Le voyage en Grèce

As a little change from my France-based adfrenchures, this post is all about my time in Greece with the lyceé as part of their annual trip abroad. Hundreds of photos on Facebook to follow.

Before we landed on Greek soil, there was a gruelling 48 hour journey to endure via coach and ferry. Somehow I managed to trick myself into believing that we'd only be on the boat for a few hours rather than 26, so when I discovered this, considering I'm still scarred from the Titanic film, I was really not looking forward to it. So as I sat in my cabin awaiting my impending doom, I decided to sleep through it, managing to miss breakfast and lunch, and setting the precedence for my reputation as the sleeping assistant.

The city of Athens 

Against my expectations, we survived the journey and arrived to snow-capped mountains at Patras, before moving on to Olympia to start day 1 of our tour of the country. I have to say, considering this is a city that most probably depends on the trade of tourism, I didn’t really rate it. The streets were full of potholes and there were empty sandbags and other things just left out on the main site, which kind of ruined the atmosphere a bit for me. Nevertheless, we had a guide with us, who managed to redeem these factors, by delivering the fascinating history of the place, such as the many stories about the Greek gods, and the birth of the Olympic Games.

View from the hotel room on the last morning

Throughout the week we passed through many other towns and cities including Mystras, Athens and Delphi, to name a few. As I said, I found the history and mythology all quite interesting (even though we spent lots of time looking round churches which didn’t hold my attention for long), but the thing that struck me most about Greece was the incredible views that surrounded the main sites, something which I really hadn’t expected.

For a school trip I actually ate some incredible food. Once we’d passed the first few days of a strictly chicken and chips diet and moved further down Greece, we were able to taste a few of the national dishes such as Moussaka and a proper Greek kebab (immense), as well as the standard salads packed with olives and feta cheese. Dessert was a little disappointing though as apparently Greece has a serious overpopulation of oranges. We were sent away with bags of them, and once you had finished one at the table, it had slyly been replaced by a fresh one, moments later. It’s safe to say I’m sticking to bananas and apples for the next month or two.

Corinth canal

With each meal, in fitting French style, all of the teachers insisted on having an ‘aperitif’ before we ate, whilst we waited for all of the pupils to finish. I didn’t know this, but Ouzo is Greek, so this was of course the drink of choice. On the first night, I was incredibly cocky with my student mentality, recalling stories of all the Sambuca shots I do on a standard night out, and seeming to think that the two were practically the same. So I joined in on the order, with my double ouzo, which everyone downed right away. As soon as I took a sip however, my throat seemed to catch on fire, so I was forced to slowly sip the rest, which was rather embarrassing after all of my claims. Turns out Greek Ouzo is a little stronger than the normal stuff. France – 1; Britain - 0. I decided to stick to beer after that, which is apparently all we Brits ever drink anyway, so conforming to the stereotype was the easier option all round.

So, to give a brief summary of everything else that happened/the trip as a whole: The food and hotels were amazing considering it was part of a cheap school package; the weather was crap; my photos mostly include the remains of buildings; I managed to embarrass myself copious times (you can add to the list sober dancing on the last night on the ferry); but most importantly I managed to speak French non-stop for a whole ten days! The teachers and pupils were incredibly patient and taught me lots of new vocab (I now know the translation for arse hole, which was an amusing concept to see explained) and above all I got complimented a lot on my ability. Turns out the English accent is apparently ‘cute’. Good to know. So all in all, it was a pretty successful week.

For those of you that don’t already know, I’m leaving France on 20^th April, which means this will be my penultimate blog (unless I decide to blog about my trip to Disneyland in June) so there won’t be much more of my crap chat to put up with.

See you all very soon!

Blog time no see

Yet again, I've slipped slightly off the bandwagon with this blogging business, and as I'm on my way back to England again for the penultimate time, there's rather a big gap to fill. As ever though, I shall do my best to be brief.

For those of you that speak to me on a more regular basis, you may know that the first few months here weren't the easiest. The location, combined with poor public transport, and an average population age of about 60 made it a little hard to assimilate. But this time round has definitely been the busiest and best so far. I became the token English at the local badminton club that runs every Tuesday, and have been adopted by a few French families, as well as the standard weekly trips to Lyon, which has all kept me fairly busy. Oh and I sometimes do a bit of work here and there...

So yeah, la vie est belle en France at the moment which has taken my mind off missing friends and family and all the home comforts. I do have one complaint, however. The emerging of a social life has meant that I've been put in rather awkward situations on a regular basis. Why? Two words: European kisses. I had one particularly awkward incident with a teacher in the staffroom a few weeks ago, who came to greet me in said way. As he leaned in for the kiss, I recoiled a little, completely forgetting, and once I realised and went in for the kiss too, it was too late as he'd already pulled back. This resulted in some kind of pigeon-like head dance which must have looked really strange to anyone else in the room. And then there's the times when neither one of you go quite far enough to touch cheeks, and then overdo it and end up giving each other more of a Scottish kiss than a European one. Even when you're in a group of people, and you don't know all of them, you're expected to do it to each person. I know I'm not socially inept so I'm going to say it's my Englishness which makes me dread this so much. Or just the fact that I always seem to make it incredibly awkward in my forgetfulness. A good old-fashioned 'bonjour' definitely suits me better.

Aside from that, things are definitely running smoothly, and people have been regularly commenting on my good level of French, which is a huge confidence boost as I only have another 6 weeks after the holidays to improve. With that in mind, next term I'm going on the school trip to Greece for 10 days, so English won't be an option. Although I am missing St. Paddy's day celebrations at the expense of this, so I may have to convince the teachers to have a little drink with me on the ferry, or just sneak off and ride solo. So yeah, with that and a potential trip to Montpellier on the cards, I've got a lot to look forward to during my final stint in France - an incredibly surreal concept!

I'll be back in England for the next 2 weeks so I will probably see you most of you around!

À bientôt!

P.S The hunt for snails and frogs legs continues...

Getting into the spirit

So, as Fran pointed out to me the other day, it’s been almost a month and a half since I last blogged! It’s about time I updated you all on my life in an instalment which promises to certainly be bigger and better than before!

So for two of these 6 weeks I was back in the motherland enjoying consuming my weight in food and alcohol almost daily, indulging in the home comforts that I’d missed so dearly! I spent most of my time in Leicester where it was dominated by my loved ones, hockey and getting utterly smashed on the regular. It was as if I’d never left! But of course, quicker than it’d take me to fall flat on my arse in Red Leicester, it was time to go back to France.

Notre dame de Fourvière

Leaving everybody again was ridiculously hard, but once I was back, I decided to just get on with it and that keeping myself busy would help time fly. Although I still haven’t succeeded in achieving the jam-packed lifestyle of an explorer in a different country, I have managed to experience quite a lot of new things. The last 3 weekends have been spent in Lyon. Each time I go I become even more lost but consequently even more in love with the place! I may not necessarily know where I am half the time, but I’ve successfully managed to stumble across the free zoo, parc de la tête d’or, and see some elephants and tigers (which I definitely didn’t expect); visit the beautiful buildings at the top in Vieux Lyon; and shop in one of the biggest shopping centres I’ve ever seen. Despite this, the quest for snails and frogs legs continues. I’m not exactly sure why I’m finding it so difficult because, as my students tell me, you can apparently find them everywhere. Perhaps it’s my student-on-a-budget attitude that naturally veers me away from any classy establishments willing to provide me with these national delicacies!

Despite the visit from my lovely boyfriend (who travelled at 4am in the morning to see me after a day full of hockey and a night out cross-dressing for hockey funds…), the highlight of my term so far has been meeting even more new people. Again, when waiting at the bus stop after a day in Lyon, I was surprised to see one of my pupils, a student from Belgium who is here until December to improve her French. We’re both in quite similar situations, and after chatting all the way home, she invited me to meet her French host family for lunch the next day. I willingly accepted and spent the afternoon speaking lots of French (rather than just the usual passing conversation), consuming even more cheese and wine and just enjoying some really great company. Coincidentally, the father of the family has a sister that lives in Leicester, so conversation was very easy and when I left I was told that I was welcome any time. That chance meeting at the bus stop opened up a lot of opportunities for me, and gave me another glimpse of French culture at its very core - the family life.

 

Getting into the festive spirit has been a little been harder this year. Whereas usually I would have already donned the Christmas onesie and santa hat, and sung each Christmas song to beyond exhaustion, I’ve only gone as far as a Christmas jumper this year – a huge step back for me. But the French don’t really over-commercialise the event like in England. Their shops and streets have only really been filled with decorations rather recently and the Christmas fayres give it a more traditional air which I quite like. I went to explore my town today and witnessed the set-up of tonight’s events which include some kind of light spectacle at the Abbaye and of course a fayre. I tried the French version of mulled wine, vin chaud, which was beautiful, and had a quick gander at the stalls while classic Christmas tunes were being blasted from speakers all over the village. I think it’s safe to say that this little trip out, the glacial weather, and the promise of the events tonight has finally put me in the spirit! Now all I can think about is getting home and stuffing my face with mince pies and turkey. Mmmm! 

What a difference a day makes

Okay so it’s been a few weeks since I last updated my blog, but that’s because so much has happened that I’ve barely had a second to take it all in! Well, that and the fact that all the crappy TV I watch obviously takes precedence over writing about my life. So, I’ll do my best to compress the events of the last three weeks in just a short few paragraphs…

My first days at school were supposed to be centred primarily around observation, to get a feel for the level of ability and maybe even to get to know a few names before I started teaching myself. But within only my second hour, I found myself with a class of 10-15 pupils, prompting them to ask me questions about my life, but even the initial idea sent a shock to the system – what if they don’t understand me?; what if they run out of things to say?; or even worse, what if they don’t say anything at all? Although I faced all of the aforementioned problems within the first lesson, I handled it well, and as the week progressed and I’d exhausted the story of my life, the teaching environment began to feel incredibly natural to me. I’ve already learned a lot about my own history through their European classes; taught a lot of lessons of my own, on topics of my choice; and discovered some of the English stereotypes - apparently we’re badly dressed with a weird sense of humour and terrible food; but we like our tea, red buses and fish and chips … they’re half right I guess? Also on the point of lessons, it seemed never to occur to me that lessons equal planning, which equals work in my own time – this was this the biggest revelation, and has so far resulted in some stressful, last-minute attempts the night before each class. I guess I’m still a little stuck in my uni ways after all.

The main reason for not having updated my blog is actually because a few weeks ago I was reintroduced to something called a social life, and it in fact came about in rather a strange way. I was sitting at the bus stop after having a bit of a fail of a day in Lyon with Fran (I had to pay for my train tickets twice, we spent most of the day being very lost, and then made our last trains home with only seconds to spare), and I was reading on my kindle when this girl who had just sat on the bench next to me started a conversation, intrigued by the fact I was reading in English. I told her about my situation and that I was struggling to get to know people in my area, and she told me about the assistants at her school, a forty minute bus journey away. Many ‘YAY’s later, I gave her my details, and within a few days I got a call from the English assistant. I met up with him and the other assistants from Spain, Italy, China and Germany on the Friday and spent the whole weekend with them which was great! For once, I wasn’t spending time in my room just reading, watching tele or begging people for skype sessions. It’s strange how life works sometimes!  My next mission was to catch up on the weeks without alcohol, which I did successfully on the Saturday night in the form of many tequila shots and vodka lemonades (which is actually just a drop of lemonade and crap loads of vodka). I ended up chatting to this French girl outside (how I got from dancing to that is still unknown to me) and she invited me and my friend back to her house with a few other people, where we sat chatting and drinking even more til 6am. Unfortunately, there was a tomorrow, and I definitely paid for it. I'm not proud of having to TC at 10 at night, and having to pass on an invitation to a teacher’s house for dinner. Not my finest hour to say the least.

After almost a month of living here I’ve found myself assimilating pretty well. I’ve even adopted some of the French ways: drinking hot chocolate out of a bowl (which makes so much sense – you can fit in way more than in a mug!!); drinking black coffee, which I would have once regarded as sacrilege; and finally eating a mini five course meal at lunch – a bit of salad, bread, small main meal, yoghurt and fruit fills you up for so much longer than one huge meal and it stops you from wanting to snack. You rarely find an overweight French person! I’ve also been paid one of the biggest compliments I could ask for – apparently my French has already improved loads in the last few weeks! Again, a ‘yay’ probably wasn’t the most normal response, but who cares?! I still haven’t got my head round the obsession with shops only being open Tuesday-Saturday, but being closed between 12 and 2 every day, and I’m still in search of a restaurant that will feed me snails and frogs legs (when in France!), but all in all, things are running very smoothly right now. I’ve managed to get some photos up on Facebook for anyone that hasn’t already seen, and it’ll be another few weeks until I do my next blog as I’m back in England on Friday for two weeks (yay!).

Until next time!

You can take the girl out of Britain...

Getting round to writing this week’s post has been a bit hard, as the task of compressing the events of the last 5 days to a sizeable length hasn’t been too appealing, but I’ll do my best to be brief on here!

I’m going to be honest; the day of travelling was a nightmare from start to finish. I had to stand up all the way from near Derby to Gatwick, despite reserving a seat, with people awkwardly having to climb over my 40 kilos of luggage every 2 minutes to go to the toilet, but fruit ninja helped to pass the time so that part wasn’t too bad. The flight went well and I arrived safely in Lyon, but that’s when the real problems started. I followed the signs out of the airport towards what I thought was the sign for the train, pretty confident in my own organisational skills and optimistically believing that all I had to do now was get on this train. I was very wrong. Before I reached what I thought was the train station, I faced my first real challenge – getting down the escalator with all 3 of my bags safely, as the lift was typically broken. I got on, and as the step came up, my 20 kg suitcase fell down a few, taking me with it. I managed to hold on though, but not without letting out a big yelp which made them look up at me disapprovingly! What felt like a near-death experience pretty much prefigured the rest of the journey, as I got told that my train was in fact a half an hour tram ride away, then I got lost at the train station trying to find my platform, and ultimately I was over an hour late meeting my tutor who had come to pick me up. Not quite the first impression I’d hoped for. Despite being unable to compose a sentence in either language, I was kindly taken to her house for dinner, before going onto my ‘studio’. The place is modest; it has a small kitchen in the same room as my bedroom and a little en-suite – everything I need is here, although having only one sink to wash both my face and my dishes in is still a little weird.

For the first few days my French was very shaky, but I’m starting to find my feet here already and I can see myself improving rapidly. So far I’ve managed to cheekily get the wifi code from my neighbour for free internet, opened a bank account, got a French phone, had a tour of the new school and blagged my way through many conversations that I’ve only understood half of - not too bad so far! It’s a very small town and nobody speaks English here which is great for me but difficult at times. Everyone has been so nice to me and patient with my language which has really helped me to settle in. I’ve got a lot to look forward to as I’ll be more involved at the school this week and although mainly observing classes, I may get to teach a few pupils as well. I’m already desperately craving some kind of exercise and as running really isn’t my thing and the French aren’t too fond of hockey, I think I’ll be taking up basketball which is pretty big around here. My tutor said she was going to get me in touch with her friend who played in the national team, which is quite daunting as I’ve only ever played a few times in PE at school! But maybe I’ll come back a pro too… you never know!

So, for everyone that’s worried about me, I am getting on well and I will make some friends soon (I hope!). Here are some of the observations I’ve made so far:

-          - Going a few days without the internet makes you feel like a caveman

-          - Smelling good is overrated (My deodorant has to be used sparingly as the last bottle  cost me €4.50!)

-          - Beer and wine is cheaper than pepsi max (maybe that’s a sign?!)

-          - The French version of a ‘drink’ is not the same as in England – having to drink a glass of straight vodka at lunch today with my tutor made me a little light headed to say the least

-          - I can speak a bit of French after all

That’s pretty much all for this week. I’m yet to try snails and frogs legs, but I’ll keep you updated. Pictures to follow!

The calm before the storm

So I’ve decided to jump on the blogging bandwagon which at the moment seems to be filling up as more and more people have gone off on their merry ways across Europe, and I’m still in England. Waiting. And that’s the worst part – despite the fact that I’m soon going to be leaving my family, friends  and boyfriend, knowing that almost everybody else has started their year abroad and that my doom is yet impending (although perhaps I’m being melodramatic, I am a tad excited after all) is almost torturous. The more and more I want time to slow down so I can enjoy my last week in good company, the quicker time seems to fly. But this blog isn’t going to be a pessimistic outlook on the faltering concept of time, it’ll hopefully provide as a quick and easy way to update anyone who wants to know, on my progress in the country of bon bons, brie and berets.

Somehow, in my very ambitious feminine brain, I’ve decided that reducing my wardrobe is not an option, and although having sacrificed my huge French dictionary, I am now faced with lugging two-thirds of my weight across trains, tube and plane to get to my final destination of Charlieu, Lyon. The lycée in which I’ll be teaching have kindly provided me with a ‘studio’ at a total cost of €50 per month within walking distance of the place, pretty much bang in the town’s centre – not too shabby so far. The idea of independently exploring the ins and outs of French culture also provides me with a newfound eagerness that I will hopefully embrace once I’ve actually landed on French soil, however you will more than likely just see lots of pictures of random streets that I’ve lost myself down in the process.

So as not to bore you any further, I’m going to briefly summarise/point out a few consolatory facts:

-          - I am actually looking forward to going on my year abroad

-          - I will miss hockey far too much

-          - I have packed plenty of razors, so I won’t be conforming to the European  ways

-          - A quarter of my suitcase is filled with tea bags (Yorkshire of course)

-          - I probably won’t come back raving on about frogs legs and escargos

-          - I certainly will be sporting a beret wherever possible

My next post will be from France and hopefully much more exciting!

A bientôt!