Leaving France and Another Musical Musing

A lot has happened since I last wrote to you. It seems like a long time ago, but it was barely more than three weeks ago!

I went home for a few days at the end of July as I had planned a month or so before, but what I hadn't planned until about two weeks ago was leaving France for good-- or at least for the foreseeable future.  As I said in a previous post, I started to feel more and more that the year abroad was coming to an end and so I booked my one-way ticket home. This immediately took me back to almost a year before, on August 17th to be precise, when I had booked my one-way ticket to Lille. I saw myself at my computer, barely able to comprehend what I was about to do; not knowing what to expect; not knowing where I would live; not knowing who I would meet; thinking only of how daunting the whole thing was and, in fact, not yet knowing how much I would enjoy myself. I won't pretend that nothing ever went wrong on my year abroad, or that every day or experience was perfect, because that would be foolish and untrue, but the overall experience was so enriching and life changing that I can only look back over this year with a sense of fulfilment and nostalgia. Admittedly, being of a nostalgic disposition is not always a good thing, since it's not good to live in the past and see it as this ideal time when everything was perfect, because of course, there is always something that went wrong in the past, and there is almost always something to be grateful for or happy about in the present and/or near future. What these moments of nostalgia do give, though, is a reminder that even when things seem scary or tough, they can work out for the best in ways we had never imagined.

When I went back to Lille for my last ten days, I went with my best friend, Maia, who had spent her year abroad in Germany and who I hadn't seen for a year! You can possibly imagine the excitement when we saw each other at the station...

It was ten days full of films, food and endless conversations. We kept in contact pretty much every day since we left uni last year, but even so we never shut up!

Being the nostalgic person I am, I had to take her around the places I'd loved over the year and that I wanted to go to one last time before leaving-- just the fairly mundane things in a way: cafés and bars. Of course there were the goodbye meals and drinks we went for, too, which made the end seem even more real. We also went to Bruges (or Brugge, as the Flemish call it, and as we preferred to call it, purely for the Flemish accent.) We also saw a bizarre film at the cinema called 'Au fil d'Ariane' ('Ariane's Thread') the plot of which I'm not sure we'd have been any the wiser had we not had a bottle of quite strong Belgian beer beforehand. I think the beer might have made it better, in fact...

The very last day was was quite relaxed: we went to Lille for a drink, early lunch and snacks, did a little shopping and then went back home to take care of the last bits of packing. We also went to my local bank so that I could ask about closing down the account and drawing out what money I had left in it. It was the same (devastatingly attractive) receptionist I spoke to then as I had spoken to when I first went to ask about opening the account. Being a small town that I lived in, there aren't many English people, so he remembered me fairly quickly and I think we both remembered how long it had taken to find a slot for me to have a rendez-vous with a banker to open my account when I first arrived. Having been in France barely two weeks at the time, I hadn't got all the banking vocabulary required and I was really in a hurry to open my account so that I wouldn't miss my first payment and have to wait until the end of the following month to receive it. The stress and slight difficulties in understanding all the different accounts available and explaining my situation and trying to get a meeting that didn't clash with work had provided a fairly comical experience for the two of us which I think we both remembered when I went to close the account. Ah, life.

This is only my second day at home and I don't think it's quite hit me that I have moved out for good. As I was saying to Maia only a day or so ago, it's as if there's a second Jess still in Lille. I can picture her walking towards the main square and the old stock exchange she loves so much. She's either going to read a book in one of her preferred cafés, or she's going to sit on the fountain in the centre of the square to soak up the sun and listen to music and think about all the things she has done since arriving in France and how it has changed her and will affect her final year at university-- even her outlook on life.

...which leads me onto the musical musing...

During this year, I finally got around to exploring the discography of Bombay Bicycle Club. Their latest album ('So Long, See You Tomorrow') was released earlier this year and I remember hearing the first single ('Carry Me') on the radio and being a little on the fence as to whether or not I liked it, but then 'Luna' came out, and I distinctly remember getting ready for work at around 6.30 one morning-- a Friday I believe-- and being captivated by it while I was getting some clothes out of the cupboard. It was the chorus that got me, with the harmonies between the male and female voices. There's a sort of release at the end of the chorus, with the long, high-pitched notes that perked up my early start a little. I listened to that song incessantly when I bought the album.

I decided one Sunday morning to just get everything I could find by them, and I went to my habitual Sunday morning café with my German book and listened to every album in turn as my study accompaniment. The first two songs to really grab my attention were neighbouring tracks on my favourite album by them, called 'A Different Kind of Fix':

'Take The Right One', which has a soothing sound and a simple, yet beautiful melody. It also happens to be the first song I listened to on my way back home as the train left the station.

And 'Shuffle' which is one of the most rhythmically wonderful songs I think I have ever heard. The energetic piano opening of staccato major chords should get your attention immediately. The soft and reflective vocals that are so characteristic of Bombay tracks is ever present, but with a very marked rhythm. The chorus is a poly-rhythmic masterpiece that just makes you want to dance. It's finger-clickingly, foot-tappingly, hip-swayingly good.

Moving onto something rather different: my 'before 6am alarm'. It's gentle, soothing tones will never leave me...

Gotcha. ;)

Please, at least listen to the first minute on full blast so you can get an idea of what waking up to this at 5.45am (also on full blast) was like... Regrettably, I had started sleeping through all other alarms I had used, so I had to resort to this ('International' by Chase and Status.) I did sleep through even this for about 20 minutes, once. (I think that's an achievement, don't you?)

Sticking with the electronic genre, one particular Scottish group released their debut album about two days before I went to France, but since I was so busy with preparations, I didn't actually get around to listening to it properly until my second night in France while I was unpacking my things, having just been brought to my home for the coming year. You might well be familiar with a couple of their singles: 'The Mother We Share' (which was what got me into them), and 'Gun', which grew on me after a few listens. Both of these songs have sort of accompanied me on my experience in France. I started to like them during the summer before I went, so they have become almost synonymous with the build-up to going to Lille. The one track that stands out to me on the album, though, is one of the last few tracks, which is quite dramatic and has a dark, haunting chorus that made an instant impression on me. Since it was a dark, late September evening when I first heard it, I tend to only listen to it when it's dark, just because it doesn't feel right listening to it in the sunshine, given when I heard it for the first time. The song is called 'Science/Visions' by CHVRCHES.

Another band I decided to listen to properly while I was in France actually provided me with the perfect song to listen to as I travelled back from Lille. It's very reflective and subdued and was almost made to punctuate my journey through the countryside with its quiet fields and hamlets and steady, rolling hills. It's the penultimate song of the album 'Holy Fire' by Foals, and is called 'Stepson:'

'Stepson' was the only song I planned to listen to on the way home, but the rest were down to whatever came up on shuffle, which makes the last two songs I listened to as I arrived at my final destination quite remarkable.

The penultimate song was introduced to me by a friend a couple of years ago. It's another post-rock piece and is very different to the Caspian track from the previous post. It's another very reflective piece that feels sad at first but then progresses and becomes brighter. It seemed to reflect my own journey: I was sad to leave Lille, but I remembered that there would be things to look forward to at home, too, and that I would be moving forward in my life. The song came to an end just as I was getting off the train. It's called 'Your Hand in Mine' by a band called Explosions in the Sky, from their beautiful album 'The Earth is not a Cold Dead Place:'

Finally, the last song I listened to was more aptly named than anything else. It's one of my favourite songs from Chase and Status's album 'No More Idols' and it's called 'End Credits:'

That's quite enough for one post, I think, but it won't be the last. Once I've settled back into 'normal' life, I think I'll write about things I'll miss and things I learned in France with a few tips on words not to be 'frenchified' when in France unless you want to sound absurd-- for example, saying 'preservatives' in a French accent won't convey the meaning you probably want it to, but I'll save the explanation for the next post ;)

À bientôt!

A Musical Musing over my Year Abroad (Part I)

I've had this idea for a little while now. Music is a huge part of my life and I have to be listening to something at pretty much all times during the day-- I even have a playlist to help me get to sleep. If I can't play music for whatever reason, I'm certainly playing something in my head. Last year at uni, I co-hosted a new and unsigned music show with a few other students which was great fun, and next year I'd like to have my own show and play all the songs I love. Naturally, I brought all my music to France and have bought new things this year, and since I listen to music so much, there are a few (well, quite a lot of tracks) that have become synonymous with certain places/events or weather while I've been here and so I thought I'd share them with you. Maybe you'll discover something new!

As I write this, I'm listening to Bon Iver's eponymous album which I downloaded almost a year ago now (yes, very late on the bandwagon). I'd heard of Bon Iver, but never really listened to their music. Coincidentally, the first track of theirs I heard has just started playing. Every time I hear it I think of Christmas (not because the word is mentioned in the song) and snow and mountains in a place like Norway (where I went on holiday this time last year). There's something about the gentle, hypnotic guitar riff that makes me think of falling snow and the high pitched, whispy vocals that make me think of a cold winter wind. It's also beautifully produced and I would listen to it on repeat over the course of an afternoon because it's simply captivating. It's called 'Holocene':

The first and last tracks ('Perth' and 'Beth/Rest') are also two of my favourite tracks. 'Perth' as an opening track, I find anticipatory and stirring. It has quite a simple melody which makes me think of gentle waves on the coast-- quite appropriate given the title.

'Beth/Rest' is the end track and has an intoxicating, descending keyboard melody which, combined with the distant vocals, drags you into a musical reverie. I listen to it every night before I go to sleep.

Moving on to quite a different genre-- and to one of my favourite bands: I downloaded their debut album when it came out at the end of July last year and haven't stopped listening to it since I came to France. They're a band with a unique sound, who always manage to find a beat that makes you want to move and melodies that are usually incredibly simple and, probably for that reason, very addictive. Their vocalist is brilliant and has a voice with such raw character, I'm not sure anyone else quite matches up to him. Instead of picking a song from their debut album (which I listened to on the way to France back in September), I chose a song I particularly like from their EP 'Music for Cars'. It has a really edgy beat and the vocals are quite dominant-- unlike Bon Iver's songs. I really started to like this song when I'd first come to France and I remember listening to it a lot in the metro-- it's called 'Head.Cars.Bending'

Since their album is so brilliant, I will mention a couple of songs from it, although I could really just link you the whole album, I love it all so much. One of the first songs I couldn't get enough of is called 'M.O.N.E.Y'. Again, it has a great beat-- especially at the end where it's more pronounced. Their drummer is pretty creative and I always find myself wanting to move to the beat (which is not a desire I'm usually overcome with). I also love how nonchalant the vocals are and how witty the lyrics are at times. Another song from the album, called 'Talk!' is very lyrically clever. I particularly love the line "bulimic in the way you talk" which is so concise yet so cuttingly critical of whoever it's talking about. The vocal production is great too. I love the layering of the vocals and the abrasive sound it creates: it seems to recreate the irritating effect this person's voice appears to have on-- presumably-- Matty, the singer.

'M.O.N.E.Y'

'Talk!'

Okay, I can't resist, I'm also a massive fan of 'She Way Out' which is towards the end of the album:

One of my favourite genres is post-rock, and there are a few post-rock bands I like a lot. I know I've already talked about my beloved God Is An Astronaut in a post from way back, so I'll mention a different group here. I'd learned about them from a friend a couple of years back, but never really checked them out. Then I discovered an EP called 'Hymn for the Greatest Generation' on which there is a track that is wondrous in unbelievably epic proportions. It's a masterpiece, to put it shortly. I remember when I first noticed this track. I'd downloaded the EP because I'd heard the title track and liked it so much I decided I had to have it; I didn't actually listen to the full EP for quite a while, so I discovered each of the tracks gradually as they came up on shuffle. This particular track didn't actually grab my attention until almost the end. The thing with post-rock is that it can be quite mellow and subdued for a long time before building up and moving on. This usually means you have a lot of loops, which has a hypnotic effect and eventually you almost forget you're listening to anything: this track is one of those. It isn't until the penultimate minute that the music reaches its peak, but trust me it's well worth the journey. Once you've heard it a few times, you'll realise that the melody used at its peak is also played during the build up, but it's very subtle. It's a beautiful and gentle piece which suddenly transcends itself at around 4:45 and hits you with a heavy rock climax for a few seconds before quickly fading to an end, leaving you wanting more.

It's called 'The Heart that Fed' by a band called Caspian:

I distinctly remember being at my computer doing something or other online and at 5:40 I can remember being hit by the music, quickly looking at what it was, and then just sitting there agape until it ended, after which I swiftly played it again and listened to the whole thing with the reverent awe it deserves. If only equal craftsmanship were put into all music.

Another group that feel quite significant to me in terms of my year abroad came about seemingly out of nowhere about a year ago. I was unsure about them for a few weeks, because I wasn't sure whether I 100% liked the vocals on the current single of the time or not. Eventually, I decided that I was intrigued by the production of the song more than anything else. The band (London Grammar) recently won the Ivor Novello 'Best Song' Award for that song, which is now one of my favourites-- it's called 'Strong'. However, you've more than likely heard it, given its popularity, so instead I'll share with you a song called 'Flickers' which I'm currently listening to and which I vividly remember hearing on my way back home from church perhaps early-mid September, since I seem to remember it being fairly dark. London Grammar also have a unique sound for me. I usually don't like electro music that much, but they incorporate it tastefully and subtly into their songs and Hannah's voice is hauntingly beautiful. I listened to their album a lot whilst packing and preparing for France, and I also listened to it on my way here in September, so when I listen to it now, I feel quite nostalgic.

Finally, for this post, I'll leave you with an album track and a single from a fairly old album of another one of my favourite bands. Admittedly I only really started getting into them about four or five years ago, and was always aware of this album, but had never really got round to listening to it. It's a fantastic rock album and the album track stands out for me because of the opening riff and the vocals; the single, because of the energy and the rhythm of the song. Both of them have sort of become summer anthems for me, because I remember walking down the main road from the train station in Lille to the main square with the sun shining, not a cloud in the sky, and with these two songs playing it was just perfect. There are few singers out there who have the power and tone of Caleb Followill, and for that reason, I'm not sure I'll ever get bored of Kings of Leon music.

So, here's 'Ragoo'..:

...and 'Fans':

I hope you enjoy the songs. I'll probably do a second post as there are other bands and songs I'd like to cover.

Until then: salut!

The Trials and Tribulations of Trying to Find a Travail.

I did tell you in my last post to hope not to hear from me for a while because that would mean that I hadn't yet left France, and since you haven't heard from me in a while, that would indicate that I write this to you sitting on my French bed, in my French room, in my French house, very much in France.

Since April, I had been going round every shop I could find and giving out CVs and smiling as sweetly as possible in the hope that someone would take pity on me and give me a job to start around May when I would have finished working in the schools.

The first thing I realised was that finding casual work/summer work in France is much more difficult than in England. A lot of places either had no vacancies, don't take summer workers or had already recruited. The problem when you want to find a summer job in a shop or café is timing it right: hand in your CV early and it will soon be buried under a load of other CVs and never be looked at; hand it in too late, and well, the job is probably already gone. I encountered the second problem more, it would appear. I thought applying a month in advance of wanting a job would be fine, but many places already seemed to be sorted.

However, I was fortunate enough to have a few interviews and, having talked to a few French people, I feel quite lucky because it really does seem that there is very little going at the moment, and even the natives are having a tough time!

My first interview was at a shop I have never actually shopped at. To be honest, I thought they'd laugh me out of the shop because I'd heard that their recruitment process is primarily looks-based, but I went in anyway. It was Hollister. To my surprise, I was immediately asked to an interview on the day of my choice... and that I was to come wearing no make up. Gulp. It doesn't help that the lighting in shops is unflattering even when you're wearing make up, so I could only imagine how awful I would look with none on. It was a group interview, and about 15 people were there-- even the manager was surprised. And... of all the girls there, I was the only one with no make up on. Fabulous. Just wonderful.

Nope, didn't get that one.

The irritating thing is that if they're not recruiting you, you just don't get called. The Hollister waiting period was two weeks. Two weeks! At least for my H&M interview I only had to wait til the evening to see if they were taking me on or not.

In the end I went to a few "Agences d'Intérim". I can't think of anything that resembles this in the UK and the concept is quite odd to be frank, but I at least got 15 hours' work out of it one week. "Agences d'Intérim" are a sort of job centre, but you don't send in an application for a specific job, you just hand in your CV and they assign you to jobs that you're suited to. However, we're talking "missions" that maybe only last a few days. What you're really doing is filling in for someone who is off for a few days, or-- sometimes-- a few months, but that's rare. My three days' work were at Grand Palais, which is the exhibition centre, where there was a medical conference going on and they needed us to welcome the people attending.

The work there wasn't hard, it was more... boring, but, naturally, where I'm concerned there is the odd bit of drama.

The first drama was more a trauma. The trauma of starting work at 7.30, but having to be there at 7 because they're picky about punctuality and to get changed into the uniform. The other issue was that we had to have our hair in a bun-- for 99.9% of girls, this poses no problem; for me, this is like climbing a mountain. It can take me about 15 minutes to get my hair into a bun. I'm just rubbish. Another part of the uniform was wearing make up to give you a 'healthy glow'. (Are we naturally unhealthy and dull looking? And, really, do healthy people glow? I don't think so. Silly concept, really.) Anyway, the trauma was really the fact that to get all this done and get there on time (40 minute commute) I had to get up at 5.30. The first day was surprisingly fine-- I was excited to finally have a job to do! Day two was a little harder. Day three was like rising from the dead.

Another trauma was aimed at my feet. The girls were required to wear black heels, of which I have one pair, which are usually quite comfortable. However, when you have to stand for five hours they are unbearable. I mean, really, if feet could talk, I think mine would have been shouting obscenities from the second hour of day one.

The drama was when on one of the days I was told by one of the girls in my team that I would stay outside the conference hall doors where we had been scanning people's passes before allowing them in, and that I was to tell anyone else who came up to me that we were no longer letting people into this particular conference, and that they would have to wait until the next one. It seemed an odd instruction actually, since we hadn't done that the day before, so I checked I'd understood and it was exactly what I'd been told to do, but I was feeling a little uneasy about it.

I stood for a few minutes hoping no one would come and that I could avoid any awkward confrontation (I hate confrontation-- especially with angry French people.) Of course, people came. The first few were a little surprised at being told they couldn't go in, but went away; a few others said that they had come for the following conference anyway and made no fuss; but another group seemed to have taken it quite personally. There were quite a few of them and they were all talking over each other, so I couldn't really understand what was going on, other than that they did not seem happy. I just explained even more apologetically than before that I had been told that I couldn't let them in and I didn't want to disrupt the conference, and they turned away.

There was a nice man that came up to me a few moments later and-- bless him-- he realised I was foreign and hadn't completely understood what had just happened, and he actually apoligised to me on behalf of the other people. He said they'd been quite rude and he hoped I was okay. Here's a lesson in life: there are possibly more unpleasant people in life than there are nice people, but the uplifting effect of one nice person far outweighs the damaging effects of many horrible ones.

I thought the matter was over and was silently musing over the good people there are out there when suddenly I noticed a large group marching quite speedily towards me. I thought I recognised the group and as they got closer, it dawned on me that they were the angry group from before. I'm not sure quite how to describe the feeling in words, so I'll let The Lion King do it:

Yeah, I'm Simba in case you were wondering...

They would not be stopped. I tried to reason, but they barged past, opened the doors (making a lot of noise I might add) and then a sort of official looking security guy came up to me asking why I'd not let them in. I just looked wide eyed at him, stammered out what I'd been told and hoped he wouldn't eat me.

In the end it was fine, but I was left wondering if actually I'd been set up to do that. Hmmm...

Anyway, eventually I found myself a job at my favourite café and have been working there for about a month. The irony is that now I've found a job, I feel more and more like it might be time for me to leave: my friends have gone home, my colleagues are on month long holidays and, whilst I have a few other friends, I feel that the time is coming and I'm planning on leaving at the beginning of August now. I can visit friends around the UK and prepare for my final year at uni at least.

In any case, I'll be sure to make another post when I leave about my thoughts on this year, looking back, and how it feels to be back permanently in the UK (which will feel strange). I can't believe I started this blog almost a year ago so excited about coming, and now I'm writing about it all coming to an end.

À bientôt!

La Mélodie du Temps Qui Passe

I find it hard to believe that I finished working as an English Assistant a month ago. I felt strange for the whole of the last week, knowing that I would be seeing each class for the last time. It was also the end of term, so it felt like a natural end to the past seven (yes, seven) months, but the idea that by the end of the week, I would have no obligation to stay in France was almost mind-blowing, because, frankly, I can't and don't want to imagine leaving for good. I'm currently job-hunting, and it appears casual work is a little hard to find here-- especially if bar work isn't an option. If I lived closer to Lille itself, I could potentially walk back home if I worked at a bar, but where I actually live is a twenty minute ride on the metro, which unfortunately stops at midnight...

If I don't find anything soon, I'll have to go-- in which case you can expect another blog post, but we're all hoping that this doesn't happen until the end of August, okay?

Well, would you want to leave this place?

Admittedly, these photos aren't from this year. Before I go, I want to take pictures of the various approaches to the two main squares: Le Grand Place and La Place de l'Opéra which are right next to each other. La Vielle Bourse (The Old Stock-Exchange) is in the last picture and I remember when I first saw it (nearly two years ago) with my friend Keelia. The Chamber of Commerce is the tower just behind it, and that's a lovely building, too. At the start of the year, I wondered if I would ever get bored or cease to notice how beautiful the centre of Lille and the old town (Vieux Lille) are, and I can honestly say that each time I approach either of these squares, I'm still in awe. It's been even better recently with the amazing weather we've had and the events that have been going on in Le Grand Place. Every time I've gone into Lille and lingered slightly while walking through these squares, I've thought with a joy and happiness I can't quite explain: "I live here!!"

The thought of leaving for good is genuinely upsetting, and not just because of the place itself. I will miss the friends I have made here very much and all the places I go to with them: various cafés, bars, restaurants, Franglish (a language café I go to on Tuesdays) and the fun that I had there with them. There's a certain atmosphere about the place that just makes you want to stay, too, not to mention hearing French everywhere.

French people have a certain way of phrasing things that really only French people seem to be able to do and once you begin to understand the language, you start to notice all these little details. The beauty of it is really only apparent when you can hear each component of a person's speech and examine the word order and grammatical construction of a written text. Admittedly, I can't express myself in this subtly-French way, but I never tire of hearing or seeing it. For example, as a native speaker of a language where there are no such things as gendered nouns, the 'masculine'/'feminine'/'plural' issue can be annoying, but at the same time I find it quite beautiful that native speakers of languages where these categories (and more) exist are so naturally trained to think about the gender and number of the things they are talking about, or the people they are talking to, and are immediately able to adjust the article preceding the noun and the adjective(s) that describe it.

Every time I get to England and the sudden onslaught of my native language hits me, I feel sad. I can understand every word: there's no mystery about what anyone says, there's no new linguistic detail to listen to or look out for. Everything makes immediate and perfect sense. Of course, I'm pretty sure I can say I am fluent in French now, but to get to the stage where you understand absolutely everything 100% whether you're tired or not, and to know all the slang (French slang can be fairly mind-boggling), I think you need to be immersed in the language and culture for a few years.

I suppose what's keeping me here is that I still have things to learn and a life that I'm not willing to leave.




Getting back to my last week at work, I was certainly touched by the farewells I received:

This was from my 4ème euro class, who I'll miss a lot!

This is from the 6èmes (the youngest class)-- they are the cutest kids ever!

This was from another 4ème euro class who were really fun to work with! They got me a box of chocolates, too, but they're obviously... no longer available.

This is everything from all the classes I had in one of the schools.

I also acquired an admirer from a class I didn't teach!

N'awww

I must say, I felt like I must have been doing my job right when, one Tuesday afternoon, I was on my way to the bus stop to go back home and (naturally) the bus was about three minutes early and drove by without me... The next one was in 15-20 minutes. I was standing by the bus stop feeling mildly bitter when four of the girls from my Friday morning 4ème class came over to say hello. We chatted for a while and I asked them if they were waiting for the bus too, and they said no, they just didn't want me to wait at the bus stop alone! They waited the full 20 minutes until I was on the bus and then they went! Adorable!

La Fin

Today also happens to be the day when the production I'd been helping the English teachers with in one of the schools was finally on show. That really felt like the end of an era. We'd worked on writing our own version of West Side Story for a show for parents and it really was brilliant. Honestly, teachers put in so much work for these things, and they are so rarely recognised for what they do. The kids were brilliant and there were so many talents on display with all the singing and dancing, stage props and the play itself. I'm very proud to have helped even the smallest amount, because it was great and the students definitely enjoyed themselves.

La Bêtise

I'll leave you with a slight faux-pas (quite literally speaking, actually)...

So, I walked into the school this morning (it was also an open day, so they had a registration desk in the reception area), but I seemed to have forgotten that there was the slightest step just after the door and, well... I didn't quite go flying, but it was definitely a fairly conspicuous trip witnessed by the two teenagers at the welcome desk (of course). I laughed it off, because it was quite funny, but I was slightly mortified.

À la prochaine!

Holiday Adventures: Part II

I said I'd get back to you about Amsterdam, so here I am. I had had this trip planned for about two months-- well, actually, Paul (the friend I met there) and I had said in September that we'd meet up in Amsterdam soon, but we hadn't got round to organising and booking it until January. It's much like how I plan to write my next blog post a few days after the last, but don't actually do it until a few weeks later... You know how these things are.

This was the last weekend of the February half term and I went the day after I got back from Lyon with Mark. To be honest, I didn't really know what to expect. Of course, I knew the two main things people do there: weed and prostitutes. (Not necessarily in that order-- oh, and, pun intended.) However, I was completely clueless as to how the city would look and what else there would be to do there. 

My first challenge was biting the bullet and admitting that I was linguistically lost. I imagine most erasmus students feel a certain pride in being able to express themselves in at least one foreign language, and when you've been submerged in the culture of a different country with a different language for a few months, it's easy to forget that you can feel useless and isolated. Having been an English assistant, I actually feel fortunate that my mother tongue is English because a) it's quite difficult, and b) because it's such a unique language with both romantic and germanic influences, making it very versatile and rich. That said, I feel nothing but embarrassment and shame at the thought of speaking English in a foreign country. Admittedly, it's mainly pride: 'No, I am not one of the (frankly, too many) native English-speakers who assume that everyone in the world speaks and understands English perfectly, thus I need not bother myself with learning any other language. I speak French-- and even a tiny bit of German.' Okay, so when I try to speak/think in German these days I almost immediately stream into French and come out with bizarre things like 'Ich voudrais...' (I would like), but I make the effort.

In honesty, I feel shame when I hear a native English-speaking tourist in France making not the slightest effort to say any French (not even 'bonjour' (hello), 's'il vous plaît' (please) or 'merci' (thank you)). Even an apologetic look would be something, but no, I see so many arrogantly stroll up to a shop assistant/waiter and speak as if they were still in their home country. Imagine this happening in England: a French/German/Spanish person walking into a restaurant and speaking their mother tongue. They'd get nowhere. And, we'd all get indignant about how this is England and we speak English etc, etc. It makes me furious. 

To avoid this stigma, at least for a brief time, I decided to use German. I'd heard a bit of Dutch before, and it does strongly resemble German and English (especially written), so I thought I'd blow the dust off the German words floating somewhere in my brain. It was pretty rusty, and the bus driver I was talking to didn't understand a word (naturally) and simply asked if I spoke English. 'Yes.' I sighed. To compensate for my Englishness, I tried to speak as little as possible and say only what was strictly necessary to get my bus ticket and looked constantly apologetic for my Englishness and overly thankful for his good nature.

It soon became apparent, that if you don't speak Dutch (as most people who are not from Holland don't) you really need to speak English (not French or German, alas.) So, I asked the hotel receptionist to write down a few useful phrases for me so I could at least be polite and ignorant. I don't remember what 'hello' is in fact. I can only think of 'God dag', which is Norwegian, and is fairly similar I think... 'Dank ye well' (said dank-e-vell) is 'thank you' and that's all I remember now although I used other things, too. Whilst I still felt guilty about being English for the majority of the time, I can at least say that being able to say just a few polite words makes so much difference. Paul and I were commenting on how well everyone spoke English and we even think that speaking fluent English must be a basic requirement to work anywhere in Amsterdam because of how many tourists speak English as a first or second language. 

There was one incident in a café where we had lunch when I went to the bar to collect something I ordered and a 20-something girl barged in asking something (no 'hello', 'sorry to bother you', 'sorry, I don't speak Dutch', nothing.) I must be honest, I didn't realise she was English at first. She had the strongest accent I have ever heard. Naturally, the waitress didn't understand a word, so she repeated her question (she was asking where Dam Square was) but still the waitress didn't understand. I didn't really feel like helping the girl out-- as harsh as that may seem, I find it incredible that someone can be so ignorant about what it is to speak another language. I come from Birmingham-- I don't have the famous accent, no, but I at least know I need to speak with a fairly neutral accent and avoid using lots of slang and so on when speaking English to a foreigner. Obviously, people don't learn English with a Liverpool/Birmingham/Manchester/Cornwall... accent: much as I didn't learn French with a Ch'ti accent. 

Rant over.

So, Amsterdam. 

I had a bit of time to kill before Paul arrived, so I checked into the hotel, dumped my bags and picked up some leaflets about attractions and got the bus to the main station. Having been on a coach for three and a half hours and various buses for maybe another hour, I got myself a drink and some food, armed with my polite phrases and all went well. The baristas all looked appreciative of the fact I was speaking a few words of Dutch, and it's actually a very satisfying thing to do.

After, I had a quick walk up the main street from the station where I was almost immediately run over by a bicycle. If there's one thing they know how to do-- aside from prostitutes and weed-- over there, it's bikes and cycle lanes. They're everywhere. I've never seen anything like it. There's a multi-story bike park next to the station that is just full of bikes, and they're all by the canal-front too. I've never seen so many in one place in my life. Good on them, too. 

Anyway, Paul eventually arrived and we went back to the hotel so he could leave his bags and then we went to eat. Amsterdam is lovely at night. Since there are lots of canals, there are lots of bridges and at night, they are lit up:

We didn't actually do an awful lot while we were there-- this was partly because of how busy it was. The queue for Anne Frank's house was crazy, so we went to the Van Gogh museum instead, which was brilliant. We also walked around Vondelpark which was full of people, but it's still a nice place to visit. Unfortunately, the tulip gardens weren't yet open, but views like this aren't too shabby: 

Aside from this, we just explored the city and relaxed, which is no bad thing. On our adventures, we happened upon the most depressing pub in the world which played the most depressing songs imaginable and was playing Spartacus, I believe, on the tv directly opposite us. All I have to say about that is that I'm glad I drink white wine, not red. We also ate in a restaurant where the owner's pet cat was allowed to walk around freely, which made me very happy, although I'm not sure Paul felt the same way...

Sunday came around very quickly, and it was sad to say goodbye to a friend, but at least I liked where I was going: home. That's how France feels now.

I finished my time in the schools only about a week ago, but I'll tell you all about that soon/in a few weeks.

À bientôt! (Sort of.)

Holiday Adventures: Part I

Okay, okay, I know I said I'd write sooner-- in fact I did write very soon after my travels, however Blogger decided to lose my draft (twice!) and I was in a mood with it, so...

In fact, before I get onto my travels, I've had a bit of a technological nightmare recently. Not only did I lose my blogs, but my phone had a curious episode where all of a sudden it changed the home screen unlock completely. By itself. I always had a pattern, but I woke up the Tuesday after getting back from my travels and found that suddenly I had a keypad with a code I naturally didn't know, and so my phone completely inaccessible. (And before you think of all the obvious codes: 0000, 1111, 1234, and backwards and suchlike, I tried everything to no avail.)

Of course, phones aren't everything, but they are darn useful. On Tuesdays, I start work at 8 and at 7.30 I meet a colleague who picks me up at a metro station in another town and drives us both to work. I got to my local station on time and got on a metro straight away. All good so far. Then I noticed the doors were staying open longer than usual... Trust this to be the day where the whole line breaks down for a fairly significant amount of time in terms of the daily commute. I knew I'd be really late, but of course, how could I warn my colleague? I had to run home (since I don't live far from the metro), send her a Facebook message and pray she saw it. She didn't. Cutting a fairly long story short, I was about 30-40 minutes late to work and had no way of telling anyone I would be, and felt awful about my colleague having to wait for me for no reason and the teacher and class I should have been with having no idea where I was. After days of trying to resolve the phone issue, it seemed the only way to fix it was to get a factory reset and lose everything-- photos of my time in France, holidays and the rest! (Thank goodness for Facebook sync.)

I digress...

As I mentioned in my last post, I have now traveled a little more during the school holidays. The first place I actually went was home, just for a few days so I could bring some things back and see friends and family. It felt quite strange going back-- especially as it was only about 7 weeks ago that I'd gone back to France after the Christmas holidays.

My first real holiday destination was Lyon. Until then, I'd never been to the south of France and I'd been very keen to visit, especially since it's known for being quite warm! I met my friend Mark at the train station in Lyon and we walked through the town in search of the youth hostel we'd booked. The walk was great because we got to see quite a bit of the town since the youth hostel was half way up the hill in the old part of town-- the opposite side of town to the train station.

There are two rivers in Lyon (the Rhône and the Saône) and they aren't far from each other. We noticed that the colour of the water was really unusual. Sometimes the water was extremely blue, sometimes an opaque jade green-- but never that horrible mucky colour we're so used to at home.

Before you ask, I don't know which is which, or even if they're the same river or not...

One of the best things about Lyon is the regional praline tart

Although it looks fruity, it's just pralines and sugar. I think they dye it pink with some sort of rose extract: it's amazing. It's probably a good job I don't live there. I will also take the opportunity to add that if museums and churches don't do it for you, it's well worth eating your way around France-- not that that's a main appeal for me or anything. (Ahem.)

In honesty, I didn't expect to enjoy Lyon as much as I did. but in fact there's loads to do there. Our hostel wasn't far from the basilica and the first century ampitheatres, so on our second day we explored the top of the hill. 

Firstly, there was a great view of Lyon from the hostel:

The ampitheatres were really cool to see. When you know something is as old as that, it's mind-blowing to think how many people must have been where you're standing and what they were doing. 

Mark went down well with the crowd:

Was it something I said?

The Basilica was an amazing site and somewhere I'd definitely recommend going if you're ever in Lyon.

The photos really can't quite convey how amazing it is inside. Unfortunately, there was some maintenance being done on the exterior, so I couldn't get particularly good pictures of that, but it's the inside that's worth seeing!

The weather was absolutely wonderful all the time we were there, so we decided to go to Le Parc de la Tête d'Or. I didn't have high expectations of it, I just thought it would be a nice place to have a quick walk around. How wrong I was! When the weather is nice, you really can spend a whole afternoon-- maybe even a whole day there. It's huge. There's a zoo and a huge tropical greenhouse (although we didn't go in there). The grounds are beautifully kept and there's a lake with an underground passage to get to the island in the middle which we thought was a cool idea. 

View from the island.

Did you know that a leopard is 'panthère de l'amour' in French? (Love panther)? Hmmm....

I think the highlight was the poor deer who was a bit too enthusiastic about licking all the flavour out of a bag of crisps and got the bag stuck over his upper jaw and his nose for quite a while (don't worry, he could still breathe and he eventually shook it off, but it's a reminder not to litter, nonetheless).

Bless...

It's safe to say we did a lot of walking, which of course merited some good food in the evening-- in particular, this crêpe:

I feel hungry just remembering it!

Anyway, that's a taster of Lyon for you. It really is a great place to just walk around and explore and the old part of town is really charming. 

Provided that I don't have another Blogger melt-down, I'll post about my trip to Amsterdam soon!

À bientôt!

Recent Travels (Part II)

As promised, here is the second installment of my recent adventures with a little bit about adventures to come.

Paris

Ridiculous though it may seem, even though I live only about an hour away by train, I have not been to Paris since arriving in Lille. That said, I have been a few times before-- mainly to Disney Land as a child, but I have also done a lot of site seeing there too.

When I heard a few friends were visiting Paris for a few days with some other friends, I thought 'Why not join them?' They're teaching assistants like me, but in Germany and it had been about eight or nine months since I had last seen them, which made the trip all the more exciting.

We arranged to meet in Montmartre and before my friends arrived, I engaged in a bit of people-watching. Most notably, there was a man who was just the sort of person I had hoped would live in Paris. He was quite quirky looking: middle-aged; long-ish, curly hair; fairly small, circular glasses and wearing pretty normal clothes save for the green suede loafers he was also wearing which were what caught my attention. He's the sort of person who I imagine lives in a converted white town-house apartment with black doors and window frames on a quiet street, working most of the day in a bohemian study-room where he either paints, writes or studies academic papers and gets through approximately 27 espressos per day, owns a tabby cat and smokes.

Not that I judge by appearances, you understand.


Once my friends had arrived and while we waiting for one of their friends to arrive, we did what one generally does in France, which is get cake. Frankly, if there's anywhere in the world that is a menace to dieters and those particularly concerned about staying in shape, it's France. It doesn't matter how strong your resolve is on Sunday evening, for example, to eat healthily starting from Monday morning, you absolutely won't succeed even to Monday afternoon...

...Well, you try saying no to freshly baked pastry, bread, cakes, pâtisseries, nutella-based goods (the best kind of goods) and goodness knows what else. Cake is persuasive.

And if you don't believe me, voici:

Perhaps a crime to eat in fact, but undoubtedly a crime not to.


Montmartre is an interesting area of Paris: notoriously dodgy in terms of pick-pocketers and muggings, but also a charming place full of old cobbled streets, lovely buildings and with the Basilique de Sacré Cœur at the very top of the hill. It's also home to the famous artists' square which is full of painters of extraordinary talent. There's an infectious hustle and bustle everywhere that makes you gravitate towards it and not want to leave.

Our next stop wasn't something I'd expected. We went to Galeries Lafayette, of which there is one in Lille. I was a little confused at first as to why this was such a priority, because, whilst it's a great department store in Lille, I hadn't been aware of it being an attraction in Paris.

I soon worked it out.

It. Is. Huge. Not only that, it happens to be in a very beautiful old building and looking up from the ground floor there is a beautiful domed glass ceiling with ornate balconies at the edge of each floor. The layout is cylindrical, so the balconies face inwards and overlook the ground floor and make for quite an impressive view with all the haute couture brands such as Chanel, Dior, YSL and Givenchy visible from every direction. Needless to say, I bought nothing, but it was still worth going. There's even a roof terrace from which you can see the Opera House, Eiffel Tower and various other sites around Paris. The weather wasn't great, unfortunately, but here are a couple of pictures of the view:

There's always room for a silly partial-group photo too:

This is Paul, Marie, Tom and me (the one with the chubby cheeks- some things never change).

Later, we went to the Notre Dame area and walked around for a bit. It was incredibly busy, so we didn't go inside, but just being in Paris is a great experience. We got more food-- naturally-- and headed towards the Saint Lazarre station because someone had a train to catch. We hung around a bit longer looking round the shops, then it was time for me to head to Paris Nord station and leave myself. It was definitely a day well spent and I certainly want to go back over the school holidays because I have yet to visit the Louvre and, according to Paul (who doesn't like art galleries), it's well worth a visit.

You can in fact expect yet more blogs (!!) because in a week or so I'll be meeting a friend in Lyon for a few days and I'll be meeting Paul in Amsterdam! I'm sure there'll be much to blog about as I've never visited either city. It's also more than likely I'll have a few Jess-moments, so you'll be able to hear all about those, too.

À bientôt!