Florence and Bologna (europe is good for the soul).

After a long, long class on Friday, two friends and I raced downtown to wait for an hour at the train station. We stopped for lunch on the way at Quick Burger, which is France's version of McDonald's with a touch better quality. Two hours later and our train stops at Bordeaux, our first stop out of three. We run out of the station with a little over an hour to make our flight, which we had already mapped out with an estimated 10 minutes travel time between train station and airport.

10 minute taxi cab ride became a 30 euros 35 min voyage. The freeway was backed up because rush hour happens in France on a Friday afternoon. Luckily, our driver was wise and drove through town, which took a lot longer. Laura and I flew out of the cab while Janet paid. The platform was number 61, and we got in line for security. We ran around the airport like idiots having near asthma/panic attacks. As we were waiting in line for security, we asked a man working there if we had enough time to go through and make the plane. He looked at our tickets and said we were fine.

Except we weren't.

When we got closer to the check station, the woman checking stuff through the x-ray machine noticed our tickets were through Ryanair, and she was kind enough to let us know that we were in the WRONG part of the airport. Have I mentioned we wasted about 10 or 15 precious minutes waiting in the wrong line?? So off we were, running frantically again without a destination or plan. We saw the unhelpful man who gave us the wrong information previously and asked him for directions to Ryanair. Now that I think about it, asking him probably wasn't the best idea, but we'd asked a few of the people working in the shops who responded to us with looks like we were crazy.

Anyway, Ryanair's security is in an entirely separate building, and we bolted for it. When we arrived the security people there laughed at us because we were panting from all the running and panicing (two of us are asthmatics, including myself). They let us go through with a scold to be at least 45 minutes early. Technically they are required to close the gate at this point. I still am in shock we made it. Nate missed his flight with Ryanair, and he got there 30 minutes early.

We had some direction issues when we arrived in Bologna as well. Nate booked the wrong hostel, so we had to stay with my two friends in a twin bed on the floor. Hurray for being unorganized in foreign countries!!

Everything worked out well, and I had an amazing time in Florence. The food and wine was so fresh, cheap, and delicious. I bought a new dress and two scarves.

When we arrived back in France from Italy, it felt a little like coming home. Odd sensation since, ya know, France is a foreign country too. At least I (somewhat) know the language here.

mon frere d'accueil.

Yesterday I met my host brother, Martin, for the first time. He opened the front door when I came home yesterday and introduced himself, in english. The exchange was as friendly as could be expected from the french. Dinner. Veronique made a rice pilaf, and after setting it on the table she commented "that it might not have turned out well." Sounds like my mom. I took a normal girl respectable serving and he took the rest in the serving bowl. Their conversation consisted of the world cup coming up blah blah blah. I didn't really listen much because I don't know any of the names of the french players. How can I be expected to know this stuff when I don't know anything about my nation's favorite athletic obsession (ahem, football)?

After the rice, Veronique made a soufle type thing with some vegetables. Martin refused to eat it because he wanted meat. She chided him, and he still wouldn't eat it. Her and I shared eye rolls, which made me had to stifle some giggles. I'm part of the family? Veronique told him that he couldn't have dessert, and he substituted with an apple. He asked me to give him one, and I hesitated while trying to explain in my broken french that I've been sick, did he really want me to touch the apple? He rudely responded, in english, "ONNNNNNNNE AAAAAPPPPLE." Excuse me? I may not be amazing at speaking french, but I can understand. I should have responded with "UUUUUUNNNNE POOOOOMMMME?" Gotta work on being more clever. Might be an issue since I'm not so great with cleverness in english. Add a foreign language = ? (I'm gonna guess some mushed up franglais that doesn't make any sense).

Did I mention he's 27?!?!? Mon dieu. Grow up.

I'm going to Italy tomorrow with two friends. We're meeting Nate, the boyfriend, there, and I'm way excited. Bologna is the first stop Friday night. Nate told me Bologna is known to have the best food in Italy = YES. Saturday meaning we're taking a train to Florence. Veronique loves Florence, and she was excited for me when I told her I was going there.

Another interesting fact about Veronique: she was in the states, and left about one week before hurricane Katrina hit. She was in the South too, around Louisiana. Crazy.

Chanson Francaise.

Here's a song we listened to in class today.
Jeanne Moreau - J'ai le Memoire qui Flanche.

French doctors. Bof!

I gave in and went to the doctor yesterday. My host mom, Veronique, is quite a stern woman. I could see her being scary when angry, but I guess being tough is a requirement for a nurse. She asked me yesterday when I got home from class if I'd gone to the doctor, which I hadn't, and she responded with something to the effect of "go upstairs, call and make an appoint right now. Or you'll be sick in Italy this weekend." Such a mom.

Even though Veronique knew how sick I was, she didn't offer to give me a ride. I was too exhausted to walk, so I had to call a cab. 12 Euros later, I was still a ways from my destination. Did I mention my cab driver had a super funny accent? He looked italian, and I couldn't understand any of his french. I pretended to follow and wished him a "bonne journee." Taking a taxi in Pau, and maybe all of Europe, sucks. Drivers start charging you as soon as they get the call, and they take the most roundabout way to where you are. Kinda makes me want to punch them in the face.

Found the doctor's office, and the receptionist lady spoke super FAST french. She slowed down a bit and threw in some english here and there, got all the paper work done. My doctor appears in a shirt with "Faith," in english, printed on the front. Hilarious because this woman knew even less english than Veronique, my host mom. Language barriers were abundant. My meds for asthma and allergies don't exist here. I said advair, and she looked at me like I was nuts. "Advil, advil?" she repeatedly responded. "No adVAIR." Mon dieu! After awhile, she gave up.

Then she told me to take my shirt off. Everything, the whole? Both layers? Is that really necessary? She looked at me like I was the crazy one and nodded her head each time. So, I had to take my shirt off. Apparently in France, one must take off their whole shirt, not just roll up their sleeves, even in a T SHIRT, in order to get their blood pressure checked. Unnecessary. She did some other normal doctor-y stuff, and told me what I already knew: I have an ear infection in both ears. I blame rafting last week and swimming in the Atlantic.

The doctor's room was completely different than in the states. Where I laid was just a normal looking elongated chair thing. Nothing fancy and bulky. She had a legit desk, which made the room feel like an office. There was nothing on the white walls. No decorations, or fancy instruments. Nothing.

When she wanted to take my blood pressure the squeezy-thing wasn't working. She opened the door to get a new one and left the door open. OPEN. While I was just chillaxing there, topless. No big deal. C'est normal?!?

After this mildly traumatic experience, I called my mom in the parking lot and started bawling. I felt sickly, had a fever, two ear infections, and a half an hour walk ahead of me. Did I mention while I was in the office, it had started to rain? Equipped with no umbrella (which I normally keep on me) or jacket, I walked home. On the way I stopped at my favorite bakery and bought a baguette. Cuz, ya know, I deserved it. Earlier that day I'd bought white chocolate with hazelnuts in it. I think I knew it was gonna be a rough day.

Don't swim in the Atlantic/ go rafting in the same week.

I've been battling with a sore throat and very sore ears since Friday, unsuccessfully. Ignoring method hasn't done much yet. Thursday the USAC kids went rafting, and the water was freezing! I also swam in the Atlantic on Saturday. Probably wasn't my best choice, but when am I going to swim in the Atlantic off of the coast of FRANCE again? Last night my ears were ringing so bad I could hardly hear Veronique at dinner. For dinner she made these mini baked egg and onion along with her speciality (basically home made ramen, no joke, she boils water with chicken bouillon cubes and adds cellophane noodles = homemade ramen = one step above ramen, and to think I came to France for home made ramen 2 days a week), salad, and yogurt for dessert.

Instead of seeing a doctor today, I went to the pharmacy because during orientation, the advisers told us that french pharmacies have a lot of good medications over the counter. I spent 16 euros on 3 medicines. One is a lozenge that numbs my throat, the other is a spray for the throat, and the last one are ear drops, which immediately made my ears feel a lot better. I might go to the doctor tomorrow if I'm not feeling any better. I need to be well for Florence ce week-end! The best part about going to the pharmacy was speaking french with the pharmacist because it was evident she didn't know any english. She would have switched to english if she knew it. Anyway, the woman was super nice and patient with me, and we communicated well.

And when I went home I decided not to pay the 1.10 euros for the bus and got a little lost. It wasn't as bad as my first week here. This time I actually understood the maps (no way!), and checked them every time I could when I crossed a bus stop. When I finally reached my house after an hour of walking, I set off the alarm AGAIN. Those people at the surveillance company must hate me : "Oh there's that stupid American setting off the freaking alarm again. Should we even bother calling this time?" I tried to set it for the main level and the upstairs, but I just don't have enough time to run up!! Especially with all the maladies I have currently. Asthmatic running up the stairs with lungs in relatively poor condition. Watch out.

It just started raining, and it sounds nice. Did I mention I was awoken today bright and early at 6:30 by the obnoxiously loud birds that make "hoo-hoo" noises? The one outside my window is a slightly slow one because its voice is really low and slow as compared with the other ones I've heard. More annoying too. Je n'ai pas de la chance..

Biarritz (faves).

Bayonne (faves).