scooter streets

Observation #145: Razor scooters are so not over in Tours.


My walk to school for the past almost-four weeks has become routine, yes, but in the best possible way. I always cut through the train station, a place so interesting in and of itself. Every morning, I see the woman in the beige coat with the Harrod's bag. She's just one of the many tourangeau/tourangelle who commute from the banlieues, or suburbs, into the city every day for work. A shuttle train brings people from St. Pierre des Corps to Tours regularly every day.

Then there's the man in a suit who follows either close behind me, or walks just ahead, depending on when I get out of bed. Every morning, he shakes the hand of a man with a cigar as they pass each other at the gate. Suit Man boards the TGV with all the others who work around Montparnasse; they'll be at their office doors in just over an hour. Cigar Man heads away from the station and towards his office. Maybe he works at one of the many law offices near my house.

There is a surprising number of bums on the streets this early too. Their malnourished dogs never cease their curiosity-- and the dreadlock sporting, parachute-pant wearing delinquents never cease drinking Kronenbourg out of cans bought at the nearest supermarket. After learning about the money given to those au chomage, or unemployed, I wonder if the men who sit outside the train station, smoking cigarette butts and talking to the sky have picked up their monthly allowance for more cigarettes and beer.

l'Institut de Touraine

Closer to the Institute, I have many an encounter with middle-school kids on Razor scooters. Despite the iPod headphones in my ears, I can hear the rumble of their rubber wheels before they're too close, and I always scurry closer to the wall as I walk, to avoid catastrophe. I also was on the verge of being hit by a car today-- I was attempting to cross a road when a maintenance van made a swift turn towards me. I probably could have argued, but I'm not ready for that yet.

Michael from Alabama is staying with his aunt and uncle here in Tours, and after informing his aunt that he was meeting up with friends at Place Plu, she offered him her scooter.
"I ride it all around town! It's very good! You will be in the Place in only 7 or 8 minutes!"

So forget riding bikes around with une baguette and a bunch of flowers in the basket-- wipe the dust off that Razor scooter instead, if you want to be really French!

As for me, despite the pending collisions, I think I'll stick to walking.

"J'en ai marre!"

I think I'm going to start keeping track of my favorite things to say in French, the above being one of them. For anyone familiar with the Smiths, the pronunciation of, "J'en ai marre!" (I'm fed up with...) is exactly the same as Johnny Marr, their lead guitarist.
Another of my favorites is spoken instead of "Cheese!" during pictures. The French say, "Oustiti!" which is a type of bird, apparently. "Fromage" just doesn't conjur up a smile the same way cheese does, I suppose.

I have a huge crush on my phonetics/oral expression teacher, Loic. I hope I can take a picture with him before Friday, so I can show all of you my flavor of the month. He's fantastic.

So here I find myself, with only four days left in Tours. I can't believe that I'm going to Paris on Friday; it seems like only yesterday, I was arriving here at 63, rue Jean-Jacques Noirmant, and meeting Serge and Marie-Joe. In a few days I'll have to leave their delicious cooking and comfortable bed behind and take on the big city. I have to say, I'm a little apprehensive, just because the program directors haven't been all that helpful in getting us set up for our semester there. I don't even know yet what level I'll be in at the Institut Catholique, or "Catho", nor do I know what electives I can take.

I've struck up a friendship with a few people from the other big program studying at the Institute, from Hartwick College in New York. We went out together this weekend, and our two groups do a lot of excursions together, so on Saturday we all took a bus to the chateaux Chambord and Cheverny, and on Sunday, we went to see an opera at the Grand Theatre, called "Le Pays". It was a great few days and I really like all the girls I've been hanging out with. I'll be really sad to see them go on Sunday, as their program is just for the month of January. I think some of them are starting to wish that they could stay too!

These are some of the people from the Institut on Friday night,
enjoying a few drinks in Place Plumerau before going dancing...

Amanda and I

Some of the 72 hunting dogs kept at Cheverny



Flashing the peace sign...
One of the most magnificent places in the world!






Girls from Hartwick- Becca, Amanda, myself, and Nat(h)alie

I find myself eating things I would normally refuse, to be polite to my host parents. Well, really, I just mean veal and steak that was almost still alive and way too rare for my taste. Everything else, I have no trouble eating, and enjoying (thanks mum and dad!) Unlike many of the other students I'm studying with, I have not, am not, and never ever will be a picky eater. You won't see me taking tomato sauce off my pizza or scraping pesto off my sandwich. No sir. I have, surprisingly, managed to steer clear of "chevre", or goats' cheese, and I wish so badly that I enjoyed the taste as it is quite a specialty here in the Loire valley, but alas, I just can't do it.

I've had to invest in a battery charger as my camera died over the weekend, bringing my total "investments" count to 4: another coat, the battery charger, a hairdryer, and a Longchamp bag. Hopefully I can get my "investments" out of the way before Paris....

Since our train leaves Tours at 12:09 on Friday, our group won't be attending classes and is therefore missing our weekly test. Quel dommage. I sure will miss Francoise and the black trousers she wears every single day, the way she casually makes fun of us hoping we won't notice, and her penchant for "travaillez avec vos voisins".

Hanging out with a goat on a leash in Place Plu.

Average Saturday night, I suppose...

I suppose the next time I write will be from Paris, hopefully. Bises!

bad hotels, good wine

I guess people don't really exercise that much in Tours. When I went to the Luxembourg Gardens on my one day in Paris earlier this month, there were about 50 runners out early in the morning... but in Tours? I feel like a freak in spandex, a t-shirt, and running shoes jogging up and down the boulevard.
It's really a great feeling though, after a day of class, to plug in the "running" playlist on my iPod and brave the rush-hour crowds in the city to run past magnificent architecture from the 18th century, adorned with French flags and sculptures. Today was the first nice day we've had here in Tours in about a week and a half, and I really enjoyed the sun.


On Saturday morning (perhaps a bit too early after a night at the bar), I left on the TGV (French high-speed train, FYI) with my friend Deirdre for Bordeaux. The train ride took a little less than 3 hours, and we arrived in Bordeaux tired and apprehensive because, although we were quite close to the southern French border, the weather looked no better than it is usually here in Tours.
Things only got worse when we found that the tourist office at the train station was closed on weekends, then got kicked out of a cafe, because we only bought coffees and wanted to sit for a while. We walked around a construction site for a while, looking for a bus stop, and decided we didn't think too highly of Bordeaux after all.
We finally found the bus to take us to the hostel we had booked online. The man at the desk chastised us for speaking English instead of attempting French, then charged a whole 30 euros to my credit card for the room... next time, I'll be sure to splurge a little for something more suitable.
This hotel was absolutely the worst in France. We were roomed in an annex building, down a block from the original hotel. There was a code to punch in to get inside, but the keypad had been burned with a cigarette. There was no light in the hallway, and when we did finally find some illumination, we wished we hadn't. Orange linoleum covered the floors and royal blue paint was peeling off the walls. Our room, when we finally made it upstairs, at least had two beds, but we couldn't even sleep under the covers because the stains on the quilts were worrying. We had to make do with towels and coats during the night.





After quickly hiding our bags in our "room" and running outside, we booked two tickets for a bus to take us to St. Emilion, which is a medieval village to the west of Bordeaux, famous for its red wine. The tour was pretty good; the wine was delicious.


We caught a gorgeous sunset on the bus ride back to Bordeaux. I think that sort of sight will be really lacking when I move to Paris.


After a brief, terrifying nap in our room, Deirdre and I showered and headed out to find somewhere for dinner around 9. We stumbled upon a great little pizza cafe, where the owner was really really nice and we stayed chatting for just under three hours. We had to, of course, indulge in a little Bordeaux wine while we ate our pizza!
Afterwards, we wandered around the city, but didn't make it all the way to the square where many university students go on weekends. We stopped in at an English pub called "The Cock and Bull"... cock being France's emblem (surprising, eh?) and the bulldog being England's. The bartenders were really nice and one, from Germany, told us he was studying for Bordeaux and that everyone tended to go home on weekends anyway. Disappointed, we drank a few Bulmers (the special of the night!), watched some football, and walked home.


The next morning we woke up to the sound of someone trying to open our door. We leapt out of bed, splashed water on our faces, threw on some clothes, and threw our key at the hotel manager on our way down the street.
DO NOT EVER STAY AT HOTEL STUDIO IN BORDEAUX.
I guess we should have known when we only had to pay 17 euros each, and www.hostelworld.com said "basic but confortable."

We found a little bakery called "Paul" which is apparently a chain, but a high-end one with delicious pastries and sandwiches, and, surprisingly for France, really great coffee-- to go! After eating breakfast, we lugged our bags around Bordeaux and after realizing everything would be closed because it was Sunday, we decided to check out a modern art museum there.


We walked towards the quay, and subsequently found the entire population of Bordeaux at a market along the water. We decided, after finding a stall selling litres of rose for 1.60 euros, to buy some bread and cheese (and wine) and sit along the water to eat. The sun was shining, everyone was content, and it was the best time I've had since arriving in France.

We walked around for a bit, then eventually found the art museum we'd been looking for all afternoon. After almost forgetting to pay the entry rate, we walked around the gallery and then headed towards the train station to catch out 6:00 train back to Tours-- but not without one more pitstop at Paul again!


It was a fantastic weekend, despite the worst hotel in France and the disappointment of the weather on the first day. The trip made me really look forward to whatever other weekends I decide to spend in places other than Tours or Paris.
Matt has booked his ticket to come to Paris for my 21st birthday, so I'm really excited to get there, and get to know the city before my visitors arrive!

I've done well on both my French tests so far, and it's a strange feeling to only have to achieve a C in order to get Villanova credit.

Last night after dinner, I got Marie-Joe to start typing up some of her delicious recipes for me to take back home. We had a cheese souffle yesterday, and she gave me the recipe although I know I won't be able to cook it like she does! I'm hoping also to learn quiche, creme caramel, and a fantastic mustard/vinegar dressing.
Perhaps I won't need to take cooking classes in Paris after all... I'd much rather learn from Marie-Joe and Serge anyway. I'm really going to miss them, and my lovely room with its big bed, when I move in under two weeks! Time is flying by.

Hope you're all well, and I also hope to hear from you soon. Bises!

like something out of a storybook

It's 2 p.m. and I'm ashamed to say I've only been fully awake for about an hour now. Last night, I went out with two girls from my group and we actually met some French people at an Irish pub who then took us to a popular club in Tours. I had a good time, but since the house I'm staying in is all the way across town, the walk to the city center was really unpleasant in my heels and the walk home (yes, at 4 a.m.) was equally as bad. The club was strange as they played only "rock" and the stench of some of the dancers was off-putting, but hey, it's France.


Classes are going well but this first week of having class every morning and afternoon was really tiring. It's definitely an adjustment, getting into the routine. My favorite part of the day is the break for déjeuner at noon. Our group has found a little sandwicherie close to school, so every day we make our way there for sandwiches on deliciously fresh baguette, or panini if it's cold out (which it has been lately). The photo is of Faith and Deirdre, two girls in my group, sitting outside our lunch place.

One of the many perks of a university town like Tours is the student discounts we've found at places like Les Délices de Louise, where a sandwich and a coke costs 2.70 euros. I have a feeling Paris won't be so kind to my wallet.

I had an amusing encounter on Thursday evening, as I walked home from class (see photo... evening in Tours). I usually walk with my iPod headphones and keep my eyes to the ground to avoid making an "eye contact faux pas" but as I walked past the train station on Thursday, I noticed a group of people trying to get my attention. I pulled my headphones off and they looked at me and said, "MacDonalds?" I shrugged and said, "Je ne sais pas, désolé," but to my surprise, they just looked confused. So I continued, explaining in French that I didn't live in Tours so I didn't know, but nothing seemed to make sense to them. One of the women said something about "anglais" and then I realized: "Oh, you speak English!" They turned out to be Irish, actually, but I didn't chat with them because the whole interaction was pretty awkward. I walked on towards the house, and I think they followed me for a while, but then realized that we were further into a residential area, so they turned around.

It's just funny realizing that I'm already in the mode of answering questions in French, even when it makes things far more complicated than they have to be!

Yesterday, I had to meet up with the Central College group and another group of American students studying in Tours, from Hartwick College in New York. We took a trip to visit two of the famous chateaux of the Loire: Loche and Chenonceau. Although it was freezing out, the sun shone (finally) and it was a really nice day. We had our own tour guide who took us to both sites and she knew many little anecdotes to supplement the boring historical stuff.


That's Loche, which is a medieval castle where Joan of Arc actually stopped on her tour of the Loire. There's also a beautiful cathedral next to the castle with lovely stained glass and the tomb of Agnes Sorel, the mistress of the king.



Loche itself is a perfectly preserved medieval town, with lots of cute shops and restaurants. We had a yummy pizza lunch to warm up from the cold outside!
Which reminds me- the semi-annual "soldes", or sales, are on now and my host parents have just informed me that even though it's Sunday, the shops are open. I must invest in another wool coat.

After Loche, we got back on the bus and drove to Chenonceau, which was another 30 minutes away and is the most visited of the French chateaux. They call the Loire Valley "La Vallée des Rois" or the Valley of the Kings because there are so many castles around.


I've been to Chenonceau before, with dad, when we visited the Loire a few years ago. Seeing the castle and the grounds during the winter is very different from visiting in the summer! On a positive note, it wasn't very crowded so that was to our advantage.



Disney has nothing on places like this.

at last!

I'm alive, I promise.
Internet is patchy here in Tours, so I can't regularly check things or update things; thus, the lack of blog update.
The arrival in France was a little harder than I originally thought it would be. We spent the first day in Paris, and upon arriving at the hotel, I discovered I wasn't allowed to check in for about 4 hours, so I had to leave my very heavy bags in the restaurant (?) of the hotel and walk aimlessly around Montparnasse (not that that's a bad thing) until check-in. All I wanted to do was to take a nap, but alas. I had to content myself with wandering around the Cimitiere de Montparnasse, where people like Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, and Samuel Beckett are buried. I got a cafe creme down the street from the hotel and celebrated the fact that there I was, sitting in PARIS.





I did feel lonely, though, and meeting everyone was exciting but also a let-down, as there are only 8 people on the trip altogether. We'll be meeting up with a few more students back in Paris who are studying for the year. Right now we're seven girls and only one boy...
The first night, we stayed in Paris overnight and had galettes (savory crepes) for dinner, with cider to drink (YUM). We all went to bed early as the journey had tired everyone out, especially me who didn't get a wink of sleep on the six-hour flight.
The next morning we were up early to catch a train from the Montparnasse Station to Tours, which is a small city in the Loire region of France, southwest of Paris. The ride only took an hour and at the end of the line were our host families, with whom we would be living for the next three and a half weeks while here in Tours. I was really, really nervous about meeting my host parents and apprehensive that we would get along, but j'ai beaucoup de la chance (I'm very lucky)!
They're a retired couple in their sixties, whose children are grown-up and don't live at home anymore. Their names are Marie-Jo and Serge, and being in their house is like living with grandparents who spoil me all the time. They've given me a bedroom with a large double bed and my own sink and shower, closet space, and then a shared toilet. My "petit apartement" is on its own floor so it's very private. They really leave me alone unless I approach them, which is perfect, and they're amazing cooks! The husband, Serge, cooks most nights and Marie-Jo makes the desserts. They're very healthy, rarely cook with butter and use margarine and olive oil instead (a far cry from Paula Dean I'm afraid!) We talk a lot, and with host parents and class every day, I think I end up speaking French about three-quarters of the time.
Classes are very intense, and after taking a written and oral test, I have been placed in an Intermediate class, which is fair by French standards (apparently). We have a variety of activities every day, including a regular grammar class, "atelier" which is like current events, "periode active" during which we discuss contemporary useful things like movie times etc, "phonetiques", "expression orale", and "labo" which is reading and speaking exercises. It's exhausting and with the exception of Wednesday and Friday, during which I have free afternoons, we have French classes from 9-5, with a lunch break. Whew. I hope I learn as much French as possible; this had better be worth it!
Getting to know the people in my group is a little difficult, as we are so small in number and we each live with a different host family. We're starting to warm up to each other, though, and I hope by the time this month in Tours is finished, we'll be much closer and ready to take on the big city together!
I really am enjoying French life so far. The food is great, naturally, and Central College has organized many excursions during the day on weekends, like visits to the many chateaux of the region and a wine-tasting which we'll be doing this evening. Although I'm partly familiar with the region already, it's really nice to be here for an extended period of time and to take my daily 20 minute walk to the Institut. I showed my host parents photos of my life back home last night after dinner, and they admired my new computer so much that I think it detracted from the pictures!
I hope you are all well back home, and I think I might be able to get some wireless internet at the house from now on, so maybe my updates will be more frequent and include more little anecdotes that are amusing. My only one so far is that I almost left my cell phone at the Institut last night, but realized thankfully and could run back to get it before it closed at 6:30!
Well it's time to drop off my computer before meeting the group to walk to the wine tasting at a cooking school, and then we have plans to go out for a nice dinner and perhaps some boissons! Keep the emails coming...

what a way to begin 2008

It's an unconventional way to begin a new year, by most standards. I thought about making New Year's resolutions, in French, but found myself lacking in vocabulary and unprepared to make promises to which I must adhere in completely new surroundings and among unfamiliar faces.

I've just finished folding my third load of laundry, which has now taken its place in the gargantuan blue suitcase I'll be living with for the next 5 months. I've done this before, and I know I can do it again, yet there's something in the back of my mind telling me that I'm not mentally prepared to leave the places and people I've become so attached to.

But then again, I could be misreading this sense of panic-- maybe it's my own way of recognizing that it's time to meet new people, speak a new language, adapt to a different way of life.

Maybe it's time to grow up.

And so, I'll leave Philadelphia on Friday night and cross the Atlantic for 5 months of French life.

I received quite a few books about Paris for Christmas this year that have only stoked my excitement at being part of such a rich culture. Ernest Hemingway writes in A Moveable Feast, "When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest."

And so I'll meditate on that while I pack up the last few things and get ready for Friday. Here's to Paris in the spring.