'Trouver d'abord, chercher après'

Following a mutual agreement that there hasn't been enough 'city hopping' together since settling into Bordeaux, this last weekend saw a girls' weekend in Toulouse. Upon our arrival on the Friday evening- after a 2 and half hour train trip congregated in the bar area drinking from novelty-sized cans of 1664 and vin blanc- we popped into the local 'Pizzeria' (pizza fast-food joint by day, suspicious 'gentleman's club by night...) to collect the clefs, clambered the staircase, shot-gunned the beds (subject of hot debate and bribery throughout the weekend- mezzanine for the win!) and headed to the Carrefour across the road for evenings' essentials; pizza, Camembert, part-baked baguettes, rosé. 

The notion of a quiet night-in washed away with the contents of the first bottle and we headed out into the Toulousienne night! Needless to say, being situated parallel to a street lined with an array of clubs and bars served us well from dusk till dawn but haunted us during the (harsh, so harsh!) light of day- I swear by a bolognese crêpe to set anyone right. Without this turning into an entry about alcohol/cheese consumption and subsequent Miley Cyrus sing-a-longs at 4am (albeit, a good 50% of the weekend's contents) we did get up, get out and immerse ourselves in art, architecture, culture and cuisine. 

      

'La ville rose' from a car-park's eye-view / #YOTO

Place Wilson - perfect Lomogram opportunities

A hot topic of discussion throughout the weekend was the difference in architecture between Bordeaux and Toulouse. Bordelaise buildings are formed from limestone which lend a light, sandy colour to the city whereas Toulouse's architecture is a spectrum of warmer, pastel tones due to its use of smaller, red bricks (obviously, my professional opinion). Toulouse is known as 'La Ville Rose' because of this very notion. I liked it.... even through the misty grey of the weather (and the post-vino state). So, in the summer I've decided I'm coming back atcha, Toulouse, to see you in all of your rose radiance!

Cathédrale Saint-Étienne de Toulouse / pastel-palette architecture

So with map in hand, touristy-determination and a strong desire for cultural nourishment we decided to venture to Musée des Augustins. 

Here we were exposed to all matter of artistic mediums and mind-sets; from our favourite canine statues (completed by an installation of our rendition of 'I'm so happy! Oh so happy!'), to all number of nude statues, many ancient stone pillars, two grand halls exhibiting huile sur toile portraits and finally minuscule to massive leather-bound religious scriptures. 

It should be noted that the last provided more entertainment than nourishment- it was the only pay-for-entry installation in the immense museum (so, of course, it was subject to ridicule before we'd even step a foot into it...), it was surrounded by barriers and during our brief tour of the ancient holy literature (great use of colour and quill, it has to be said!) we were more-or-less chased out of the exhibition by the (ridiculous amount of) security swarming around the old books... So, we went back to hang out with our dogs.  

Sunday also saw a miraculous post-party recovery as we sauntered round Jardin des Plantes. It's a fantastic open space with plenty of greenery, a duck house and a number of interesting bridges- so, obviously everything you could want from a public park.  This place is definitely on the 'revisit when the weather is brighter' list. 

Bandstand / The notorious duck house (potential band name right there) / The benched-bridge; a perfect self-timing photo opportunity

So there we have it- two and a half days in Toulouse! And now that the 'Carte Jeune' train ticket has been purchased- there ain't no stopping the train-hopping!

Next stop: Perigueux, Round 2! Watch this space.

P.S. Happy Birthday, Mum! Love, always xx

'Surpris par l'hiver, nus comme les vers'

NEWS FLASH LOYAL BLOG READERS- Finally, I have got my blog-act together to reveal the makings of our secret Yarn Bombing dealings! 

Upon my return from Paris, Collective ‘E’ was prepared for the last phase in our Yarn Bombing escapade- The Grand Unveiling… With ladders, needles, wool and 4 weeks-worth of crocheted and decoratively pom-pom-ed ‘tree dresses’ at the ready we set off into the night.

It took us at least a couple of hours to sort and stitch each garment to their assigned tree. We had a few close calls with the general public- an extremely disorientated man who appeared to have lost his car and was subsequently trying to break into another one (I think both parties in this situation were wanting to be stealth...) and then a few youths passed us after falling out the local (from this experience I can only assume that hitting the hooch is a standard Sunday ritual in St. Macaire) and asked if we’d knitted them with our hands, to which the more bolshy of our clan retorted ‘no, with our feet!’, luckily the lads took it in good spirit and hollered ‘respect!’ instead of a fist/empty bottle/knitting-abuse.

Once all trees were glammed-up we slinked back chez nous, step-ladders underarm for a well-deserved thaw-inducing thésan (one has to suffer for their art) and we mused on the imminent responses from our fellow St. Macarians...

One of our team, Manou, works in the local shop so she got the main buzz- people asked all of the usual ‘How/Why/When?’ but the main question on everyone’s lips was ‘Who is Collective ‘E’?’. Oh the anonymity!

Abre-cadabra!

Our efforts also got us featured in the local paper- 

crochet celebrities, to say the least...

Remember- it's a secret.
Collective E representative, over and out.

'Le véritable voyage de découverte... avoir de nouveaux yeux'

Alongside attempting to learn some French and going to Ocean on a Friday night, during my last two years as a student at Nottingham I have worked part-time at a design agency. Last year, a French girl (hi Elisa!) came to work there for part of her Gap Year- not only could we swap knowledge of the others’ mother tongue but we got on, too (bonus!) 

Elisa was around during my British Council application; choices, interview, paper-work and The Waiting (oh-so necessary capitalisation). I had my heart set on Bordeaux and coincidentally Elisa lives in this very region, in a little village just outside of the town called Périgueux, in the Dordogne countryside.

It only made perfect sense to take the opportunity to go to visit her and see an entirely fresh side of the Bordelaise landscape! So, on the weekend of the 6^th – 8^th December, I hopped on a train and made my way to the East of the South-East. Unbeknown to me at the time, my ticket was taking me to a weekend full of fun, family and firsts.

So, Elisa met me on the train and we headed into the city of Périgueux together- we had takeaway pasta (get on this, England!) and walked around the Russian Christmas market. Our afternoon was topped off with a chocolat viennois (one of the best Year Abroad discoveries) and we headed back into the countryside; as we drove up hills, down tree-arched roads, amongst vast fields we sang along to French radio, it was like a scene out of a teenage coming-of-age film- all too perfect.

The next day we indulged in a gros-matin and ate both breakfast and lunch together as a family- I cannot express how happy I am to be living with Sylvette and that might be why I hadn’t realised until then how much I missed the family dynamic-  it is something special.

I had a vague idea of what the afternoon would consist of- pendant son temps libre, Elisa aime faire l’équitation- so I was quite prepared for what I thought was horse-riding (the boots, the helmet, the saddle, the horse), but I had no idea that it would make me feel the way I did! So, after another movie-like drive around the countryside, we arrived at a ranch on top of a hill. The view as we got out of the car was astounding- the day was gorgeous in itself but the sight of horses and deer in vast fields over-looking (yet more of) the autumnal landscape… It was going to be an afternoon of wonders.

We started by brushing the horses. For those who aren’t horse-savvy (I feel it is acceptable that I count myself a little horse-savvy now…), they like to roll in dirt in the winter to protect themselves from the cold, so it made for a good job. This was unbelievably calming- maybe it was the romantic setting with the autumn light dappling through the leaves (Shakespeare eat your heart out) but I really felt as if I had some kind of affinity with the horse- caring for it and trying to gain an equal trust, it was quite powerful.

 It was then time to take them to the yard… but obviously I had to ‘hop on’ first. It was high. Very high. Suddenly I became very aware that I was not (100%) in control of my own trajectory. But, with a few rounds of the yard, I was surprisingly at ease! It was then time to go, so I followed Elisa out from the yard… only to then to discover that ‘time to go’ meant ‘time to go and further explore the Dordogne countryside by horse-back’.  

I have never done something so terrifying, exhilarating and exciting of equal measure. The day was beautiful, the countryside was magical and the horse-riding was fantastic. I learnt something about myself that afternoon* and I can’t thank Elisa enough for opening my eyes to it!

*I learnt that I look damn fantastic on a horse.

I'm booking my tickets for Round 2, Elisa!

'Il est temps de vivre la vie que tu t'es imaginée'

Despite the copious amounts of paper work and endless power-points about how much money you will (but so painfully currently do not) have, daydreams of your impending Year Abroad, as a second year student, do not cease. A whole year dedicated to discovering the vast corners of a new country (or two or three, depending on how far that elusive Erasmus grant stretches!) and not only learning but living your language- how could it be anything but incroyable?

The days of Friday 29th November to Sunday 1st December alone made this second year dream (and so many Starbucks-latte-catch-up-afternoon-daydreams) come true. My best friend Ellie and I spent the weekend in Paris- truly, it was everything we had imagined and more.

What an eiffel...

Bright and early Saturday morning we walked to our nearest metro station and hopped on: destination Tour Eiffel. Of course, there was no other logical/more perfect monument to kickstart out Parisian dream- it more than lived up to expectation. The autumnal spectrum of the day seemed to be mirrored in the Tower's brassy finish- it was something extraordinary. Obviously, in true Ktenas-Fox style- equipped with cameras, phones and visionary outlooks- it took us the best part of an hour to make it from one side of the Eiffel to the next but who's complaining...

When we finally reached the other side we were greeted by the usual Parisian crowds (tourists, eiffel-keyring-shaking mecs and ladies who (probably) swore at us but in neither French, English nor Greek) but one guy with a clipboard caught my eye... Selling his 'artistic impressionist drawings' I was sold- a win-win situation if ever I heard one; either an absolute masterpiece (unlikely but tout est possible in Paris) or a truly hilarious souvenir. The final product speaks for itself. Despite her reservations (and deceptive facial expression) Ellie couldn't have thought of a better way to spend 10 Euros (negotiated down from thirty- did I mention I was Managing Director of my school's Young Enterprise team?) 

This not only started our Parisian journey but also led the way for us to be duped by many more salesmen in various forms along our path- start as you mean to go on and all that!

'Arc! Who goes there?

The only next step was to metro-it to Arc de Triomphe and waltz down the Champs Elysées...

Of course we (but mostly Ellie) had to stop at every postcard stand going- for anyone who has walked this very street, you may have noted it offers a postcard for every sentiment you truly/sometimes/potentially-could-one-day-in-the-future feel for every moment for the rest of your life... 

We eventually made it to the bottom, nonetheless, and hopped back on the metro to visit one of the worlds' largest art museums (the outside of it, at least- cue panorama shots, typical tourist poses and a man with both a Polaroid camera and a rather tactical ability to mispronounce prices)...

It was Louvre at first sight!

The sun was just peeping over the Louvre as we made our way out from the station (what an incredible underground tour it was, too- everything from SWATCH to Starbucks, absolutely nothing that you would want to unsee [a rather unfortunate staple to a trip to Paris with use of the metro!]) and it was stunning.

A few snaps upon the miniature platforms and two Polaroids later, we headed Seine-bound...

Seine and sensibility...

All we have to say about this part of our adventure is 'THE LIGHT, OH THE LIGHT!' It was gold, I tell you. Absolutely, undeniably gold! Light beams were streaming in from behind the buildings over the other side of the water, the leaves were dappled with sunlight and the Seine glittered. Even people most unlikely to be inclined to poetry would be moved to it! 

We followed the Seine until we crossed upon the Pont des Arts (aka. the padlock bridge), which provided a dream-like reality of it's very own; a perfect microcosm of Paris.

Little fish, big Pont...

 There were paintings, chalk drawings, an accordion, a brass band and choir, couples, families, friends all cocooned by a bridge glittering with padlocks adorning all languages and all types of love. 

Paris, nous t'aimons. 

Flowing downstream / Caught in the current / I carry you / You'll carry me

So we crossed the bridge and walked along it's right side all the way to Notre Dame- what a magnificent monument she is. This is my favourite place in all of Paris. Maybe it's the link to my childhood love of the related Disney movie (forever and always Esmérelda, sorry Mads) [apologies to Victor Hugo, too, I know you got in there before Walt and co. but what's a girl of 5 to do?] or maybe it's the fact that my favourite film Before Sunset had this spot as it's prime location, complete with famous Shakespeare and Co. book shop. 

Whatever the reason, this part of Paris feels nothing less than fairytale-like.  

Vin Chaud and Nutella waffle accompanied us from Notre Dame to bookshop- unfortunately no pictures can be taken inside but I am quite grateful in a way- we didn't see it through a lens and completely lived it! Definitely part of the charm- needless to say, this shop (more like BOOK-LADEN HAVEN) leaves a lasting impression on a lover of all things whimsical. 

"Metro, Boulot Sushi, Dodo"

...for what would any trip to Paris be without seeing the Eiffel glitter followed by an underground serenade and a Japanese feast?

Sacré cœur, sacré bleu...

Using my all too evident business acumen (what larks!) and a good ol' helping of first-time-hostel-booker cunning I managed to nab us a room [we'd recommend it! http://www.caulaincourt.com/] within 10 minutes walking distance from the Sacré Cœur - the last monument on our Parisian journey! We'd clocked a boulangerie on the corner of our hostel's square and bee-lined to it first thing on Sunday morning, then on our way up Montmartre a Starbucks glittered in all of it's consumerist delight (how we love it so!). Le dernier petit déjeuner- sorted. We weaved between artists and their canvases to our chosen Breakfast Bench (brilliant view of both church and city, and in perfect earshot of atmospheric melodies from a nearby harpist [oh Paris, you truly are so belle.])

The next few hours of our weekend were spent doing what we do best- picture-taking, memory-making and discussing life over lattes. 

PARIS, THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING...

Afterall, where you invest your love, you invest your life.

Happy 21st Birthday, my darling girl!

'Quand la vie te donne de la limonade, la boire...'

This blog entry's title has been inspired by a birthday card sent to me by two of my favourite people- Sam and Shauna-

Phil Dunphy, Modern Family
 [More quotes can be found at http://abc.go.com/shows/modern-family/lolz/philsosophy]

Okay, so I adapted it a little. But it provided very sound groundwork, as I'll explain...

I have been back in France for a couple of weeks now and, whilst I have been continuing my French adventure, I can't say it has been an easy fortnight. Don't get me wrong, I have done and seen some fantastic things, but in between there have been times of 'reflection'. Some of the other assistants and I have concluded that coming back after being home for the holidays/having family over to stay and then return to England has made it a little more difficult to not miss our English lives. I suppose the first term was brand new and shiny and so jam-packed that we didn't feel the real effects of living abroad, away from home comforts and family. Now the 'honey moon' period is over and a 'real-life' has begun.

This is where my title comes into play. I miss my English life at times (I never thought I would find myself having small reveries about slogging out the hours in Hallward and sitting through lectures, and yet I suppose these things are part of a much bigger picture, one that defines Home). But instead of focusing on what I miss I should acknowledge what I have right here, right now. 

I am learning a language I love. I have met and will meet incredible people. I have beautiful landscapes, architecture and cities to discover. I have a wonderful opportunity and I should take it.

In short, life hasn't given me lemons, it has given me lemonade and I should drink it.

To toast to that, here is a glimpse into my fortnight;

Saturday 8th November

Some of the Brits Abroad ladies decided that it was time for us to have a cultural excursion; to rummage within the roots of our Bordelaise experience; to dig to the depths of new discoveries, to plunge into the abyss of adventure...

Wine tasting, bien sûr

We hopped on the tour bus with a few groups of tourists and were taken to a couple of chateaus where we learned all about terroir (Global Context people, you'd have been lapping it up!) and the mechanics of wine-making. This provided perfect material for Sylvette's next soirée- Manou and Pascal, Anna and Jean-Claude (honestly) were very impressed by my knowledge of 'jambes'. I thought it would be too much for one evening if I recounted the tour-guide's poetry of how the experience of drinking wine mirrors an orchestral masterpiece. I think I need to go to the drawing board with that one.


Tuesday 12th November

This was a monumental day because I applied for my Senior Citizen Bus Pass (i.e I turned 21).

So full of hope and wonder!

Who would have thought it?!

After a full day of attempting to get French teenagers to learn English (I'm surprised I didn't age a few more years within those 9 hours), Sylvette treated me to a lovely meal at a restaurant in the village.

Two essentials to ma vie française ; wine and Sylvette

Soupe de potimarron avec chorizo / Côte de canard / Poire pochée au thé avec chocolat
... definite food envy of my birthday self

To top it all off, I received birthday love in the post from my people at home-

Rob Ryan (and Mum)- you've done it again
Moonpig, you're a keeper (you're not bad either Farrell/Puntan) 

And here's to the next year!


Wednesday 13th November

So every Wednesday, Sylvette and her friends congregate in our living room to carry out a secret Art Expo that they have been planning for a few weeks now: Yarn Bombing. I shall explain- in St Macaire there is a whole row of trees, 43 of them to be exact, in the middle of the village. The idea is that Sylvette and co. are knitting 43 'robes' (dresses), one for each of these trees. In effect, they are carrying out knitted graffiti. The whole plan is to be executed in complete secrecy/anonymity (so if you know anyone in St Macaire- you'd better keep schtum!... and also tell me who you know!) ready for the new full moon... I don't know what makes more sense- knitting dresses for trees or celebrating the new moon but this is my life right now so I shall not question it.

Luckily, my repetoire of skills includes knitting, sewing and placing pom-poms on patchwork blankets in a creative way so the ladies allowed me 'in' on this venture and so this is what our living looks like every Wednesday...

'Yarn Bombing' In Progress

I'll be sure to update you with the final stage- Tree Fashion Show- in a few weeks time!


Thursday 14th November

Due to my school hours and transportation availability (cheers, Geraud!) I am in school Monday afternoon, Tuesdays all day and Thursdays all day. So, my responsable (the less said the better) thought it would be a grand idea for me to take an hour of my 12 to hold an English Table for some of the kids that I don't get to teach.

But really I just think she wanted to make me sit in the canteen alone for an hour for the past two weeks. Not even my wonderfully enticing poster did the trick!

wonderfully enticing poster

So I am taking a new initiative.

I am going to go full out English on these kids- I'm thinking table cloth, I'm thinking flags, I'm thinking scones, I'm thinking the Queen. Every Thursday, between 12:05pm - 1:00pm, from now on shall now be known as British Patriotism 55 minutes. Catchy, huh? Definitely material for my next poster...

Wish me luck. Please.


Friday 15th November

Each Friday morning at 10:30am, Sylvette has a coffee date with Jean-Claude and Anna at Langon Market, so when I am not in Bordeaux with the Brits I like to tag along for un petit café noir, a cheeky chi-chi and a show-and-tell of the day's purchases; last week it was pig's brain and this week was some form of flat fish. Right there, on the coffee table. Now I'm not squeamish but it's hard to keep a hold of the chi-chi sometimes.

Langon Market - a world of wonders

I hope they just fancy a nice salad this weekend.


Saturday 16th November

As a remedy for my mild homesickness this week I have been trying to sort out my exercise. Lacking in a gym, St Macaire doesn't provide much by way of fitness options. So I decided to jog...

... Then I also decided to buy this at Langon's market last week.

What I bought. / Me looking at what I bought.

It was 8 Euros from a second-hand shop, what can I say?! Thought it would make a nice addition to the painting shed (or, what should now be known as, home gym) in our garden, and needless to say, it has provided great banter for Sylvette with her friends- 'aah la petite anglaise et ses trucs!' I'm here all week.

But yes, the jogging. It was the first sunny day within a very grey week in the region, so I took full advantage of it and took my camera in my fanny pack (I stand by this fashion choice).

Okay, more photography than jogging might have occurred this time but just look at it! Who could resist?

This weekend also saw Round 2 of Birthday Celebrations, so I sauntered off to Bordeaux to be with the Brits. We ate, we drank, we bantered and we danced... And it was brilliant.

Brits Abroad dealings

Thanks for a fantastic night, guys!

----------------------------------------

There you have it, my fortnight. The lesson that has been learnt is to appreciate the opportunities that you are given. Be present! So I shall make an effort to 'garde le morale' (our neighbour Marivonne told me to do so due to the impending bad weather, but I think it applies to everything!), and in doing so I shall remember why I am here and what I am capable of doing...

First step: Develop interest in life as you see it. 

Cue birthday present to self-

I'm going to drink the lemonade.

Until the next time, mes copains!

'Je voyais le ciel virer d'un rose orangé au bleu'

Well, my loyal Blog readers, since I last overwhelmed you with all things Year Abroad related I have made a vast advancement in my independence. I, Elizabeth Fox, travelled over two countries, entirely on my own (give or take the vast crowds of other passengers). Please, save the applause till the end. 

Luckily for us Language Assistants our Year Abroad is complete with frequent fortnightly respites- kudos to you, educational system!- so our very first holiday (La Toussaint, aka All Saints') was just around the corner before we could begin complaining about how tiring teaching is (it is, trust me. Even as a 12 hours per week Assistant the headaches set in around Week 3. New found respect for you, Mum). So, after a morning of lessons, I commenced this grand voyage on Thursday 18th October approx. 12:20pm CET from Langon due to arrive in Newark 11:30pm GMT. 

Along my journey I updated a lucky few with a compilation of 'pit-stop snaps'.

I present to you- 'Elizabeth Fox; Langon to Newark- The Great Trek';

Stage 1: un petit café noir- coach, Langon - Bordeaux / Stage 2: standard Orangina, 'jambon fromage' baguette combo - TGV, Bordeaux - Paris Montparnasse
Stage 3 : metro, Paris Montparnasse - Paris Gare du Nord / Stage 4: white Kinder Bueno, Coca-Cola - Eurostar, Paris - London
Stage 5: Pret fruit salad - Eastcoast, London King's Cross - Newark North Gate 

Nevertheless, I was glad to be home and before you ask, yes, I have been informed by various loved ones of my crazy transport choices.. and yet it remains unconfirmed as to whether I shall retrace these exact rail tracks or venture into the vast skies, so watch this space.

But, I was home and what more could I have asked for? On the other side of the Channel are some of my favourite people in all the world.

So, without further ado, and the help from Lomogram and my trusty companion Paint (never underestimate it) I present my 'Back Home' photo montage:

visiting beautiful Maddy at University / father and 'sons' outing to Lincoln / standard Mooch-ing with Sam and Shauna
peacockin' with my favourite Brazilian / Rob Ryan exhibition in London with my wonderful Eleftheria / my bedroom (and personal gallery) / Forum antics with the girls
seeking out the classic family photos / Halloween with my girl, cue fake blood and cut up bed sheets / the undeniably talented and amazing Josie

Thank you all so much, it was magical- let's get planning for Christmas, please! 

Now, I am back in my room in St. Macaire and my life has resumed to its current reality.

Tout Va Bien if you ask me.