Goal of the weekend: confuse the Marvejolais?

Five friends of mine came to visit me in Marvejols this weekend. Nothing like a weekend in the countryside to get away from the bustling city life. As my friends drove up to the school late Saturday afternoon, they got to see what my life is really like in Marvejols. I dragged the big metal gate open to the school grounds and let the travellers in. Unlocked the building and took them up five flights of stairs to the dorm part of the school and into my room with its bed and one chair. We then went to my fridge. And by my fridge, I mean the mini-fridge in the teachers room, four flights down. There you go, c'est ma vie. They obviously found my living situation hilarious, and who wouldn't? I literally. live. in. a. middle. school. We ate our dinner of Roquefort cheese (that they had picked up in the town of Roquefort on their way) and other various items that didn't need to be cooked. I must say, drinking wine in the school, felt more than a little strange.

I then took them on a tour of the town. The highlights: the old doors to the city, the "centre ville," the wolf statue and the esplanade. In our journey, we saw maximum eight people, on a Saturday night, at around 9pm. Oh Marvejols. We stopped in the one bar in town, the Daytona (pause for laughter) and as we walked in, we were greeted like celebrities. Everyone was staring and pointing at us, and even waving at us? Six, blatantly non-French young adults in rural France on a Saturday night. We understood the confusion.

We went back to my lovely middle school to hang out in my room again and watched a movie in the students "rec room" where we all promptly fell asleep on sleeping bags and whatever blankets I could find in the school's laundry room. I can't even imagine what we looked like.

The next morning we woke up relatively early to start our day. We hung out in the teachers room having breakfast and coffee and headed on our way to trek up the "mountain." The hike was extremely enjoyable and I got to explore the old farm ruins some more now that I had back-up with me. The view from the top of the mountain is beautiful! You can see how small Marvejols really is. After we started getting extremely cold we headed down the mountain and back to the middle school. Lunch consisted of baguettes and cheese (typique) and microwavable pizzas, because as I must reiterate, I don't have a kitchen.

Next, we hopped into Susanna's car and drove to a nearby lake that I've randomly been to. We wanted to go to the wolf park (that Marvejols is so famous for) but it is closed in January. Literally the only times it closes during the year. Sigh. To the lake! The lake was frozen and beautiful and I'm pretty sure we found some tracks from la bete de Gevaudan (the beast of Gevaudan, the "wolf" or whatever, that terrorized the region in the 1800s). After freezing there for a while, we drove off and saw a sign leading toward a chateau. I had heard there was a castle somewhere near Marvejols, so this had to be it! Indeed it was. Chateau de la Baume, the Versailles of Gevaudan, according to my guide book. In the summer maybe, but honestly it was a cold looking castle that was surrounded by cow fields. Obviously very cool and impressive, but compared to Versailles? Not so much. After confusing the residents of the castle by running around the grounds for about an hour, our feet were cold from the snow and it was getting late. The friends packed up their affairs and were off, back to civilization and Montpellier. It was great to have them here and to have people see what my life is actually like in Lozere.

A Walk on the Wild Side.

So, a few of my friends from Montpellier are coming up to Marvejols to visit me this weekend. In anticipation of this, I decided to scope out the hiking trails in Marvejols to keep us occupied. The town is in a valley so it is surrounded by mountains, hills really. So, I set off. I crossed the river and found what looked to be a path and commenced my adventure.

I started the slow climb up and realized the path was some sort of exercise path, meaning every few hundred feet there was an activity for the hiker to do, like lift your arms while walking, etc. I didn't participate. I winded my way up the hill until I saw this really cool stone wall at the ridge of the top of the hill. The path didn't seem to be going there, so I off-roaded a little bit and climbed my way up through the brush. And what did I find at the top of the hill??

Pretty much the coolest thing ever. I stumbled immediately into an old, abandonned stone house, complete with fire place and windows. I was incredibly proud of my discovery! I looked up and saw that the house was in front of a field that was enclosed by stone walls. I found an old farm! Well I started walking along the walls and discovered that there were many enclosed fields with many little old, abandonned houses. Too cool. As I was walking along one of the highest walls, I heard a weird scream in the distance. Picture this: me, alone, on the top of a deserted mountain, rural france, creepy scream. I looked around and there was obviously nothing. I kept on my exploring getting more and more excited with every new field and house. Everytime I heard this weird scream though, I would stop and look around. I figured it was a cow, what else could it be... a wolf??

Finally, I'm creeping around on the top of this house when I hear the scream again, I look up and about 100 feet away from me is a pack of people... coming towards me... not looking happy... the leader making the weird cow screaming noise. Suddenly it is clear. I am not welcome here, especially not by myself walking all over the walls. I run down the side of the wall and realized I had no idea how to get away, I sprinted across a field and up another stone wall. Fortunately I stumbled directly on to a path that lead me down the mountain. Needless to say, I ran until I was sure no one was following me.

Background story of why I was scared and ran: So, the French island of Corsica is located just west of Italy in the Mediterranean. It is mainly a vacation island for French people in the summer. Corsicans are an interesting sort of people. The island is always fighting for autonomy and they really don't like outsiders. When I was studying in Aix, my friends and I decided to spend a week in a small town in Corsica called Porto Vecchio. We had no problems with locals, but I've heard some horror stories! My French teacher in Aix said she was once in Corisca hiking and she was about to take a picture of a man on a horse that was leading a caravan through the mountains when the man took out a shotgun and pointed it at her! This story, and this story alone, made me run from these Lozerians. Who knew what they thought I was doing, I looked pretty weird.

Anyway, I'm bringing my friends back there tomorrow and hopefully I will be far less creeped out and no cow screaming strangers will arrive. Gotta love my Lozerian adventures.

Real Quick

I know I talk a lot about food on this blog, but I have to inform my followers of what I ate for dinner tonight in the cafeteria: a hotdog, cut open with melted cheese and wrapped in bacon. I'll let you think about that heart attack while pondering if French people really are that healthy.

Things I Love About France.

Okay, okay. It's very easy to complain about France and the cultural and social differences between France and the US, but it's not half bad, really! Before I discuss why I love France, let me point out a few French stereotypes that I have found to be true.

1. French people smoke, a lot. When I take my train to and from Montpellier, people get off the train for the 3 minute stops just to smoke a half of a cigarette. When they have twenty minutes, they smoke two. When the train doesn't stop, they smoke on the train.
2. French people love wine, and why not?? Yes, they can be wine snobs, but honestly, what's better than '90 Chateau Margaux? Not much. Well, what is amusing is the fact that wine is served at lunch in our cafeteria. Mind you, it's only the men who drink it, but it is still strange to see.
3. French people complain, a lot. We all complain, it's true, but myyy goddd. Quote from my orientation made by one of the region's teachers "Yeah, it's crazy because we only get paid for 18 hours of work, but we work at least 25!" Pause. QUOI? Teachers in America work far more than that, get paid less (in general) and have fewer benefits, not to mention a fraction of the vacation time! Oh la la, 25 hours, I can't even imagine!
4. French bread is the most delicious bread on earth. Deal with it. Same goes for the cheese.
5. French people really like to go on strike. This is not true for my school, fortunately. For example, there is a strike on Thursday for the teachers of the Montpellier region, all the teachers at my school laughed and said they had nothing to strike for. As for my other assistant friends elsewhere? Either half of their classes are cancelled or their entire day. I once got caught in a wine makers strike... they had flare guns. I once thought I saw a Santa strike, but fortunately it was just a parade of Santas. Anyway, the word "greve" means strike, and on any given day someone or some group is "en greve" some where in France. Go google "greve" and see what I mean.

Okay, now for why I love France.
1. The food. France is really protective of its agriculture and its national products. Everything is controlled by the government and has to meet a certain standard. Wine is A.O.C. (Appellation d'Origine Controllee), cheese and meat are similar. Walking down the aisles of the supermarket, everything is either "bio" (organic) or without added colors or preservatives, and it's still pretty cheap! My new favorite obsession is this boxed soup I found. All natural, "bio" and sans anything added like the crap we have in the US. All this for 2,50€, I throw in a little Cantal jeune fromage (2€), I have three amazing meals. Alright, the cafeteria food I eat is beyond disgusting, but if I had my own kitchen, oh I'd be a happy little clam.
2. The transportation. Though transportation is pretty minimal in Lozere, I get around just fine. When I lived in Aix, the transportation was beyond amazing. I could get a bus to Marseille every 5 minutes! Montpellier is a little off of the main train lines, but I can still get to Paris is 3.5 hours for about 30 euros. Not to mention Ryanair, the most amazing invention of all time. Though this airline may cause me more than a few headaches, the fact that I'm flying from London to Dublin in February for £2 is absurd.
3. The cities. America is, obviously, a pretty new country so the oldest structures are maximum, what 350 years old? I look out my window in Marvejols and I can see a church that was built in the 13th century. In Aix, I went to school in the same square as a church built in the 5th century. Everything is just so old and extraordinary. The cities are so bright, filled with marble and cleaned meticulously (minus Marseille). There is nothing more wonderful than getting lost in the tiny winding streets of Montpellier.
4. My vacation time. Though it is more than excessive (two weeks off for every six weeks worked), who wouldn't love tons of vacation! I find it strange that pretty much everyone is on vacation in August and the country practically shuts down; however a solid two weeks off for the winter holidays is a must. What is frustrating is many people don't realize how good they've got it here in France. Most workers automatically get 6 weeks paid vacation, can you imagine?!? Plus most only work at 35 hour work week... and yet there are continuous strikes, curious people, the French.
5. The wine, obviously. The fact that I can spend 2,50€ on a bottle of red wine and it doesn't taste like lighter fluid makes France automatically an amazing country.
6. The butter.

There are obviously hundreds of more things I love about this country, but I'll leave it at that for now.

The Dam.

Amsterdam, how to describe this city. I will say it's definitely in my top five cities I've ever been to (London and Paris being two others, I'm leaving the other two spots open for good measure.) Our first real night there, we spent it in a "hostel." I emphasize the quotations on that because it really was an attic with five beds, a "bathroom" and a window. I think the rest of the building was a hotel, but honestly, none of us could figure out what was going on. We were on at least the fifth floor of this building and the floor was extremely slanted. The next morning we decided to find another place to house ourselves. After frantic searching for cheap hostels, which were unfindable due to the New Year's celebration coming up, I minorly scammed a woman into telling us where we could find the cheapest hotel without paying her 25 euros for finding it for us. The Tourist Inn was located very close to both the center of Amsterdam (Dam Square), the train station and its own little private red light district. Oh Amsterdam.

After finding our hostel, we set out to find bikes to rent. We formed our little bike gang and were off to surely terrorize the residents and tourists of Amsterdam. Many people may know, I'm not the strongest biker... a certain friend (Allison...) may or may not have a huge scar on her leg from when I crashed into her. Needless to say, I was nervous. I stayed toward the back of our pack at first and eventually got used to it. We busted around Amsterdam all afternoon on those bikes. We went through a huge park (which was also covered in snow and ice, tricky), went to a market and eventually ended up at the Heineken Brewery. The brewery was really cool, we learned how the beer was made, got to see all the vintage bottles and learned how to properly drink a beer (the foam is there for a reason, apparently!)

After dinner, we decided to check out the infamous Red Light District. Interesting. I was well protected by the boys and to be honest, it was more touristy than anything. Strange place Amsterdam. But just to be careful, if at any point someone got uncomfortable or there was sketchy situation, we had a code word: Christmas Tree. It was said more than once.
The next day was our day for the Van Gogh museum. I love Van Gogh especially because he lived in Southern France and painted many things I have seen before while studying abroad in Aix. His paintings look like Provence (if a little trippy) and it made me so happy to see them again! I put on my iPod and listened to some tunes as I ventured through the four story museum. After the museum we walked around a little more but were pretty tired. The next day I had an early flight to Liverpool... the boys' flight was 6 hours later... so it was often to a new city and country all together! Next stop, Altrincham?

The Big D.

Dusseldorf. What did we know about the double deuce? Not a whole lot. Our guide book said there was good nightlife and we knew it was on the Rhine. Now that I've seen this little city, what can I say? It was an interesting place.

After getting off the train, we set out... to do what? I don't remember, but I think we were looking for a hostel. Certain members of our entourage decided we didn't need a map, they wanted to just "feel" the city. Have I mentioned my bag yet? Being on vacation for three weeks and being a girl, I had a lot of stuff. Not to mention my boots got a hole in them so I had to lug them around with me for two weeks. My bag couldn't weigh more than 10kg (22 lbs) in order to fly on Ryanair and Easyjet (discount airlines), so I cut it close with my 9.8 kg bag. I threw this sucker over my shoulder for two weeks while the smart boys had backpacks and far fewer clothes. Anyway, after wandering for 2 hours, we decided to go back to the train station to find our bearings. Certain members of the group (me included) were ready to give up and just go back to Amsterdam, however, we decided to give finding our hostel one more shot.

Five hours after arriving in Dusseldorf, we find our hostel. Immediate nap. In our wanderings we were able to see really cool parts of the city, so it was a nice tour, just a heavy tour. After our crucial nap, we set out for dinner and to discover some good local beer. We went to this brewery where the waiters don't let you have an empty glass and they tally your count on a coaster. The beer was poured from huge wooden barrels, very cool. After this, we passed by an Irish pub, blasting karaoke. After our success in karaoke in Cologne, we ventured inside. The boys sang "You've Lost that Loving Feeling" (like the scene from Top Gun), and after that performance, it was time for us to leave.

We met three German students who showed us around to the best local spots and we hung out by the Rhine. Dusseldorf was turning out to be a cool place! Then on our walk home, we had a little hiccup. An extremely intoxicated German man thought one of my friends spit on him, false accusation. A minor scuffle ensued that was quickly stopped by the police. The intoxicated man was immediately arrested and we were asked if we wanted to press charges, thank you German police! We didn't want to be held up so we declined and headed on our way. Oh Dusseldorf. (P.S. no one was hurt!)

The next morning we lugged our bags back to the train station and were on our way back to Amsterdam until the 30th. We had tons to do in only three days and we really needed some rest! But rest is for the weak and we trudged on.

Where to begin... Cologne!

Yesterday, I got back from my Christmas vacation. With all my visa mishaps plus my actual vacation time, I have not worked in three weeks; needless to say, I was glad to be home. I really missed my kids! Not to mention access to showers and laundry whenever I please. But, it was amazing and now where to start in summarizing my holiday break...

The night before I left to meet up with my friends in Amsterdam, those of us who were still in Montpellier went to the weekly quiz night at one of the English pubs. We were not the strongest of the usual group when it comes to this quiz, so we were expecting maybe an 8th out of 12. After they announced the 12 through 2, we figured they must have left us out, because honestly, we did not do very well. But no, "The Team Formally Known as Maltese Magic" won the pub quiz! It goes with out saying, but we were shocked, and thrilled! However, the prize is a bottle of whiskey... not so thrilling. After the quiz, I trekked back to Lisa's and finally got in touch with my friends I was meeting up with. Three hours of sleep later, I was off to the train station to go to Marseille, then a bus to the airport, a plane to Eindhoven, Holland and a bus to Amsterdam (where I met the most beautiful Dutch boy that exists... I digress).

I wandered the city for a while as I had three hours to kill before my friends would arrive. I got back to the train station at the time we had agreed on to find no friends. Two hours later, many frantic texts to friends in France and one angry voicemail to Justin, the four boys arrived. We found a hostel, really an appartment, and headed out to walk around the city. Let me pause here. This trip was organized by these boys who live in England and it was difficult to find out what exactly we were doing, so if these next few posts seem scattered and like we were all over the place, it's because we were.

The next morning, we were off to the train station again. Destination: anywhere in Germany. We decided to get into Germany first before we decided which city we wanted to go to. After looking through a five pound book, we decided on Cologne for Christmas Eve and Day. Cologne has a huge Cathedral and one of Europe's biggest Christmas markets; also apparently the Gay capital of Europe, great for the boys (joking), though we didn't find this out till after we left. We went to Christmas mass at a beautiful church down the street from our hostel. Mass was, obviously, in German, thus impossible to understand, but it was really cool to be there. They sang the same songs we sing in America, slightly modified, but we were able to participate anyway. After, we had the traditional Christmas Eve dinner of Chinese food. Exhausted from our travels, we decided on a quick nap for heading out for the night. 14 hours later, it was Christmas and our nap turned into the whole night.

The next morning was Christmas and we ventured off into the city for our unofficial walking tour, led by our mapman, John. We were led all around the city, through churches and the huge commercial center. I got Dunkin Donuts real coffee and a bagel, Merry Christmas to me! Cologne is Germany's fourth biggest city, but it was pretty desserted due to the holiday. We decided to venture down towards the Rhine where we found part of the Christmas market open! We got hot wine and some German food and celebrated. We attempted ice skating, though Ricky was the only person who could do it successfully, my ankles kept turning in, I swear.

We had pizza for dinner, were directed to a shady bar by the pizza lady and eventually found ourselves at a karaoke bar. Merry Christmas!! Cologne was an awesome city, but it was time to move on. A little city called Dusseldorf was calling our names and we were off the next day for another adventure...