Journey to Wales via St Malo

I didn't get to update before I left. My apologies. It was kind of crazy trying to get everything together.

This past Sunday I finally visited le château here in Angers. I went with Robert, Jaime, and Theodra, another américaine studying here. Those of you on facebook will have already had the opportunity to see a few. For those of you who haven't, here's a few:

I won't go into great detail about the castle. For those of you who are actually interested, you can probably find a lot of info online. I will, however, share a little about the tentures de l'apocalyspe, since I wasn't able to get any good photos of them. This series of tapestries was commissioned in the 13th century (I think). The relate the story of the book of Revelations, in keeping with all of the symbology. The tapestries start out with Saint John, sitting and writing. St John appears in almost every scene, book in hand, sometimes eating it, recording everything he sees. The seven churches, the horsemen, the seals, vials, bowls, beasts, whore, all of it. There are some scenes missing, due to what I suppose to be the deterioration of the fabric. All in all, it's quite a site to see. They're huge, and at the same time, a lot of the work is very detailed.

Monday through Wednesday was spent trying to get my schoolwork out of the way. I also submitted my class schedule. It's do or die now. I opted to leave la littérature comparée by the wayside. I'm replacing it with a class on the Renaissance and another ancien français class. Hopefully it'll work out. Time will tell.

I got my first chapter analysis back from my Montaigne class. Lots of red. All the same, the prof said I had understood fairly well. But I made a lot of grammaire mistakes. He was kind enough to point them out. I submitted another one this week. And I've got a commentaire composé due the week I get back from the UK. Speaking  off...

I left yesterday at around 4pm. I had wanted to leave earlier, but I had been running late. Upon arriving at the gare, I discovered that I would have to wait another hour and a half. Tant pis. I got a new pair of headphones (lost the others), so I caught up on a few podcasts. I took a train from Angers to Le Mans to Rennes to St Malo. St Malo is a seaside city in northeastern Bretagne. Nice place.

It was already dark when I arrived (a little after 7pm). I got a map and proceeded to make my way to the house where I'd be spending the night. I had sent a message via couchsurfing to a number of people in St Malo asking to stay the night with them. One guy replied the day before I left. It was his house I was making for. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to call him ahead of time, so I didn't really know if he would be there or not. I called him from a payphone when I thought I was near his place. Since he hadn't heard from me, he assumed that I hadn't come. All the same, he came with several of his friends to give me a lift to where he'd be staying. Turns out he wasn't in St Malo that night, but in another city nearby.

We arrived at the house in Dinard (the other city) around 9:30. My host, Laurent, is a scientist who does work in the marais (salt water marsh, I think; Christine, if you're reading this, I thought of you). Laurent and his colleagues from work were actually having a party when I arrived. I don't know what the occasion was, but we had a good time. Fromage, saucisse, pizza, bière; there was also some spiced liquor that someone had made and aged for a couple of year. Very good. I was starving, and they were very welcoming. We only stayed up until around 2am, since everyone had to work the next day. Good times. A good first experience couchsurfing.

Laurent drove me to the gare maritime the next morning. It was very nice of him. Really, I couldn't think of a better host (his first time too). I  grabbed a ferry at 10am to Portsmouth. I'm actually on it right now, as I write. I think we're passing Jersey. It's been a beautiful day. You couldn't ask for a better. Light clouds, pretty sunny, not much wind. It's been a pleasant trip so far.

I'll probably post this when I get to Carmarthen (Wales) on Saturday. I'm planning on visiting Carmarthen, Bangor, Oxford, and maybe Cambridge and London. We'll see how it goes.

Friends.

Another week has passed. This next one ought to be interesting.

I'm loth to start with another post about going out to a bar. It's not the only thing I do. However, it makes for a better story. Breakfast, library, class, lunch, library, home, study, dinner, sleep - that's pretty dull. So I'll skip it and go straight to Tuesday night.

Oh, wait, other things happened Tuesday. Like the arrival of Robert and Jaime. I didn't have classes on Tuesday, so I ran a few errands that morning (post office, CAF) and then hung around on campus to see when Robert would turn up. We'd been communicating online. I eventually met up with him, his parents, and his host dad. I showed them around campus a bit (not that big) and then, since Robert wanted to try a kebab, we went to rue Bressigny for déjeuner. That was hoot. Those shops are mainly student hangouts around midday. We were pretty out of place. After lunch, they took to take a look at the château.

Jaime's train came in around 3h45. I met her there, waited a bit for her host family, and when no one showed up, we headed for the school. After a short meeting with the logement office, she got a taxi to her home. Turns out, in addition to a good bit of miscommunication, her host mother had fallen ill. Jaime mentioned three pages of rules. I lucked out there.

I think everyone's slowly settling in now. We'll see.

Tuesday night was Mardi Café. It's a chance for foreign students and frenchies to meet up, hang out, talk, exchange culture, etc. It's was a fun night, but it started slooooow. I had forgotten one important fact: I'm in France, i.e., there are French people, i.e., nothing starts on time. I showed up at the appointed hour, on the dot, only to wait 45 minutes for the person I recognized to walk through the door. Meh.

I ordered a beer and sat a table. It was a Kilkenny, a reddish ale brewed in Ireland. I was, after all, in the James Joyce. Angers has tons of Irish pubs. I don't really understand why. Anyway, after 20 minutes passed, a girl plopped down in the seat in front of me. She introduced herself as Roxanne. I thought of Cyrano de Bergerac. She must have figured out that I was a foreigner (I have no idea how; I look like anybody else in the street). We started talking, and when she learned I was an American (and not Irish), she got really excited. She was even more excited when I told her I was from Mississippi. "No," I tried to explain in French, "you don't understand. I'm from Mississippi." "Mais c'est super," she responded. Poor thing. I hope she doesn't first set out for MS if she ever makes it to the US. She's gonna be pretty surprised. She invited her collocotaire over, and we talked in English for a bit. Overall a nice gesture. I haven't really found the French very chaleureux. It's nice to break that trend.

My fellow erasmus students finally made it, followed by a few more I hadn't met yet, from the UK and Ireland. One mistook me for a Scotsman. We were joined by a handful of French people, a couple of guys that I spoke to a for a good while. I had one more beer: a Chimay Bleu, my first trappist ale. I'm sure I'll post more about those later, after my visit to Belgium. Needless to say, it was very good. Overall, a nice evening. Although it was much to long. I didn't make it back home until one-ish, with the majority of my classes the next day. Ergh.

Not much to say of Wednesday and Thursday. Early Thursday evening I went out with Robert and Jaime. We had a drink, chatted about our doings and going-to-dos. A nice catch-up. That evening I had dinner with mom. Beet/walnut salad, pasta with a bit of olive oil, and rabbit. Very good. Dessert was compôte de pomme with some sort of liquid cheese mixed together. It was good.

Friday was fun. I had lunch with a friend of mine from school, Alexandra. We have a lit class together. She's been here since the fall, so she knows Angers pretty good. I mentioned that I was missing my Indian food joint back home, and she agreed enthusiastically. We decided to try out a restaurant off one of the boulevards in town. It was pretty good. I had some sort of fried potato thing as entrée, pork curry (!) for plat principal, a little pâtisserie for dessert. Overall, very good. It was a good time to get to know Alexandra a little bit better, too. Afterward, we went to la bibliothèque anglophone, a used book sell (don't worry, I didn't buy anything), and ended up back at the library on campus.

I forgot to mention that between bibliothèques, we stumbled upon a cathedral in town, Notre Dame (not the Notre Dame). It was really cool. I haven't been in any of the cathedrals yet. I had kind of been saving them. But we found this one by accident and decided to go in. The church had been around for quite some time, but had been rebuilt in the 17th century. My host-parents scoffed a bit when I told them. They said it was hardly worth mentioning, since it was so young. Perspective. I didn't have my camera, otherwise I would have take a few pictures.

That evening I went out with Robert to get a bite to eat. We opted on a Mexican restaurant across from a café I had been to. We were seated, but Robert noticed some other CIDEF students at a nearby table. From KU, I think. We joined them, much to the consternation of the waiter. We were served some dorito-like chips and a very sweet salsa. No bueno, even by my standards (which can be pretty low). The meal was much better. It actually had some spice. While it wouldn't have fooled anyone from Texas (like one guy that whined a lot at the table), it would've been fine for anyone else. Afterward, we went to sit between the cathedral and the Maine to share a couple bottles of wine. We later headed for rue Bressigny (Soft); at this point, I bade everyone a good night and headed home. Classes have already started for me, and I'd had enough as it was. See? Limits.

Speaking of classes, I don't have any week after next. That means, starting this Thursday afternoon, I'm free for about ten days. I'm going to the UK via a ferry from St. Malo to Portsmouth. I hope to take a train to Carmarthen to visit fy ffrind Aron, maybe see the renowned JR (if I can catch him), and just perhaps make it to Cambridge to certain rajun cajun. I don't like her that much, but we'll see.

That was a test to see if she reads this blog.

I'd love to visit Oxford, too. If I can afford it and there's time. There's a certain writer I'm rather fond of that spent several years teaching there.

Just finished a night of galettes and crêpes. Very good via the eldest daughter of my family.

Bonne nuit tout le monde. I'll update again before I leave for le Royaume Uni.

Books and Beer

Yesterday afternoon, after visiting the supermarché and picking up some foods, I decided to go looking for books. I didn't really need any for class, but it never hurts to look. This foray turned out to successful. My first and only stop was a bouquiniste on rue Bressigny, not far from UCO.



The shop isn't big. I'd put it in dimensions approximating 20x12. Pretty tiny, by American standards. The room was stacked from floor to ceiling with books, most of them three or four deep. Merveilleux. I had originally gone seeking dictionaries. There's a couple people back home who I know would appreciate one. Unfortunately, I didn't find anything that popped out at me. That might be because I saw this first.

There's nothing spectacular about the contents in and of themselves. It's more the presentation. It covers the high points of medieval French literature. The pictures, most of them reproductions of illustrations from manuscripts, are fantastic. Inspired by this find, I started poking around for more books à propos to this'un. I found many more, some of which (the one below especially) will prove indispensible for my ancien français class. Being the only customer, the vendeuse noticed my interest and began retrieving several other books that she thought might interest me. They did. A short while later, someone came in selling books. I grabbed this from their stack. 5 euros.

Nothing flashy. It's basically taking a couple different excerpts (here from Le charroi de Nîmes and from Le Conte du Graal) and breaking them down into each individual word, its context, etymology, derivations, declination, and variations in spelling. Wow. So this book basically does what all of my professors have done when I've studied ancien français. Or words, really. I'm currently looking for similar works. Here's another fun one:

I've wanted this for awhile. I've been tired of reading it online. Only the modern translation though. Sad.

The following evening was spent out on the town with friends. French ones, mind you. We went to a pub in the northern part of the city center. Le Welsh. I kid you not. The sign out front displayed a red dragon, sitting in a drunken stupor. I'll have to get a picture of it. Fun place. Small, warm. It was actually my second time there, it being one of my first stops after figuring out how to get around Angers' center. The beer list there is incredible. They have a menu full of them. Most of them are in bottles, but that's pretty normal for lots of beer styles that are bottle aged. It's not cheap, so there's not much chance of me getting plastered regularly. You know, like I do at home.

We had a good evening, me, my South African friend, and a couple of Frenchies. Apparently there's a large supply of board games. We wound up spending a good deal of time playing some sort of dominoes game. It was fun. The pub (because it's not really a bar) is very conducive to such interaction. No TVs. No slot machines. Lots of French, people from the neighborhood. Authentic in the sense that it's not for tourists or students. Not authentic in terms to living up to its name. Not one word of gallois. Pity. I'll have to teach them one or two. Cwrw!

The beer: Etienne ordered me the beer of the month (i.e., whatever wasn't popular last month). It was a Carolus Ambrio, and it was good. Sadly, I didn't take a picture of it. It was served in a 33cl goblet (a little less than 12 oz.) that had the brewery's name and logo. Presentation seems to be everything here in France. As far as drinks are concerned, each has it's own glass. The color, as you might have guessed from the name, was a nice dark amber. It was very light, not heavy at all. But the flavor was pretty powerful, although not hoppy. I miss my IPAs. There were other herbs in there too. Dunno what. The brewery, Het Anker, is just north of Brussels. From what I gathered online in perusing their site, the base recipe for this beer dates from the 15th century. History in a glass.

The picture below is me and a Murphy's Stout. A little bit better than Guinness.



See the twinkle in my eye? There you have it. I plan on spending my winter vacances in Belgium. For the, uh, museums.

Cheers.

Phone call.

Quick. You're getting a veritable barrage this weekend. However, I'm not posting this one on facebook, so only the devoted will find this one. Maybe.

I have a funny I want to share that took place just a few minutes ago. I just walked in the house, having gone of into the cité to buy a gâteau and browse a bouquinistes or deux. My mom stopped me and declared that she had one good thing to share with me and one bad thing. The first referred to a phone call that I made to my family in Amory. Calls to landlines in the US are free on my French family's line. Momma V started by saying that my call to the US had been free. "However," she added (in French, so not really), "this other number that you called was not free."

It was at this moment that I remembered the events that transpired leading up to my phone call back home. My first attempt lacked the first two zeroes that initiate a call outside of the country. Instead, the call was routed to a line inside the country. I immediately realized my mistake in two different ways: 1) the woman on the other end of line was speaking French; 2) there was wasn't much speaking, due to the fact that she was very excité to talk to me (those of you using Google Translator will want to refer to the second meaning of that word).

So that call lasted about thirty seconds, which was just enough time for the call to be put through and for me to realize my mistake, laugh about it, and hang up. However, I had forgotten about any charges that may have been applied, which brings me back to the beginning of the story. "I can pay for the charges," I told her, reaching into my pocket for my wallet. "No, no," she responded, "it wasn't that much." I hope not, I thought. Otherwise I didn't get my money's worth.

I then decided to try and explain what happened in order to assert that I was a moron instead of a pervert. However, my vocabulaire was somewhat lacking in nuance to explain my situation delicately. I explained that I had punched in the numbers wrong and that I had been directed to a woman. She didn't seem to understand the emphasis I was putting on woman, accompanied by that insider's look of mutual understanding. She just stared at me. So I followed up with what I thought at the time meant, "a woman you call when one is feeling lonely." Of course, in a tribute to Seinfeld (shoutout to Neil) that apparently even the French understand, I said "when one is alone."

At this my host mom burst out into hysterical laughter.

Once again, I find the we are all not that different.

Food. Cheese.

The week has gone by and I've still got two class I haven't attended yet. Hopefully I can sort it all out on Monday. I think I'm almost ready to officially register for classes (that's due in a couple of weeks). The system is so weird. My poetry class meets every other week. My ancien français class doesn't meet again until March. It's hard to say what's going to be the hardest. I'll let you know by the end of the semester.

I don't have any huge plans this weekend. It's a bit cold here, and I haven't been to keen on ranging very far. That being said, I did do a bit of shopping yesterday, again at the french mall. I bought some carrots and some weird looking french apples. And I got some postcards and biscuits (cookies). And tea (it's cold). I've gotten some sausage and chicken from the reduced rack. Oh, and wine. Good wine is one thing that can be pretty cheap here.

The cheese isn't very expensive either. I can now say I've tried Roquefort, which I'm sure Amelia's going to love. Basically, it's bleu cheese, but it's made from sheep's milk and it's aged in caves in the region from which it gets its name. Legend has it that a shepherd left a bit of his cheese by accident in such a cave and returned a few months later to pleasantly rediscover his molded morsel was delicious. What fun. Like many gastronomic products in France, the label is directly tied to the location, for example, bubbly is only called champagne if it's come from Champagne. I think that's kind of neat.

Speaking of cheese, I forgot to mention that last Friday I had raclette with my host family. It's the same idea as fondue (melted cheese). It's kind of like a mini-oven with trays in which to place your cheese or meat and slots in the oven to melt it. Once it reaches the desired consistency, you pour it over a boiled potato. It was very good. Served with bacon, ham, chorizo. Good.

I'm heading out with a friend tonight, so I'll share some of my escapades from yesterday afternoon (books) and this evening (beer) tomorrow.

Oh, and I got my memory card. Hopefully I'll have some pictures up soon.

I've got nothing.

Well, quelle semaine. I've almost made it an entire week since last posting.

My rendez-vous with the director of my department was unabashedly rude and unapologetically confusing. There was talk of mutiny, but after that first guy was verbally disemboweled, our courage was decimated, our hopes shattered. I'm making the best of it though. I've managed to wriggle into a class of Old French. I don't know if I'm going to appreciate that come the end of the semester, but doubtless I'll learn something useful.

Classes are going well. The grand majority of my time is spent in the library, studying before, in between, and after classes. Imagine my horror when I heard I could only check out five livres at a time. She very nearly throttled me when I told her I checked out nigh on forty last semester. However, with the help of one Ally Watkins, I made it to one of the city libraries on Saturday, where I proceeded to check out several more books.

I then went to le Muséum des Sciences Naturelles. Very fun. It was split into two different sections, one on nature(?)(the living kind), the other on prehistory. The first was pretty neat. It put a lot of emphasis on the surrounding Anjou region, with specific references to the flora and fauna around the rivers. The 'county' I live in, Maine-et-Loire, is situated around two major rivers that lend their names to the region. Very neat. Good vocabulary builder. The prehistoric exhibit was also interesting, though it was easy to get lost in the details. Lots of fossils of stuff that swam in the ocean. A few interesting notes about the mining history of the regions. A few skeletons, a few skulls, and fairly large nugget of gold.

The evening proved entertaining. My host family was again celebrating the birthday of their youngest daughter, this time with extended family. Luckily, I got invited. There were about ten or so people who showed up, making it a rather large crowd. It was a bit intimidating at first, but after a couple of glasses of champagne and speaking with a septuagenarian about her theatre days, it turned out to be a rather fun evening. Pâté, lasagna, cheese, salad, galette, and fruit. Quite a meal. The best part? I was seated next to Lancelot. His brother, Tristan, was a few seats away. Very cool names.

Nothing much to report now but school.

Window Licking

And it tasted terrible. Worst yet in France. Except for the Bag(uette) Mac. More about that below.

If you want to lecher les vitrines in France, now's the time to do it. My mom informed me that the soldes is going on right now. Basically, it's their Black Friday. Which means everybody's out and about. Not wanting to miss the action, I went to the mall.

To clarify further (for those of you who know well my shopping habits), I need a backpack. So I first went to a small supermarché. No dice. All I managed to do was scare a couple of kids, since my walk to the store took me past a school. I'm starting to think that no one in France grows a beard.

Eventually, my mom got me a backpack. It looks like something a 4 year old might wear, and that's no exaggeration. Everything's small here, except for the stupid paper, which is 2 inches longer than our sort. Again, le sigh.

I went out again this morning (Saturday) to see what I could. The weather is rather pleasant, if a little cooler than it has been. I've noticed that I'm the only one on the street who's not wearing a coat. I've also noticed (when it's wet) that I'm the only one who wears a brightly colored rain jacket. It's light blue. It goes well with my cheveux. The French prefer black, grey, and off-white. It's like the fifties here.

Anyway, today I did a bit of flânerie. No, I did not eat dessert at a Mexican restau. I did, however, wander around for a bit in the city center. There's plenty to see. Angers is a pretty big city. There's tons of shops, restaurants, and cathedrals. Lots of cathedrals. There's also a fair few museums and, of course, the château.

I found a bar called Le Welsh. Sounds like my kind of place. Alas, it was closed. I also found a large market en plein air, selling everything from pastries to knickknacks, with some flowers as well. Pretty fun. My best find was the rue with all the bouqinistes. That will be revisited. My lunch wasn't so great. I thought I was getting what would amount to be a philly steak and cheese. It amounted to the contents of a bigmac in a baguette. Oh, and fries. In the baguette. Yrch.

My return home was timed well. My host family, who are now all here for the weekend, was celebrating the birthday of the youngest daughter, with several friends from her dance school. I got galette and café, and got to tune in to a little français ado(lescente), which, contrary to what I thought I had heard (français à dos), is not someone speaking behind you.

The party is now ended, and while I sit and write this blog post, the girls are downstairs playing the WiiFit. I have to draw the line somewhere.