Avignon, Nice and Friendly Faces

It’s been over a month since I last posted and it’s gone both very slowly and very fast at the same time. In that time I’ve had quite a few people messaging me and asking me why I haven’t been blogging as much. Truth is, when you’re on your year abroad it becomes normal and you settle into a routine and daily life as you would at home. It’s not all singing all dancing all the time, as you would expect it to be.

View from the gardens

Avignon was pretty!

Pont d'Avignon

Only kidding. I’m now going to gloat about my highflying yah abroad weekend trips of the last few weeks and three wonderful visitors who made their appearances too!

Georgina and I

Palais des Papes

Almost a month ago, a group of my friends decided to climb Monte Sainte Victoire. So I decided to catch a bus to Avignon with my friend Georgina (I’m not being philosophical here, me myself & I and all that, I actually made a friend). Due to timetabling issues we were only there for less than two hours, but we managed to dash around the historic centre, seeing the bridge (which just stressed me out, see above) and the Palais des Papes. We then got back to Aix and ate for the rest of the afternoon. Pfft, who needs a hike when you’ve got pizza? It’s a no brainer.  In all seriousness though, Avignon was lovely. I would have liked to spend a bit more time there, but at that point the Christmas markets weren’t open and there wasn’t much to do. We saw some very impressive buildings though, and got to see a pretty spectacular panorama from the gardens of the palace. I also really wanted to pay a visit because my godmother spent her year abroad there, and I’d heard great things!

Thank you Carrefour

Two weeks ago now, Chloe, my longstanding best friend (of almost a decade, the poor girl) flew all the way here from Frankfurt to live it up with me on the Côte d’Azur for a weekend. Having told her I was going to meet her at the bus station in Aix, I felt pretty smug when, stood in the arrivals hall of Marseille Airport, she walked in to see me, completely taken aback. Mwahaha. Naturally the first thing we decided to do was seek out anything non-French that we could. First we went and sat in an American coffee shop, and then we went to Carrefour and were genuinely excited when we arrived at the ‘Foods of the World’ section and saw the Union Jack, in all its glory, flying proudly over a plethora of Jacobs Cream Crackers and Sharwoods sauces. Imagine us running up the aisle in slow motion to Chariots of Fire and you’ve pretty much got the situation spot on. For future reference, and I can tell you this from experience here, there is nothing weirder than getting emotional when seeing a tin of Heinz Baked Beans in a French supermarket and picking it up in a way that suggests that you’re about to recreate the opening scene from The Lion King.  We got some very weird looks when taking our selfie in front of the flag. No shame.

Things got more exciting when Chloe spotted a deal on BNs, those long lost face shaped biscuits which inexplicably disappeared from British supermarkets all those years ago.  Problem is, when you get excited about a biscuit that has always been available in France and then try and explain your excitement to your French landlady, she just thinks you’ve got OCD; obsessive confectionery disorder. It doesn't help things when you have the same reaction to multipacks of Ben and Jerry's and Cadbury's chocolate. Of course we still bought a shed load of junk and then headed back to the apartment for a raclette* with my host family and some of their friends.

*Raclette= similar to fondue, you melt cheese in little pots and pour it over potato and meats and other French goodies.

Cathédrale Sainte-Reparante

Raclette

If only burning it made it better

No, really, this is art

The next day we made our way to France’s fifth largest city, Nice. With the help of a great little tourist organization called Découverte de la Provence, we paid 25 euros each and for that we got a return trip to Nice and Eze with a free tour of a perfumery thrown in. Not too shabby! Nice wasn’t what I expected at all though, which I’m going to put down to the time of year we visited. Famous for it’s flower markets and clear blue waters, we were far away from this idyllic image. The only way I could try and explain the weather that day is by asking you to picture a day trip at Formby Point beach. Get the picture? I’ve never looked more windswept in my life, which I would suggest is quite an achievement. Claire, Chloe and I decided, after walking round the Museum of Contemporary Art and not understanding how most of the objects in their could be considered as ‘art’, to try a nicois delicacy; socca. To put this in perspective, for the whole two hours of the bus ride into Nice, our tour guide was explaining to us that nothing beats the truly unique, Italian inspired crêpe made from chickpea flour, which can only be sampled in Nice. When we eventually sat down to eat some, I understood why it was truly unique; clearly the rest of the continent have come to their senses and realised that a grainy, sponge like, flavourless pancake is not something to rave about.

At Villefranche-sur-Mer

Not quite Marilyn Monroe

Marzipan creations in Nice

Fragonard boutique

We then left Nice and headed to Eze, where we visited the Fragonard perfumery, which overlooks the Meditteranean. It was an interesting tour but it only lasted 10 minutes, so we hiked up the mountain (not an exaggeration) to the old town of Eze and had a drink. After two hours in a bus with various people falling asleep awkwardly on their neighbours, Claire, Chloe and I headed to Coco Bohème, my new favourite place in Aix, for a Nutella hot chocolate and a game of French Scrabble (I got the best word, PISTOLET).  Not much to say about Sunday; we slept and then we ate crêpes at the House of Haagen Dazs. It was a good day.

Soapy eggs (don't ask)

Absolutely bossed it

And then last weekend my parents finally came to visit! They loved Aix, which was lucky, seeing as I’d planned for us to go to Lyon to see the Fête des Lumières, but our plans were foiled by yet another bloody strike. So we stayed around Aix doing lots of shopping but mainly eating.  We tried a couple of new restaurants; la Fromagerie, which does as it says on the tin, and Côté Cour, which was by far the best food I’ve eaten in France so far. It was particularly nice having them here, because they’ve spent the last four months hearing about Aix, but not really knowing where I was. It’s also really nice to be able to share where you are so that people actually understand when you talk about it afterwards.

Food...

This is how a real Croque Monsieur looks

...and more food still.

...more food...

Things are starting to get Christmassy here in the south of France! The markets here in Aix, although significantly less impressive than their Mancunian counterparts (holla) have provided the opportunity to experience many Provençal delicacies all in one place. To clarify, I mean drinking vin chaud and passing it off as a cultural experience.

I still love life in France, even though exams are looming and it’s almost time to say au revoir to everyone that I’ve met here.  My first big exam is a week today, and I’m headed home for Christmas next week, so no more weekends away for me unfortunately. It’s suddenly hit me that I’ve got less than 3 weeks left here in total and it makes me very sad! But I can safely say that I’ve made the most of it and I’ve got a hell of a lot out of it. I think I would feel a lot worse about leaving France for good if I wasn’t moving to Italy. I am SO excited for that. Trento looks beautiful and honestly I don’t think I would have made the most of my time here in the way that I have if I knew I had a year here. For me, a year abroad in the same place would be a bit over facing. So, the last thing for me to say is, cheers France, you’ve been a blast, Italy I’m coming for you in just over a month, and England- I’ll see you next week!

Language Blunder:

I would say that this will be my last one, but realistically I still have three weeks and I’m sure this section will play a major role throughout the documentation of my Italian adventures!

A few weeks ago my landlady wasn’t feeling very well, she had a fever. I tried to tell her that I used to heat up a lavender cushion in the microwave that my Grandma had given me years ago and it would make me feel better. However, due to a pronunciation error, I instead told her that when I have a fever I pour boiling cooking oil over myself. It’s almost poetic.