Its been far too long since I updated this blog and my dad has been expressing concern for my 'first epistolary novel' so I really should write a new entry. Life in France is all going well, and I have to say that the excuse for why I've been so lax in keeping up with my e-communication is one of the lamest I've ever heard myself argue. Its just been too sunny. Too sunny to be inside, and when I'm outside its too sunny to use a laptop. Sad, I know. The summer, it seems, has come to Bordeaux just as quickly as the winter did, and just as early as the winter was late. My landlady explained to me with heartfelt apologies that here in Bordeaux 'we don't really have spring,' and it would seem Bordeaux has chosen instead to give up with all the shivering around the second week of March and whip out the flip flops instead. Or so I assumed, when I first looked out of my window to see the sunshine beating down, birds singing and not a cloud in the sky. 'Oh, fab,' I thought. 'Time to crack out the shorts.' Apparently the citizens of Bordeaux do not feel the same way. A fortnight ago my fellow assistants and I made our way to the Bassin d'Arcachon, a bay on the ocean about 40 minutes away which the Bordelaise call the 'back garden of Bordeaux - complete with swimming pool' since whenever there's a sunny weekend almost the entire town packs up and relocates to the beach. Having packed up our beach towels, baguettes and cheese (essential travel items) and checked the weather forecast (25 degrees at least) imagine my surprise when I skipped merrily onto the tram to discover that the women of Bordeaux had chosen to dress themselves in leather jackets, fur boots and wool scarves. I'm pretty sure most of them will have had to be hospitalised by the end of the day. Just another thing to add to the list. When Laurence Richard, my university French teacher came to Bordeaux to interview me for her research project on language acquisition, one of her questions was if 'I had ever been surprised by anything in France?'. I'm pretty sure when her team listen back to my tape they will hear me audibly laugh out loud because really a simpler question would have been: 'In the 6 months that you've been here have you ever left your house and not been surprised?'
Since its become clear that there are not many better ways to spend a day than hanging out on the beach with the vagues and some fromage - the waves and the cheese to you - March's activities have been fairly ocean themed, and have included a trip to a caravan site on the Bassin which was pretty empty since it was only March - its probably for the best that our group of 10 twenty-somethings didn't have many neighbours anyway - and a trip even further afield to La Rochelle. Last weekend we got up at the crack of dawn to get the train there and then went on to the Isle de Ré, a 30km long island off the Atlantic coast which is apparently the chosen holiday destination of many a French celebrity and the home of many an oyster - fortunate for the rich and famous and less fortunate for the oysters. We chose a town to visit pretty much at random, taking the bus from La Rochelle to the island and then waiting until we couldn't take the winding roads any more and getting off. We ended up at La Flotte, a picturesque village with a beach through the middle of it where we set up camp for the day. As well as some traditional french sunbathing, we also managed to delay hypothermia just long enough to swim in the ocean, and then once the tide had gone out, we realised to our amazement that the wet sand was actually full of oysters. Naturally we then set about looking for them. When you find them they are closed up and look like a rock or a normal shell, but then if you hold them underwater for a while they open their shells and you can see the oyster inside! My inner Biology A level student, the one who got over excited looking for gammarus and limpets in Arran, was out in full force. There were also lots of sea snails, so we held races (you may or may not be pleased to know that between Daniel and Rupert, Daniel won) and generally behaved like 9 year old boys all day. We had the compulsory moules-frites for lunch, which I've decided are actually really nice if you don't make the mistake of taking a close look at what it is you're putting in your mouth. La Rochelle itself is a beautiful town too and it was a shame we only had a day to look around.. its definitely been added to an ever growing list of places I need to visit.
The first of April is known as 'poisson d'Avril' in France, and their April Fools Day antics tend to all be fish themed. This isn't as bad as it sounds.. mostly they just eat chocolates in the shape of fish and draw and colour paper fish which they then stick on people's backs. The trick is to try to stick them on without the person noticing, so that they then walk around with a fish stuck to them. At school on Monday all the children thought it would be really funny to try this on their teachers, myself included, and so I tried to ignore the unsubtle giggling fits and thumps to my back as fish got cellotaped onto me and pretend I hadn't noticed anything. Kids must be getting worse at subtlety because when I was eight I'm pretty certain I was a master of subterfuge. My mum and dad are clever but they never suspected anything, so I'm sure I was much better at it than these French amateurs. Still, the teachers and I played along, and compared fish at lunch time. Some of them were actually really well decorated! Talking of school, the last few weeks (that sounds so sad!) have been really fun. I don't think the teachers have actually told the children how soon I'm leaving, so saying my goodbyes next week is going to be really sad. I only just realised that I'm allowed to take the children into the hall to do activities with them, so we've had some great dramatic readings of 'We're Going On A Bear Hunt' involving human grass, forests, snowstorms, and even a very convincing bear, and also some renditions of the Hokey Kokey which have been so exciting we've had to stop and all have 'sitting down time' since I was sure if we continued shaking it all about we were going to have to call the 'quinze', France's much overworked emergency services number.
Having had a good 4 trips to the beach already this year, I can hardly be too sad that the weather has finally returned to normal and everyone has had to retire indoors again. Alors, its back to the dreaded Year Abroad Research Project and figuring out a plan for the summer. I know people warned us how quickly this year would go by, but it really has felt like the blink of an eye. Now I just need to make sure that the last month (or two or three, depending on how long I hang out here after my contract ends) is even better than the past 6 have been!
No comments:
Post a Comment