American apple crumble pie, as her host mom wanted to know how to make them. Though when we started making it, she said that she already knew how to make that kind of pie. Oh well, it was wonderful to meet another Spanish woman, and she spoke English very well! She said she felt so awful about my jacket that she would find me an old one that she wasn’t wearing anymore for me to have. I thought that this was just a nice sentiment but when she came through the door with a lined bomber jacket, I was nearly in tears. She mis-understood my reaction and said “Oh if you don’t like it, that is fine, you can buy another one when you get to France!” I of course thanked her profusely, for giving me something to wear in the cold winter conditions, and am still extremely grateful for this act of kindness. There are some great people in Spain!

Apple crumble deliciousness!

Some lovely ladies!

Then we went on a chilly evening walk and Katie, Andrea and Yaya showed me the university where they study at, Universidad de Burgos. After a bone chilling stroll, we ducked in to Morito’s one last time so I could try some patatas bravas, which were French fries with a type of red hot sauce and aioli topping. Yum! And finally, something every tourist must do in Burgos, we climbed to the top of the Castillo (which there is barely anything left of) and looked out over the city. It was a beautiful moment of tranquility after such a crazy weekend and we all sat there admiring the view.

Burgos at night

After, we said our goodbyes and Katie and I headed back to the hostel for quick nap. As all the 8am bus tickets to Madrid airport were sold out, it meant that I had to wake up at 3am to catch the 4am bus to the airport. After saying goodbye to Katie at the bus station, I settled in and slept until we reached the airport. I checked in and looked at the clock: it was 7am. My flight didn’t leave until 2:40pm. I spent the 7 hours of free time watching Project Free TV on my phone and reading. Finally, the plane boarded, took off and landed on time. I even slept on the plane!****

Once arriving in Marseille and transferring to the train station, I bought tickets to a train that said it was delayed 30 minutes. This was fine, as my bus back to Apt wouldn’t leave for another 1.5 hours after I arrived in Avignon. However, while sitting on the train, they came on the loud speaker and said that the train would be delayed an additional hour. Sure I was able to find a train that could get me there sooner, I waited another 30 minutes in line for them to tell me the next train was scheduled to get in later. As I walked back to my original train, they came over the loud speaker and said the train would now be delayed 3 hours. That wouldn’t do, so I went back to the line again to get the next available train. Which got into Avignon at 8:05. When did the last bus to Apt leave, you may ask? At 8:00pm.

So, as I was stuck in Avignon for the night, I texted my friend and fellow assistant Liz and she and her roommates Chase and Maria let me stay at their place. I cannot express how thankful I was that I had somewhere to stay for the night, and also got to catch up with some great people. I will be going back to their place this weekend to see a bit of Avignon, shop and make some pumpkin pie! But in any case, I checked the bus schedule when I was there and soon realized that there was no way I was going to be able to make my first class the next day. I emailed my teacher and coordinator and offered to do an extra hour at a different time, and as this situation has yet to be resolved, I still don’t know what is going to happen with it.

Tuesday morning, I took the bus back into Apt and walking back through town gave me this indescribably uplifting feeling. I never thought Apt would make me feel that way, as so many people call it a “dead city”. After such a long, eventful, complicated, and fun weekend, I could not be happier to be back in my French home, no matter how small and run-down it may be.

*Translation: Why are you in Spain?!

**So amazing that we returned two more times on Saturday for two more glasses. That’s right: 3 times within a 24 hour period. It’s just that good, guys!

***What is this sour note? WELL, my watch AND my winter jacket got stolen. To be fair, the watch might have just fallen off, but due to the below freezing temperatures outside, I was pretty upset about the jacket. And, oh yeah, a Spanish mob/mafia boss was trying to give me money for my coat. Only in Spain….

****For people who are aware of my flight anxiety, you know that this is a great triumph!