I've been Madamed. In Provence.

It's the last day of break, and it's gorgeous outside. It's really nearing the end of this whole thing. I know. I can tell because of the weather. Springtime means school is over soon, no matter how old you are! There are only six weeks left of work. And that means only six more weeks until I go off and see more of Europe. I spent a lot of last week (when I was in Lure with not much else to do) trying to make travel arrangements. I feel like a have about six million trips to plan, not enough time, and not enough money. But I will make the time, and I will find the money. It's going to be awesome.

Last Tuesday I headed out on my own for a relaxing vacation in the South. It was one of the most interesting, relaxing, enjoyable, adventurous, and rewarding travel experiences I've ever had. It all comes down to doing it alone. I planned it on my own. I did it on my own. I made every decision on my own. I did what I wanted. I never had to ask, "Would you rather do this or that?" Never had to spend time debating with someone over what to do or where to eat. I also noticed that being alone, more people (strangers) talked to me. I guess a person standing there alone is more approachable than someone having a conversation with others. Especially if that person is clearly a tourist. Makes sense. Not talking to someone while walking down the streets, it wasn't evident that I wasn't French. I blended in more with everyone else around me. I kept my maps and camera tucked away where no one could see them, and I think I succeeded in tricking people into assuming I'm French. At least from first glance. I had people stop and ask me directions. Someone stopped to ask me the name of a street. Getting onto a train, someone confirmed with me the city they were getting off in. Someone asked me where a bus was going. Someone asked me what was downstairs at an exhibit. These are little things, but these are the things that I love. I love answering the questions and then watching that person nod, thank me, and walk away knowing the answer to whatever it was they asked me. Knowing I successfully helped someone in French. And I love being called Madame. I've graduated from Mademoiselle to Madame. Not even sure I heard one Mademoiselle the whole trip. As you know, everything's better when it's madamed. And I've been madamed. :)

I took a train directly from Besançon to Avignon on Tuesday morning. Avignon's in Provence, the place everyone dreams of going. But before you jump to conclusions, let me tell you first that it was cloudy and cold for much of the time I was there. This was not the warm-weather experience I thought I was in for. Good thing I brought an extra sweater! When I got to Avignon, my first mission was to find the hotel. Looking on a map, the hotel was fairly close to the train station. And in fact, it was, but it was not easy to find. The train station is outside the main center of the city. I walked along a pretty major road from the train station and onto a side street with lots of industrial-ish things going on. Okay sorry, I don't know how to explain it. But I felt way out of place. Wondered why I chose to stay in a hotel so freaking far away from the center of town and so out of the way. But I managed to find the hotel after I'd already walked past it a couple times. And it's a good thing I have a cell phone, because I had to call them to let me in. At least I knew it was secure! It was already about 3:30, and I didn't want to waste any time. So I went to the center of town and basically just wandered wherever my little heart wanted me to wander. I knew there was one thing I wanted to see: the bridge. Despite the fact that I had an audio guide (in English even) telling me everything I'd want to know about the bridge, I really can't tell you much about it. You know me and history. But I (and most people, probably) knew it from the song, Sur le pont d'Avignon. It's a song kids learn when they're little, so of course every French person at least knows of the bridge. It would be like an American going to see London Bridge. Anyway, I saw the bridge, walked on it, and held onto my things for dear life. It was so incredibly windy. It wasn't even enjoyable. I should have just walked onto the bridge, walked off, and headed to the Palais des Papes, where the Popes used to live. I would have had time to go in!

Unfortunately I didn't have the time. Maybe because my hotel was so far away? But that doesn't matter. So I found my way from the bridge over the the palace. It was huge. That's really all I can say about it, because I didn't go inside. But there was a cute little park in the area, so I wandered around there for a while. I love stumbling across parks. It's such a great treat! Unfortunately because it was so windy, it was more like a quick run-through, desperate to get back to regular civilization. The park was up a hill, overlooking the river and part of the city. So the wind was especially strong up there. After a while, this loud alarm started going off. I had no clue what it was. It reminded me of a tornado siren, but I knew that wasn't a possibility at that point. I really didn't know, so I just headed out as planned anyway. Turns out the park was just closing. No big deal. Perfect timing I guess, because I was leaving anyway.

For the rest of the night, I just wandered around, losing myself in the tiny streets of Avignon. It was a cool city, but since it was getting dark out and I didn't want to get too lost, I didn't go too far. But that didn't matter to me, because the whole reason I went was to see the bridge. Check!

Allow me to interject something here. When I'm traveling, I'm constantly writing my blog in my head. I'm always coming up with things I want to say, and exactly how I want to say them, while I'm looking at cool things or walking in cool places. Then when it comes time to write, I never remember them. I do need to start writing things down when I think of them. But for now, just consider this blog post to have a lot more witty comments than it actually does. :)

It was back to the hotel that night, and up early the next morning to catch my train to Arles. Arles! Arles was thrown into this mix kind of at the last minute. I arrived around 8:40am and my train out was at 12:10pm. I didn't know a whole lot about the city, but I went for one thing: to see the café that Vincent Van Gogh painted in his ever-so-famous painting. I did know, however, that the city would be full of richness and history. So when I got off the train, it was like a mad dash for anything worth seeing because I knew I didn't have much time.

I imagined Arles to be big and beautiful, with open spaces to breathe. When I got into the center of the city, though, it was far from that. I couldn't see anything but the buildings immediately surrounding me. I couldn't look very far. I felt really claustrophobic and unable to gain a sense of direction. I had imagined I'd be able to look around me, find the main street (as is often the case, from my experience), and walk down it, finding the big things to see along the way quite easily. NOT the case. I was on a mission to find this café, and I didn't know how long it would take me. So although I passed by the arena and some other important-looking things, I refused to spend the time until I found this café. I finally managed to get my hands on a map, and I did find the café. It was right around the corner form where I'd just been. I wanted to go inside. But unfortunately, it was so early in the day that not many people were out and about, so I felt silly. I took my pictures and moved on.

Using my map, I tried finding some other things having to do with Van Gogh. (He spent a lot of time in Arles, living and painting.) There's an old hospital there where Van Gogh was a patient, and a bridge a bit away from the center of town that he also painted. Both I wanted to see. I found them on the map, but I never managed to find them in real life. The streets were jsut too confusing and tight for me to easily navigate, especially with the limited time I had in Arles. I had to make quick decisions regarding whether it was worth the time trying to find something, risking not finding it at all and losing time to do something else. So I decided to go back and visit the things I knew I could find, the things I'd already passed. First, I went to the Roman theater. Pretty cool if you ask me.

Then, I headed over to the arena, which was also pretty awesome.

After that, I had about an hour before I knew I had to head back to the train station. I kept thinking about the coffee I wanted to get at Café Van Gogh, just to say I did it. I knew I would never forgive myself if I never went inside (although I'm sure I'll go back some day...), so I decided to just do it. I went inside, and I'll tell you, it was the most awkward café experience ever. First of all, it was huge and beautiful inside, which was neat. But there were two women working there. There were no other customers inside (I told you, it was early!), and the two people working were just sitting at tables across from each other, staring outside like they were just waaaaiting for someone to come in. I sat down, and on the wall across from me were five giant photographs of naked women. All right, we're in France. It's different here. But still, it was weird, considering there was no one else in there to look at, listen to, etc. I ordered my coffee, but we all know a French coffee takes about two seconds to finish. So I had to draw it out, otherwise it would be awkward to leave so quickly. I got out my phone and texted some people, got out a pen and paper and pretended to be writing down important things. Just tried to make myself look like I had good reason for having come in to get a coffee. Whatever, it was just weird. But by the time I decided to leave, it was pretty much time to go. So I walked along the river back to the train station, and off I was to my next destination: Aix en Provence!

But first, I changed trains in Marseille, where I had a delicious sandwich for lunch. I had enough time to step outside and soak in the greatness that is Marseille for a little bit. I was there once before. It was dirty and gross, but from the train station steps, it really looks great.

It was not a long ride to Aix. I loved Aix. I realized when I arrived that I'd completely forgotten about researching anything to do in Aix before leaving Lure. I had literally no idea what to expect or what was there. I do remember reading somewhere that Aix is the city that every French person wants to live in. And I can see why. Although it wasn't really warm weather and beautiful summer-ness like I'm sure it is in July, it was still an awesome city. It was just so perfect. I don't even know what I did while I was there. I shopped a bit. Book stores, clothing stores, you know. I decided to head to what looked on the map like the old part of the town. And any "old city" in a French city is always bound to be a hit! And it was. It was just so cute, and I'd arrived at the perfect time of day. People were out. Lunch was being served. Everything was great.

I stumbled upon the natural history museum and figured I'd go in. I had no other plans! So I did. I saw dinosaur bones, stuffed birds, snakes, leaves, fossils, and best of all... monkey skulls. Haha! I love looking at monkeys. Don't know why. They're just fascinating because they look like deformed humans.

I really don't know what else to say about Aix. It was just a great city I'd love to return to. And I know I will.

That night it was back to Avignon. Back to my cozy little hotel room. That second night I finally figured out how to turn the heat on in the room. The night before was rather miserable because I was freeeeezing. I thought the thing didn't work. Apparently you have to point the remote AT the heater to turn it on. haha I felt really dumb, but I guess I deserved it for not thinking to do it until I woke up in the middle of the night, half asleep and cold.

The next morning I went to Nîmes, where I stayed for the next two nights. I LOVED Nîmes. I don't know why, honestly. I think the weather had a lot to do with it. It was beautiful out. I didn't have to layer under my jacket. The city itself was incredibly interesting. I never knew how much history was in this part of France. I arrived just before 1pm, and I had the entire day to explore. It was great. No trains to catch, no busses to take, nothing. Just me and the city. :)

Grabbed a map, looked for something big, and walked toward it. It was the Roman arena. This is the best-preserved Roman arena there is. Didn't know that before I went there, but awesome!

I met a nice couple from Italy who asked me to take their picture outside the arena. This was one of those moments I felt great and that I felt like I tricked people into thinking I was French. Clearly these people were tourists, and their French sounded a little off. But it was cool to be viewed as a local (maybe, maybe not?) by another tourist. So after I took their picture, I asked them to do the same for me, and explained that since I'm traveling alone I have very few pictures of me in the places I've been! This is me with Nimeño, one of the best bullfighters of the time. They still have bull fights in this arena!

I went inside. It wasn't much different from every other Roman arena I've seen. And I'll say I'm glad I'm not going to Rome after my stay in Florence this June, because I've seen my share of Roman ruins and arenas. (Plus, I've already seen Rome anyway.) After a while they all start to look alike.

Next I headed to the Maison Carrée, the Square House. To be completely honest, I don't know the story behind it. But it's a must-see when you go to Nîmes, so here it is!

There was a 20-minute film inside about bullfighters and other fighters (sorry, I'm so bad at history) in ancient Nîmes. I was so fascinated with the history of this city that I later returned to the arena's gift shop to buy myself a map of Roman Gaule, which covers most of today's France, plus some. It has all the Roman names of the most important places, and it's just... interesting!

I continued on my way to the Tour Magne, which overlooks the city. I was quite a hike. First, I had to walk through this beautiful little park. I'm sure it would be more beautiful in the summer time, but it was beautiful nonetheless. There were so many people out, and kids playing ball and riding bikes!

And then it was up and up and up. Whoever's idea it was for me to travel with these non-walking boots was crazy. I wore out my feet so much, it was even hard to walk DOWN. But anyway, supposedly there was a magnificient view of the city from atop this tower. Okay, so I decided to walk to the top of it...

Inside, the steps were very small and narrow. I was thankful no one had to pass me walking down. A little girl stopped me about halfway up and told me to be carful because it's slippery on the steps, and at the top it's really small! Great. I had no clue what I was in for, I guess. But I finally made it to the top, and boy was she right. It was tiny. About five people could fit up there comfortably, but there were about ten or more of us up there. I was so out of breath from the steps, and it didn't help having no space to myself! Oh, and I'm tired of people telling me there's a fantastic panoramic view of a city from the top of some hill. The view is not that great! It's panoramic, yes. But all it is is a bunch of rooftops. I swear, every city I've seen from the top like that looks the same. I'm done falling for that trick. But I will say it's fun to be up there, just looking out over everything and thinking about the deeper meanings of life.

I made my way down, dropped off my new poster of Gaule in my hotel room, and headed back out to explore more parts of the city. My feet were hurting so bad now though, all I wanted to do was sit. So when 7:00 rolled around, I found somewhere to eat, even though it was rather early for a French dinner. I ate in a Vietnamese & Chinese restaurant. I love Chinese food, so I couldn't resist. And the price was right, so I was in. I was, once again, the only person there for quite some time. The waitor was really awesome though and talked to me about where I'm from and where he's from. He even came over to me and read my palm, telling me that in his culture (he's Vietnamese), this line on my palm means that I'm good at saving money. Haha! Not sure if that's right on or way off. You could look at it both ways I guess, but it was cool. Later he tried to teach me how to use chopsticks. He asked if I wanted any baguettes. Thanks to my love for Chinese food, I knew already he wasn't offering me any bread, but instead, chopsticks! I said no and that they're too difficult for me to use, but he insisted I try. He seriously spent at least ten minutes trying to get me to hold them properly. While I appreciated the gesture, I got really frustrated when he insisted I could do it and that it was easy. NO! I tried to explain that it was NOT EASY! Every time I tried to move the fingers I was supposed to move, the wrong fingers would move. I don't know if I'm just a defect in the chopstick world or what, but I eventually had to tell him I just wanted to eat! And so I did. It was delicious food, too.

It was kind of weird being in there alone with the waitor. It guess when you're with another person, you don't feel awkward because you are talking with someone and keeping busy, even if you're the only two in there. But alone, you're much more aware of your surroundings and who else is around you. Especially when there's no one!

I'd had this idea earler that I want to start interviewing French people and recording them for use in the classroom. Just them saying their name, age, where they're from and what they do. It would be great authentic material to use in a French class. I love using my own original materials from my own personal experiences in France. And I decided since this guy was Vietnamese, it would be perfect because I wanted to get a wide variety of people and nationalities. (It would also give students a chance to hear lot of different accents, even if they're foreign accents, in French.) Anyway, I finally got the nerve to ask him. And when I explained that I wanted people from different countries, he insisted I wait for his Swiss and Spanish friends to show up, which they would be doing shortly. Okay, that wasn't the point of me asking. I wanted to film HIM. But okay, now I couldn't say no. Very soon after, his Spanish friend came into the restaurant with a French woman. So he like forced me to explain my plan to them, and I ended up with videos of those two and NOT the Vietnamese guy. He didn't want to do it! Not too successful, but at least now I have an idea of how well this idea would work. I'm going to whip something up and make this plan work. Just you watch.

I was so tired and worn out from all the walking that day that I just went back to the hotel to sleep. But on my way, I couldn't resist taking these postcard-looking pictures.

As that was a night. Here's the view out my hotel window of the train station and a train that had just arrived. It was fun listening to the SNCF jingle all evening. :)

The next morning was fantastic. Since my hotel was so close to the train station, I just gingerly walked there only minutes before my train was scheduled to leave for Montpellier. I'd be returning to Nîmes that night, so it was nice not to have to bring my things with me.

Arrived in Montpellier. First of all, I grabbed a breakfast of two hot-off-the-press pains au chocolat. The most delicious pains au chocolat I've ever eaten. Seriously, I didn't know it was possible for them to taste so good. The chocolate was literally melting before it even reached my mouth. Mmmmm. I want one right now.

I was not impressed with Montpellier. Let me just say that I've never been anywhere in France where I've seen so many beggars. They were everywhere. And not just sitting on the sidewalk with a cup for coins. But people were coming up to me (and everyone else) constantly asking for money. Even kids! And yes, I know this happens a lot. But it was way more than I'm used to. These annoying kids trying to help me buy a tramway ticket wouldn't get out of my face. I wanted to punch them. And when I told them I could do it myself, they just asked for money. And there were people all over trying to get me to do surveys or something. NO. NO. NO!

Okay sorry. That was my overall impression of Montpellier, so I had to get it out of my system asap. Anyway, it was a pretty city. I wandered around, found some things I thought were worthy of seeing, and that was really about it. Really though, I was so done with walking places. My feet felt like they were going to fall off. Everywhere I went, I walked so slow. I had two blisters on my feet by this point, one on each foot. The weird thing is, they weren't in places I'd typically imagine getting blisters. They were on the bottoms of two of my toes, and different toes on each foot! So anywhere I stepped, it just hurt like crazy. (Luckily though they hadn't opened, which would have been worse I think.) Here are some lovely gems I stumbled upon:

I had  great lunch, I will say. And it was very relaxing and enjoyable. I ate outside at a restaurant at Place de la Comédie, a big square of pedestrians and cafés. I sat facing the main foot traffic, just watching people walk by. (And people even came up to me THERE asking for money.) I enjoyed a fantastic emmental crêpe and a delicious (and I really mean delicious) butter and sugar crêpe for dessert. LOVED IT! And so did my feet.

I had a few hours left to go, and really nothing left to do. So I decided to take the tram to the zoo. Like I told you before, these two kids kept coming up to me trying to show me how to buy a ticket. I WAS SO ANNOYED! I knew how to buy a ticket. Nowhere did I ever express a need for help. It wasn't difficult at all, and when I tried telling them I could do it myself, one of the boys looked at me and said, "English?" Like he was trying to put the machine in English for me so I could buy a ticket. I told him no. In French. And really, I'm not English. I SPEAK English, but this boy was pissing me off. Sorry, but KIDS should not be begging for money. What I wanted to say was, "No, I earned this money. Go to school, earn your own money, and leave me alone you little brat." (Sorry, no adult beggars have ever even annoyed me as much as these kids.) And they weren't like, depressing little kids moping around. They were full of energy, like they were trying to cause trouble. Reminded me of Pepito from my Madeline movies I used to watch as a kid. Then, when I got to the bus station and was reading the map, this guy comes up to me and asks me to fill out this survey. I told him no, and he looked at me, puzzled, and asked if I was German, Italian, English, Spanish, etc. No. I'm not. He was so baffled. Couldn't figure out why I didn't sound perfectly French, could still speak and be understood in French, but why I was none of these other nationalities. It's very possible he was asking about the language and not the nationality, but I don't care! I wouldn't have told him yes even if he'd asked if I were American!

Anyway, I made it to the zoo and spent a couple hours there. It was a strange zoo. This is what you had to walk through to get from animal to animal:

And all I wanted to so was see the lion. With my sore sore feet, walked ever so slowly to find the lion, only to learn he wasn't there at the moment. Oh well. It was really fun to see so many families out and about, kids getting all excited about the animals there were to see.

Back in town, I grabbed myself a dessert from Quick. You know, the best dessert in France? I think I've mentioned it before. But I swear it will remain the best French dessert for all time. Then I enjoyed the musical entertainment at Place de la Comédie once again.

I got back to Nîmes around 7pm. Something hilarious happened. I was at the train station, ready to go back in and sleep for the night (I was absolutely EXHAUSTED), and I was walking toward this guy. I glanced at him and thought to myself that he looks like someone I once knew, someone who studied abroad with me in Pau but who I haven't seen since. I thought there was no way it could be him, but he looked at me too, and looked as if he were about to say something. I debated. Then I thought, ah what the heck, so I said to him, in English (was I really that sure?!), "Are you who I think you are?" He looked at me completely shocked, like he had no clue what to say. haha! Okay, so clearly it was a stranger. I explained to him (in French this time) what just happened. We both laughed about it, and he was relieved because he'd thought to himself, "Oh my gosh, what did I just do?!" It was a good way to end my day. I walked back to the hotel (aka across the street!) laughing out loud to myself the whole way.

The next day on the way home, I transfered trains twice. First in Lyon, the train station I hate because it's just so huge. But I realized I don't really hate it. I just hate it when I'm in a hurry. It's a lot more relaxing when you have 40 minutes to kill waiting for your next train to be posted. From Lyon to Belfort, I sat next to this man and his two kids who most people probably thought were too loud and annoying. But I liked it. They were laughing the whole time and talking. And I like listening to kids speak French. It's fun because you don't hear it too often, unless you're in France. (Same goes I guess for adults, but you see adults on the news and tv and stuff much more than kids.) The man even offered me a piece of his gâteau arabe, Arab cake. Almonds and delicious gooeyness were inside. It was fantastic.

At that was my trip.