En fait...c'est la vie

En fait....c'est la vie

I have now been in France for nearly two months...now that is just what one could only call 'incroyable' (unbelievable). Time really is flying as the days where I feel like a lost puppy are becoming few and far between. Days in Nancy are beginning to form a structure and communication with Frenchies is becoming mildly less terrifying. I can not seem to explain why or how my French seems to be improving, as my efforts until late consisted of intermittent lecture attendance and talking to Frenchies in previously mentioned nightclubs, where after a few Vin Rosés my french becomes quasi-fluent. I would have to put it down to my continuing curiosity as to what people might be saying - basically, I'm a nosy parker. 

 I have, despite all promises, taken up rowing in the last few weeks, and the boat house has become a strange familiarity full of pain inflicting machines, performance rowers and well - boats. It is a place where I am forced to speak french with no safety net of a fellow Brit Kid, I often feel slightly out of my comfort zone at the boat club, terrified that my new friends will become bored of attempting to understand my ridiculous Franglais. Thus far, everyone has been most understanding and incredibly patient, telling me words for 'blades', 'bench press' and 'watering can' and explaining their somewhat strange methods of training. Rowing is to say the least, very different to what I am used to in good old Blighty, but i am very much enjoying it and they seem to be very happy that I have joined, fascinated by my British technique...'you use our legs first, its very interesting'....and impressed with what I achieved with my crews in Britain. In fact, I'm off to Switzerland and South-East France to compete against Europe's finest in November. Yes, rowing has invaded my Erasmus year. 

I am currently on a train back from Montpellier where I spent my last weekend visiting my lovely friend Liv, from Reading who is also studying abroad, for her 21st birthday. I left for Montpellier on Thursday m on a night train, first experience of such a thing, very exciting but also very sleep depriving! A night train in France consists on a series of cabins containing, six bunk beds, one of which would be my bed for the evening. My ticket booking allowed me to state that I am a 'dame (woman travelling alone), and was therefore sharing with only other women. Women that insisting on snoring loudly enough to ensure I got no sleep on my ten hour voyage. I was also made aware of the rumours of crime rates on night trains, so spent to whole night hugging my valuables to my chest, like some sort of squirrel guarding a nut. Suffice to say, I did not come face to face with any such crime statistic, thankfully. 

Anyway, we had a great weekend, discovering Montpellier, hanging out with a new group of Brit Kidz and in my case insisting on believing it was still summer despite the drop in temperature in the sunny med. I am proud to say that on sunday morning I was able to cure my hangover with a crazy swim in the sea and succeeding in shocking the fully (and more appropriately) dressed French families on their sunday strolls!! Montpellier is a great student city, where all languages can be heard being spoken, the weather is lovely and mild in October and the whole city screams French Urban Cool with a hint of holiday ambiance. Just what the doctor ordered for my oh-so-hard-life.

Anyway, best stop waffling, approaching my homeland NANCY VILLE! It is 8pm and I must crack out 'copie-double' essay on French separation of powers for tomorrow morning (8am) - WHEN will I learn to be organised....jamais. 

Bisous kidz xxxx

Oktoberfest...3 days for 8 hours....

So aside from the vigorous day to day lifestyle of an Erasmus law student, I have chosen to make use this year of the fact there no longer lies the English Channel between myself and mainland Europe. This will obviously be put to more use on receiving my Erasmus grant which after said expensive adventures, I eagerly await. Nevertheless, I would not dare allow such a trivial factor such as money to prevent me from sampling some of Europe’s finest cultural activities....

Oktoberfest, for example, obviously a very cultural, educational and thought provoking experience for any youth of today. In fact, you may be surprised to hear that despite my sarcastic tones, in reality, Oktoberfest was all of the above, in its own very very special way. After a week of heavy partying and studying (obvs) through the week, we set off for Munich, Germany at around 10pm last Friday night, beers in hand and blissfully unaware of the tumultuous bus journey that lay ahead. To say that this French bus driver was a lunatic would be an understatement. He insisted on the heating being on full blast, drove as if he were playing a computer game, and absolutely loved reversing for no apparent reason. At one of the toilet stops, I woke up from my slumber to find he had managed to drive us into what can only be described as a building yard, enclosed with big metal gates. He then proceeded to instruct one of our fellow passengers to open these gates while he reversed (without reason) out of the building sight with such force that I prepared myself for the bus to roll! To make matters worse, the Serbian girls sat in front of us clearly did not read up on bus etiquette before boarding a bus with Brits as it is clearly not OK to recline your seat to its full potential of reclination, leaving the person sat behind you (me) with absolutely no room and less than impressed.

So we eventually made it Munich at around 7am, a little bit dazed and consumed with fatigue, confused as to what we would do with ourselves for the next few hours. Before we set off, however, we were provided with a complimentary Petit Déjuner, consisting of a carton of pomme juice, a piece of baguette and literally 4 squares of chocolate! Too tired to question this choice of breakfast, I consumed it happily!

Our confusion was soon put to rest as we realised the Germans like to start their day early, Oktoberfest included, the party started at 9am! And if we wished to be included in the party and as we decided to go on the busiest day of the entire festival, we would have to queue for approximately 2 hours! We chose to queue for the tent with the biggest queue as we concluded that the Germans knew the best and the time passed fairly quickly as we people-watched the crowds of Germans dressed in their fabulously traditional gear and giggled at the security woman nearby who had taken her position of power way too seriously! Once inside the tent (it was more like a castle!) we were taken aback by the electric atmosphere; people running and diving to get a table for the day, the music from the bandstand in the centre of the massive room and the smell of pretzels and beer swarmed through the air. In Germany, there will be no queuing at a bar to wait for your massively oversized stein beer, a man with enormous strength will come to your table and bring you one in exchange for a mere 9.40 Euros. Excellent!

So three steins later, a load of chanting and cheering pretending to know the words to the traditional German songs and having made friends with three hilarious German chaps, we were well of our way to experiencing the delights of Oktoberfest. My delight was temporarily interrupted when some fool from the next table was sick on my arm – possibly the grossest thing ever. I just washed it off with lots of Oktoberfest soap and got on with my day! Clearly no French practice occurred during our day as everyone spoke German and obviously all Germans can speak English too – show offs! The general atmosphere, togetherness and the traditional influence was really outstanding, everybody was in good spirits and overjoyed to welcome foreigners to their festival. Im not sure that a beer festival with such tradition would follow the same format in Britain!

I for one, despite my overbearing fatigue from lack of sleep on torture bus, was NOT ready to leave. But at 5pm, after sampling a few rides and eating a Bratwurst something or other, we once again boarded the torture bus to endure a further 10 hours of sleep-deprived, slightly tipsy to begin with then hung-over travelling back to Nancy. It is now Tuesday, and I am still recovering from the approximately 8 hours I spent in Munich but I would, without doubt, do it all again! But for now, I am looking forward to Tom’s arrival tomorrow and to show him with pride, my new home!

Bisous xxxx