move to paris? pourquoi pas?

May?

2008-05-31T14:38:00.004+02:00

Seriously. Where did May go? It feels like yesterday that I was waiting for people to arrive, and now it turns out that I'm leaving in ten days. Madness.

But I forget my manners. How are you? It has been a long time, but I think we all know why I haven't had time to chat. May 1st found me with two of the most delightful people to emerge from the metropolis of Stroud. I spent a fine May Day with Lynne and Joan, showing them some sights and reveling in their generosity. But alas, they were gone too soon, and I was left to wait for my next friendly encounter. I didn't have to wait long as a side-parting, curly-haired vixen with the name of Kelly Ferguson found her way to these shores on May 4th. Our time alone was short lived as her friend from the town of King arrived around three hours after her. Of course I offered my humble abode to him to share with us because he is a darling boy. He too was to part too soon, but being the ever-popular girl, Kelly quickly had two more friends from Queen's to keep her company. Again I offered use of my flat because that is what one does in the presence of royalty. And nice expats. All in all, Kelly did manage to find some alone time for me before she left. Quite fittingly, we went to a castle, and I was able to check it out for when my dearest mother came to ensure she saw nothing but the best. Kelly left me within one week of her arrival, and again I was left alone. But not for long.

The next day found me with a McMaster chum. A friend of Michelle's had a couple of days in Paris by herself, and being addicted to guests, I invited her in. Jacquie and I had a lovely time sitting in parks reading and wandering around aimlessly. To my further enjoyment, we had two more visitors from McMaster come who were good friends with Missy. I must say, five girls living in a tiny apartment during an unseasonal heat-wave could have been a disaster. But Missy and I were ecstatic. Being the minority sex when it comes to our group of Parisian friends, the overwhelming girly time was very much appreciated. Sadly, shortly after we had to say goodbye to Jacquie who was going on to visit Japan to see Michelle, and we were down to four again. But lo and behold, the visitors were not done yet! A fresh faced Casey Ross found her way easily onto the platform of Chatelet. Due to my magnificent planning skills, we didn't have to wait for each other at all, and glided easily throughout the intricate metro system, sweating and carrying an obscene amount of baggage. We arrived at our hotel, confirming with reception that we hadn't actually gotten off in the future, and that yes, the decor was ultra modern but we were still in 2008. But the fun did not stop there, oh no, for there was more familial fun to be had. We were joined, at some point, by four, yes four, more ladies with whom to spend the time. After speeding through some of the inspiring and magnificent to the tacky and fantastic offerings of the city, we had to say goodbye to the fine ladies who were now laden with an excessive amount of baggage. But fear not for me because the intrepid Casey Ross was still with me. After the second, but not the last, foray through the Parisian underground with our lives on our backs, we moved back into my flat which now only housed the two of us. After paying homage to the sights of Paris (some more than others) Casey too was to leave. I was devastated at the news, but I stayed strong as I knew that yes, there was still more. Except it was I that was to leave and become a visitor in a strange land; England, my first European home.

We took the Eurostar, and after a stressful text filled morning of someone (Kevin) losing their keys, finding them, and then running onto the train, we were all headed to London. I must say, the weather did not disappoint. By this I mean it was so stereotypically English it was indeed like someone forgot to send the UK the memo that Spring had arrived. So, after a rainy museum filled day, we met up with the legend that is James Dean and saw some more of London. We then headed up north to a city called Leeds, of which I'm rather fond. After a surreal experience of being weirded out that we were there, but also weirded out that it wasn't weird, drank copious amounts of beer and ate disgustingly great food, it was back down to London for us. We saw a bit more of London and James Dean and called it a trip. We were exhausted. The day we left was beautiful, naturally, and we were back in Paris by 5:30 Thursday.

And there you have it. Now I'm just killing time. I leave a week Monday and sadly the weather here does not seem to be willing to be nice so that I may enjoy my favourite parts of Paris before I leave. Oh well. This will most likely be my last post as I won't do anything of importance in this next week except pack, wander and weep. So I shall see you soon, and look forward to the days where I will always be surrounded by those I know and love.
...And those who I can understand most, if not all of the time.

à bientôt

just another day in paris

2008-04-06T21:50:00.004+02:00

So I went to bed kind of late last night, as is typical of weekends with us young folks who like to revel in each other's company whilst enjoying the finer things in life. Which in our case, I guess, involves drinking two euro bottles of wine and watching witty BBC documentaries on survivalist militias that exist in northwestern America. So you can imagine my annoyance when I was awakened this morning to intermittent chanting and 'woooo'ing outside my window on the street below. There had been much talk in the media about upcoming protests regarding the Olympic torch and China that I figured some keeners had gotten a head start and were yelling outside my window. What I actually found, when I raked the sleep from my encrusted eyelids and my mildly dehydrated brain allowed me to focus, was thousands upon thousands of people flooding the street. Were there riots again? Was Godzilla approaching from just beyond the foggy haze of la Defense? Had Heather Mills expressed an interest in moving to Paris? And then I remembered: Today was the Paris Marathon. I had no idea the route was by my apartment. So instead of hating those keeners that had been cheering 'ouaaaaaais!' at the ungodly hour of 9:30 am on a Sunday, I was glad for their enthusiasm. It really was a site to behold. Just thousands of runners trotting along the street in droves. I believe around 35 000 people had entered. I didn't see all of them because the cheering at first had been mixing with some early morning dreams, confusing the hell out of me, but it took around a half an hour for them all to peter out. It was pretty sweet.

Tomorrow the Olympic torch is supposed to come through Paris. As you may have heard, France is not pleased with China's policies towards Tibet and are talking about boycotting the Olympic opening ceremonies. A ton of protests have been organized for tomorrow for when the flame makes its way around Paris. I unfortunately can't go see it or watch the protests because it's starting just as I have to go to work, which really sucks. Kevin is going to go on everyone's behalf and tell us about it. Providing he doesn't get shot. Which most likely won't happen. There is going to be a TON of police presence though, so I’m not sure how much he will actually be able to see. It's coming pretty close to my house too. Rats.

Anyway, this entry wasn't really about anything. Sometimes little things happen outside my window that I wouldn't normally see and it makes me happy that I live here. And I just felt like sharing.

xo

Easter

2008-03-27T16:35:00.005+01:00

I wasn't planning on blogging so soon after the Vacation Trilogy, but I figured I'd write a little one over my six day Easter holiday. Which was unintentional. Or rather intentional, but unknown to myself. This week I kept showing up for work and they kept forgetting to inform me that I wasn't needed. So I spent three hours of my day going in a complete circle. Twice. I got confirmation that I will be needed tomorrow, so I will have worked a total of three hours this week. It's like I'm Kevin or Missy or something.

For Easter, I somehow stumbled onto an invitation to this Scottish family's home. It's a friend of one of my friends here and his friend kindly invited all six of us to join them for an Easter dinner. Just to clarify, I had no idea who these people were when we accepted. It turned out quite well though and we had a fantastic meal. It was a great afternoon, so much so that we all went for a walk to sober up a bit at around 3:30 in the afternoon. Oh British ex-pats. It's nice to know some things stay the same.

I hope everyone enjoyed their four day weekend! I know you're back to the grind now, but hey, it's still only a four day week. Unlike my one day week... I have a ridiculous life.

ciao

oh and for those who miss the sound of my voice and the warmth of my touch (which hopefully is none of you as you're most likely related to me if you're reading this) I'll be home June 9th. It's booked, done and done. Make sure to note that down in your agenda with hearts and rainbows. Your life will be complete and whole again in around 10 weeks time. I know that will help you sleep better tonight.

And if not, reread all my old posts. That will definitely do the trick.

update

2008-03-19T01:07:00.002+01:00

So. All three posts are written.

Tunisia, Malta and Morocco photos are up.

And something special that I bet you weren't expecting...videos! There are four videos posted for your viewing pleasure on photobucket. The quality is quite shit, but you get the idea.

Morocco: A trip of finally getting it right

2008-03-18T20:26:00.003+01:00

Alright. From the top.

So I left off with us being ripped off by a terrible, terrible Maltese man. No more looking back. Onward we go.

Day 12 -> March 5th
Our flight from Tunis had a stopover in Sicily before going to Casablanca. It was a nice roundabout (doubling-back) way of doing things. The flight to Sicily was short and without incident, as most flights tend to be. The flight from Sicily was another story. Firstly, because the flight then was from Sicily to Casablanca on a Maltese airline, all the announcements were in Maltese, English, Italian, French and Arabic. Needless to say, it took a long time to explain the safety procedures. Later on during the flight, I had to go to the washroom. I walked to the back of the plane to find the flight attendants in quite the agitated state. The female flight attendant came out of the washroom, saw me standing there, and locked it. The male one wanted to let me use it, and after some arguing, I was allowed to pee. Darn sporting of them. Anyway, this entire time they were fighting in frantic Maltese, but I managed to discern the word ‘cigarette’ from the bickering. Someone had been smoking in the toilets. Now from Sicily to Casablanca is not a long flight. Around two hours. And this was about 45 minutes into it. So anyway, an announcement came on shortly after that said ‘It is forbidden to smoke in the toilets’.
Except this time, it was only in Italian.

So the Italians all started getting out of hand and we thought there was going to be a riot, but it settled itself down. There were a few more incidents of people doing airplane ‘no-nos’ such as standing up while the seat belt sign was on and while taxiing (as we hadn’t come to a full and complete stop). Honestly, it was the worst behaved flight I’ve ever been on. But we made it to Casablanca, nonetheless. Kevin and I earlier had made the decision to leave Casablanca immediately and go to Marrakech. It was waiting on the platform there where we met our surrogate Australian family. It was a mother and a son and they immediately spotted us as travelers due to our blonde hair and patch-covered backpacks. So we shared a cabin on the train and chatted for the three-hour ride to Marrakech. Kevin and I had booked a room for one night already (due to the Tunisian fiasco – see, we learn) so they decided to follow us as they had no plans. En route we spotted some more backpackers with a map, so we picked them up too. These ones were Polish, but spoke English. We had booked our place on Hostelworld.com, and the one recommendation the reviews gave it was that it is hard to find, so call the hostel to send a guide for you. So we called the guide. Those reviews were right; it would have been impossible to find. And even though there was only a reservation for two, all six of us went. Kevin and I thought we should have gotten commission for bringing the place so much business. Anyway, it was a Riad, which is a renovated old home in the medina. It was so nice and so was the owner. He sat down with us and gave us all the mint tea we could handle.

(Side note: mint tea is freaking delicious. My god.).

So our Polish/Australian new best friends stuck with us and we headed down to the main square of the medina to check out the food stalls. This experience at first was overwhelming to say the least. You have a bunch of outdoor food stalls with people yelling at you to eat in their shops, touching and dragging you towards their food. Suzanne, Mama Aussie, took the brunt of this. Once we realized they were all the same and offered vegetarian stuff for Kevin, it was more relaxing. The food was cheap and good. I actually loved the food stalls after, and we ate there every night. We just sat down at the first one we would see and watched them harass everyone else. It was great and all in good fun.

Day 13 -> March 6th
Since we only had a reservation for two people and the Riad was full for that evening, we all (the six of us) had to change riads. The owner has three properties so it wasn’t a problem. Kevin and I decided to wander around the medina and try to see the Jewish quarter. It was hot (at least 25 C) and again like in Tunisia, it was impossible to navigate. We think we found the Jewish neighbourhood because sketchy guys who wanted to guide us to the synagogue said so. However, they were so persistent and annoying that we just left. It was frustrating getting around. Eventually we just retraced our steps to find the main square. We wandered the souks for awhile. Contrary to Tunis, these were easy to get around. We did a bit of shopping. We don’t really like/aren't good at haggling though. We decided to then go back to the riad. Unfortunately, we got lost. We knew we were in the right area, but we couldn’t find the damn thing. So we admitted defeat and wandered all the way back to the other riad so that someone would guide us. We felt like perfect idiots.

What was nice about the riads is that they created a very social atmosphere. We met some posh English folk from London and these two Russian girls who were such stereotypes that they were inadvertently both hilarious and terrifying. It was nice, especially since I don’t actually like Kevin, so any distraction was appreciated. Don’t feel bad for him. It’s mutual.

Day 14 -> March 7th
We were planning on staying another night in Marrakech, but our riad supposedly had no room. So after we spent all morning trying to find somewhere else to stay, it turned out there was a mistake, and they had room for all four of us (the Polish guys left). So that was good. We had enough of trying to get around the medina, so the Australians and us rented a cab to drive us through the Atlas Mountains. The mountains and scenery were beautiful. It was cool to feel so hot, and yet see snow in the distance on the mountains. The people who live there are called Berbers. We saw one of their homes. It was awkward because we didn’t really want to go, but our driver stopped there, so we went in. I don’t really like doing stuff like that because it makes me feel like I’m going to a human zoo.
Anyway.

Earlier, our driver had stopped to pray, so we bought some bread and cheese from a small shop nearby. There was a random tourist area in the mountains, so we found some spare grass (or rocks) and had a picnic. I’m really glad we took the ride out there. It was worth it. That night we went to the food stalls with the Australians. Suzanne had read that one stall sold lentil soups, so we went there. It was really good, but I knew as I was eating it that it would come back and haunt me in the night.
In the echoey riad.
Where every sound from every room in amplified by the central courtyard.

And I was right.

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. But still. Unfortunate.
On a less personal note, after dinner we went back into the souks and were greatly entertained by Suzanne and Tristan haggling. It was quite fun to watch. They had all the shopkeepers interested and there was yelling in the streets. It was quite funny post-dinner entertainment.

Day 15 – March 8th
We had to leave that day to go back to Casablanca. The Australians had found a cheap hotel there, so we called ahead and made a reservation. We said bye to them and Rashida (the girl who ran our riad) and took the train back to Casablanca. There was some confusion and indecisiveness when we approached the city and we got off a bit early. It wasn’t a big deal and the faux pas cost Kevin 70 cents. When we got to Casablanca, we were given another nice treat. As soon as you get off the train, people find you and try to take you to their taxi and the subsequently rip you off. This one guy approached, and we said no. We wanted to find one on the street we could negotiate with. Anyway, the original guy saw us talk with and get in another taxi. So he yelled something in Arabic and ended off with a ‘Fuck you tourists!’ That guy has a fool proof business strategy.
Anyway. Back in the cab, the guy tried to say that our hotel we were going to was expensive, around fifty euros a night. We were warned this would happen (where they tell you this and then drive you to their friend’s hotel and receive some sort of commission) so I yelled ‘ÇA VA!’ (it’s fine!), and he stopped talking to me but still kept badgering Kevin. He even said he’d wait outside the hotel to drive us to another place once we realized it was too expensive. The hotel was 9 euros a night each.
Guy was an idiot.

So we had an early dinner and walked to the Hassan II Mosque, which is one of the biggest mosques in the world. It is also Casablanca’s only tourist attraction. Casablanca looks like a European city, for the most part. Just warmer. Back to the mosque, we knew it was too late for a tour, but we went there for the sunset. It is right on the coast, so we wanted to get a look at the Atlantic Ocean. There were so many people just sitting outside of the mosque, and the sunset was really pretty. We left shortly after sundown and went back to the hotel. It was around 7:30. And we were bored.

As.

Shit.

There wasn’t much to do around us and we had little money left and didn’t want to get anymore out. So we sat in our hotel and died a little inside.

Day 16 -> March 9th -> our last day (officially)
We woke up pretty early and went to the mosque. It is one of the few mosques in Muslim Africa where non-Muslims are allowed inside. I brought a scarf for my hair, but it wasn’t necessary. When we arrived, we were a bit startled at the price, which was twelve euros each. Kevin tried to use his student card, which is expired. It didn’t work, but they gave us a slightly reduced rate because we probably looked desperate and poor. The English speaking tour was too big, so we joined the French one. I understood most of it when I tried, which was hardly ever. I generally zone out on any and all tours.

So today was the last day of our trip. It was quite sad. But it wasn’t quite over. We had a flight to Madrid with Easyjet, and then 12 hours later (5:45 am Monday) we had another flight with Ryanair. This seems ridiculous, but I’ll explain later why it was good. So, we got a cab back to the train station and had another kafuffle with a taxi driver. Good thing our hotel guy was there because he made sure we got a taxi with a meter in it (most don’t run the meter so they can rip you off). We got to the airport easily. We did have a ridiculous check in woman, and the interaction between her, Kevin and I could have been an SNL skit. We arrived in Madrid on time. Earlier, Kevin had emailed some friends we have from Leeds who live in Madrid. One of them, Maria, and now the new favourite, got back to us and we had dinner and drinks with her. She is so generous and nice, it was such a good time. I can’t wait to see her again at Mauricio’s wedding! But anyway, we took the last metro back to the airport, “slept” there, and got on the plane. I guess it’s Day 17 now. Our flight landed in Beauvais airport, which is where Ryanair takes you when you are flying to Paris. The flight was 25 minutes early (unreal), however, the bus ride that was supposed to take 45 minutes, took 2.5 hours. Yay rush hour in Paris! Also, when we landed, we actually just walked into the ‘airport’ (barn) and then onto the bus. There was no security or passport control. WTF? Anyway, by this point, I was feeling quite ill. My lentil soup experience was still lingering and my head hurt and just an all around feeling of shittiness had overtaken me. So I called in sick to work and skipped school. I essentially took a personal day to recover from my vacation.

And that sums up my big trip. Things are completely back to normal now. I felt fine around Wednesday of last week when things began to…ahem… ‘solidify’. It was such a good holiday and it put me in such a great mood and was so much fun. Hope you enjoyed the account in its entirety.

Ciao
xo

PS Tunisia pics are up

Malta: The trip that didn't end

2008-03-14T18:21:00.004+01:00

Alright. So Malta. Malta is a tiny country that is comprised of three islands: Malta, Gozo, and Comino. It's also in the EU and just changed over to the Euro in January of this year. It is also cool in that aside from Maltese, everyone speaks English. It actually is pretty much warm England. They get a lot of English tourists, so all you can hear are British accents, and there are red telephone booths everywhere, and red post boxes. However, once you look up and past these things, Malta is one of the most unique places I've ever been. It has been influenced by so many different cultures. You can see it everywhere, from the architecture to the ancient ruins, and perhaps most noticeably, in the language. The Maltese language is insane. It is officially Semitic, but written with Latin characters, sounds like Italian on acid, and is completely incomprehensible. And so, here is my tale of my experience on Malta.

Day 6 -> February 28th
Apparently Kevin is a coin enthusiast. All he really wanted from Tunisia were some coins that had Arabic on them. However, to keep their currency stable, the Tunisian Dinar is not allowed outside of the country. So when Kevin had to change his money over to Euros, he cried (internally). After we flew to Malta (it's an hour flight from Tunis), I realized I had forgotten to change over some coins. I withheld them from Kevin (because I get off on that), but felt bad as the poor bugger was so sad that I gave him a couple. I may have made his life. Also, in the above paragraph I made an arrested development reference. I can't help myself.

So we arrived in Malta, hungry as always. We had to wait forever for the tourist information lady, but were presently surprised in the meantime to find that the airport food wasn't crazy expensive. We were worried that Malta would be really expensive because before the Euro, they were on the Maltese Lire, and it was worth a lot (1 euro = 2.33 ML), and the Euro tends to make things more expensive. It wasn't too bad though. We had accommodation every night for fewer than 20 euros, which is pretty good for Europe. Anyway, we found a place we wanted to stay in Valetta (the capital and main bus terminus). And it was here we experienced our first ride on a Malta Bus. Malta is apparently famous for its public transportation. Some of the buses are quite old, and they are all painted red and yellow. So the ride can be quite bumpy at times. It's really the only way to get around the island. Needless to say, we all loved the buses even though they could make you nauseous and make you wish you had worn a sports bra. Their only downfall was that they only went from Valetta and back. You could rarely find connecting buses between other spots on the island. So you had to leave and return to Valetta, EVERY time. It wasn't a big deal though. Most things were within a half hour of Valetta. Back to the story. So by the time we dropped off our bags and got our shit together, we decided to eat dinner. It was around 4:30pm at the time, but Valetta shuts down at 6:30. Basically everything. If it's open late, it's till 9.
Aaand that's it.

So we found this restaurant where yet another unfortunate occurrence happened: Kevin may have accidentally eaten meat. Kevin, for those who don't know him, is a vegetarian, like Missy. So this was a sad time for him. For one of the first times ever too, I had ordered something with meat in it. I usually go for the vegetarian option as well, so I couldn’t just give him mine instead. So Kevin was quite sad, but c'est la vie. Because Valetta closes so early, we bought some wine and chocolate, and hung around in the guesthouse we were staying in that evening. Fun times. And by fun I mean quite boring. But you do what you gotta do.

Day 7 -> February 29th
We stayed in Malta 6 nights. And we stayed at this guesthouse for 5 of them. The owner, Charlie, was really helpful and gave us a slightly reduced rate. At this point in our trip, perhaps the saddest thing occurred; it was the day we learned Missy would be leaving us. She was quite distraught over the loss of her wallet, and even before we left on the trip, she was worried about money, so she checked out flights to Paris, and booked one for the next Monday. It was sad to see her go, but she felt best about this decision. And we still had 2 or 3 days with her. And a week of just Kevin and I. Joy. But anyway, what was done was done. So we decided to check out some tourist sites. We went to see the State Rooms at the Grand Master's Palace. Malta has such a crazy history, that I really don't quite understand. I think when I come back, I'm going to read about it. These rooms were pretty cool. The Maltese Cross was everywhere, and we saw some suits of armour and some tapestries. Tapestries blow my mind. I have no idea how people can even plan to construct these things. Pretty nifty. Next, we took the bus to Marsaxlokk. Or something. It was wicked. I pretty much love the luzzus, or the small fishing boats they had. They were everywhere, and every time I saw one, it made me so happy. The sky was doing some crazy shit at that point, so when I put the pictures up, the lighting is kind of odd in some of them. Then we went to visit the Three Cities, which are opposite Valetta on the Grand Harbour. We got dropped off in Vittorioso and walked to Kalkara. Malta has such cool architecture. It looks really old, and is surrounded by thick walls, but is so modern and clean at the same time. They filmed some of Troy there, and it makes sense. It certainly looks like it could be a ancient city. Well I guess it is. Anyway. That evening we went to Paceville, because it was open later than 6. We weren't too much in a party mood (as we're always so poor) but we had some grub in the QUIETEST Italian restaurant ever. Nobody was speaking. It was so odd. Then we had a 'pint' in an old man's pub. Maltese pints were also funny. The local beer is Cisk, and because it's an island, I guess kegs aren't common. So you'd ask for a pint, and they would either 1) poor a tall can into a pint class for you 2) poor two small cans into a pint glass 3) or on one occasion, bring a pint glass to you, along with two bottles of beer. I guess because they get so many English tourists demanding pints (because they can't drink beer in any other denomination) this seems normal to them. It was funny everytime it happened. Which was often. We got beer as much as possible as it wasn't in ample supply in Tunisia, and we figured it would be the same in Morocco. We were right.

Day 8 -> March 1st
This day, we went to go check out the Rabat and Mdina (from the word medina, which I explained earlier). This was quite tiny as even though there was Arabic influence on the island, it disappeared a long time ago. Mdina was quiet and pretty. Pretty tiny. We walked to Rabat. We went into St. Agatha's catacombs there. St. Paul is the most important saint on the island, the story being that he got shipwrecked there and converted everyone to Christianity, but St. Agatha is highly respected as well. It's a staunch Catholic country. It's fairly evident in that every street corner has some saint or statue of Jesus popping out to say hello. But back to the story, Malta was pretty lax (much like Tunisia) with rules regarding safety or protection of ancient things. We were given free reign to roam around some of the catacombs. It was pretty cool. That day we decided to dine Maltese style and have a large lunch and a small dinner. Around 2pm, we returned to Valetta to try this restaurant that had a lot of vegetarian options. There was a menu that included a starter, main course, dessert, and free glass of wine. The main courses were all meat based, but we thought we could just substitute a vegetarian option, as they were actually cheaper and this is a normal practice. Which explains why we were all shocked when she said no.

She actually said No.

We were dumbfounded. Firstly, finding vegetarian stuff was kind of hard. Secondly, we weren't asking her to pick out meat from some sauce or prepared meal herself. And thirdly, it was actually cheaper to give us the vegetarian option instead. Still, it was a no. We almost left on principle, but again, vegetarian stuff was a bit harder to find, so we just ate in disbelief. To finish off the day, we went to St. Paul's Bay, which is supposedly where St. Paul was shipwrecked. It was a nice beach, but it was quite windy and cold at that point, so we took some pictures and headed home. Malta has a lot of beaches, so when the weather is nice, it can get quite busy. It was quiet around the time we went. Just us and the old people. Again.

Day 9 -> March 2nd
We decided to go to Gozo for a couple of days. Gozo is smaller and more quiet than Malta, and has a lot of undeveloped land. We lovingly called it Middle Earth. Because it was. But yes, we took an hour bus ride to the ferry port, and crossed the tiny strait. The buses on Gozo were ridiculous. The last bus every day I believe ran at 5pm. And then no more buses. It also has a main terminus that all buses come and go from. This was in Victoria. Oddly enough, there wasn't really any place to stay there, so we went to this town called Marselforn. It was only an hour walk. Gozo is TINY. Marselforn was right on the coast, and is largely a tourist town. I'm using the words 'town' and 'city' liberally when I describe places in both Malta and Gozo. It's more like, 'group of houses' in Gozo's case, and Malta is essentially one big city as opposed to a country. But I digress. Our guesthouse there was quite nice, and we might have been the only guests. While we were waiting for the bus to there, we met this nice, old Scottish man who taught us about the bus system. We had arrived too late to actually do anything we wanted to because of the buses, but we were able to see the Citadel in Victoria. It was amazing. It gave us such great views. Gozo, because it has very few inhabitants, is quite rich in natural beauty. It's just wicked coastline all around, with cliffs and grottos. So this was a good call by our creepy and overly nice guesthouse owner. He had suggested we go here. This was also the time we bid adieu to Missy. Her flight was the next day, so she had to leave us around 5:30 to catch the ferry back to Malta so she could get the bus to Valetta. Kevin and I waited outside the bus until she left.

And then there were two.

Day 10 -> March 3rd
Since the bus system was so ridiculous, we had to get up quite early and rush around to make sure we could see everything we wanted to. We had decided we were going to return to Malta that night because our accommodation there was cheaper, and Gozo, as pretty as it was, was quite boring in the evening. So we got up early to go see Dwerjra, which is basically a grotto. A wicked awesome grotto. We had to take a bus to a place near it and walk down. It was quite far down. Dwerjra was amazing. I loved it. I do have soft spot for grottos, so maybe that's why I loved it SO much . It was on the coast and because it was so windy, the waves were insane. I loved watching them crash against the rocks. It made you feel like you were at the edge of the world. I'm so lame. Anyway, we got there around 9:30. According to our interpretation of the bus schedule, there were buses from Dwerjra at 10:30 and 11:30. We needed to take the bus because taxis on Gozo and Malta are so expensive. And the drivers try to rip you off. So when the bus didn't come at 10:30, we got worried. I looked up at the giant hill we had climbed down and felt the heat of the day on my back and weighed my options: sweat profusely, or pay for a taxi? Turns out I'm a cheap bastard, and upwards we climbed back to Gharb so that we could make sure we got the bus. The bus did come at 11:30, and the first stop once we got on was in Dwerjra. So we climbed up for no reason. Better safe than sorry I guess.

That afternoon we went to go see 'probably the oldest freestanding structures in the world"; the il-Ggantija temples. They are older than the pyramids! They weren't exactly free standing (they had a bit of support) but they sure were old, and in decent shape. That day we also saw Calypso's cave. Calypso was the sea nymph from Homer's 'The Odyssey' that kept Odysseus as her love slave for seven years. It's next to Ramla Bay, which is quite beautiful in itself. The cave isn't that exciting, but it has a fantastic view and you could actually believe that this is where Calypso kept Odysseus captive. We then walked back to Marselforn, and grabbed our bags. We had a bit of time to kill, so we grabbed a Maltese pint. We saw our hotel guy around four times before we left a half hour later because there literally is NOTHING to do, and he was just wandering around. We caught the ferry back, and went back to the guesthouse we had stayed in before in Valetta.

Day 11 -> March 4th
So we were back in Valetta. We loved Malta, but we had been there a long time. We decided to go see some more old temples (I-Imnajdra and Hagar Quim) on Malta. We caught a bus to Qrendi, and walked down to the ancient sites...to find them closed. It wasn't that bad actually because we saved money, and the fence around them was wire and you could see through it. We sat on the edge of the cliff there and watched the waves for a bit. We also watched this goat herder for a long time. Like I said, the island was so modern, and then you would see that. We went back to the hotel shortly after because we had to get up early the next morning. Around 4am. Awesome. It actually worked out alright because we had been going to bed around 10 every night, so we got a decent night's sleep in. Technically this next story happened the next day (Day 12), but we had ordered a taxi to come get us at 4:30. Charlie had said it was going to be around 17 euros. This was expensive, but we didn't really have another option. When we actually got down to the taxi, the bastard said it was 30 euros! And we were screwed because there was no way to get another taxi, and they don't have meters. They have the rates posted at taxi stands, but we weren't near one. So anyway, this asshole ripped us off. Afterwards we found out it should have cost 15 euros. What an ass. I was SO angry and tired, and it was a really shit way to leave Malta. We had been ripped off in Tunisia (and Missy a bit more so) but never for as much. Anyway, aside from that guy, Malta was amazing.

My goodness, that was a novel as well. We'll have to see what I have to say about Morocco. The trouble is, I actually took notes of what I did this trip, everyday. That's why these are so detailed. It's kind of nice reliving it though. Also, the reason that pictures aren't up yet is that I'm waiting for Kevin's memory card. Have patience. If you need something to tide you over, I put up pictures of Karen’s visit.

Just Morocco left now.
xox

Tunisia: A Trip of Lessons Learned

2008-03-12T14:42:00.006+01:00

Hello everyone. So I'm back in Paris, bright eyed, and bushy-tailed. Well today at least. Monday, after checking in for my flight at 3:45 am, and arriving in Paris around 10:30 to then teach and go to school, I was not feeling as great. So I took a personal day of rest to recuperate from my vacation. And now I'm back and ready to go. I thought I would take advantage of my good nature today to write a post, as I've been receiving subtle, but demanding requests that I better write one, and soon. So because the trip was quite long, I'm breaking it up into countries. Today's post will concentrate on Tunisia. This post will most likely be the longest as it really taught us a lot and was quite eye opening into more adventurous travel. So without further delay, here is our experience in Tunisia.

Day 1 -> February 23rd
We arrive in Paris Orly, which is another airport in the south of Paris. As we are standing in the queue, this woman approaches Kevin and asks if he can take an extra 5 kilos of her luggage with him. You see, airports warn of this, but we didn't think it actually happened. So we said no, as we're not idiots. Just as we were checking in, the police came up and demanded that the check in be closed. Luckily our check in lady rushed us through, so we weren't delayed. We thought the police closed it because of the woman, but we really only understood the French for suspicious baggage over the loudspeaker. This was within an hour of leaving our flat that all this went down. So the flight was delayed, but we arrived in Monastir, Tunisia safely. Missy and I aren't that comfortable with our French, which is the language most commonly spoken in Tunisia aside from Arabic, so we sent Kevin through first. We were good to do this as it turns out there was a problem. We didn't have accommodation booking prior to arriving and this is apparently a grave offence in Tunisia. People were called over, and Kevin was led away. We tried to follow him, but we were told, "one is enough". I was expecting Kevin to return slightly bloodied or be missing for three hours. Turns out he was given priority treatment at the accommodation booth and booked out accommodation with an official guard. We got in a cab and paid 20 dinar, which is around 10 euros. Turns out we were ripped off hugely, but we had no idea at the time. He brought us to our hotel, which was right on the beach, and was gorgeous and so cheap (20 euros between 3 of us). Because we got in late, we just ate dinner (also cheap and endless it seemed). Then we went back to the hotel to sleep.

Day 2 -> February 24th
We were only in Monastir one night. We left the hotel kind of early and saw the Rabat, which is kind of a fortress, and a mausoleum. We wanted to go ride camels in the desert, so we booked a train for Tozeur. It took seven hours. We got second-class because we're cheap. When we first got on, it was packed, but people got off pretty soon after and we were all able to stay together. One thing about Tunisia is that we all had to get used to being stared at. A lot. For uncomfortable amounts of time. For example, over an hour for the last leg of our trip. But we found a place pretty easily and had a great dinner at le Petit Prince. We even had wine, which is harder to find in Arabic countries. We went to sleep in our even cheaper hotel, but missy found herself feeling some aftereffects of her meal. It didn't last long though, and she was fine the next day.

Day 3 -> February 25th
This is one of the best days of the trip, nay, my entire life. We had rented a taxi to drive us into a neighbouring town to take what is called the Red Lizard Train. It's a restored late 19th century train that takes you through the desert and mountains. We got in the taxi, and it was filthy. Missy got, which was henceforth affectionately known as a ‘dirt stache’ because of this. It is literally what it sounds like. Also, seatbelts were non-existent this entire trip. No need to panic now mom, it's done and everyone is fine. This taxi also was not in the best of shape. The speedometer was broken and it was loud as hell. Aaand then it started smoking. And then shut down completely. So we were stranded. Our driver then hailed another cab, took out one of the passengers, and we piled in. He took us to the train while our driver tried to get his car fixed. Before this, we hadn't really seen any tourists. Well, let me tell you, when we reached this train, we found all of them. This trip also had a theme of old people on fancy tours. This is not a common month for young kids to be travelling, and we really saw this. Anyway, the train ride was amazing. It went through the Seldja Gorge. You'll just have to wait for pictures. When we were done, our driver was waiting for us. His taxi was dunzo, so he got us a louage (shared taxi) which he also came in because he was car-less. This guy dropped us off in the square, and then our driver found another taxi to take us back to the hotel. And our day was only half over.

Next up, we hired a 4x4 to take us through the Sahara Desert. We started off with camel rides. This was pretty cool. Not something I’d rush to do again, but cool nonetheless. Missy was not a big fan. So this child was leading Kevin and I, and this other guy was leading Missy. After we passed a hill, all of these women appeared. I thought nothing of it. Until they started following us. So we walked with the camels, and then we got off to run around in the desert. The sun was quite strong, but it wasn't disgustingly hot. At this point we were swarmed by these women who had stuffed camels and bracelets. They would not accept no for an answer and kept yelling 'one dinar'! I literally had no coins on me, so I couldn't do anything. Kevin pulled out his change to see what he had, and that was immediately taken. They left us alone after we wandered for a bit. We mounted our camels again, except for missy. She opted to be harassed on foot instead of riding the camel. She's a trooper. We then got back in the car and drove all around the desert. We saw a ton of mirages. The salt and the sun make it look like water, even though you knew there is none. We also drove up and over dunes. This was wicked. Again, Missy was not such a big fan. Oddly enough, we drove to Tatooine. For those of you who actually have lives and don’t know this, Tatooine is Luke Skywalker's homeworld. Turns out it was filmed in Tunisia and the sets were never taken down. So that was odd. It looks almost exactly as it did in the movie, just worn down. Nearby, there were also remnants of some scenery from the English Patient. The desert was really cool, and one of the best parts of the trip. We didn't have much time left, so we got a night train to Tunis. We bought a ridiculous amount of bread and cheese and got on around 8:30pm. It wasn't a sleeper train, and the lights were never turned off, so it was a delicious ride. There was a baby crying for a good five hours. This drove Kevin particularly insane, as he has to listen to it every day in his apartment. We then arrived in Tunis at 5 am.

Day 4 -> February 26th
The thing about arriving in Tunis at 5 am is that nothing is open and there is no way you can check in to a hotel to get rid of all your bags. So we found a cafe and had some coffees. I think it was less than 3 euros for everyone and we all had croissants, coffee, and juice. We were still on Parisian pricing. We stayed here until 6:30, or until the sun was up enough for us to wander around. We walked to the medina, which is always the oldest part of any Arabic city. All the souks (marketplaces) were closed, as it was only 7 am. As we walked a bit down the alley, and then came back, Missy noticed a guy yell something at us in Arabic. I thought he was just yelling, and Kevin wasn't paying attention. Two minutes later, he came back and SPIT on us. Spit on Missy and I mainly. It got in my hair. We were grossed out, but found a cafe again to sit down in not far away. At the time I saw this random guy walking buy and he looked angry at this transaction. So as we were waiting for our juice I saw him talking with another person on the street. And then missy noticed that a cop was chasing the spitting guy. Then we all noticed that the cop then had the spitting guy in his hand and was walking towards us. He stopped and asked if we wanted to press charges. This was in French, and we didn't really know what he was saying. The cop repeated it, and the guy said that he's sick in the head. The cop then turned to him like he was going to hit him, and the guy cringed. So I quickly said no, we don't want to press charges, and then this guy was lead down a street. The cop returned by himself a couple of minutes later. It wasn’t even 8 am yet.

So we left the medina and looked for a hotel in the French quarter. We dropped off our stuff and went back into the Medina to look at the souks. That was an experience. People try to guess what nationality you are. We got a lot of English, German, Dutch, and Swedish once, and so on. When I said Tunisia was a learning experience, these souks were a large reason as to why. We knew we had to haggle, and that wasn't a problem really. We did get ambushed by this one guy, who chatted us up and wouldn't let us leave his shop without buying something. Kevin kind of got stuck on this one. Missy and I had left, and Kevin was trying to leave, but the guy would throw the thing in his pocket and just be shady like that. He eventually paid for it, around 5 dinar, which isn't a big deal, but I was pretty upset. The guy was rude to me after awhile. I may have overreacted, but I was angry at the time. So we tried to find our way back to the hotel and got horribly lost. Nothing is labelled, and the streets are chaos. We eventually found our way out of the souks, and found ourselves close to a metro stop. We wanted to go to this town called Sidi Bou Said, so we thought we'd take the metro. This also isn't well marked, so we got lost, again. We were tired and cranky by this point, and just took a cab to the city. It was quite pretty, and also filled with tourists. It reminded me of Greece. We wandered around and I paid too much for some prints. We tried to wait for sunset, but were too tired and just went home. The highlight of the day was that for dinner, we each had a sandwich, fries, and a drink for 3 euros combined. This made us feel better. We were all so tired, so we went to bed around 9pm.

Day 5 -> February 27th
A solid 12 hours later, we all woke up. We went to go see the mosque in the medina. In most mosques, non-Muslims are not allowed in, so we were able to take pictures of the outside. We were slightly ripped off, again, because the mosque guy said he could take us to see a view of Tunis. We thought the mosque guy wouldn't be too shady, but we were wrong. Hopefully the mosque got some of that money. We didn't really get ripped off in a huge way (yet). Just the fact that it was constant and no one was ever pure in his or her motives was frustrating. Anyway, the view was nice and we hung around up there for a while. We felt we were owed something, so we stole some tiles. I'm going to get my 3 dinars worth, dammit. After this, we went to Carthage. To anyone who has studied ancient history, that name should ring a bell. The city of Carthage still exists, but the Romans basically destroyed any remnants of the city when they came. Still, it was cool just being there. We wanted to save money, so we decided to take the metro again. This time we got on at the train station, so it was less confusing. We went into some Roman Baths while in Carthage. They were well intact, so that was quite interesting. We took the metro back. And this was the low point of the trip. We got on with a bunch of school kids at the stop. It was rammed. Kids were actually hanging out of the train. The tram operates even when the doors are open. So literally, I mean kids were hanging out and off the tram. After two stops, it became less crowded, so we moved down a bit. When we got off at the train station, missy realized her wallet had been stolen. It was complete shit. So we got back on the tram to go and look to see if she left it anywhere, or if someone threw it away after taking the money. We didn't find it. Some man, an undercover cop, started speaking with Kevin, and Kevin explained the story. He told us to go back to Tunis to fill out a report. Another tram came, and it was rammed. This guy then went to the first class car (they have first and second class everything) and literally yanked kids off the train so we could get on. He also put a 'guard' with us.
So.
Odd.
Anyway, this giant Tunisian man was with us for a while until we got off again to do a ground check. We found nothing and returned home, dejected. Missy called and cancelled her credit card and bankcards, which was another hassle in itself.

And that was how we ended out trip in Tunisia. It was honestly a trip of highs and lows. You could experience something so cool, and then so terrible within minutes of one another. Anyway, it certainly hardened us for the trip. I'm glad we went though. I don't regret it. It made us better travellers, and obviously, left me with a lot of stories to tell. Sorry about the novel. Honestly, Malta and Morocco were comparatively a lot less eventful, so you won't have to read acres of writing.

Will write about Malta next
ciao (or caw as it's written in Maltese)

"i think morty's gonna like ya, brooke"

2008-02-20T16:54:00.003+01:00

so. my dear friend karen was here to visit over her reading week. she arrived to amazing weather. i'm not sure where it came from, but here in paris we were experiencing what was seemingly endless sunshine. it lasted for at least two weeks. of course today, it's raining like a bitch outside, but we had a nice run. good for karen anyway.

so she arrived friday in the morning. i was at work, so missy was kind enough to meet her on the metro platform. i arrived home a couple of hours later and after rousing a groggy, slow-moving karen, we did a bit of the tourist thing. we saw notre dame as it's close and walkable. that night, being the nice host i am, i dragged my sleep-deprived friend out to one of our haunts here, the gent. she managed to stay awake and make several friends at the bar. it was here she created the now beloved 'morty', her italian cousin from new york. he stuck around throughout the entire trip. just to reiterate, morty is not a real person.

saturday we made our way up to montmartre with kevin and his friend alessandra, who was visiting for the weekend. we got to see moulin rouge as well. that night we stayed in and also did some drinking. we managed to thoroughly destroy ourselves that night and most of the next day. we did manage to find it in ourselves to lay in front of the eiffel tower for a couple of hours and wander around the champs elysee as well. antonin was kind enough to invite us all for dinner at his place and we got to check out his new room. it was quite nice.

monday, i had to work in the afternoon, so karen went to the louvre. she seemed quite content when she came home, so i was quite pleased. she was supposed to go skiing these two days, but it didn't work out. i think she made up for it quite nicely.

i had to work all day tuesday, so i suggested to karen that she take a trip out to the chateau versailles for the day. to say she had a good time would be to grossly underestimate her feelings about the trip. she told me it's a 'must see' but that i should wait for spring to 'see the gardens'.

i was off from work wednesday and thursday, so karen had my full attention. kevin was kind enough to guide us in a tour around Pere Lachaise cemetery. he really is the unofficial tour guide. he's been there a lot for various reasons/visitors. after we had gelato, which was magnificent. we also went out for dinner for a pre-valentine's day meal.

thursday we did some serious shopping. karen bought some presents for her parents and herself. we actually spent most of the day shopping, which i found surprising. karen also treated me to lunch. she was quite the enjoyable guest. we also ended up at the louvre somehow, so we wandered around there for a little bit outside.

friday it was back to work for me (well i had to go to school. some teachers were on strike, so they closed the school for students. unfortunately the staff who weren't on strike still had to go. so i sat around and played sudoku.) Karen went to the eiffel tower to go up it. unfortunately for her, it was the shittiest day of her visit (shittiest meaning no sun and some fog), but it wasn't bad. we went out again that night. we tried to do it proper parisian style, aka going out at 12 and catching the first metro back at 530 am. needless to say, i was feeling quite tired by the end of it. i was up at 7 friday morning, so it was a solid 24 hours for me. we went up in the north of paris though, to go out (around moulin rouge) which was new for me, so that was good. and it was a fun night.

eventually on saturday, after we got up, karen and I went to montparnesse tower, which gives you a great view of the city, including the eiffel tower. it was sunny as well, so we were able to take some nice pictures. we went to my friends that night to watch a film. it was papillon. it was a solid two and half hours and i think all of us were overtired, so the length was a bit painful, but it was a good film.

sunday was sadly karen's last day in paris. we went to luxembourg gardens and met up with missy for a coffee later in the afternoon. she left early monday morning.

so that was my past week in a nutshell. i think karen had a good time. i will post pictures at some point. most likely it will be after i get back from my trip, so i'll put up a bunch then. i have to go to school now and then a concert afterwards. i have one more day of work and then i leave on saturday!

talk soon

xo

post no.1 of a million

2008-02-18T21:51:00.004+01:00

well that is clearly an exaggeration but this month has been insane already and we're only half way through it. here i was before, limping along doing the sh*t i do, content in my routine. and then BAM! Attack of Interesting Things. Mainly it is these five things

1) it's back to just missy and i in the flat again
2) i started class
3) KAREN came to visit
4) visitors a plenty this week
5) i'm going to AFRICA on saturday

phew. no big deal or anything, but i'm tad overwhelmed.

so i'll just concentrate on the class. it in itself would have just been its own post, so i'll keep it that way.

so i started french lessons. it's taught entirely in french because there are nationalities from all over there, so really, the only common language is french. we didn't do much today, just talked a bit and she explained the course to us. i think i'll like it. i may even learn something new! i seem to always find myself in french class relearning the same damn things (aka in Quebec). so i'm excited to tackle new french grammar topics. that might possibly be the coolest sentence anyone has ever uttered.

the school itself is located around pere lachaise, which may sound familiar to some as a parisian landmark. that is indeed the cemetery where mister jim morrison (among others)is buried. so i give my respects to jim with a quick wave, and then i make my way to get my learnin on. it is truly magical.

missy's parents are up this week, and one of our friends here has some people over. my dear friend karen just left, but that will be at least one post in itself. (most likely just one post due to the laziness/busy-ness of this week).

that's it for now. i didn't get much sleep this week so i might head to bed early. got a big day of laundry coming up. try not to be too jealous.

xo

update 2

2008-02-03T17:32:00.000+01:00

so here is a quick update.

1) I've signed up for French lessons. They start next week. Well, I have to take a test to see what level I'm at, but I'm pretty excited. Missy is also taking them, but on a different day. Silly schedule conflicts. Kevin is not taking them because he is pretty much captain french already.

2) The French government is still requiring me do a bunch of paperwork so that I can qualify for them to give me money. Honestly, by the time I'm finished with all the bureaucratic paper shuffling I will be back in Canada.

3) My friend Mauricio (the crazy Mexican) is getting married in July! And then moving to Canada for a Masters! What that means for you lovely people is that you'll be seeing my ugly mug, at the latest, in early July. Permanently after mid July. Or at least until I decide to bugger off again somewhere. I may also be home in June. We shall have to see. So I guess in early summer, prepare yourself for The Return.

4) My dear friend Karen is coming to visit Friday. It will be my first time being a proper tour guide in this fair city, so I'm pretty stoked. Should be an excellent time.

5) I did another photo update. It's of buildings again. When I get friends, I may post up some pictures of them. Kidding. I'll never have friends.

Here is a preview:

6) That's all for now. I'll check in later.

7) ciao

8) p.s. Sarkozy married his oppurtunist of a girlfriend. Is this news there? What a guy. Knocking up supermodels within a month of meeting them. Such a rockstar.

photo update

2008-01-27T15:04:00.000+01:00

so i just completed a minor photo update. i added more to the out and about folder, and some of one of my schools. enjoy

aaand i'm back

2008-01-16T17:00:00.000+01:00

so i'm back again in gay paris. i've been back just under a week. it's pretty warm here right now. rainy and shitty. it's supposed to get up to around 15 degrees tomorrow and the next day. pretty much the same weather that i left in canada.

the flight here was pretty good. kevin had a neck pillow, which i was very jealous of, but i had a window which didn't work out as well as i hoped when it came to sleeping. the flight was a good three hours shorter than when we flew back to canada. that was glorious. my in-flight meal was so terrible. i think it was cereal? anyway, it was warm and odd and all around unpleasant. we got back into our flat around two pm thursday. we all made pacts that we would not nap and try to fix our sleeping patterns. i tell you, trying to stay awake with nothing to keep your focus was one of the hardest things i've ever done. i did it though. missy and kevin failed.

i went to work friday. i didn't have any classes for three hours because one teacher is always scheduling tests when i'm there. i have seen one of her classes since i've started this job. she must only give them tests and never teach them anything.

this week is pretty busy. tomorrow and friday i have a lot of class to make up for the time i missed being home. i am in love with my travel mug. it keeps me caffeinated all day so that i can stomach the terrible french children. alright, they are not that terrible. just french.

this weekend i did not even leave the apartment. that is quite impressive i think. my goal was to fix my sleep pattern and i think i did, although i may have ruined it again just in time for my longest day ever.

so not really too much to report here. no real funny stories as i haven't really done anything exciting but work. we are trying to organize the rest of our trips. we realize now we're going to have to be a bit more realistic and selective when it comes to planning things. we should get on it soon though.

so that was my last week in paris. if you stayed awake throughout that bout of thrilling storytelling then i'll have more in store for you the next time.
ciao

home again

2007-12-14T19:19:00.000+01:00

Time has flown by. I am already coming home for Christmas. I leave in six days! Madness. Things have been going rather smoothly. I am into a nice routine with work and i finished the parisian portion of my christmas shopping which I am beyond thrilled about. For real. There were supposed to be transit strikes this week, but for some reason they were postponed or something. Awhile back I heard there was going to be a strike December 20 (the day I leave) but I haven't heard anything about that so hopefully there isn't one. Like I said, things are going well. For the most part. For some reason in these past few days, I have found myself in weird/stupid/awkward situations that I really shouldn't be dealing with anymore. I mean, they are rookie mistakes. Take yesterday for example:

1) I got on the wrong bus in La Celle St Cloud and ended up an hour late for work.

Depending on what school I go to means that I have to take a different bus. Both, however leave about 4 minutes after the train arrives. So I was standing there, waiting for the bus, and it was running late. I was supposed to go to the school that is uphill through the woods. It only takes about 13 minutes to walk it, but again, it's uphill and I have some problems with not sweating. So i opted to wait for the bus. The bus did get there about 10 minutes late, so I hopped on without checking where it was headed.

Mistake.

You see, at that stop there is a 27, 27b, and a 27c (i have no idea where A is). I needed to take 27c. What I ended up taking was the 27 and that took me OUT of la Celle St Cloud into Reuil or something. Great. So I was stuck in a random town. Which leads me to the second thing I should be able to do now.

2) Communicate to people in French.

Clearly my french accent is atrocious because it took me 15 minutes with 2 different people with me saying the same thing for them to understand.

Est-ce que ce bus va retourner à La Celle St Cloud?
Comment?
Je veux retourner à la gare de la Celle St Cloud.
C'est Reuil.
Non, je veux retourner à la gare.
La gare est là. (there was indeed a station there, however it was in REUIL).
Non, j'ai besoin retourner à la Celle St Cloud!
Vous parlez...
English
I don't speak english. They speak English.

At this point, the man drives me to information centre where I repeat my statement, which that person understands and directs me BACK to the bus where I had just gotten off.
Honestly. I need to work on my accent because all he needed to stay was "restez ici" or stay here.

I did make it into work, horribly late, and they didn't even care. So that was nice.

and finally today, this is just stupid. But

3) I tried to jump the metro gate and failed...miserably

This one I don't fully understand. So I followed an old lady and she was using a day ticket. I put my ticket in before she was through. THIS HAS WORKED EVERY OTHER TIME.

Not today.

So she got stuck. I put my ticket through again. All the while she is muttering in french to me, kindly, but incomprehensibly. So she started miming that I need to follow her through, or we need to go through together. I took a gander at both of our positions and realized it wouldn't work, but I tried it anyway.
It didn't work. and then neither did my ticket. You can't use it twice in a row at the same machine. And this is what the old lady realized before me. She started searching in her wallet to give me one of her day passes, but me, being the chivalrous girl I am, said "no merci" and made motions that I would just jump it, and commenced said process.

Trouble is, lady had gone back to looking for the ticket and was standing in the free space I was aiming for.

There was more trouble in that I didn't realize this until I was in the air. Nor did I remember that gloves make your hands slippery and make them rather ineffective at providing a stable grip for doing anything, such as hurtling oneself over a turnstile.

So I needed to abort the mission immediately mid-jump so that I wouldn't slide off and fall on my back or kick an old lady in the face.

The end resulted in my shin making contact with the metal bar, and lots of noise and general embarrassing things. But I learned my lesson. Just don't jump.
Anything.
Ever.

So those are some examples of how I get myself into trouble when I really REALLY should know better. At least by now. C'mon.

Despite these minor setbacks in becoming a true parisian, things have been great. I'm very exited to come home these holidays, but i'm also excited to know i get to come back here.

so the next time you hear from me will probably be in person!

joyeux noel

stirkes, and rioting, and public unrest, oh my!

2007-11-28T15:43:00.000+01:00

this is more of a courtesy post more than an informative or descriptive one. it is mainly to reiterate the point that

1)i'm not dead
2)plan to be dead due to political uprisings

i am, of course, talking about the rioting that has been underfoot in the suburbs of Paris. Mainly one suburb to the north. Way north. Ile-de-France, which is what the surrounding area, or the GPA if you will, is called. It is quite massive, housing at least 12 million people.

this is what wikipedia says is the size of the GPA

just lovely. here is a map symbolizing my proximity to what sarkozy calls "unacceptable" rioting. two days of shooting at police and setting things on fire, fine. it's france. but three days? this is just rude.

so you see, it's really not a big deal. i live in the heart of paris, properly called le marais, more commonly called 'the gay district'. so as long as the riots don't shut down fashion production or infringe on anything that is 'just fabulous', i think i'll be pretty safe in my neighbourhood.

à la bibilothèque

2007-11-25T20:05:00.000+01:00

this video sums up my life here in paris pretty succinctly. almost exactly in fact.

enjoy

strikes, je les deteste

2007-11-21T21:57:00.000+01:00

France is still paralyzed by strikes. Wait. That is not correct. It's not fully paralyzed, just severely maimed so that crawling is the only method of movement and staying still is not an option. During the last strike in October, I didn't have to go to work because transportation was shut down almost entirely. This was better because it was only two days. It's been a week now with barely any service. Now I have been fairly lucky in all this. The two lines I have to take to get to the train station for work are working relatively well. My train has been almost 45 minutes late on a couple of occasions, but never once did I fear for my life. Until last night.

I am, of course, exaggerating. But it was a pretty intense situation. I went to a concert last night in the north of Paris. As a sidenote, it was the band Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and they were fantastic. So I arrived in St. Lazare, the train station, from work. I was in the north already, so I didn't really think it was a problem to get to the concert. I had to make two transfers to the venue. With the first train, I lucked out. I jumped on a crowded train immediately with no waiting. The second train was another story. I got to the platform and it was pretty full. It was about 6:30 and I needed to be somewhere for 7:30. No big deal. Tons of time.

no.

the train came around 6:50. It was packed. Sardine packed. I'm second from the front of the platform, so I figured I was getting on. After 2 minutes of people just trying to disembark, all of a sudden what felt like a vacuum or a strong undertow overtook me and i got sucked away from the doors. Instantly, the train was packed. A metro worker came around to manually close the doors because people were hanging out. That train left, and I was still on the platform. Stupid me didn't check the actual address of the venue; i just knew the metro stop where I was meeting missy and phil. so walking wasn't really an option. i waited another 15 minutes and a train came. This time, I was getting on the train regardless. I ignored the fisticuffs going on near the other doors because people were fighting to get on and off and just maintained my focus on my goal; cramming myself on this already crammed train. So i jumped on and was barely in. Luckily, I got some help from the 10 other people that come on behind me so I was wedged in nicely. I am not exaggerating about the close proximity. This is what I was able to do whilst waiting for my stop.

1)Feel the physical motion of breathing from the man behind me.
2)Have my cheek pressed against a strangers face because someone was holding the pole in such a way that I has incapable of movement
3)Feel the ass muscles of the man in front of me flex continuously

Far too intimate encounters for the first meetings. I mean, I didn't even get dinner first.

At last, I did manage to get off the metro with fairly little hassle. It was probably similar to what it would feel like to be conscious during the journey through the birth canal. But i did get free with my person intact. Early too somehow. We managed to have 15 minutes to eat tasteless paninis in the rain before enjoying the opening act of very heavy french metal-rock, and having ourselves some expensive pints.

The concert was quite amazing. The actual place was wicked, and I had a really good time, despite a brief loss of consciousness. They played most of my favourite songs and they were really good live.

here is a picture of my boyfriend. I haven't gotten around to telling him yet though. i think he'll be cool with it if i tell my family we're soul mates and tattoo his name across my chest. who doesn't love crazy?

I will also add this picture phil took, because i think it looks cool. you should always do things if they make you look cool.

and those are my adventures with Parisian transit strikes. hopefully i will not have any more to tell. but i strongly doubt this.

to sarkozy, and the unions i say this:
je vous deteste
you flippin' asshats

strikes, ahoy!

2007-11-12T21:57:00.000+01:00

this is just a quick post to say the trains are going on strike. again. starting tomorrow evening. hopefully it will extend until friday because i don't feel like working. ever.

oh, and some students are on strike. i'm not sure why. but it means that sometimes the universities are shut down and they sit on rail lines to prevent trains from coming in. oddly enough no one ever seems to know why all this strike stuff is going on. and no outlets seem to be reporting it, but everyone knows when the strike will start. i need to find my way into this underground french information centre so i know whether or not i need to be waking up at 6:30 on friday morning. maybe it has something to do with being able to understand and speak french...

here's to hoping sarkozy keeps pissing off the union heads

Bordeaux

2007-11-08T21:01:00.000+01:00

Well, it’s back to work for me today. The vacation is over. France has random holidays all the time, which works out well for me. We just had a week and a half off. I didn’t do a whole lot. From Sunday to Tuesday, Missy and I went to Bordeaux. It’s about a 3-hour train ride. The ride there wasn’t the greatest. It was early in the morning and there were screaming children the entire way. Also, this old woman stole my window seat and I didn’t have the balls to tell granny to move it. I am out of practice lugging a backpack, so we set out to find accommodation immediately upon arrival. We found a hostel following some signs. Our hostel mate was a Scottish girl who grew up in Germany. She was quite nice.

Our first day in Bordeaux, Missy and I wandered around the city. Once you get away from the train station and a bunch of sex shops, the city is quite nice. We wandered around downtown and booked a wine tour for the next day. There was a little festival going on, so Missy and I were able to go on a Ferris wheel! And we had a giant chichi, which is a deep fried sugar stick. Mmmm healthy.

On Monday, as I said, Missy and I went on a wine tour. We went to a region close to Bordeaux called Blaye. We went to two chateaus. The first one explained to us how the wine was made. It was in English, but I still didn’t understand half of it. Then we got to taste both white and red wines. The price was a little out of our league to actually buy the wine. We don’t normally go above 3 euros (yes, it’s that cheap here). The second chateau was nice as well. The woman there explained to us about the vines. Then we had some Merlot. Again, it was out of our price range, but it was tasty. We got to see a lot of the French countryside. It’s really quite different from anything I’ve ever seen. Really pretty and picturesque.

On Tuesday, Missy and I again, as we did Monday morning, walked down the supposedly longest pedestrian shopping street in Europe. It was a bit dodgy near our end, but gets quite posh once you get more near the classy part, or the ‘Bourgeois’ part as our internet-setting-up French fellow described it. That day we went to St. Emilion. The train station is literally in the middle of nowhere (you will see in the pictures I’ll put up). So missy and I basically had a St. Emilion photo shoot walking in and out of town. It’s a pretty walk though, and it’s not that far. St. Emilion is a medieval town, much like Eze, which I visited in the south of France my first time around. It seemed more authentic though. We wandered around taking pictures, and we went on a tour of the underground monuments. The tour was in French but the guide spoke every language imaginable, so he would break off sometimes and explain it to us in English. Oh! My favourite part of the trip! Missy had read that the bell tower in the centre of town gives a nice view of the surrounding countryside. We couldn’t find a way in, so we asked at the information centre if we were able to go up. The guy hands us the bloody key to the ancient tower and charges us each a euro, telling us to lock the door behind us. So Missy and I were able to climb and play in this ancient tower by ourselves. It was quite bizarre, and possibly the best thing ever.

So it was a nice little break for us to get away. It did make me miss Paris though. I really love this city. We have no immediate travel plans, but Missy keeps talking about England, so we’ll see. Also, I’ll be home in no time. I get back on December 20, and I’m there until January 9th. I can’t believe how fast this is going!

Till next time

mes collèges

2007-10-25T20:58:00.000+02:00

I believe I’ve been here almost 4 weeks now, and I feel like I’m finally settling down into a routine. I’ve been at both of my schools now for a couple of weeks each, and I now know where most things are and how to get to them, which is quite key.

I work at two schools in the region of La Celle St Cloud. They are both collèges, which is basically a middle school. The kids are aged 11-15. Victor Hugo is my main contact school, and by far my favourite. They are always helpful, and laidback. Plus, it’s really easy to get to and the teachers are all nice. The students at both schools are just as I expected them to be…a slightly disinterested, highly fashionable mass of hormones that generally listen and rarely understand anything that I say. On the whole, it’s pretty good.

Now Pasteur, the other school, is a bit of a different story. It’s alright I guess, but it has its…drawbacks. Now I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but the main teacher I work with there is nothing short of a bitch. She is not nice to the students, makes me JUDGE their English, with them standing alone in front of the class (honestly, if I can understand what they are saying, that’s all that matters), and makes remarks about me not working. I don’t think she understands that I’m an assistant and have no actual teaching experience, and that learning a language does not mean perfection, but enough to communicate with others. Anyway, she is terrible. Sometimes she is not insane, but when she is, it’s not a good day. Also, the school is not at all convenient to get to. There is no direct bus, and to get there the fastest way, I have to walk uphill (and this is a steep climb) through a freaking forest. However, I think I have mastered the bus system so that I will always just be on time, which really, is good enough for me.

Aside from that rant fest, I really don’t mind it. The French education system is fairly different from Canada’s but I’m getting used to it. We have a holiday coming up starting Saturday for almost 2 weeks! Unfortunately for us, they have scheduled our medical visits (I can’t WAIT to see what that entails) right in the middle, but I think Missy, Kevin and I are going to try to visit Spain for a little bit. We shall see.

Everything else in Paris is going smoothly. We’ve had two weeks of beautiful weather, and hopefully this trend will continue aside from today.

Until next time,
Keep fit and have fun.
©KG™

photos

2007-10-20T17:55:00.000+02:00

hé kids

i've created a link to my photo site. it's on the right, handily under the links section called "my photos". i have developed an aversion to posting on facebook right now, so if i post photos, that is where they will be.

The only ones up are just some more of the apartment (by popular demand: aka joyce) so it's not too exciting at the moment. When you first click, it will say there is no content in the folder, but click on the sub album called "our apartment", and voila, pictures will appear.

enjoy

grève SNCF

2007-10-17T16:41:00.000+02:00

One of the things one must do when living in a foreign land is to try and experience as much of the culture as possible. Lucky for me, tomorrow I will be experiencing something so typically French, it basically makes me an automatic citizen…I will be getting a day off work due to a transit strike. That’s right. It’s my very first strike as a French employee! I feel like I’ve finally arrived. I have been waiting for one as I have been told that striking is as French as baguettes. I didn’t actually think it would arrive within three weeks of being here, but here we are. So tomorrow I’m going to sleep in and watch the thousands of cars and people that will be cramming the streets below, as they still need to get to where they are going because Paris doesn’t stop, only it’s transportation does.

Le sigh. God bless the French.

Le début

2007-10-05T17:43:00.000+02:00

Salut et bienvenue! Here it is, my first post from Paris. I have been in the country for almost two weeks now, but I didn’t have any time before now. It has been hectic, let me tell you.

The first week was mainly fixing our sleep patterns (we did not sleep on the way over) and trying to get some paperwork done. See, this takes awhile, because they like to send you away to send you back to send you away again. It is lovely. I still don’t have a bank account, but I can’t get that if don’t have other things, and so the circle goes.
This week was quite busy. I was at the school for at least 4 hours Monday, Tuesday, and Friday and with a two hour commute both ways, that adds up to a lot of time. Add a day and a half of training, apartment hunting, sharing a room with four other people, foraging for food and trying to find sleep, there wasn’t a whole lot of time to do anything else. Monday and Tuesday of this week were especially hard. Missy and I were searching for accommodation together and we had just been officially declined from two apartments, and hadn’t heard back from countless others, and if we did it was too expensive or in a sketch neighbourhood. Also, my bank card was not allowing any withdrawals, or anything, so money was starting to get tight.

BUT our luck turned around on Wednesday. I had been in contact with this one agency that I found on craigslist, but the apartment was only until February and the agent seemed reluctant to arrange a meeting so that we could see the place. On Wednesday though, the place was still available and we came to have a look and FELL IN LOVE. It was perfect. The owner said that a lot of people had been looking at it, so we thought we might be rejected again. So, when I got the call on Thursday morning that the place was ours, it’s safe to say that the word ecstatic did not do my mood justice. And when she told us that we could have it until May with the possibly of extension, well, you can imagine how I felt then. So here I am, in my two-room apartment on the seventh floor (without an elevator!) but a view that is too good to be true. Look, there’s Sacre-Coeur, the top of the Pantheon, the Montparness Tower, the towers of Notre Dame, and if you lean slightly out the window at night, the Eiffel Tower. Not too shabby for two Canadian Anglophones for just two weeks in Paris.

I kid. We know we are lucky bastards.

I have also started teaching, but that will be another post.
A bientôt