First of all,....I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's been a month since I last wrote, I know.
Here are some things I know about France:
Pain au chocolat is cheap and delicious.
Ordering coffee at a cafe will get you a tiny and very concentrated cup.
The French love their dogs.
And most let their dogs shit all over the sidewalk.
Aside from cafes and some grocery stores, most places are not open before 10.
Aside from restaurants and some grocery stores, most places are not open past 7pm.
France closes down on Sundays. Stock up on groceries etc the day before.
If you didn't stock up, try to find the 1/4 of the cafes that might still be open.
If Sunday off wasn't enough, many stores/cafes also take Monday off as well.
People smoke, a lot.
Bars close at 1am.
Discotheques/after hours bars/boites are your only option after bar close and they are guaranteed to be a. skeazy and b. overpriced.
Tip is included in tab at eating places.
Schools are closed Wednesday afternoons, but open Saturday mornings.
French women are skinny.
I love cheese. therefore, I am not.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Day Trip to Limoux: the birthplace of sparkling white wine
Just this past Sunday, Sam and I decided to venture over to a new French town, one that isn't far away, but as of then yet unexplored. The name of the town is Limoux, and its claim to fame is, in keeping with the French style, booze. I suppose many would list the three month carnival-like festival as the premier reason to visit, but then, that doesn't begin for another couple of weeks, so I will leave that for a later post.
The sparkling wine of the region is called Blanquette, which basically means white, and doesn't sound very inspired, but then Champagne is just named after a region, so it appears the French weren't being overly creative hundreds of years ago. The Blanquette of the Limoux region dates back further than the creation of Champagne and is said to be the first sparkling white wine ever made. The good monks of the local abbey apparently discovered it by accident, but after that the idea stuck. Legend states that good ole Dom Perignon stole the secrets of Blanquette and hightailed it over to Champagne, and there the bubbly beverage was given its most popular name. Some experts, however, note that certain Blanquette varieties are just as good if not better than it's more famous cousin. I had a couple glasses of the sweeter version, and though I am no aficionado, it tasted pretty damn good to me.
Limoux also boasts the “longest carnival celebration in the world.” I have no idea if another town somewhere can claim the same, so I'll just take their word for it. It runs from the end of January (sadly we missed it, but are planning to go back) through February and March and into April. I'm not exactly sure what's involved, but costumes, parades, music, and wine must be included. Count me in!
The two of us wandered over on Sunday, and unfortunately the local wineries (so, wine tastings) were closed. Without the carnival on the town was quiet, but still brimming with the charm that comes with old French towns. We stopped by the main square first and stopped into the local cafe for a giant cup of cafe au lait and a couple yummy French pastries. After that, we wandered around the winding stone streets and eventually made it down to the river, the Aude. The sun was shining for most of the morning so we took advantage. As the sky started to turn grey, we went inside, specifically inside the home of a married teacher couple that Sam works with in Carcassonne. They were friendly, welcoming people, with two very cute and intelligent children. We spent the rest of the afternoon with them, eating and conversing in French.
The bus ride home, like the ride there, was lovely, and I can't wait to make it again when we return during carnival time!
The sparkling wine of the region is called Blanquette, which basically means white, and doesn't sound very inspired, but then Champagne is just named after a region, so it appears the French weren't being overly creative hundreds of years ago. The Blanquette of the Limoux region dates back further than the creation of Champagne and is said to be the first sparkling white wine ever made. The good monks of the local abbey apparently discovered it by accident, but after that the idea stuck. Legend states that good ole Dom Perignon stole the secrets of Blanquette and hightailed it over to Champagne, and there the bubbly beverage was given its most popular name. Some experts, however, note that certain Blanquette varieties are just as good if not better than it's more famous cousin. I had a couple glasses of the sweeter version, and though I am no aficionado, it tasted pretty damn good to me.
Limoux also boasts the “longest carnival celebration in the world.” I have no idea if another town somewhere can claim the same, so I'll just take their word for it. It runs from the end of January (sadly we missed it, but are planning to go back) through February and March and into April. I'm not exactly sure what's involved, but costumes, parades, music, and wine must be included. Count me in!
The two of us wandered over on Sunday, and unfortunately the local wineries (so, wine tastings) were closed. Without the carnival on the town was quiet, but still brimming with the charm that comes with old French towns. We stopped by the main square first and stopped into the local cafe for a giant cup of cafe au lait and a couple yummy French pastries. After that, we wandered around the winding stone streets and eventually made it down to the river, the Aude. The sun was shining for most of the morning so we took advantage. As the sky started to turn grey, we went inside, specifically inside the home of a married teacher couple that Sam works with in Carcassonne. They were friendly, welcoming people, with two very cute and intelligent children. We spent the rest of the afternoon with them, eating and conversing in French.
The bus ride home, like the ride there, was lovely, and I can't wait to make it again when we return during carnival time!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Les Catastrophes de Beziers
After witnessing another fine specimen of the Beziers population, I have finally decided to devote an entire blog post to the "catastrophes de Beziers".
Last Wednesday, my friend Colleen, our new French friend Sylvain, and I were at O'Sullivans pub for the weekly quiz night. We won by the way, though we do have to think of a better team name. Any suggestions?
Anyway, at about 10:30pm or so a woman entered the pub. I'd guess she was in her mid to late 60s, but who knows; some French women don't age gracefully at all, and a woman going into a bar already half in the bag a few hours shy of midnight probably hasn't been too easy on herself. Her face was rather pretty though, think Dame Judi Dench a la As Time Goes By. Unfortunately, she was rather plump and ample chested - which leads us to her biggest problem that evening.
She was resting on a stool just a few feet from our table, and as she took off her coat, I could have sworn I saw a flash of nipple. I couldn't be sure as she sat with her back to us for a bit after that, but as she turned back our way, I was, unfortunately, quite sure of what I had seen. She was wearing a sheer-ish hip length leopard print blouse, but under that, she was sporting a very low cut, black, lacy bustier-type top. and she was, without mincing words, 'busting out all over'. To say that I saw nipple would be a stretch I suppose, but a good few centimeters of areoles were present at all times. This attracted the attention and glances of more than one man at the bar, and in her favor, most of them were over 40. I still don't know if she realized, but I'm guessing she just didn't care. She was even joined by a gal pal a bit later, who apparently said nothing - to which Colleen leaned over and whispered, "I'd be a better friend than that. I'd definitely let you know if your nipples were hanging out." Thanks Colleen! but let's pray it never comes to that.
Our very own 'nipplegate' and her wardrobe malfunction stayed at the bar for as long as we did, - until midnight, and managed to chow down two plates of bar food (the smoked salmon plate and the good ole fried stuff plate) with her friend. There was no escaping the sight, as she was sitting directly in front of me, and I still don't know which part was worse - the ever present areoles, or watching her stuff her face with her chubby, be-ringed fingers, complete with long claw like fake nails. Whatever it was, it was too much. just too much. At least it makes for good blogging!
I post more updates on the 'catastrophes de Beziers' as they come up. And don't worry, they're never few and far between.
Last Wednesday, my friend Colleen, our new French friend Sylvain, and I were at O'Sullivans pub for the weekly quiz night. We won by the way, though we do have to think of a better team name. Any suggestions?
Anyway, at about 10:30pm or so a woman entered the pub. I'd guess she was in her mid to late 60s, but who knows; some French women don't age gracefully at all, and a woman going into a bar already half in the bag a few hours shy of midnight probably hasn't been too easy on herself. Her face was rather pretty though, think Dame Judi Dench a la As Time Goes By. Unfortunately, she was rather plump and ample chested - which leads us to her biggest problem that evening.
She was resting on a stool just a few feet from our table, and as she took off her coat, I could have sworn I saw a flash of nipple. I couldn't be sure as she sat with her back to us for a bit after that, but as she turned back our way, I was, unfortunately, quite sure of what I had seen. She was wearing a sheer-ish hip length leopard print blouse, but under that, she was sporting a very low cut, black, lacy bustier-type top. and she was, without mincing words, 'busting out all over'. To say that I saw nipple would be a stretch I suppose, but a good few centimeters of areoles were present at all times. This attracted the attention and glances of more than one man at the bar, and in her favor, most of them were over 40. I still don't know if she realized, but I'm guessing she just didn't care. She was even joined by a gal pal a bit later, who apparently said nothing - to which Colleen leaned over and whispered, "I'd be a better friend than that. I'd definitely let you know if your nipples were hanging out." Thanks Colleen! but let's pray it never comes to that.
Our very own 'nipplegate' and her wardrobe malfunction stayed at the bar for as long as we did, - until midnight, and managed to chow down two plates of bar food (the smoked salmon plate and the good ole fried stuff plate) with her friend. There was no escaping the sight, as she was sitting directly in front of me, and I still don't know which part was worse - the ever present areoles, or watching her stuff her face with her chubby, be-ringed fingers, complete with long claw like fake nails. Whatever it was, it was too much. just too much. At least it makes for good blogging!
I post more updates on the 'catastrophes de Beziers' as they come up. And don't worry, they're never few and far between.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
It Was Still Christmas Eve....
Sorry about the Delay!
After Sam and I landed in ye ole England, we hit the icy roads along the coast. Everything was going smoothly (sorta), albeit slowly until we got up to Chichester. Then, apparently (because I was being a piss poor excuse for a passenger and was sleeping) we broke down. Luckily, Sam had his pillow and duvet on hand, so the wait was definitely worse for him than for me. Though the tow truck man had wasted close to an hour trying to find us - thanks to some mix up with the directions, he was still kind enough to give us a lift all the way back to Sam's parents' home. By that time, it was 3am. Fun times!
I can't really complain too much, since what would a road trip be without something going awry?...and I did get a full English breakfast in the morning thanks to Sam's parents. Eggs on toast, Bacon, Sausage, Baked Beans, Fried Tomatoes and Mushrooms, and good strong Tea. Yummmm.
We drove the short distance down to the coast after that and checked out the Isle of Wight (from a distance obviously) and then had some extravagant looking hot chocolates at the Keyhaven yacht club. - sounds a bit fancier than it is.
The next day, my train to Bath was cancelled, but the nice man manning the booth at the gate wrote his initials on my ticket and let me go through an hour earlier, as opposed to an hour later. In Bath, I was picked up by my friend Sean's mom. Sean is an old friend from my study abroad days - who I hadn't seen for two years! I spent three lovely days with him and his family, checking out the sights, relaxing, and always eating and drinking well.
I continued my cross country (sorta) adventure and hopped on the train back over to London (specifically, Chessington) to spend the next five days, including Christmas, with my cousin Rachelle, her husband Matthew, and their five yr old son, William. They had gotten a Wii, so I spent many an hour improving my lackluster video game skills. William and I played with legos on the night I babysat, and in general I lazed about, drank more tea, took a couple walks, but mostly just relaxed. It wasn't so much different than Christmas vacation back home, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little bit melancholy about being away.
However, I'm back in Béziers now, back at work, and getting back into my old routine.
After Sam and I landed in ye ole England, we hit the icy roads along the coast. Everything was going smoothly (sorta), albeit slowly until we got up to Chichester. Then, apparently (because I was being a piss poor excuse for a passenger and was sleeping) we broke down. Luckily, Sam had his pillow and duvet on hand, so the wait was definitely worse for him than for me. Though the tow truck man had wasted close to an hour trying to find us - thanks to some mix up with the directions, he was still kind enough to give us a lift all the way back to Sam's parents' home. By that time, it was 3am. Fun times!
I can't really complain too much, since what would a road trip be without something going awry?...and I did get a full English breakfast in the morning thanks to Sam's parents. Eggs on toast, Bacon, Sausage, Baked Beans, Fried Tomatoes and Mushrooms, and good strong Tea. Yummmm.
We drove the short distance down to the coast after that and checked out the Isle of Wight (from a distance obviously) and then had some extravagant looking hot chocolates at the Keyhaven yacht club. - sounds a bit fancier than it is.
The next day, my train to Bath was cancelled, but the nice man manning the booth at the gate wrote his initials on my ticket and let me go through an hour earlier, as opposed to an hour later. In Bath, I was picked up by my friend Sean's mom. Sean is an old friend from my study abroad days - who I hadn't seen for two years! I spent three lovely days with him and his family, checking out the sights, relaxing, and always eating and drinking well.
I continued my cross country (sorta) adventure and hopped on the train back over to London (specifically, Chessington) to spend the next five days, including Christmas, with my cousin Rachelle, her husband Matthew, and their five yr old son, William. They had gotten a Wii, so I spent many an hour improving my lackluster video game skills. William and I played with legos on the night I babysat, and in general I lazed about, drank more tea, took a couple walks, but mostly just relaxed. It wasn't so much different than Christmas vacation back home, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little bit melancholy about being away.
However, I'm back in Béziers now, back at work, and getting back into my old routine.
Friday, December 24, 2010
It was Christmas Eve babe...
To kick off my first Christmas vacation away from my family, I decided to ditch my boring old flight and take a roadtrip instead. My friend Sam and I took off on Friday evening and headed north, into the best bad weather France could conjure up for us. We were trying to make good time in order to catch the ferry from Dieppe to New Haven, so we were forced to take the toll heavy autoroutes instead of the scenic route. As Sam's car is a British model, I lounged out in the left hand seat, garnering many a strange look from passing cars. I think I proved myself to be an excellent wingwoman, opening bottle caps, passing food items, and scrolling down the window to pay the tolls. Though French weather tried to break our stride, we made it to Dieppe and the ferry. Luckily we were armed with a bottle of wine, which made the four hour boat trip across the channel a lot more fun.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Dreams of Christmas Past
As promised, here is a post about Christmas traditions with my family - since it will be my first Christmas away from my family.
In Christmas' past, my father, who works for the Forest Service had a permit and we'd trek out into the Nat'l Forest to pick out our tree. The five of us would load into the truck with our hats and mittens and a thermos of hot cocoa, and once we found the perfect tree, Dad would take the saw to it and voila. These days, we pick out our tree pre-cut and cart it home. Our ceilings are ten feet, so our tree is always massive. In the days before any of us girls went off to college, we'd take one of the early weekends in December to decorate the tree. Each of us three have a hallmark ornament for each Christmas and we'd cover the tree in ornaments, lights, ribbons, and candy canes. The cats drink the water in the tree stand, they do love their pine water. We'd also take the weekend to bake cookies and breads while listening to Christmas carols. We hung up the stockings and wrapped garland around the house.
On Christmas Eve, we eat a big dinner. Usually we have salmon and shrimp, while my dad always has some oyster soup...blech. Then, we get ready for midnight mass (which is usually at 9/10pm) and afterwards, we drive around looking at Christmas decorations and lights around the the town.
Then we snuggled into bed and waited for Santa. In the morning, we snuck downstairs and saw the tree all lit up and in the dark morning, it cast the living room in a warm glow. Our stockings, crocheted by my grandmother, were laid in front of the tree filled with little goodies. When our parents came downstairs, we all got a pastry and cup of coffee or cocoa and settled around the tree to open the presents - one gift opened by each person at a time. When this was done, the cats would play with the wrapping paper and we would try out our gifts and play any CDs we had received.
We had another big meal in the afternoon with turkey and salads and such, and then would relax and do nothing for the rest of the day. It was magical. I'll really miss the traditions this Christmas, but I'll also be making new memories, and having new explorations.
In Christmas' past, my father, who works for the Forest Service had a permit and we'd trek out into the Nat'l Forest to pick out our tree. The five of us would load into the truck with our hats and mittens and a thermos of hot cocoa, and once we found the perfect tree, Dad would take the saw to it and voila. These days, we pick out our tree pre-cut and cart it home. Our ceilings are ten feet, so our tree is always massive. In the days before any of us girls went off to college, we'd take one of the early weekends in December to decorate the tree. Each of us three have a hallmark ornament for each Christmas and we'd cover the tree in ornaments, lights, ribbons, and candy canes. The cats drink the water in the tree stand, they do love their pine water. We'd also take the weekend to bake cookies and breads while listening to Christmas carols. We hung up the stockings and wrapped garland around the house.
On Christmas Eve, we eat a big dinner. Usually we have salmon and shrimp, while my dad always has some oyster soup...blech. Then, we get ready for midnight mass (which is usually at 9/10pm) and afterwards, we drive around looking at Christmas decorations and lights around the the town.
Then we snuggled into bed and waited for Santa. In the morning, we snuck downstairs and saw the tree all lit up and in the dark morning, it cast the living room in a warm glow. Our stockings, crocheted by my grandmother, were laid in front of the tree filled with little goodies. When our parents came downstairs, we all got a pastry and cup of coffee or cocoa and settled around the tree to open the presents - one gift opened by each person at a time. When this was done, the cats would play with the wrapping paper and we would try out our gifts and play any CDs we had received.
We had another big meal in the afternoon with turkey and salads and such, and then would relax and do nothing for the rest of the day. It was magical. I'll really miss the traditions this Christmas, but I'll also be making new memories, and having new explorations.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Thoughts
I'm sitting in the teacher's computer lab on this chilly morning, taking advantage of the cheap coffee machine and free internet. I would normally be typing this on my laptop (with the english keyboard) in my apt, but well, there hasn't been any heat there for the past ten days. The building is also rather old, so there is no insulation in the walls, and that added to the broken furnace = it's like I'm living and sleeping outside. One of my teachers was kind enough to allow me to eat and sleep at her home three nights and I've spent other nights at friends' places. The FJT has also given me a temporary room in the main (and heated) building, so at least I have a warm place to sleep. On tuesday, they said that it would be finished and working on wednesday, and then yesterday afternoon they said it will be fixed today (thursday Dec 2nd). Le sigh.
I'm also cruising on into December and the end of the first semester teaching in France. I suppose some reflection is in order. I've gotten a bit into the swing of things, I've had a few really great lessons, a few terrible ones, and lots of mediocre ones. I teach the equivalent of 6th - 9th grades. Honestly, it hasn't been as difficult as I had imagined, luckily I'm something of a novelty and thus a special treat, so the behavior when I work with them reflects this. And for the first time in my life, I feel like an adult.
Technically, I've been an adult for the past four years, but there are times lately when I feel old. haha. I attribute a lot of those feelings to the fact that I'm working with children, children who are between eleven and seven years younger, but the gap seems so wide. One student died at the end of October, and though I had only seen her a few times, it was quite a shock, a horrible one at that. I started to understand that horror that adults feel when young people die. One of my teachers also shared a little about the backgrounds of some of my oldest students and I was shocked by some of the stories of terrible parenting. Granted, I don't even know if I want children, but I've developed some rather strong attitudes on the subject seeing students in class that are not having the childhoods they should be.
In this holiday season, I'm also starting to miss my own family rather acutely. It was my second Thanksgiving away from home, but it will be my first Christmas away. I think I'll devote my next post to memories of some Christmas traditions.
Hope all is well with everyone.
I'm also cruising on into December and the end of the first semester teaching in France. I suppose some reflection is in order. I've gotten a bit into the swing of things, I've had a few really great lessons, a few terrible ones, and lots of mediocre ones. I teach the equivalent of 6th - 9th grades. Honestly, it hasn't been as difficult as I had imagined, luckily I'm something of a novelty and thus a special treat, so the behavior when I work with them reflects this. And for the first time in my life, I feel like an adult.
Technically, I've been an adult for the past four years, but there are times lately when I feel old. haha. I attribute a lot of those feelings to the fact that I'm working with children, children who are between eleven and seven years younger, but the gap seems so wide. One student died at the end of October, and though I had only seen her a few times, it was quite a shock, a horrible one at that. I started to understand that horror that adults feel when young people die. One of my teachers also shared a little about the backgrounds of some of my oldest students and I was shocked by some of the stories of terrible parenting. Granted, I don't even know if I want children, but I've developed some rather strong attitudes on the subject seeing students in class that are not having the childhoods they should be.
In this holiday season, I'm also starting to miss my own family rather acutely. It was my second Thanksgiving away from home, but it will be my first Christmas away. I think I'll devote my next post to memories of some Christmas traditions.
Hope all is well with everyone.
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