Will's Grand Adventure

I love a good challenge and an adventure, so we decided that Wednesday would be my day to get out of Montpellier by myself to visit a neighboring town. There was still plenty to do and see in Montpellier, but I am pretty confident that I'll be back at some point soon and I was up for a change of pace. My research over the previous couple of days made me decide on Nimes. It's only about a half hour away by train and it has some history. Kaitlyn and I had a quick breakfast together then each got ready for our separate days. We said bye and I was off!

I made it to the train station pretty uneventfully. I got there about twenty minutes before my train was set to depart, what I thought would be plenty of time. I went to the ticket machine, got the gist of what it said, and found myself on the payment screen. I inserted my American credit card - nothing. I tried it again - still nothing. I tried a second machine. Then I saw the picture next to the credit card reader was of a credit card with a very prominent chip thing. Damn! No big deal, I still had fifteen minutes and the ticket office was right there. I went in, explained my situation to the guy at the door, and he told me that there is a line and since they only have one English speaker, it may be a while. He gave me a ticket: Q6. I looked up at the thing: R46. I sang the ABCs to myself a couple of times to make sure that the guy gave me a ticket for an entire alphabet away. Yup! He was not the friendliest person in the world so I figured I'd just forget him and try to figure something else out, keeping the ticket in my pocket in case I was still there six months from now and they finally made it to Q6. I found a ticket machine that actually accepted cash! Too bad that the only form of cash acceptable was in coin form and I only had a euro or two, about twenty euros short. At this point, I gave up on that first train and set my eyes on the next one. I'll be honest, at this point, I was close to giving up and just spending another day in Montpellier. Determined not to be defeated though, I walked back to the grocery store in town to try to get some change. I cautiously approached the checkout clerk and asked her if she spoke any English. She shook her head no. I let the guy behind me in line go ahead while I pulled out Kaitlyn's phone, opened the Google Translate app, and explained my situation in a couple of lines. That thing was a life saver! She read the note, smiled (only my second smile of the week from a French woman!), and gave me 20 euros of coins in exchange for my bill. I grabbed a baguette and went back to the train station, bought my ticket, and then miraculously found my train. I found that showing a station employee my ticket and shrugging my shoulders while making a confused face is the international gesture for "I'm an idiot. Where is my train?"

The train ride was short and sweet. We didn't pass any scenery that knocked my socks off, just a couple of small towns, roads, and agriculture. There was a young child sitting behind me talking to his grandfather. I was able to understand a lot of their conversation! I was pretty excited to almost have the understanding of a 2 or 3 year old. The Nimes train station was beautiful, allowing it to fit in well with the rest of the city. The whole city was just amazing. It felt park-like. Everything was very clean and in great shape. Old mixed with new seamlessly, the restorations being done with the utmost respect for the past. The only thing on my to-do list for the day was to see the Arena, which is a smaller version of the Coliseum but in much better shape. I figured a structure like that wouldn't be too hard to find, so I struck off into the city. I definitely had some pep to my step thanks to the excitement of being off on my own far from anyone I know. The Arena was a short five minute walk from the train station. I did the super touristy thing of buying a ticket to do the audio tour. Yes, I'm a nerd, but I really liked it. I learned a lot about the Arena and about Nimes' history. I am incredibly tempted to go back at the start of the summer for the Feria de Nimes, a massive party and festival revolving around bullfighting, which is the primary use of the Arena today. By the time I finished, it was lunchtime to I treated myself to a massive bucket of mussels and fries across the street from the Arena. I topped it off with a couple of beers, enjoying the warmth of the sun and just everything about where I was and what I was doing.

I had four hours or so before my return train so I headed farther into the city, towards the hills on the other side. I came across the Maisson Carree, a super well-preserved Roman temple. They claim in was the best preserved Roman temple in the entire former Roman Empire. Best preserved amphitheater and best preserved temple too?! Whether the people of Nimes are really good at preservation or just hyperbole was beyond me. Either way, they really were in good shape. I continued on down this tree-lined main street with a canal running down the center. It was beautiful. That led to a park full of sculptures and ponds and little old men playing whatever the French call their lawn bowling/bocce ball. There was another old Roman temple tucked away in a back corner, this one in much worse shape. I knew that there was an old Roman lookout tower on top of one of the hills in town so I started hiking up the one next to me. I figured it had to be up there somewhere. Let the sweating begin! I actually didn't have any trouble at all finding it. All of the paths seemed to lead there, and there were signs guiding visitors to something so I figured that was it. That tower has taken some abuse over the years, both from the weather, people, and just time, but I hope it will be around long enough for you guys to get up there and see the view. It was cool imagining it as the Romans saw it, with the Arena and temples in sight and the old Roman highway from Rome to Spain passing just outside the former city walls. From up there, I saw the train station all the way on the other side of town and looked at the time and figured I'd better start moving. I made it with time to spare, allowing me to take a cheesy picture with a bullfighter statue, grab a cup of coffee, and find the old gates to the city.

Finding the proper train involved a lot of tapping on a lot of shoulders, pointing at my ticket, and making that same confused face while shrugging my shoulders. When I did find my train, I dozed off into a nap, only to be woken up by a young French boy singing "I love sexy bodies." I have no idea what song it was but I thought it was hilarious how he was chatting away in French and then in perfect, clear, non-accented English, sang that line. Who knows if he knows what it means.

I got to Montpellier as the sun was disappearing behind the horizon. I had Kaitlyn's phone so we had agreed on a meeting point earlier in the day. And to think people used to meet up all of the time like that! I went straight to O'Carolans, the Irish pub. Her friends Molly and Monica showed up first. They are awesome. Molly is from Canada and Monica is from California. Kaitlyn showed up a few minutes later. We grabbed a beer then decided on an Italian restaurant for dinner. I am convinced that being just a couple hundred miles from Italy made the food that much better. It was delicious. We were enjoying the night so much that we decided to stay in town after dinner, going to one of their favorite bars for a nightcap and some more talking while the girls spied on some bartender they were crushing on. Once their dreamboy left, their interest in the bar waned and we went to another restaurant to grab another drink and some crepes for dessert (more nightcaps!). If I lived in France, I'd probably be three hundred pounds. Finally getting our fill, we started the long walk back to the residences.

William's Tuesday

Tuesday morning was cool and gray when we woke up. We bundled up and made our way to the farmers' market that they have twice a week underneath the aqueduct. There were probably about fifty stands lining the walkway, selling everything from clothing and soaps to cheese and vegetables. Everything looked and smelled pretty good. I think the language barrier kept us from being too adventurous with our taste testing but we definitely feasted with our eyes. Kaitlyn picked up a bunch of fruits and vegetables for herself, then we figured we needed to get a pumpkin for our planned Halloween party on Thursday. Then, on the way home, we did what we did every single time we passed the boulangerie, grabbed another baguette. They were too good to pass up! I also realized I'm a sucker for the pain au chocolat and coffee combo. I walked Kaitlyn halfway to class again and then sat down on a bench on campus, feeling awfully European bundled up in my sweater, eating my croissant and sipping on my coffee.

I had another few hours to myself before I had to meet up with Kaitlyn for lunch so I figured I'd get myself lost and wander around the city some more. I felt like I had become pretty familiar with the historic district so I decided to venture beyond that. I was a little disappointed to find that things seemed pretty dirty and run down, at least in this neighborhood I found myself in. Maybe it was just the gloomy weather though and I'd have a different opinion if the sun was shining. Regardless, I was able to make my way back to the historic area and made it home seconds before Kaitlyn arrived. 

Sandwiches are so much better when they are made with great bread, and we had some REALLY great bread. They were nothing fancy but boy were they good. Lunchtime conversation consisted of Halloween party planning, Friday and Saturday day trip itineraries, and compiling a short shopping list of things Kaitlyn needed from town. My shopping list required me to stop at two stores so I had to talk to two different people. I took the easy way out and used the self-checkout at the grocery store, but I was forced to have human interaction at the 2-Euro store. Fortunately, I was only getting one thing and I knew exactly what it cost (2-euros) so even though I didn't understand a word she said, we were able to complete the transaction without a problem. I was disappointed in myself for chickening out at the grocery store and I was determined to make up for it. I successfully picked up a bottle of wine from the wine store and a baguette at the boulangerie and met Kaitlyn at home for dinner. I was proud of myself for being able to almost communicate with the last two storekeepers. Kaitlyn prepared some of the veggies we bought that morning and had some pasta with pesto sauce to go with it. She's a good cook! We were pretty tired by that point and nobody wanted to go out so we just hung out and started watching a movie before we fell soundly asleep.

Will: Full Day 2

After a solid night's sleep, we woke up well-rested on Monday morning and went for a run. We ran towards town, along the aqueduct, and climbed what seemed to be hundreds of steps up to the park that is adjacent to the historic part of town. My legs must have atrophied on the flight or something because those steps were killer. We caught our breath while checking out how anatomically correct the sculpture of Louis XIV's horse was. We ran back to the residences, stopping at the boulangerie for a quick breakfast. We showered, stretched, got dressed, and ate, then we walked to campus in time for Kaitlyn to get to class. I went because I wanted to see the school and all of that, but she was self-conscious about me walking her to class so she made sure we said our goodbyes a good distance away from her classroom.

I was on my own for the next few hours. I didn't have any plans so when Kaitlyn told me that she had some dry cleaning she needed to have picked up, I volunteered, figuring it would be an adventure. It was probably about a 15 minute walk to get to the place in a direction that we haven't walked before. I had nothing but a hand-drawn map on a post-it note and the claim tag. Miraculously I found the dry cleaner with no issues at all. Maybe Louis' horse was looking out for me from Horsey Heaven because we were so impressed by the size of his... hooves. Anyway, the real fun started when I got there. I asked the woman behind the counter if she spoke English. She said no. I handed her the ticket and she brought me the clothes. No big deal until I started playing charades, trying to act out "Did my girlfriend pay for this already?" She looked at me like I had three heads. Thankfully she was honest and pushed my hand away when I tried to hand her money.

The walk back was a little more difficult since I had trouble remembering which road I came from. I knew the general direction but I definitely took the scenic route. I didn't have any plans and I was there to see France so I didn't mind. After dropping off her clothes, I went out to explore the town, camera in hand. With no destination in mind, I was disappointed to find out that the aqueduct ended anticlimactically on one end in an ugly modern water tower in an overgrown park in a boring suburb. I'm sure it was better looking back in the 1700s. At least they kept the other end beautiful! I walked back along the length of the aqueduct, climbed those same stairs that I died on earlier that morning, and continued on to town.

I must have walked miles. I was going up and down streets, looking in stores, admiring buildings, and taking pictures. I couldn't work up the courage to talk to anyone, so I didn't buy anything or order any food. One thing that caught my eye was all of the graffiti. To be fair, I have no idea if there was any more than there is at home. If not, I think it may have just stuck out to me more because it was in such sharp contrast to the historic beauty of the city. I am also not sure if there are armies of graffiti artists wandering the streets at night or if people just don't mind enough to clean it up. I guess that's just the way things go though. Just like the city walls were built by one generation and removed by another, each generation plays a role in shaping the city. We may have to wait to see what impact Kaitlyn and her group have on the city. At the very least, from what I've seen, they've had a positive impact on the revenue for Montpellier's bars and pubs.

I met Kaitlyn back at her room at noon. We decided to walk to her "hippie" grocery store. It was like a mini Whole Foods, with organic food everywhere and all sorts of grains, nuts, and fruits. We picked up some sandwich supplies and went back to her room to spend the rest of her lunch break hanging out and making sandwiches. She had class again in the afternoon, which means some more exploring for me. As if I didn't get enough walking in that morning! I spent the next couple of hours wandering around the city some more. I even got a French girl to smile at me! I'm sure she was laughing at me for something dumb I was doing, but hey, a smile is a smile.

I lost track of time and got back to Kaitlyn's room a little late. I had her key so she had to wait for me. Woops. We hung out for a bit then went back into town (my fourth time today!) for dinner. After some meandering, we came to this small plaza where a couple of restaurants had tables. We picked the French restaurant, naturally. Our waiter didn't speak much English but thankfully he was very patient with us. I kept doing this thing where I'd be looking at him, trying to pick out a familiar word or phrase, and then when he addressed, I'd make an awkward smile and look at Kaitlyn for help. Also, he said the French word for perfect which sounds a hell of a lot like parfait, which I politely declined because I thought he thought I wanted a cup of ice cream and fruit. Not before dinner, anyway! We had a lot of wine, cheese, and bread. I discovered that I actually like goat cheese. I was convinced for the past twenty five years that I hated it, but a switch was flipped for me on this trip because I suddenly loved it. While waiting for what we'd call our entrees in America, we had some real entrees of bread and cheese. Kaitlyn prepared some goat cheese drizzled with honey on bread for me. Sooo good. Our main courses came out and they were pretty delicious too. We were really just loving life. It was great being together, it was great being in France, it was great having such good wine and that food. I know that it may get annoying reading about how much I loved everything, but I don't really think words can truly describe it. It was the best.

At the end of the meal, we walked through the small streets lined with cafes and other people enjoying the night, back to the main streets that would take us home to bed.

Will: Full Day Number 1

My first full day in France started out on time. For not going to bed until around four in the morning, we didn't sleep in too much. We rolled out of bed to go to the boulangerie. The boulangerie is a cute little store that you can smell from a couple of blocks away. Walking down the sycamore-lined street that eventually meets up with the aqueduct, plowing our way through the piles of fallen leaves, I kept getting whiffs and knew that I was going to be in heaven. The boulangerie had a big glass case filled with pastries, loaves of bread, donuts, everything carb-related that you could ever want, and against the wall in the back were baskets filled with bread that was baked in the massive ovens visible in the back room. Kaitlyn and I split a pain au chocolat, a baguette, and a cup of coffee. It was so good! Feeling energized, we went back to her room where she made a killer breakfast of eggs seasons and baked in the halves of an avocado. I definitely recommend it.

Because we were in no particular rush, we took our time getting ready after breakfast, which had the unintended consequence of giving the skies a chance to clear up. We retraced our steps back down that street, past the delicious bakery, and on to downtown. The aqueduct, built in the Roman style in 1772, became a useful landmark for me that first day or two. We followed it into the park at the edge of the historic downtown area. Even though we just had breakfast, I was easily convinced by Kaitlyn that I needed to try a hotdog served in a baguette, something that they serve once a week on Sunday mornings in that particular park, more or less in the shadows of a massive statue of Louis XIV on horseback. Knowing that was pretty much going to be my only opportunity to have a baguette hot dog, there was no way I could turn it down.

Baguette hot dog in hand, we wandered the nearly-empty cobblestone streets of Montpellier under a beautiful blue French sky. Apparently we missed the memo that we were supposed to sleep in longer, or go to church, or just spend more time hanging out at home before going out in public. It didn't affect us one bit though. We wandered up and down the streets and alleys, much like we did the day before, and I was finally starting to get my bearings. I really think having the sun in the sky as a reference point helped. When we veered off of the main streets and into the curvy side streets, it felt a bit like walking through a canyon, with white two or three story buildings on either side of us about ten to fifteen feet apart, a curvy strip of cloudless blue sky over our heads. All of the stores that lined these streets (more like alleys) were closed for the morning. The more miles we walked, the more people appeared. Sometime in the early afternoon, we sat down at a cafe for a drink. I got an Orangina (my favorite) and Kaitlyn got a coke. Pretty simple but pretty damn perfect. Ordering was a bit of a struggle again but we made it work. I think it helps that Kaitlyn's an attractive girl with a great smile. All of our waiters are a little more patient with us because of it. Our break from walking was much appreciated. I think just sitting there with her, an island in a sea of French speakers, it sank in a little more that I was finally there. The sun was out, it was pretty warm, and everything just seemed perfect. 

By the time we finished up, it was mid-afternoon. We walked around a bit more through town as we started to head back to the residences. We were pretty wiped out by the time we got back. After the late night the night before and with a day of class the next day, we decided to just chill out and hang out in her room. I did some research for things to do while she was in class and she did some studying. We cooked dinner using some of the produce she bought at the farmers' market the day before. My favorite thing was the zucchini. I don't know how to describe it really but it is so good! I guess I'd just say it's sauteed zucchini with garlic and other herbs. So simple but so delicious. We watched a few episodes of the Big Bang Theory and then passed out, exhausted from the night before.

Will's First Day/Night (Jet Lag Free-ish)

Upon touchdown in Montpellier, I had no way of getting in touch with Kaitlyn. I went to baggage claim and half-expected my bag to have just finished it's thousandth lap around the baggage claim carousel in Minneapolis thousands of miles away (MPS vs. MPL), but I was relieved to see it tumble down the slide a few minutes later, zippers bulging with my clothes and Kaitlyn's. Unlike American airports, the baggage claim area is separated from the public area, so those few minutes of waiting for my bag took FOREVER. I wanted to see her! As soon as I got my bag, I wheeled it through the opaque sliding doors, and there she was. A big hug or two later (I was reluctant since I smelled bad but she was a trooper and put up with it), we were sitting outside the airport at the bus stop, waiting for our bus into the city. Kaitlyn was awesome enough to pick up a sandwich for me. It was a chicken and tomato and cheese sandwich on a really good baguette. It had some mayonnaise on it but she assured me that it tastes better in France. I agree.  I wish my body wasn't so confused so I could actually have an appetite to eat the sandwich, but I still managed to eat half. 

The bus ride couldn't have been more than ten minutes, and Kaitlyn and I caught up on the previous night's festivities. I couldn't believe I was finally there! I don't think it sunk in for a few days. It was so cool being in a new place. I couldn't decide whether to look at her or out the window, but I don't think she was too offended. The bus dropped us off at a tram stop in a more modern part of town, where we caught a tram to the center of the historic area. From there, we walked a few minutes towards another bus stop that we'd take to her room. The whole time, I was loving EVERYTHING. I know it's super cliche, but it really was everything I imagined and more. I felt on top of the world, a feeling that she'd make fun of me for as the week went on. She would catch me just smiling and looking happy. I probably looked insane but the emotions were genuine. Whatever. Also, side note, I think whoever invents a rolly-suitcase with off-road tires will be a billionaire. Those cobblestones were pretty rough on my wimpy plastic wheels.

The first thing I wanted to do when I got to her room was to take a shower, but being the martyr I am, I sacrificed my hygiene temporarily to give her all of the Reeses Peanut Butter Cups I packed for her as well as all of her clothes. After my shower, I got dressed and we walked downtown. We wandered up and down the narrow streets and alleys, never knowing what we were going to find (I can say that this is 100% true for me, but she assured me that she hadn't been in those particular alleys at that time of day yet so it was an adventure for her too). I felt incredibly lost for that first hour or two but fortunately I got the hang of the town over the course of the afternoon and the next day. I started to recognize places, buildings, and monuments from all of her pictures and it all started to make more sense to me. We stopped at a bar for a beer and sat outside. Ordering the beer was a bit of a struggle for me, but with Kaitlyn's help, we managed. From there, we went to the Irish pub that she's become a big fan of, O'Carolans. I met the guys who helped her out so much over her first few days in Montpellier. I really liked them a lot. On the way home, we grabbed two take-out pizzas (ordering food and drinks was always such an adventure). I think we eventually figured out that the pizza chef was a big fan of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, for whatever reason, so we bonded a bit over the Keystone State. I met the first two of her friends outside of the pizza shop. I would see them again about a half hour later in one of the patio areas of the residences, where fifteen or so of her classmates gathered to taste wine, eat cheese, and talk. It was very cool finally getting to meet everyone. Everyone was super welcoming and friendly towards me. It was awesome.

A few of us decided to head downtown to meet up with another group of her friends, who were already in town, having just watched the Real Madrid versus Barcelona soccer game. I was amazed that I was still feeling so good despite having had about seven hours of sleep cumulative over the past few nights, so i just kept going with it. This other group of friends was in the loft at a pretty crowded, pretty hip bar. It was in a beautiful stone building with vaulted ceilings and great stonework throughout. Unfortunately I found out the hard way that the stonework was real, as I knocked the hell out of my head on a low ceiling a couple of times. This group of friends was just as welcoming as the first and we tried to make conversation over the loud music. At the end of the bottle, we moved to yet another bar. It closed soon after we got there but that didn't stop the party. Everyone spilled out into the alley, sitting around, talking, and laughing, and it wasn't until the third or fourth time that the bar's employees came by to ask us to leave that the crowd started to disperse. Our group started wandering home, taking things very slow and stopping to talk to other friends. I have no idea what time it was but I just remember being so impressed by how much energy there still was out in the streets from all of the people who were out. It was incredible. It was a warm night, all of the buildings were lit up, and I was having a great time, loving every minute. We eventually got home, but did everyone part ways to go to bed? No way! A few of us went to Kaitlyn's friend Dor's room, where we sat around chatting and drinking wine for another hour or so. I think the time change or lack of sleep or maybe just all of that wine finally started to catch up to me as my eyelids suddenly weighed a ton. The night wrapped up and we went back to Kaitlyn's room, where I fell asleep before my head even hit the pillow. 

Will's Adventure to France

It was finally Friday, October 25th! I couldn't believe it. The three weeks or so since I booked my ticket couldn't pass by quickly enough, but with a day or two until departure, I was trying unsuccessfully to pump the breaks a bit so I could get my life organized and my bags packed before I took off.

I woke up at 4am with no alarm. I blame it on my excitement, but really, who wouldn't be excited? I finished packing my stuff and the majority of Kaitlyn's clothes, trying to make my luggage look as small as possible so I could carry it all on. I then took a very thorough shower because I knew it would be about 24 hours of running through airports and struggling through the language barrier. Finally, because this trip would be putting me into vacation-day debt at work, I hauled all of my luggage into the office for a productive yet incredibly distracted half-day.

A little after noon, I hopped on BART towards SFO and the sweating began. The BART car was warm to begin with, but I was also wearing a sweater to make my bag smaller and was carrying my raincoat and down jacket. When I got there, armed with my pre-printed boarding pass, I went straight to the security line, where I was promptly turned back because I didn't have a cabin tag. Oops. It had obviously been too long since I last traveled internationally. I walked the ten miles back to the Air France counter and got into line. By this point, between the stress, the trekking back and forth across the airport, and that damn sweater, I was full on sweating and probably looking awfully suspicious.

I quickly found out my backpack does not qualify as a personal item and my suitcase was quite a few kilograms above the weight limit for carry on. Well, at least I could get rid of that sweater! I stuffed as much as I could into the bag I was forced to check and then sent it through, much happier (he didn't charge me anything for checking it AND he was sending it all the way through to Montpellier) and much lighter. Security time. I went back to the lady who sent me away for my lack of cabin tags, got through security quickly and painlessly (for me, anyway. The foreigners in line in front of me didn't speak English and didn't know to take off their shoes, take their laptops out of their bags, take off their jackets, etc.), and then grabbed myself a pizza for lunch as I had an hour or so until boarding. The people in front of me in line were struggling with English and were doing a lot of pointing and took forever to pay. When I realized I was judging them, much like I judged the people in the security line, I realized that I need to stop because that was going to be me in about ten hours.

While waiting at the gate in the cloud of cologne from the Abercrombie-clad teenagers sitting next to me, it started to sink in that I was actually doing this. There wasn't a single English speaker in the waiting area. Everyone was chatting away in French, with a ton of shopping bags by their sides. A lot of the young people were wearing Hollister, Abercrombie and Fitch, American Eagle, and stuff like that, brands that strive to be All-American but which Americans my age haven't worn in half a decade. I tried to pick out words here and there from their conversations but was completely unsuccessful. I heard "Paris," "Merci," and "Oui," but that was about it. For all I know, they could have been saying some pretty terrible things about the American doofus sitting across from them. Whatever. While devouring my pizza, my dad called and we chatted for a bit. If you don't know my dad, he is a pretty right-wing guy, so naturally the perils of the European model of government and society ("They are all a bunch of socialists!") came up. I made a comment about the Air France union and their strike the next day, not realizing that my future flight attendants were waiting right next to me. They will probably spit in my food and drinks. Oh well. Boarding time!

I got on the plane, chanting my seat number in my head, and made my way to it, "Excusez-moi"-ing my way back. I sat down and got settled when an older French lady came up to me with the flight attendant and said something in French. The flight attendant asked to see my boarding pass. I looked at it and remembered that I changed my seat that morning so I wouldn't be sitting next to the bathroom! Woops. I tried to make some joke but neither of them smiled. My American charm is apparently completely ineffective against the French. Great. That's what I was counting on for my survival for the next week! I then looked like an idiot as I marched back up the plane and found my correct seat, next to a French couple who knew about three words of English between them.

I got settled and fell asleep about five minutes after take-off. As my eyes were closing before that nap, I remember thinking, "This is awesome. I'm going to sleep through the majority of this flight." Forty-one minutes later, I was wide-awake.

If I wasn't going to sleep, at least I could get caught up on some of the movies I've been meaning to see at some point. I watched the Hangover 3 and Gangster Squad, then I re-watched a few choice scenes from Django just before landing. The food was really good on the flight! And it took the beverage cart a lap or two before I figured out that alcohol was free. Ordering the food and drinks was embarrassing though. I knew "Je voudrais..." and I knew some like chicken and water, but every time she asked me what I'd like to have (in beautiful French, I might add), I froze and mumbled something in English. And then since I was in English-mode, I even said "Thank you" afterwards. I felt like an ass and every time she walked away after our exchange, I would kick myself for being an idiot. I'm also pretty sure that this was her part-time job since I am convinced I've seen her in Sports Illustrated's swimsuit edition before. After Gangster Squad, I read a little Camus (I thought it was appropriate given my destination) and then slept for a solid hour. A few hours later, the sun was back up and they started serving breakfast. The yogurt, fruit, and everything else was solid, but then there was this weird pancake thing that was wrapped around this white stuff. Traveling instantly puts me in an adventurous mood, so I figured I'd give it a shot. The pancake part was good, but the texture of the white stuff threw me off big time. It wasn't until I was walking through the airport in Paris that it hit me that I tried cottage cheese! That was a first for me. It always freaked me out and apparently it still does. After choking down half of it, I looked around and was relieved to see that nobody around me seemed to enjoy it either. By the time they cleared the breakfast, we were on the home stretch, so I flicked through the channels and movies of the TV on the seat and managed to sleep for another half hour or so.

Oh! On the flight, they have live video of the scenery outside. It was super cool, especially on takeoff and landing.

Will visited about a month ago, but finally, we are presenting to you his point of view of the trip.  Beware, he writes like a novelist....LOOONNNGGG.  But at the same time it is good! Enjoy!

William:

We landed at Charles de Gaulle. It was an awesome feeling that I was actually there and that I'd be seeing Kaitlyn in just a couple of hours. I had to walk a good distance to the next terminal but eventually figured it out. Almost all of the signs were in both English and in French and had pictures, and even if it was just French text, I probably could have figured it out. At one point though, I had a question so I approached this guy wearing cargo shorts, a Route 66 Hawaiian shirt, and a Harley Davidson hat. He was probably even wearing socks and flip flops. Sounds like the stereotypical American tourist, right? Wrong. He was very French and was apparently just a big fan of our culture. I figured it out though, and then one woman came up to me and, without hesitation, asked me something in English. I wasn't expecting to hear anything I understood so I must have looked surprised, since she said, "Oh I'm sorry, I thought you were American." I assured her I was and then helped her out. I have no idea how she could tell though. I don't know if it was my clothes or the way I carry myself. Whatever. I am what I am!

I made it through customs with an agent who looked super bored. He glanced at my passport for half a second and handed it back to me. I was thinking, "Really? Is that it?" and I just stood there because I thought maybe I had to do something else. He then waved me through. I was bummed that he didn't stamp my passport! But then I also thought that I could probably stay forever now because they'll have no idea when I got there. I made it through the next security line even though I had no idea whether to take off my shoes or not. I don't think I did but I think all of my fellow Americans and I did anyway. I got to the gate, found fifteen minutes of free wifi, and let Kaitlyn and my family know that I survived. 

Observations from the domestic terminal: French kids are pretty cute. They are pretty stylishly dressed and I think just the fact that they are speaking a foreign language makes them even cuter. Fifty year old men wearing super tight pants and shirts with their beer guts hanging out aren't nearly as endearing. But European women of all ages look pretty good, as far as I can tell so far.

The next flight was over before I knew it. It helped that I slept for 95% of the hour and ten minute flight, so I got three hours of sleep for the night. I was a little worried since I only got four hours the night before and it was only 2 in the afternoon with a long night ahead of me, but I figured I'd have all of the adrenaline and excitement and activity to keep me going. Under gray skies, I finally landed in Montpellier.

Packages!

I have not been this excited for a package in my life.  I was not at my apartment when they tried to deliver it the first time so I had to go pick it up from the post office (way easier than stupid FedEx which I will explain later). I sprinted to the post office as soon as I was able to and easily got the package.  The wait on the walk home was terrible! I wanted to know what was in it, even though I asked for everything that is in it.  But it is still a nice surprise.  

From what I remembered to ask for, I was most excited about the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, which most Europeans have never had.  Next, my knitting needles; the weather is getting cold and I want to knit!

Opening the package was probably the most difficult part.  I could not find the seams because there was so much tape on the box, i barely saw the card board.  When I opened it i first saw Harry Potter!!! I think that is actually what I was truly most excited about and totally forgot.  Then there was Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte packs!!!! OMG SOOO GOOD.  I loved the package.  It was practical and rewarding.  A special thanks to Will for sending it :).

Back to FedEx.  They tried to deliver my package but since I am at school I was not there to receive it.  They left me a note (just like La Poste) and I called them to see what I had to do.  They said that I need to be at the apartment to get it.  I asked if they could leave at the post office and they said no.  Then I asked if they could leave it at the office for the residence, but they did not understand that.  Then I said, FINE I can come to your office.  The office is in another city.  I don't have a car and I don't know how long the bus will take.  But I would think that FedEx could figure a way to deliver the package at a time will be home, but no.  We paid them to deliver it to me, this is stupid.  USPS is doing a way better job.  And my friend used UPS and she was able to schedule a time of delivery.  Why can't FedEx do that.  I hate them right now.

Barcelona Day 3

Day 3.  I did not get much sleep again.  I woke up at 10 ish and tried to plan the day.  I still had not done any sightseeing that I wanted to do so that was my priority.  Through research, Molly and I decided to go to Park Guel, the Sagrada Familia and the Picaso Museum.  I thought it was a good plan, and it was, but it wasn't.  

Getting to Park Guell is hard.  No matter what metro to take, you need to walk 2 minutes towards it.  So we go out of the metro and had no idea where we were and only had a shitty tourist map.  We got lost and found the park an hour later.  Once at the park there were so many other tourists and this was not what we wanted.  We also did not see what everyone was so stoked on.  Yea there was a pretty view and it did have some cool architecture going on because Gaudi was awesome, but we just did not like it.  There were probably other factors like fatigue and irritability due to being lost, but we just did not enjoy it much.  BUT everyone I talked to back at school asked if I had seen the park and I would say how we didn't like it and their mouths drop.  I don't know what they loved so much about it, but yea, I guess I offend them when I say it.  So sorry if I am offending anyone now.  

Next stop was the Sagrada Familia, which is the only thing I remember about Barcelona from when I was little.  It was just as cool as it was when I was 10 years old.  I think it is more "complete" now that they keep "finishing" it.  But it is such a different type of style compared to any other churches it makes sense why it is so loved and visited.  I wanted to go in but the line to buy a ticket was around half the church, and it is a big ass church.  Maybe another time.

Last stop, the Picasso Museum.  I had actually passed it the day before with Magdelena but did not realize it.  Side note: all these tourist spots were an adventure to fine because our map was so bad that it made no sense at all which way was North or South or what streets the sights were on.  The Picasso Museum had a longish line but Molly and I stuck through it.  I was taken aback at how much I liked the museum.  It showed you the development of Picasso.  He was not always the crazy face making painter that I think of him as.  He could pain a lot of different styles of things.  The funniest one we saw was a "Self Portrait with Wig."  We decided it was like the old fashion way for taking a selfie picture with a weird hat.  BUT I really liked a lot of his works, from is older ones to some that were more recent.  

So now it was time to go out again.  Normally when I party with groups I take a night off and rest, but for some reason I did not do this here.  I was going off of the amount of sleep in 2 days that I like to get in one night, and still managed to get ready and go out.  We finally had some great tapas at a place where all the tapas were set out on a bar and you could just go up and grab them.  At the end of your meal you go up and they charge you for the amount of toothpicks you have.  It is a cool honor system and I loved that, but was also upset because I knew that in America it would not work out since people are cheap and dishonest.  Nest we bar hopped just to et a feel for this other side of town we were at.  We went to a cocktail lounge, a gin bar, a pub and then another more pub like bar.  The 4 of us that lasted to the end of the bar scene got home around 4 am.  One guy, Jos (South African) made friends with some homeless people and wondered off, and the rest of us got into the apartment and thought it would be a good idea to play French music really loud and have a dance party.  Just the 3 of us.  There were 2 guys sleeping on the couch (and by sleeping I mean passed out) and we did not give a damn.  They woke up once and said something along the lines of "I like this song" and did not ask us to stop or leave.  It was a solid dance party with just the 3 of us (2 Americans and a Swede).  I danced my way to bed (literally) a bit after 5 and the other two danced for another hour after that.  I don't know why or how they did it, but it happened.  

The last day was just cleaning and catching a bus.  We returned to Montpellier at 8 pm and I went to bed at 9 and woke up at 6.  It was not THAT much sleep, but I needed it.  Bad.  

I had such a great weekend.  I am so glad that I went.  I was able to get to know more people in my major better than I did before and now we all have inside jokes and stories.  It was a good bonding time.  And to be honest, Barcelona was way cooler than I thought it would be.  I really liked the city…other than the spanish speaking part.  I was relieved to return to France where I could at least understand a conversation or when someone tries to talk to me.  In Spain I was so useless.  I still loved it though.  

From left to right: Jos, Dor, Molly, Monica, Tobias.

Barcelona Day 2

Day 2 in Barcelona was a struggle.  No one was feeling 100% due to the alcohol and lack of sleep but we knew we were in Barcelona and had to take advantage of the time here.  We made it out of the apartment about 1 and went to find a place to have lunch.  We chose a place that had the SLOWEST service and my meal came 5 minutes later than everyone else's.  I was dying of hunger so that 5 minutes felt like an eternity.  The only truly redeeming factor of the lunch was they gave us shots of some weird semi tequila tasting semi limoncello tasting shots.  It was hilarious to see all of us struggling to take them. 

After lunch we walked down to the harbor and saw the harbor mall type thing and all the boats parked.  In that mall there was a Starbucks and I really felt like a Pumpkin Spice Latte…which they didn't have.  Sad day.  I still got a Chia Tea Latte but it was not as good as a Pumpkin Spice Latted would have been.  But that latte made me feel like a new person.  So what if I got little sleep, I wanted to keep doing something now and not go home.  Thankfully one of the girls, Magdelena, had the same mindset as me.  We did not have to worry about leading a bunch of people and our only aim was to get lost and find cool shops.  We did just that.  There were so many cute shops with cute clothes and accessories but we both fought all the urges to buy anything! I was so proud, but now regret it a little.  I think having something from Spain would have been really cool. 

Though I was down to adventure and all, I could not deny the fact that I needed some rest.  We went home to nap/rest.  Napping is hard with 10 people in an apartment but I was able to just sit and relax.  Another thing that worked out well was one of the girls, Chloe cooked us dinner.  This was a money saving and energy saving idea.  She also cooked a really good veggie meal!

Yet again, we headed out on the town around 11 or 11:30.  We had a friend (a local) show us to some cheap places.  The group I was with has this weird obsession with Mojitos (also tequila) but I don't like them.  I tried to like the Mojitos but can't do it.  Not at all.  So we went to a place that had good sized 3 euro mojitos, a pretty baller price.  

When that bar closed we meandered a bit and came across another bar.  Here, it was pretty chill and normal until this lady came in frantically looking for her puppy.  She was crying and looking everywhere for the puppy.  I remembered seeing one come in and thinking it was cute but I thought that it would have just gone to the guy who brought it in.  After she was looking for 10ish minutes I decided to look under my feet for a second.  I saw a dark blob that looked like a purse but I went to touch it anyway and it was soft, warm and breathing.  The puppy had fallen asleep under my feet and I did not even notice! So I just reached down and picked up the puppy and gave it to the lady's guy friend who then gave it to her.  She FREAKED out in happiness.  She was almost collapsing she was so happy and sad and just very emotional.  She had no idea it was me and I was OK with that.  But the guy was probably not enjoying the crazy ladies reaction so he pawned it off onto me.  She then came over and was crying and kissing my cheeks and giving me hugs and speaking in english and spanish.  It was an emotional mess.  I was laughing, she was crying, everyone else was laughing.  Her man friend helped get her off of me and we ended up chatting and he was from LA and went to Cal Poly!!! Such a random small world thing.  And I was out with Monica, another Cal Poly grad, so we all talked about the magical place of SLO.  

We got home around 4 again and just ate, watched youtube and hung out for a little bit.  Basically went to bed after 5 am again.  

Barcelona Day 1

This past weekend we were granted a 5 day weekend!! Originally we were going to go to the Rhone for a field trip but that was canceled.  With 5 days at hand what did 12 of us decide to do?  BARCELONA!!!

I got a round trip bus ticket for 68 euros.  The ride was 6 hours to get to Barcelona.  I was lucky enough to be accompanied by some friends, Molly and Tobias just incase I got super bored.  Our bus ride was not that bad.  Our bus driver was a biotch, but she got to Barcelona 30 minutes early, so I couldn't be that bad.

Once in Barcelona I realized that none of us could speak Spanish.  All I have is some Cali Spanglish, and that doesn't work with people from Spain (as I have learned from the two Spaniards in my class Javier and Jordi).  So the first obstacle was finding a taxi to take us to our apartment 10 of us were staying at.  I was worried that the driver would notice we were not very knowledgable about the area and try to rip us off.  He did the exact opposite…he drove us as far as he could go (we were in a no car area) and even gave us really good directions to our square.  I don't think you tip in Europe but we sure tipped him!

Finally arriving to our apartment we had to call the people already in Barcelona to let us in.  Monica (the girl who organized all of this) came to let us in so we could put down our stuff.  Surprise, surprise, the door does not unlock.  The key would go in but would not move.  We stood in this tiny stairway trying to open the door and trying to get a hold of the apartment owner for over an hour.  I was not even able to think of what was going to happen.  We were so close but so far away.  Once we got a hold of the owner (FINALLY) he came and decided he had to get a locksmith.  Luckily he owned more apartments in the building so he said "You guys can just put your stuff in the attic until we get this sorted."  By The Way, that attic had a beautiful terrace which overlooked the Barcelona skyline AND we got up there right at sunset.  The damn door breaking opened a whole other possibility, wine and cheese on the roof! It was so cute and so perfect we could not believe our luck (and unlock with the door).  It all worked out for the better.  

Now this was just the start of our night.  As the Spanish do, we got ready and headed for the bars at midnight.  The 10 of us mindlessly walked around and stumbled across this rastafarian looking bar.  The bar tenders spoke english to us and we met other english speaking people, including Australians.  What became dangerously popular at this bar was Tequila shots chased with a tomato sauce/lemon juice/pepper/tobasco shot.  I only tried one but it somehow became the drink of the rest of the weekend.  And, I don't now if it is common but when the bar had to close the bar tender poured a shot for everyone (for free) and said "your welcome, now leave."  It was a good idea and pretty funny.  

The bar closing did not mean the end of our night.  We had now picked up 2 Aussie guys to our pack and found a club.  I don't know how we found it or where it was (I was so lost) but it was a lot of fun.  I love dancing and that is all I did there.  It was not the best thing for my strained quad but I just couldn't stop dancing!!! I had so much fun there, and so did everyone else.  I thing we left the club around 4:30ish and began to head home, which no one knew where it was.  It took a half hour to walk home and later we found that we were only 5 minutes away.  Whoops.  

As I mentioned before, we had access to the terrace for the night so we decided to go watch the sunrise on the roof.  I fell asleep instantly and apparently slept walked down to the room when everyone gave up on the idea of seeing the sunrise.  I probably went to bed around 5:30 am and was woken up at about 10 am by screaming children in the square we were at.  I did not get that much sleep, and that was only just the start of the weekend.  

Photo Credit to Monica Lewis

Quad Problems

Damn...

So today (Monday) my quad felt a little funny walking up stairs but I thought nothing of it.  I really wanted to play soccer with everyone in the afternoon, so I assumed I would be ok by then.  When I got to soccer my leg was not that bad, but not perfect.  I jogged around a little and tried to do high knees but that really did not feel good.  I decided to play goalie which would not have to run much.  I kicked one ball and was out.  My quad was done.  It hurt just standing there.  It hurt to walk.  I sat down, and it still hurt.  I elevated it, ouch.  Nothing was good.  

Funny (or not so funny) enough, another guy, Jordi, did the same thing I did.  His leg felt funny so we went to play goalie and a few minutes later he was on the sideline with me.  I felt bad for him but it was also nice to have a buddy to walk home with.  We looked ridiculous walking home together.  We both hobbled in the same fashion and even funnier, we hurt the same leg and same muscle…twinzies!! 

Can You Read That?

The walk home should take 5 minutes, but it took a little longer given our state.  Every hobble felt bad, every elevation change, everything annoyed the muscle.  Finally, we got home (laughing the whole time at how ridiculous we looked), and I still had stairs to go up.  They were not that bad but I went really slowly and only stepped with my right foot.  A nice French girl asked me if I needed any help; just when I had lost hope in any nice french person, one shows up.  I denied the help because I am stubborn and made it to my room solo.  

The independent streak was over and now I needed help.  I did not have anything cold to put on it so my friend Molly walked to my room to deliver me ice.  Then, without asking, my neighbor/classmate/friend Dor came to check up on me (and give me muscle cream stuff)! I felt so loved by all the help I had gotten without begging.  I have hope in humanity again!!

It does suck a lot to be crippled right now, but it did make me happy to see that people were willing to help me out.  

Picture Walk

Picture Walk

There are a few people in my class that have nicer cameras.  One happens to be Nesli, the girl from Turkey, who I hang out with a good amount.  So on Saturday morning I was not feeling 100% since I had stayed out pretty late with everyone at pubs and such.  I was exhausted!!! But I did not just want to be lazy and sit around so Nesli and I went on a picture walk with our cameras.  She also has a Canon but hers is about 10 years newer haha.  

We had no plan but to walk around and get inspired.  Montpellier is a very pretty city with its alleyways and old architecture, so it is easy to be inspired.  

Nesli Took This...I love it!!