NOEL ARRIVE!

Exam period generally means rarely leaving the house, finding anything possible at all to do in order to avoid the one thing you should be doing and being on the brink of going crazy at any moment, just because. Oh, and getting through enough cups of tea to keep Tetleys going strong for another year. So what better way to take a revision break and escape the impending onset of cabin fever than to have a wander round the Christmas market at Comédie and get truly into the Christmas spirit (yes, I'm aware it's only just turned December, but hey).  

France has decided to go its own way on this and has its very own version of a German market – only instead of the huge pints of beer and cheap sausages, it’s the much more civilised options of vin chaud and tartiflette (imagine some kind of concoction of creamy cheesy potatoes with bacon... YUM), rounded off with a crepe (with the omnipresent nutella). 

Because every Christmas market needs an igloo. 

Christmas is on its way! Got to get these exams out the way first, just wish that I cared slightly more about them than I actually do...

More photos!

Ok, so it's exam time and I'm naturally finding all possible forms of procrastination that there are; taking a few photos of Montyp seemed like a good enough option to me. Probably not what I should be doing given that I have 9 exams over the next 2 weeks (haven't had this many since GCSE...), but hey. We all need to take a break sometimes, right?

"Can we go see that big white church over the river?" Un weekend à Paris.

I can hardly live in France for a year and not visit Paris at least once. With the combined excuses of a national day off, an opportunity to see the Eiffel tower (for the millionth time) and the chance to spend the weekend having a good time with friends…well, I could hardly turn that down!

Paris didn’t disappoint. Keeping up with the tradition of us Leeds Frenchies going to Paris in November (for some of us, it was the third year running), the weekend consisted off exactly what I thought it would given the people I was going with…eating, drinking, walking and generally enjoying la vie Parisienne.

Naturally I had to go and pay a visit to the Eiffel Tower…

The next day was Remembrance Day – a very memorable experience. We headed up to the Arc de Triomphe to watch the service. I would love to say that I saw a great deal of what was going on, but even with huge screens attached to the Arc, I didn’t manage to see a thing – the perils of being vertically challenged. Massive thanks to Jack for giving me a running commentary of what was going on…

So after Sarkozy made his quite frankly brilliant memorial speech, the crowd started to disperse and people began to leave. All of a sudden, everyone lurched towards the barriers and I could make out the word “SARKOZY!” being called. Yup, you guessed, old Sarko was right there, casually walking past, shaking people’s hands and most likely trying to win potential votes for next year. Being the classic tourists that we are, we threw ourselves into the crowd to get our own snap of le president. Et voila…

And before you ask, yes he is really that short in real life. And he has a really big nose.

Next we headed to the “big white church over the river” (think you mean the Sacre Coeur, Jack) and had a wander round the Moulin Rouge…typical tourists much? We even did the classical annoying touristy thing, where you go into the Louvre, bypass all the great works of art, head straight to Mona Lisa, look at it for a few minutes, feel disappointed and leave. We did try appreciating other paintings…but there’s only so far you can pretend. . That evening, after a delicious meal cooked by the boys, we headed out to a club to see what the Parisian nightlife had to offer!

Saturday was a (hangover) picnic under the Eiffel Tower – perfect. The rest of the day was spent casually wandering round once again and watching Paris slowly light up as it dropped dark. 

Overall, a fantastic weekend. A l’année prochaine!

TWO LOOSE IN TOULOUSE!

Another weekend trip down (and a chunk of Erasmus money gone) – this time, Toulouse!

So after a week of the Montpellier thunderstorms, we escaped to a town where the weather was that little bit better. Lies and I kicked off our trip with a nice and early 7.40am train (it was cheap, ok) and off we headed. Slight panic on the train journey, when we saw what we thought was the sea on either side of us and wondered just what on earth the train was doing and where we were actually going… But we arrived in our intended destination, always good.

So map clutched in hand, we did the proper tourist thing and had a wander round checking out all the major sites:

Le Capitole (Toulouse's version of Comedie...)

Cathedrale St-Etienne

Our excitement at finding a huge Monoprix...

So in the afternoon we decided to do a bit of shopping, and I can safely say that I took advantage of the shops in Toulouse – Montpellier, I love you, but you don’t have a great selection of shops. Then it was naptime, ready for the night ahead!

After an exceptionally good meal (it’s amazing how delicious spag bol tastes when you haven’t eaten it in a while), we kicked off our night with a bottle of wine, some playing cards and of course, CRISPS…once we’d rescued them from the shower where Lies cleverly decided to put them down.

The next day, we had another stroll round, had some *hangover* pizza and found ourselves sitting in a bandstand (no Lies, not a gazebo), watching random people dancing to some strange swing-style music. Very, very surreal to say the least. And clearly captivating enough to keep us there for over 2 hours! Naturally, not knowing these people, we made up names and lives for them…an afternoon of free, bizarre and hilarious entertainment.

And that was the two of us loose in Toulouse!

So ten weeks ago, I was waking up to my first mornings in Montpellier, ready to face the challenging day ahead of having to speak proper French to proper French people and do all the serious stuff that needs to be done when you’re setting up a life somewhere. I quickly realised this wasn’t a holiday, and that actually bank accounts needed to be set up and the phone contracts needed to be taken out. Little did I know back then that it wasn’t going to be as easy as I had hoped. But I managed it, and I can safely say that after 10 weeks I’m as prepared as I’ll ever be for whatever the French bureaucratic system decides to throw my way. I now know that if you need to see the bank for whatever reason, you will have to go in, say what it is you want to discuss, be told to come back in another time, to then make an appointment….for yet another day. Sounds crazy? Pretty normal for round here. If you want to get a simple thing such as a tram pass, you will need 3 different types of document and probably a blood sample.

My illusion that the south of France is always bathed in glorious sunshine has been shattered completely this week; the summer clothes and the flip flops have been firmly stored away in the back of the wardrobe, don’t think they’ll be resurfacing anytime soon, sadly. Montpellier has been hit by some sort of monsoon season that has made it sometimes impossible to leave the house. I really wish I was kidding. I know that if I left the house I’d just get blown away by the wind and I really don’t fancy doing a Mary Poppins. It’s the kind of weather where you just want to get into bed and eat chocolate, drink tea and watch films all day. Shame I can’t do that, as it turns out I actually have a fair bit of uni work to be cracking on with. The closer it gets to the ends of term (only 6 weeks to go), the closer we get to actually having to do some work. I'd almost forgotten that that's what we're here to do...

Other small updates on my life…the battle between me and the supermarkets for fresh milk rages on – there are times when I’ve lost, meaning black coffee and dry cereal for me, yum. It’s amazing how such a little thing can become so important! So far this experience is turning me more French by the day. I now eat my steak much rarer than I'd ever have even touched before (in my opinion, it's raw, but damn it tastes good), I drink COFFEE and haven't had made a cup of tea in all my time here (sorry Steph), I've taken to olives (so sophisticated) and my staple diet consists of wine, bread and cheese (très française). I’ve also learnt another major lesson – the green man at the road crossing, which I’d always assumed was an international symbol for “you’re ok to cross now”, apparently does now have the same meaning in France. Cars can still go, so you take your life into your own hands every time.

One last thing. As much as I love France the one thing I have to admit that I’m missing more than I had realised…the English pubs. There just isn’t anything quite like them! 

Avignon

Here's a few photos taken of Avignon - another place crossed off the list!

View from Pont du Gard

Palais des Papes

Pont d'Avignon (the one with the song...)

View from Pont d'Avignon

Allez les bleus!

Today was the first and the last time in my life that I’ll ever get up so early on a Sunday to watch a match of a sport that doesn’t really interest me and where England aren’t playing. But when you’re in France, and France are playing in the Rugby World Cup final, you really don’t have much option but to go and watch it; it’d be crazy not to, right? So there I was, 10 o’ clock in the morning, cheering away and shouting at the screen like any other mad-crazed rugby fan. It really is impossible to not start chanting “Allez les bleus” along with everyone else when you’re completely surrounded by French people who are acting like this match is a life or death situation. The guy next to me kept hopping up and down and clapping, so he was clearly having a whale of a time. From the start, the crowd were booing and jeering at the All Blacks, so shouting “Allez Nouvelle Zélande” would probably have got me a punch in the face. Supporting France was the only feasible option.

Without even realising I was doing it, I got into the match more than I thought I would and was cheering/booing along with everyone else, in support of France. I have to admit, 5 minutes before the end I realised that I actually wanted New Zealand to win, and can safely say I wasn’t too disappointed with the result…

Watching the final was an experience in itself, it has to be said. First off, it took ages to find a place to sit, not just because there were so many people wanting to watch it, but also because surprisingly few bars were actually showing it. Now, if this had been England, every single pub would have some form of screen, people would take the day off work, and essentially the world would stop functioning for the entirety of the match. People here were casually drinking a beer while the match was on, but if this was England, everyone would be pissed before kick-off, no matter what the time of day. The biggest surprise of all (and something that, having only ever watched sport matches in England, I’ve never witnessed before) was that at the end of the match, the French people, despite having lost, started clapping the New Zealanders for their efforts. You wouldn’t get that at home…

Overall, it was worth getting up early for, but I won’t be doing it again in a hurry!