Not So Successful At Sidestepping The Strike

(Originally written 12 April 2010, 10:17pm; I wrote down my blog posts for part of the time when I was in Carnac, but couldn't post them since I didn't have internet.)

Today I came to Carnac, to begin the second part of my vacation… and that sounds a lot easier than it ended up being.

I got up and finished packing, ate breakfast, and headed over to the train station in the morning. My train was supposed to leave at 11:49am to take me to Le Mans, where I had my connection which would take me to Auray (and from there they have a bus which goes around to all the various towns in the area that aren’t served by the trains). Unfortunately, when I got to the train station, my train wasn’t listed anywhere. At all. So I went up to Information to ask them, and there was already a line of about ten people. I quickly found out that I wasn’t the only one wondering what to do since the train didn’t exist. Apparently it was one of the ones cancelled because of the train strike. Instead, they gave me a schedule of transfers and TGVs that basically meant I went back and forth a lot and would finally get to Auray three hours later than I had planned, but at least I would get there.

So I got on the TGV going to Paris Montparnasse, which was leaving at 12:02pm. The thing about the way they transfer people to other trains, though, is that they don’t give you a seat or print you a new ticket unless you pay to buy a new ticket. You’re not technically guaranteed a seat, unless there are open spots. I was fortunate enough that the spot I picked happened to stay empty the whole trip, but a lot of people around me where asked to move by the actual ticket-holders, and the train was so crowded there were people standing in the entryway by the doors because they didn’t have seats.

About an hour later, I got into Paris. Fortunately I didn’t have to change stations to catch my connection, since I was going right back out west. I had about forty-five minutes, so I bought a sandwich and a drink. Then I was off on another TGV heading to Rennes. This time, I was not so fortunate in seating; in the last few minutes before the train was about to leave, a guy showed up with his two sons, and they were supposed to have the spot that I had just randomly picked. Another guy had set my suitcase in the overhead area, so I just left it there and went to stand by the doorway. There are little fold-down seats there, so I was able to sit for the two-hour ride to Rennes, but that didn’t mean it was comfortable. When we got to the station, I had the guy hand me down my suitcase (the problem for me with putting things up there is that later I can’t reach them without climbing on the seats. >.>) and I was the first off the train, heading to find my last connecting train.

The last train was heading towards Quimper, with a stop at Auray along the way. Because they had changed my ticket, I had a sticker on it that stated which trains I was allowed to go on, and I was also technically allowed to sit in 1^st class. On the other trains it had seemed like more of a hassle than it was worth, but on the way to Auray the 1^st class compartment was the first one I saw, so I figured why not? It wasn’t really all that amazing, to be fair; the seat was slightly larger, and that was pretty much it. But no-one came wanting my seat (I don’t think that train even had assigned seating), so I was comfortable on my way to little Auray.

When I finally got there, I realized that Auray really is little. It was more like the little side-of-the-road train stations of Chenonceau and Amboise than anything. I went over to information, since although I knew there was a bus, I had no idea where to go or when it would come. I was half afraid it would be a limited-time deal, and I would’ve missed it. But fortunately the next bus was coming about a half hour after I got there, and the bus stop was just outside the train station. I went out to look at the map and schedule, and try to get some sense of it myself, with little success. Another guy came up and was also looking at the schedule; we shared our confusion, and I found out that he was going to a little town just past Carnac, so wanted the same bus that I did. He double-checked with the woman, and she confirmed the departure time, so we waited.

There was actually quite a crowd collected by the time the bus came; I had a hard time fitting my suitcase in the compartment under the bus. I also had no idea where I was supposed to get off, and wasn’t sure whether she would announce it, or how it worked. I ended up being confused, but the guy from before was sitting near me and I asked him, and then had to double check with the driver because she stopped at Carnac Plage (the beach part of the town) where I wanted Carnac Ville (the slightly more inland half of the town, which is closer to the standing stones). I successfully got off the bus at Carnac Ville, got my suitcase, and looked around for a map, since I had no real idea how to get from there to my hotel. It all worked out though, because there was one right nearby, and after scrutinizing it for a while and figuring out what direction to go in- I turned around and saw that my hotel was just across the street from the bus stop anyway. :P

I’m staying at l’Hôtel des Alignements, which basically means the Hotel of the Standing Stones. When I walked in, finally, between 7 and 8 in the afternoon (I had meant to be there by 4ish), the woman who seems to run the hotel was in the restaurant part. But she quickly came over, gave me my key, and I headed upstairs. My room is really big, again; the bed, especially, is nice. The bathroom has some kind of weird thing; I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a bidet or if it’s for washing sand or whatever off your feet after going to the beach… I feel like I should probably avoid using it for either, just in case. The nicest thing, probably, is that I have a little balcony in the back looking out over the houses and the town.

After settling in a bit, I went out to wander the town a little and possibly find a restaurant. I quickly discovered, however, that Carnac apparently closes on Monday evenings, similar to Bruges. *sigh* I only looked around a little before I decided that it would just be easier to go back to the hotel restaurant and have dinner there. The woman who runs it appears to have a big soft spot for families; there were two families with kids, and she was joking and talking with them. I think they’ve been here for a bit, since she knew their names and what they’d been up to all day (the beach; to be fair, the sunburns would’ve probably given that away anyway). The food itself was fantastic; I had crab farsi for my entrée, which was served in the crab’s shell with a little salad. My main dish was a piece of some kind of white fish, with little (potato?) cakes, and this amazingly delicious buttery sauce. Then dessert was a pear tart, with a delicious creamy sauce around it, too. I had it all with a glass of rosé wine, which was very pleasant.

The one downside to this hotel so far is that I don’t have any internet, so I’m typing this up in Word so that I have it recorded and can transfer it over when I find an internet café or figure out a way to get my computer to one of the bars that apparently have internet. Oh, well; I’m sleepy from the wine and good food anyway, so I’ll probably go to bed early, wake up early, and tomorrow is the menhirs (standing stones)!

Sidestepping the Strike!

On Friday morning I didn't really have time to go and see anything, so I just took my time packing all my goodies and stuff and getting ready to leave. I ate breakfast for the last time, then gathered my things and headed off to the train station. I think there had to have been some kind of miscommunication when the guy at Information told me how to get to the hotel in the first place, because I just went across two streets, and followed one street all the way down to the station; it wasn't difficult at all. I got there early, so I ended up sitting on the platform for a while.

I had been slightly worried, because I got an email that morning saying that there was a train strike in France, and so there were possible problems with the trains. When my train going to Lille didn't show up until ten minutes or so before it was scheduled to leave, I was really starting to wonder. I actually think that train was just a Belgian one, however, since all of the announcements were in Dutch, and I didn't understand a word.

When I finally got to Lille, I had a two-hour wait until my train to Paris, so I got myself a sandwich for lunch and hung out in the station. The train to Paris was a TGV, which was fun. I like riding in them, because you can tell that you're going really fast and it's just fun. Once in Paris Nord, I again had to cross the city to get to the other train station. The Métro has apparently also been undergoing strikes, so there were certain lines (especially for the RER) that were closed, and about one train in five wasn't running. The one thing that was annoying was that the automatic ticket machines don't accept paper money; only bank cards with chips inside or change. When I discovered that, I had to find the window and buy one with the bills I had. The train was also very crowded; I'm sure because of the strikes.

When I got to Paris Montparnasse, the station that serves Tours and the western area, I had another wait of about an hour before I was able to get on my train. It was very crowded, and I'm sure some of the people were on there because their other trains had been canceled or delayed because of the strikes. There was a guy in my seat, who I had to ask to move, and then the guy sitting next to me slept the whole way. I literally think he went unconscious the second we started moving. Again, it was a TGV, so I got some reading done and watched the scenery for the hour or so it took to get to Tours. I ended up getting home even before the family had started dinner, so all I had to do was join them.

There were two new people: Anika, a friend of the family who is Swedish but teaches French and lives in France now; and Tess, who is a new student from Korea, and is living in Luzé's room since Luzé left. All of the other Concordia students were off traveling still, so the house was very quiet, which was nice. I unpacked some, got myself more organised, and settled back into the house for the weekend.

Hallie In Bruges

I had to use this title, again, obviously, because it's not like the joke with the movie is ever going to get old. >.>

Today, I woke up, showered, dressed, and went down to eat breakfast in the hotel (I had another croissant with butter and honey, and some blackcurrant applesauce). Then I went back up to pack all of my stuff, since I had to check out. I left my luggage with the hotel, and went out to explore for my last few hours in Chartres.

The second I stepped out the door, I realised that the cathedral bells were ringing, in a just constant cacophony. They rang for at least a full half hour; from 10:30 to 11:00, calling all the people to Easter Mass. It was kind of bizarre to walk through the streets and see everyone heading in the same direction, but mostly just because I wasn't going. I wandered around and took pictures of all of the churches; it did seem like all of them had people attending, so the cathedral doesn't get everyone. I had a lot of fun on my walk; I went through little side streets and less-commercialised parts of the town. I also got to meet the first and second friendly cats I've ever met in France! I swear all the cats (in Tours, at least) are nervy and scared all the time. But I met a white-and-gray cat that let me pet him and seemed really nice, and then he wandered off and I followed after. I found him again, cornered by another gray cat, and I chilled them down. Once he'd wandered off again, I introduced myself to the gray cat, who turned out to be very nice too.

I also wandered along the river Eure for a while, which is the one that passes through part of the town. Around noon, when the church services let out, the bells started ringing again and sounded for another ten minutes. It was around then that I decided I should find somewhere to eat lunch. I went into one place that told me they were full, and most of the others were all closed. Usually things are closed on Sundays in France, and this was Easter on top of that, so it wasn't really surprising, but I was starting to get worried. Then I found an awesome little hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant, kind of hidden away on a side street. I'd actually seen them yesterday and thought about going, so I was glad to get the chance.

There were two other families there when I went in, which was a little awkward for me, being alone. The place appeared to be run by an Indian man, and a younger man who was probably his son. They were very welcoming, and I ordered the established menu. My entrée was lamb kebabs, and came with a piece of nan and three different sauces: mint, sweet banana something, and something else that was really spicy. I really liked the mint. Then my main dish was shrimp curry with basmati rice. For dessert, I got two little balls of mango sorbet, and then I finished the whole thing with a cup of tea with milk. My favourite parts were the little details; the dishes all had lotuses and red-and-gold elephants painted on them, and they brought out the bill in a little box that looked like it should be used for jewelry. But the food was really good, and the two men were friendly.

After I ate, I wandered back through town and sat for a bit in front of the cathedral, just enjoying my day. Then I went back to the hotel, got my luggage, and went over to the train station. I was about an hour early, but that was okay; the train came just as it was starting to rain, so I was able to get a good seat and get out of the weather. I discovered that the train had electrical outlets, so I was able to plug in my computer and put my pictures on it, getting them off the camera! I was kind of paranoid about having it out, though, so I put it away when we left. It was also kind of funny; I realised I'd forgotten to compost my ticket in the station, so I spent a decent amount of the trip mentally practicing my "I'm a stupid girl American; what's composting? *innocent stare*" routine. Funnily enough, though, there weren't any control people on the train; probably because of Easter. I got to Paris just fine (and apparently went through the town where Versailles is on the way), and got off at Gard Montparnasse. I've been through there before, on my way to London, so I went down to the Métro to go to Gare du Nord. I bought my ticket from the automatic machine, since I recognised the lady at the booth as being the same one from last time, and she was mean. XP

The trip to the other Gare was uneventful. When I got there I had about an hour to waste until my train was supposed to be there. I had thought about leaving my luggage somewhere and wandering in Paris for a bit, but I found out that they basically charge you for two days no matter how long you leave your stuff, and that didn't seem worth it. So I went back into the station and tried to find somewhere to sit. There weren't many places; I ended up on the back end of a round metal pole thing that I think was intended to stop trains if they come in too quickly, but at least it was a place to sit. There was a girl sitting near me reading "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand; I was intrigued, so I started talking to her. Turns out her name was Callie, she was from Spokane, Washington, and she was studying in Amsterdam! We had a pleasant little conversation while we were waiting, since our trains were leaving at the same time, and then got on our separate cars.

I was lucky enough to have no-one sitting next to me on the train, so I spread out a little and was very comfortable. It was kind of funny; they did all announcements in Flemish, then French, then German, then finally English. The first time I heard it I thought the Flemish was English and was wondering why I didn't actually understand any of what they were saying; I ended up getting my information from the French, since it was just easier, lol. They apparently have also started providing WiFi internet on the trains, which I was pretty excited about, so I plugged in my computer, turned it on, and went and bought internet for the whole trip. It wasn't long before I realised the catch; something about the way the train was going meant that the electricity would cut out every few minutes, which, of course, killed my poor battery-less computer and meant I had to restart every time. I was starting to get pretty damn frustrated with it by the time we got to Brussels; so, of course, at that point they turned off the electricity completely. *sigh* Bizarrely, though, the entire way from Brussels to Bruges the electricity behaved itself perfectly. I dunno what was up.

When I got into Bruges it was already about 9pm. I found the train information desk, and asked the man there (in English; I don't know any Flemish...) how to find the street where my hotel was. He gave me a map, and told me to go out, turn left, and go through the park. Now, I was a little worried about going through a park in a foreign city in the dark, so I kind of went around it instead, and quickly discovered I was on the wrong street. *facepalm* I eventually worked my way through to find the right street, but I came out in the middle of it, and didn't know which direction to go for the hotel. I went all the way down to one end, feeling ridiculous carrying all my luggage in one of the big shopping/restaurant districts, and finally had to go into one of the other hotels and ask. The lady there must've sensed that I was a little frazzled; she seemed a little put out that I wasn't coming to her hotel, but pointed out which direction to go. Eventually I found the Hotel/Restaurant t'Putje, and went in. It was again a little awkward, since I evidently went in the entrance for the Restaurant and not the bit where the concierge's desk is. One of the waiters pointed me in the right direction, and *finally* I managed to check in.

The lady at the desk was very sweet, though; she said that they'd been expecting me, and were starting to wonder if I was coming at all. I explained that I'd gotten lost, and how, and she agreed that it was a shame. She checked me in, and took me to my room. The Hotel apparently has parts in two different buildings; the one with the restaurant, check-in, and breakfast room, and the other with the actual rooms. She was kind enough to explain how to pronounce "Putje," which apparently means a "little well". I thought it was cute, but I'm partial to wells. I'm in Room 40, which is conveniently on the first floor. The room itself is huge; with the bathroom, it's larger than my dorm rooms at Concordia. It's got a huge bed made from two singles pushed together (with intimidating white bed linens), a minibar/refrigerator and safe, two closets with full-length mirrors, and free WiFi (although I had to call to get the code). The bathroom has a full bath, toilet, and sink, and a heater/fan that's apparently on a motion sensor and makes the whole room warm as summer. Along with the regular shampoo and shower cap, they also gave me a shoe-shining towel, a hairdryer, and two tall glass glasses, presumably for use with the beverages in the minibar. I also have enough towels to last a week; I really hope they don't change all of them every day; that would be a huge waste.

I spent a little time getting settled and chilling out from my evenings travails, and enjoying using the internet without sporadic electricity shorts. I realised at around 20 minutes to 11pm that I hadn't eaten, and didn't feel like going out and trying to find a restaurant with such a narrow window left, so I did something I've never done before: I ordered room service! Since the hotel is associated with a restaurant, they brought me some pretty fancy lasagna and a basket with, like, six big slices of bread. With that and one of the orange juices from the minibar, I ended up probably saving money and never had to leave my room. I was pretty pleased.

Anyway, it's late. Tomorrow I'm probably going to get myself a proper map and start to get oriented in Bruges. I've got five whole days to see the sights, so I'm not in too much of a rush. :)

Once Again Out and About

So, I haven't updated in ages, mostly because I haven't been doing too much that's obviously exciting. I don't really go out much anymore (with just the girls and their boyfriends, it's started to pall...), but I have been hanging out with Giovanni, the guy from my Greek class, and his friends. It's fun, and he's starting to teach me some guitar! I've learned the chords C, D, E, F, G, A, A minor, and B7, and I can do a simple chord progression. It's really not much, but I've never really worked on learning, so it's fun. I got sick, I've been getting better, and I've had classes, obviously. This week was the last week of class, and then we have two weeks of break before Finals, and then my family is coming to visit me here and we're going to have a blast before I go home! It's approaching incredibly quickly; I'm excited to go back, but I'm really feeling good about being here too.

Anyway, for our two weeks of vacation I'm going to Chartres, Bruges, and eventually Carnac. It's not overly adventurous, but I ended up doing it all myself, so I feel like it's very much *my* trip. This morning, I didn't go to our last Écrit/Orale class because I had to catch the train to bring me here to Chartres. Chartres is famous for having one of the most beautiful Gothic cathedrals in existence, and not much else. It's a really small town, with a couple other sites peppered around to make staying here for a day or three more feasible. The Chartres cathedral is also well-known for having a huge stone labyrinth paved into the floor of the nave, which was my personal reason for coming. They clear the chairs away on Fridays so that people can walk the labyrinth, so I was hoping it would work out. Unfortunately it's also Good Friday this weekend, which I hadn't thought about, but I'll get to that.

I took the train from Tours to Le Mans this morning and transferred trains there to come to Chartres. I had bought a sandwich and had some juice for my lunch while I was on the train; it ended up actually being surprisingly crowded. I also had my ticket checked on both trains, which almost never happens usually. When I got to Chartres, the first thing was to find my hotel. I'd specifically picked one that was close to the train station, and also not far from the cathedral. So close, in fact, that I walked out of the station and barely started down the road in front of it when I saw the hotel on my right. It's called the Hôtel Jehan de Beauce, which is the name of the street. Their main attribute is their location. I checked in and everything (my first time doing all this on my own! I was excited!) and went up to my room. It's really small, but that fits me pretty perfectly. I dropped off my luggage and took my purse and my camera and went to find the cathedral. The hotel gave me a guidebook/map, so I had some idea of where I was going.

Which turned out to be a moot point anyway, since I walked down the street and saw the cathedral instantly. It really dominates the town; you can see it from everywhere. I easily made my way over there; like I said, Chartres is *really* small. When I went in the cathedral itself, they were in the middle of Good Friday services. This was less intimidating than it could've been; they were walking around the nave, stopping at various points and praying. One woman gave me a paper that had the various stopping points and the basic prayer for each one, so I ended up just following and watching the procession. It was interesting in that I was probably the youngest person there by a couple decades; there were maybe four or five kids in the whole group, but I didn't see them until later. Each time they stopped represented a specific part of the crucifixion of Jesus; the three times he fell on his way to the mountain, the time a woman wiped the sweat away from his face, when he actually died, when they took his body down from the cross, those kinds of things. I did surprise myself with how much I was able to follow what the priests were saying; and I did pick out the Lord's Prayer (obviously it was all in French). After the procession, they gathered around the altar for more prayer, and I walked around to see the church itself. I took a lot of pictures of the choir screen, which was incredibly beautifully carved. It was also interesting because the carvings in the shrines were all covered with purple cloths, presumably out of reverence for the day. I was very disappointed in my timing, however; because it's Good Friday, they had all of the chairs out in the nave, covering the labyrinth, so I didn't get to walk it. I still took a few pictures, but I was sad.

I went outside again, and walked around the cathedral, taking pictures of the architecture and the area. It was already late enough that everything would've been closed, so I just wandered around the town and looked at things. It was sunny and beautiful, and just a really pleasant walk. When I headed back towards the hotel, it was getting cloudy and started to rain, so I was glad I'd brought my umbrella. I spent a while relaxing and settling into the hotel room a bit, while I was waiting for the restaurants to open for dinner (most places in France don't serve dinner until 7:30pm at the absolute earliest).

There's a restaurant literally just next door to my hotel that a lot of people recommended when I was looking into visiting Chartres, so I figured I'd try it. It's called "017," and while it's not exactly formal or über-fancy, it is definitely a more upscale place. I went in about 8:20, and was only the second person there. I got a glass of rosé wine and a carafe of water to make it last, and then they gave me ample time to look over the menu. The thing about French waiters is that they expect you to take your time, and to relax and converse with people when you go out to eat. The fact that I was by myself made that a little superfluous, but I went ahead and glanced through my little map guide and started planning what I'm going to do tomorrow. Eventually a different waiter came over. He turned out to be fun; when he caught my accent, he said "Oh, you speak English!" and went to go and get the other waiter (who, I found out when she was talking to a British couple that came in later, does speak limited English). I quickly assured him that no, I spoke French too! It was funny.

I got seafood in a curry sauce for my entrée; it was really good, flavourful but not too spicy, with mussels and calamari and all the kinds of ocean creatures I love to eat. For the main dish I basically just picked something that had a Provençal sauce, and it turned out to be a white fish with pasta. It was pretty good; not heart-stopping, but decent. I did decide over the course of my meal that I wouldn't mind making a habit of having a glass of wine with dinner; it was a really good rosé (and this is coming from me, whose palate is so untrained that almost all wine tastes too strong). The fantastic thing, however, was the dessert. Everything was plated very prettily (with random pine sprigs in, for some reason), but my fondant au chocolat was beautiful. I posted a picture on facebook, but it was basically a little chocolate cake with a gooey chocolate center and a little ball of ice cream on top, and there was a little pitcher dish full of cream to pour over it. I practically swooned, it was so delicious. It pretty much wouldn't have mattered at that point if the rest of the dinner had been gross, I was so enamoured with the fondant. When I'd finished, the waiter came to take the plate and caught me nabbing one last taste with my finger, and I assured him that it was perfect. When I had gotten the check and was about to leave, he shook my hand and welcomed me back again.

Then I came back to my room and stretched out on the bed, contentedly full, fat, and purring. I uploaded pics to facebook and wanted to write this before I forgot, but now I'm going to go to bed. I'm getting up early to see things tomorrow! :)

Train Fail

Saturday was my last day in London, so I got up early so that I could experience the one thing I had missed so far: Westminster Abbey. I managed to get down to the Westminster Tube station without any problems and got my ticket to go inside the Abbey. They don't allow photography, but I got an audio guide and wandered around (I was very surprised to hear Jeremy Irons introduce himself as the voice of the audio guide, but it was also pretty awesome). I also went up into the Shrine of King Edward the Confessor. It's not open to general tourism, but they let small groups inside for prayer sessions led by one of the priests. I mostly just wanted to see the shrine, so I pretended. The Abbey itself was beautiful, of course. My favourite part was the Poet's Corner, where they have tombs and memorials to various writers (including Shakespeare, Lewis Carrol, Robert Browning, and a dozen others, including my favourite: W.H. Auden). I did sneak a couple pictures (like one of Edmond Halley's memorial) before I left, and wound my way out through the ever-present souvenir shop. I figured I had left with just enough time to get back to Katie's house, finish throwing my stuff together, and come back in to the train station.

Unfortunately, it didn't prove to be that easy. When I got back to Totteridge & Whetstone, the only trains arriving were going on the wrong track (via Charing Cross rather than via Bank, which was what I needed). Without any other real choice, I got on the train anyway, and figured I'd get off and switch trains at some point. Unfortunately, no good opportunity presented itself until I got to Euston station, which is huge, and I switched to the Victoria line to get to King's Cross/St. Pancras. By the time I got there, I had basically figured that I would be late, but I ran through the station anyway, hoping. I managed to get there right as the train was departing, and felt like I was going to cry from running through stations, freaking out, and having it confirmed that my train had, indeed, already left.

The people at the Eurostar were fantastic, however. They took pity on me, and the first guy I talked to wrote on my ticket that I had showed up about five minutes earlier, to give me a little more leeway, and sent me to the ticket office. The guy there did some checking around and managed to get me a seat on the next train, when I explained that I hadn't known when I was supposed to be there and had been late. I kind of suspect that he thought I was younger than I am, judging from the way he spoke to me, but I wasn't about to complain. He told me that since I would miss my connection in Paris, I would have to talk to the SNCF people directly and try to get on the last train of the night. But to help me more, he put a "magic stamp" (his words) on the ticket that basically said that I missed my connection because of another train, not through my own fault. That wasn't technically true, but he gave me the stamp anyway to be nice.

Going through security went fairly quickly, and I got my second train-travel passport stamp. When I got to the Eurostar lobby, the train for Lille was boarding, so I sat down to wait. It was then that I experienced the most bizarre thing: while I was sitting there, they were reading announcements in both French and English. And when I heard the French, a huge wave of relief washed over me, and I felt almost weak. I hadn't realised until that point just how draining it was to constantly listen to British English. As much as I love the language and watch the BBC and was looking forward to London, the entire time I was there I felt somewhat distanced. In France, my accent might show me to be a foreigner, but I still feel included in the culture and language and am still accepted so long as I try to speak French. But in England, although American English was certainly suitable for communication, I still felt like and proved myself to be an outsider every time I opened my mouth.

Maybe it was just the exhaustion from running and stressing and the relief of being on a train - any train! - back to France, but my strange euphoria just increased every time I heard French, spoke French, and even when I used Euros to buy myself a simple dinner on the train. (The Eurostar has two "dining" cars; I got a BLT sandwich, a bag of chips, and an Orangina.) The seat next to me was empty, so I put up the arm rest and curled up across both seats to sleep for a good chunk of the trip, and also started organising my receipts and figuring out just how much my London adventure had cost me.

We got to the Paris Nord train station at the exact time the train I was supposed to take was leaving from Paris Austerlitz, so there was no hope of me catching it. So I took my time getting to the Métro and crossing Paris. I found myself loving almost everything I encountered: the ever-so-distinctive smell of Paris, the fact that the people I saw ignored me, that the Métro itself was dirty and the cars were old, the brief glimpse I saw of the Eiffel Tower all lit up for the night, and the little theme song that plays on constant loop in every SNCF train station. When I found the platforms at Austerlitz I went and talked to the man in the information booth. Without hardly looking at me he told me that it would be perfectly fine if I took the last train to Tours; I think the fact that I mentioned the stamp might have had something to do with it! I settled in on one of the seats in the station and prepared to wait the three hours until 10pm, when the train would leave. Fortunately, I had a book.

When the platform for the train was finally displayed on the board, I made my way over there. Unlike almost every other time I've taken the train in France, they had set up barriers and were actually checking people's tickets before they let them go on the train. The man glanced at my ticket, seeming confused for a moment, but when I explained briefly he nodded and let me through. By this point I was cold, exhausted, and wanting nothing more than a bed I could call mine. I kept myself awake by reading on the way to Tours, and finally arrived sometime between 12:30 and 1am. Then I dragged myself and my luggage back to the house, still kind of euphorically pleased by things as simple as French drivers' respect for pedestrians and the fact that I knew where I was going without thinking. I managed to find my keys after a panicked moment of not remembering where I'd put them, and unpacked just enough to be comfortable before I snuggled into my bed.

It's not quite home, but for that night, it was close enough.

Rain, Ravens, and A Round Theatre

This morning, I was planning on getting up very early and heading out so that I could be at the Tower of London right around when they opened. That... didn't so much happen. Grant was debating coming with me; his Mini U.N. stuff starts today, so he didn't know if he'd be busy; but he decided to sleep in instead. When I stepped outside, however, it was already starting to rain. I was very glad today that I had my umbrella to hand.

The Tube trip down to the Tower Hill stop also took a lot longer than I was hoping. They were having problems with various lines; there had been signaling problems on the Central line, and so Circle and District (the only two that service Tower Hill) were both suffering severe delays and I had a heck of a time figuring it out. Finally I got there, just after 10. Walking over to the Tower itself was like swimming with all the rain, so once I had bought my ticket I decided to eat something and dry out a bit before going into the Tower itself. There's a company I keep seeing around London called "Eat.", and they had a store in the little shopping complex just outside the Tower. I got a chicken, tomato, and pesto sandwich, which was really good. There were green lettuce-y type leaves and pine nuts and it was very well done. Then I went over and got in line to go in. The thing about being in London right now, though, is that everyone is on vacation from school, not just me. The entire place was swarming with people.

I went inside, and started with the walkway and the walls. I basically went in and out of several towers along the outside walls, and took lots of pictures. One tower had a replica of the king's bed (which made me feel right at home, after Chenonceau and Amboise!), one had various English monarch's crowns (with all the jewels removed, or with paste replicas), one had examples of weaponry the Tower Guards would've used and talked a little about when the peasants revolted and stormed the Tower (remarkably, the only time it had ever been breached). When I descended down into the inner courtyard, the first place I went was the House of Jewels, where the real Crown Jewels of England are kept. It was very tightly secured (as you can imagine). They don't allow photographs inside, but it was absolutely marvelous. Everything was sumptuous and brilliant (literally) and beautiful. I don't think I've even imagined of so many gems in one place at the same time. After I left there, I wandered around some more. I saw the place where Anne Bolyn and many others were beheaded. I saw the various graffiti on the walls where people had been kept prisoner. I had to search around a bit, but I eventually found the torture exhibit (ironically not in the Bloody Tower), which turned out to just be a Scavenger's Daughter, a Rack, and a set of Manacles. It was still pretty cool, though, and considering how many kids were around, I thought it was really tastefully done.

The thing that I got really excited about, though, and the thing I was not leaving the Tower without seeing, were the ravens. It is said that if the Tower Ravens ever leave the Tower, then England will fall. So, they keep the requisite six around, plus a seventh, just in case. They do clip the birds' wings, though, so there's no real chance of them just flying away. They also have a little caged enclosure where three of them were hanging out. I saw one sitting on a wall first, quite a bit away from the cages. He was watching people go by and talking to them and making noises and I took a bunch of pictures. Then I went over by the cages, where there were three enclosed and three more just walking around outside. I took a bunch more pictures; ravens are really very photogenic birds. When I counted later, I ended up with 25 pictures of just those seven birds.

I ended up spending over three hours in the Tower of London, and enjoyed every minute. Eventually, though, I did manage to see it all, and so I headed back to the Tube. It was raining really hard by then, and all the walking around meant that my feet and the bottoms of my pants were getting really wet. I had some more problems with the Tube when I tried to get to Mansion House, which the internet had told me was about a ten minute walk from Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. I found Mansion House alright, but then had more problems trying to figure out how to get to the Globe itself. There was construction in the middle of the roads, so I walked up and down and around and crossed the streets where there were no lights (a very dangerous thing in London). Every once in a while I came across a map that pointed the way to the river, and eventually I got to the bank.

From the bank, I could actually see the Globe, finally; and I could see the footbridge that would let me get to it. At that point, it was just a matter of getting to the bridge and crossing. I also passed St. Paul's Cathedral, which is on the opposite side of Millennium Bridge from the Globe, and I decided I'd have to take pictures after.

The Globe itself was pretty cool; I didn't know much about the actual building, so I learned a lot. I bought my ticket and just glanced briefly at the exhibits before my tour started. The guy took us inside the theatre itself, sat us in the seats, and talked to us for a while. I really got the impression from him that the only way to fully experience the Globe is to see a performance there. I was kind of sad, since by the time they're doing shows I'll be going back home, so even if I wanted to come back I wouldn't be able to. He told us that the Globe itself is a reconstruction, not built even on the exact site of the old one (which is now apparently covered by a pub). It's an educated guess of what the building would've looked like, based on what we know of the two sister theatres, the Rose and the Swan. It is also the third Globe; the first one was burned down in a fire during a performance, when they shot off a cannon (sans cannonball) and a piece of cloth from the explosion set the thatched roof on fire. Fortunately, no-one was hurt, and the worst casualty was a bottle of beer that a man used to douse his pants when they had caught on fire. It was rebuilt, and still very successful, until the Puritans took over London and it was shut down by Parliament. For all that it is mostly educated guesswork, they took great pains to make it as true to the spirit of the original as possible. It is the first fully wooden building with a thatched roof since the Great Fire of London, and was made using techniques and materials from Shakespeare's time. After the tour, I wandered through some more and saw the exhibits, which included live demonstrations of woodworking, stage combat, and Elizabethan costuming.

When I left the Globe, I went back across the Millennium Bridge to St. Paul's Cathedral. I didn't go inside, mostly because I didn't want to spend the money, but I did take a lot of pictures of the outside and some cool stuff around it. Then I realised that I didn't actually have pictures of Wyndham's Theatre, where I'd seen "An Inspector Calls," so I went back there, took the pictures, and headed home. It was about then (well on to 4 or 5 pm) that I realised I hadn't eaten all day apart from the sandwich at the Tower. So when I got to Totteridge and Whetstone (the Tube station closest to Katie's house) I decided to go to a grocery store and buy some dinner. I also stopped by a flower stall and got them a bunch of tulips as a thank-you for letting me stay this week.

When I left the grocery store, however, the fairly constant rain had turned into a veritable downpour. I fought my way through the flood to get back, and was very happy to change my wet shoes, socks, and pants and warm up again. Katie and Allan were there, so I talked with them for a while and then they went to dinner and I stayed and ate the one I had just bought. While they were gone, Grant called. He had accidentally left his passport in their scanner when he made copies for his hostel stay, and needed to come back out to grab it. Right when he got out here, Katie and Allan returned as well, so we talked for a while.

The rest of my evening has been spent relaxing and catching up on the internet, which I have not really had time to check the past couple of days. Now, I am off to bed once more. Tomorrow: Westminster, Buckingham Palace, and hopefully the Changing of the Guard!

European Public Transit Has Earned My Love Forever

Today, I finally started my adventure in London! Yesterday was spent in a rush of finalising plans, information, tickets, packing, etc, and then this morning Grant and I woke up bright and early so that we could leave the house by 6:30am. We had to walk down to the Gare (the train station), and our train was leaving at 7:06am.

We ended up being about 15 minutes early, and found the train easily enough. When we got on and sat down at first, though, the lights were out in the car. It was kind of creepy and weird, so Grant checked it out and we moved down to a different car. That one had little eight-seat compartments rather than the usual seats, so the two of us took a car together, put up the arm rests, and mostly slept on our way to Orléans. It was kind of funny; at one point when we were both almost asleep and the train was going decently fast, a TVG passed us going the opposite direction and it sounded like a dragon howling past right by our heads! Grant screamed, and we both bolted straight up! We were a little confused about what the train was doing when we sat in Orléans for a long time, and a couple of women joined us in our car since the train was filling up more. Getting to Paris was pretty uneventful, except that we were about 12 minutes late; which is unheard of in the French train systems.

Once in Gare Austerlitz in Paris, we found the Métro to take us to Gare du Nord, where we were going to catch the Eurostar. We were briefly above ground, and managed to see the tops of the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame, but that was the extent of our Parisian experience. I'm really going to have to go back; I missed it even just from the Métro itself.

The Gare itself wasn't that hard to navigate, although I hadn't really thought about the security necessary since we were going to another country. We had to fill out a card for non-UK residents. Then we got our passports stamped by the French border patrol (my first passport stamp with a train on it!) and had to talk to the British border patrol about 5 feet further on. The X-ray and stuff was ridiculously simple, and then we were through to the boarding lobby. Grant had had some kind of mix-up with his ticket and was scheduled to be on the 12:13 train rather than the 11:13 with me, but we talked to the desk and they got him on the earlier train, although not in the same car. I was in Carriage 1, the very first on the train. There were a couple of French girls sitting beside and across from me, a British girl across diagonally, and there was a Spanish couple with their two young boys across the aisle. The father was cute; he kept trying to mind the two boys, calling them "mi amor" and stuff.

The Eurostar was pretty nice, as trains go. Grant and I both realised that when we didn't know whether we'd crossed the Channel yet all we had to do was see which way people were driving on the freeways. I was expecting the Chunnel to be more of a big deal, but it was basically just a long black tunnel; I honestly didn't even notice we were through until I looked up from my book and everything was grey and misty and *so* typically obviously England. The Eurostar was also about 15 minutes late (we had bad luck, I guess), but we still managed to get out of the St. Pancras station, cross over and find King's Cross, and meet up with my Aunt Roxanne's friend Katie in front of the appointed Burger King. Grant and I both got some British pounds from the ATM, got some lunch (mmm, traditional pasty with beef and potatoes and onions...), and went with Katie to the Underground.

Katie is American, but her new husband Allan is from Scotland and works in the Royal Air Force, so she moved to London after their wedding. She very graciously agreed to let me and Grant spend a few days with her during our vacation, and she seems to be purely adorable and sweet. I went ahead and bought a 7-day pass for the Underground, since I'm planning to ride it everywhere the whole few days I'm here, and it's just simpler. Katie showed us how to take the Northern Line (which is actually one of the more confusing, since it splits and meets up and splits again) up to her house. It's an adorable little two-bedroom apartment (I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom and Grant agreed to take the air mattress in the living room) where there's apparently mixed civilian and military housing. We also got to meet Mazzie, who is Katie's wiener-dog mutt. I'll have to take pictures of her before I leave, because she is adorable.

After dropping off our luggage and settling in a bit (and I changed, because it was pouring down rain and I was soaked), the two of us headed off on our own again to see a little bit of the city. We went to Embankment, which is right on the bank of the Thames, and took brief little pictures of the London Eye and Big Ben. The main reason I wanted to go was to see Cleopatra's Needle, which is an Egyptian obelisk that was taken from Egypt when the British defeated Napoleon and now sits in the center of London. We took a couple pictures, but it was very cold and rainy, so we quickly headed back down into the Tube. We went up to the theatre district, near Leicester Square. On Monday we'd decided that it would be fun to see a show, but before it began we walked around a bit. It was amazing to see all the lights and posters for all the various shows that are playing: Lion King, Phantom of the Opera, Wicked, Les Misérables, Billy Elliot, and a hundred others.

For dinner we decided on a little Italian restaurant. It was really small and close, but cute. Grant got a pizza, and I had Penne Marco Polo, which was penne pasta with duck and mushrooms in a plum sauce. It was really, really good, and really sweet, which was interesting. I also tried something called Fruitisa, which was some sparkling pomegrante juice, and that was okay. What absolutely made the restaurant, though, was the dessert. We split a piece of cheesecake with red berries and sauce on top, and it was absolutely the lightest, sweetest, most heavenly piece of cheesecake I have ever tasted; and the berries were sweet and tart and added just the right touch of flavour.

After dinner, we headed back towards the Wyndham's Theatre, which was where our show was. The website had said that you come out of the Tube station and the theatre was right there, and they weren't lying; you could basically walk 5 steps from the station awning to the theatre awning without even getting wet! The show we went to see was called "An Inspector Calls," and is a British play about a well-off British family whose dinner party is interrupted by a strange Inspector Goole, who shows up and starts asking questions in regard to the suicide of a working-class girl, Eva Smith. We had considered going to something more well-known, but a friend of mine who's in theatre told me that the best thing to do in London was to see British theatre, rather than a show that you could see any time back in the States. It definitely paid off, too! The theatre itself was obviously a little old (there was a renovation fee included in our ticket price), but it was elegant and the seating was perfect. We were in the very last row in the very top balcony, but we could see and hear everything just fine.

The show itself is extremely different. It kind of plays tricks with your mind, and you're not really sure what to believe at certain points. They had magnificent effects, though; the stage was built so that half of it was this huge mechanised cutaway house, which could open up so that you could see the inside, and had a staircase that moved up to lock in place and connect it with the rest of the stage. At one specific part in the play, they used pyrotechnic explosions and the mechanics made the house fall down, and it was really startling and a little terrifying for a second. The plot is really twisty, and it's definitely not what you might expect it to be. I left at first going "what the...?" and it wasn't until I'd really thought it over a bit more that I decided I actually liked it quite a lot. The actors were fantastic (in my, admittedly very limited theatrical opinion), especially the Inspector himself.

After the show, Grant and I took the train back to Katie's house, where we got to meet Allan for the first time. We sat up and talked for a while, and then they told me how to use the internet here. Now, I need to go to bed. Tomorrow we have even more things planned, and I need to get some sleep!

Daily Grind?

The past few days have gone by fairly quickly, mostly in a haze of classes and gradually getting well again. On Sunday morning, after I had taken the magic medicine Jacqueline gave me, my fever was gone and I just had a sore throat and cough to worry about. That day, I mostly just stayed in bed and willed the sick away.

Monday I was pretty productive. I don't have class until late, but before then I went to the train station and got tickets for my trip to London during break. I'm really excited! I get to stay with a friend of Aunt Roxy's who lives there now, and Grant's coming for part of the time. Grant and Valeria had come with me, and after we went to the station we got sandwiches and sat on a bench to eat them. We had time to kill, so we went into a Hallmark that we saw, kind of out of curiosity. We quickly discovered, thanks to the rack of sexual gag gift stuff right next to the door, that Hallmark in France is very different than in the US. It was pretty funny, actually. After spending a while in there, I realised I had to get to class, so I walked up Rue National to the Tanneurs building for Greek. While waiting for the classroom to open up, I started talking to a nice guy named Giovanni, who's from a tiny French-owned island near Madagascar (I never really caught the name). That class was actually pretty brutal; they move along really quickly in French classes, and you have to keep up or be lost. We were starting Greek declensions, which are really complicated and difficult, and I'm going to have to review a bunch before next week. Giovanni and I exchanged phone numbers after class, so I'm looking forward to having a friend in that class.

Tuesday is, again, my off day. So I slept, did some of the little homework I had, and didn't do much. I'm really starting to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere here.

Yesterday was Wednesday, when I make up for Tuesday. I had to get up early to go to my translation class. At one point, it was looking like everyone here except for Sierra was going to have to take that class, but the other two girls decided to wait and see, so they didn't come. Also, Grant was feeling sick, so Aaron and Joel and I were the only ones going. We finished the English-French article we were translating and started one for French-English, and the professor was really depending on the British and American students to help her. I'm a little worried, if we keep having class at this slow pace. After class, I bought a sandwich on Rue National, on my way to Actualités. We didn't do much in that class, either; we mostly just debated about the roles of women and men and something to do with soccer teams in Africa, and then read an article about CD copyright issues. My French Sciences class added a couple people- one of them from Colorado, which is cool. We talked a little bit about how to write a summary of a scientific article (the French have really strict rules about how to write specific things, so there's formatting and word choice and different stuff like that to learn). Then we learned some vocab in preparation for watching a video called "From Conception to Birth". It was basically the same video everyone watches in 7th grade sex ed classes, complete with the moment where they show the actual birth itself and everyone looks away in horror. I really didn't think it was necessary for my French education to have that experience in French, but oh, well. On the way back home after class, I went into the Simply (which is a grocery store by Rue Bordeaux) and got some snacks for my room, since I assumed that we would once again wait for everyone to get back from classes and choir before eating dinner. That turned out to be incorrect; those few of us who were here at 7:30 ate then, and the rest just ate when they got home. It was a delicious dinner, though; breaded calamari with roasted potatoes and some mayonnaise sauce with lemon in it. I was very pleased.

Last night I also started planning out my London trip, with all the stuff I want to go and see and do. I got as far as making a list, booking a tour of Stonehenge, and figuring out all the information on the Globe before I got bored, and went to bed. This morning I got up late and went down for breakfast. I don't have class until 2, but since it's my Italian class and still pretty up in the air, we'll see what happens.

New Places, New People

Thursday night was cool; we did end up going out and met up with Kate, who's another American girl from the CUEFEE, and with Romain and Alban and their friends. The other girls left first; Sierra and Mamie have now gone out with their two boys a few times, so they were planning on finding them. Aaron and Joel and I met up with them at our favourite bar: Le Puits Sait Tous (The Well Knows All). We didn't stay very long, though, before coming home.

Friday we pretty much just hung around the house, since none of us had anything planned. By the evening we had decided that we should go somewhere this weekend, so we made plans to go to the Château d'Amboise, which is just a brief train ride away.

We woke up early and managed to get out of the house by 10:25, on our way to the train station. In addition to buying my ticket, I went ahead and bought a "Carte 12-25," which is basically a train card you can get if you're between 12 and 25 years old. If you have one, you get huge discounts on most train tickets. With the card, I only paid 4 Euro for the tickets to Amboise, which would otherwise cost 7 Euro. On larger trips, like to Paris, you can save almost half the cost of a ticket.

After about 20 minutes on the train, we got to Amboise. It's a larger town, so we had to work our way through it to find the castle. We had planned to find somewhere to eat, since the castle is closed over lunch. When we crossed the bridge we found a little pizzeria called "Le Salamandre" (which is the emblem of the King François I). We all split little pizzas; mine had artichokes and green peppers and little sausages and was really good. Then for dessert I had strawberry ice cream. We kind of had a hard time figuring out how to pay, since we couldn't get the attention of the waitress, but we finally just put the money on the table and left.

When we crossed the other side of the bridge, we realised that we didn't really know how to get to the castle. It's basically just stuck in the middle of the city, with houses literally crowded up and around it. Fortunately it's France, so there were handy-dandy signs pointing out "Château" and we just followed those. We were walking along through the beautiful little streets and came to an open space where there were lots of little tourist-trap shops selling souvenir stuff. Then we looked to our left, and lo and behold, a château! There was a big long ramp leading up to a gate, but it looked closed, so we walked around the walls trying to find the entrance. We also found a bathroom, which was good for Mamie and I who hadn't gone at the restaurant. It was kind of sketch, though, and several of the stalls didn't have any toilet paper. Finally, we came across a sign that said "Entrance" and was pointing back the way we had come. We, obviously, felt brilliant.

We went back and went up the steps to the gate, but it was still closed. The sign said we had 20 minutes before they opened again, so we hung out and waited. Valeria had brought a huge blue umbrella in case it rained the way it did at Chenonceau, but it was just grey, not raining. So we took a bunch of pictures throughout the day with the umbrella, in order to not have wasted the effort. Eventually, they came back and opened the gate, so we could go in and buy our tickets.

The first thing we did was walk over to the wall overlooking the city and take lots of pictures. We went over to the little chapel, which is where Leonardo di Vinci is buried, and took more pictures there. It was really pretty, both inside and outside, and I became enamoured with the gargoyles. Then we went over to a little lookout point and ran into a couple of girls (we thought they were Italian) who took some group pictures for us. Finally we went over to the actual castle part, which is actually the royal apartments. It was really beautiful, and had a lot of cool stuff inside. I once again was a complete heraldry geek, so the room where *everything* was covered with fleur-de-lis and ermines made me very happy. We also got to go up the tower and see the entire city from on high. Then we went out and walked through the beautiful gardens and took even more pictures. We ran into the "Italian" girls again, and they took a couple more pictures of our group. It turns out that they're from Argentina; we talked to them a little bit. Then we finished wandering through the rest of the castle (I found more gargoyles) and the gift shop, where everything was super expensive.

After we left, we still had a couple hours before our train would leave. We wandered around looking for a little coffee shop or boulangerie where we could hang out for a bit, and ended up going into a bar. Unfortunately they weren't serving food anymore, since it was the afternoon, so we just got Cokes and Oranginas and stayed there for a while. Mamie told us a scary story about a girl who went missing in Mexico and then later her friends saw her sitting in the back of a car and called the police. It turns out she'd been killed and they were trying to use her body to transport drugs across the border. We were all really freaked out, and we've resolved never to let anyone go missing ever (not that we would have anyway, but still). Finally we headed back to the train station and waited a bit longer for our train, and came back to Tours.

That night we had some kind of beef wrapped in something else for dinner, with little potatoes and rice. I don't really know what it was, but it was delicious. Xavier's friend Daniel came to dinner again, and they talked politics for a while. None of us knew what they were talking about, which was a little awkward. After dinner, we girls decided to go out again. Romain and Alban were bringing some friends, so there would be more people to talk to and Valeria and I wouldn't be left out. Sierra did my eyeshadow and Valeria did my hair, so it looked completely different and really cute. We went to a couple bars but they were really crowded, and finally we found a spot in the back of one, called L'épée royale (The Royal Sword). We hung out for a bit, waiting for the boys, and finally when the bar closed we waited in Place Plumereau. Finally they showed up, and I met Aurélien and Théodore (who goes by Ted). We went to a bar where there's a dancing floor in the back and had a really good time. We didn't come back until 5:30am, and were unfortunately really loud outside before we came back in. Jacqueline poked her head out to tell us to come inside, and we were ridiculously embarrassed. We thought about not going to brunch, since we were so worried about what she'd say.

This morning I slept like a rock; Valeria woke me up when she came in to ask if I was coming to brunch, so I had to hurry and put on clothes and brush my hair. We had some kind of baked egg thing, which was kind of strangely spiced but good. Sierra, Aaron, and Grant went to Chenonceau since they'd missed it, and the rest of us just basically lounged around and talked to Luzé for a while. I'm super hungry, so now we're just waiting for dinner. I hope it's soon!

Chenonceau !!

Yesterday, Valeria, Mamie, Joel, and I went to the Château de Chenonceau for a day trip, before classes start and because we've been bored as hell sitting around the house all day.

The train left at 10:08am, so we got up early and went into town for pain au chocolat for breakfast before we left. If you've never had it, pain au chocolat is amazing. It's basically like a square croissant pastry, but they put two stripes of chocolate in the middle, so it's chocolaty and flaky and delicious. Then we went and got our tickets, which were pretty cheap, since the château is only a 20-minute train ride away.

When we got there, it was kind of weird, because we didn't know really where to go. There was basically just a little train stop (it looked just like a bus stop; there weren't really anything in terms of maps or anything like that) right to the side of a cute little village. Fortunately, when we went towards the village we saw the sign pointing the way! There was a little gift shop where you could buy the entrance tickets, so we bought them and went in!

There's a long drive between the gift shop and the actual château, so we walked for a while, and then finally saw it! The actual château itself is built mostly over the river Cher, so it's kind of a like a combination bridge/castle. We walked around through the four different levels, and saw the kitchens, the gallery, the library, and the bedrooms of various kings and queens.

Chenonceau is kind of known as a woman's castle, since it was frequently given as a gift to various women by the kings or lords who owned it. The most famous historical story about Chenonceau is that it belonged to the crown when Henri II was king. He, feeling generous, gifted it to his favourite mistress, Diane de Poitiers (which, you can imagine, didn't please his wife, Catherine de Medici, at all). Diane owned the castle for a long while, and did a lot to improve and expand it, making it beautiful and comfortable. After Henri died, however, Catherine expelled Diane and took over the castle herself, remodeling it again and making it her place. There are several other notable stories associated with the castle, too, including the fact that during WWII it was one of the few crossing points over the Loire between Nazi-controlled France and Vichy France, so a lot of people escaped through it. It was also used as a hospital during the war, so it saved a lot of people directly, too!

It was a lot of fun to just walk around the castle. A lot of it was obviously built for people my size; there were lots of tiny doors and hallways, which was fun for me. It's a lot smaller than you'd think, for an actual castle, especially if you've ever seen Versailles or any of the other larger châteaux. But I thought it was really cute. Once we had seen everything in the château itself, we went out to the grounds. The whole day was kind of cold and wet and rainy, and only two of us had brought umbrellas, so we didn't really want to wander around too much. But we went through the Garden of Diane de Poitiers, and got some really pretty pictures of the château and the river. There was also a house (probably originally intended to be for the gardeners and servants) that I absolutely fell in love with and really want to live in.

After the garden, I insisted we see the Maze on our way out. It's a hedge maze, with diverging paths and dead ends and things, which was fun. For me, it was tall enough that I couldn't see the right path, but Joel could see the right way to take fairly easily. It was kind of sad; I would've liked to wander more, but it was pretty cold and everyone's toes were freezing. So we took a bunch more pictures, and walked back to the little gift shop. When we got there, we looked around and warmed up a bit. I bought a little necklace that had the maze on it, and says "Château de Chenonceau" on the back. It's not like I'm a little obsessed, or anything. :P

We had basically decided that we'd seen everything we were going to see, so we went back to the train station. At that point, we still had an hour or so before the train was supposed to get there (from my brief looking at the sign), so we went into the town to find a restaurant or something. A lot of them were still closed, since it's probably the off-season for the châteaux, but we found a little bakery/pastry shop, where we got ham-and-butter sandwiches on baguettes and Orangina. We thought we still had some time, and the desserts she had looked incredible, so we also stayed for dessert. Mamie and I shared a little wildberry tart, which was absolutely delicious.

Unfortunately, because we'd stayed for dessert, the train was passing by just as we walked down the street towards the station. We started running, but we didn't realise that there was a second platform to access trains going in the other direction. The trains only stop for about 30 seconds before taking off again, so by the time we had run up to the platform, it was already leaving. That meant that we'd have to wait almost 3 hours for the next train. We basically just sat in the gift shop for Chenonceau, because at least there it was dry, and heated.

We *did* manage to catch the next train, which was a very good thing. All in all, the trip was a lot of fun, and it was wonderful to go out and see things and have fun. When we got back, we told the others about the trip, and settled in until dinner, which was really really good. We had chicken with mushroom sauce and rice, and Jacqueline had some Chinese spring rolls left over from brunch which were also delicious.

Today's been a lazy day, since some (though not all) of us are starting classes tomorrow. I have my first class, Beginning Greek, at 1pm. I went out for a walk along the river a while ago, which was gorgeous. It was late afternoon, and the sun was shining, and the wind was blowing. I went across the Loire River on a bridge that I don't think I was technically supposed to cross by foot, but I did it anyway. Then walked up the other side of the river, where there's a bunch of little walking paths. There were a lot of older couples and people walking their dogs around; I kind of followed where they were going and found the walking bridge across the river (which is what I should have gone over to start with). I took it back, then walked up to the City Library to check their hours, since I only brought two books with me. Then I walked back through the little streets and window-shopped, and saw the Cathedral. I want to go in one of these days, but I think I'll save it for a day that's not a Sunday.

Tonight, we're apparently having sushi for dinner, which is really exciting! (Some people don't like it, and they'll apparently be having something else, but I dunno what.) Then I would say I should go to bed early, since I have class tomorrow, but it's not until 1pm, so whatever. :D

Sitting In My Bedroom, Finally!

I made it! Yes, folks, I am now secure in the little bedroom where I will be living for the next five months! It's really exciting.

The flight out was nothing special. Aunt Roxy got me to Sea-Tac and saw me off, and I went through security without any problems. I'd never flown Icelandair before. The guy sitting next to me was very pleasant; he'd been born in Wisconsin, lived in Australia for 10 years and so got dual citizenship, and had now lived in Stockholm, Sweden for 3 1/2 years. They don't serve complimentary food, so I had eaten before I left and bought a sandwich and orange juice to take with me. Of course, I got so absorbed in my book on the flight that I didn't think to eat or sleep until I was done, at which point there was only 1 1/2 left in the flight. I tried to take a nap anyway, but that was when an old guy in the row behind me and across the aisle fainted, and there was quite a crowd trying to make sure he was okay. The paramedics took him as soon as we landed, so I'm just wishing him all the best.

The annoying thing about the flight was that I didn't know I'd have to go through another (EU-sanctioned) security check when I got to Reykjavik. It was full-on; metal detector, shoes off, laptops out, no liquids. They even made you take all your electronics out of the bags to scan more closely. I didn't have a problem with the scanning, I just wish I'd known; then maybe I would've drank my orange juice and not had it taken away! After going through, they stamped my passport and I wandered through the deserted 6am Keflavik airport, trying to find my flight, which was an hour delayed and at a different gate than my boarding pass said. Nearly missed the boarding call, but got on the flight okay and was off again. This time I slept most of the way to France, although I was awake when we came across the Channel to see the coastline come up beneath us. I once again forgot to eat my sandwich (which they did not confiscate), making it a good 9 or 10 hours since I'd eaten.

Wandered through the labyrinth that is Charles de Gaulle, found my baggage, and by a stroke of good fortune had no problems at all meeting up with Valeria. She and I had decided to take the train together, to ease any problems aside with strength in numbers. We ended up sitting in the Charles de Gaulle/Roissy train station for two hours, which wasn't unpleasant except you had to pay for the bathrooms and there was no heat. Boarding the warm train was wonderful, although we ended up in separate cars. I mostly dozed on the way to our connection in St. Pierre des Corps, being too nervous about missing the stop to actually sleep. I *did* finally remember my sandwich, and felt much less dizzy after eating it.

When I departed the train in St. Pierre des Corps, Valeria had picked up another fellow traveler; Joel was arriving the same day. Our now trio made the connecting five minute train hop, and came out into the splendorous darkness of our first day (evening) in Tours. I proved my skills as a nimble navigator and we walked the rest of the way to Le Nonante, where we'll be staying.

Jacqueline answered the door, after a slightly nervous moment where we thought maybe no-one would. She's the daughter-in-law of the woman who used to own Le Nonante. Unfortunately that lady, Madame Genevieve Dhommée, died a few weeks ago. Jacqueline and Madame Dhommée's son Xavier have decided to run the place now, and moved in for the purpose. We were shown our bedrooms and told about the rules (always lock the door when you leave, don't tie up the phone lines, turn all the lights out if you're the last one awake). I'm sharing a room with Valeria, which isn't necessarily ideal, but not because I don't like Valeria; only because I'd rather be alone. If it comes to roommates, though, Valeria and I seem to get along pretty well. She's really nice, and we had fun being camwhore tourists on the way out.

The bedroom itself is adorable. The walls are some kind of burlap-y fabric, and there are several landscapes on the walls, in addition to a copy of Café la Nuit. It's small, but in a cozy way, and the house has the particularly personable kind of smell and feel and character that only comes with age. Also, the beds are very squishy. I sat down on mine and I swear I sank in a foot.

When Xavier and Mathias got home (Mathias is their seven-year-old boy), Xavier repeated much of what Jacqueline had said and we had dinner. The meal was good, although I'm really noticing the flaws in my French. This semester is exactly what I need to get myself turned around right again. After dinner we helped wash up and set the table for breakfast (a cool little time-saving chore). Then we went upstairs and put our stuff away and started to settle. I tried to put pictures on facebook, but it was being annoying. I'll try again before I go to bed.

Tomorrow, my mission is to take pictures of the house and some of the surrounding area and possibly go exploring a little. Grant and Mamie get in tomorrow night, which should be lots of fun. Grant always makes everyone feel more at ease, and at this point in the semester, when we're all still a little shy and not quite at home, that should be just the thing.

One day down, five wonderful months to go!

Ready To Leave

So here I sit, in my Aunt Roxanne's apartment in Seattle, just about ready to take off for a whole semester! I have packed bags, lists of Important Information, and a passport with a visa. I think I'm pretty set!

I'll be leaving from Sea-Tac Airport through Iceland to Charles de Gaulle, and then taking the train to Tours. If you want to keep up with my semester abroad, tune in! And I'll try and update when I can.