Last night was my last at La Forge, and I had trouble getting to sleep because I was so relishing my last few hours of having my own place. From here out I'll be staying in more hostels and therefore will have to share space more often than not. But, no complaints here, my entire week in Barcelona will cost less than two nights at La Forge. It'll be like college, only I won't have to put up with a sucky roomie for more than a couple days, let alone nine months. Doable.
So I stayed awake late, and read, and made myself broccoli pancetta ravioli with cream sauce and a beet apple salad.
This morning Michele picked me up at La Forge and we drove into Bordeaux for the last few hours of French instruction before my departure Southwards. After parking and making our way to the train station via the tram, backpack in tow, we printed my ticket and then realized it was almost 10 euros to store my bag in a locker so we trudged back to the car and left it there instead. Michele was righteously incensed that they dare charge that much and muttered incoherently what I can only assume were some rather choice words in French. After ditching the bag we started walking around the city, and I realized immediately AFTER taking the tram to another part of the city that I had left my camera battery in my backpack. So I lugged a useless, heavy piece of equipment all over Bordeaux. Excellent. Brilliant.
But I did get a few shots with the iPad so while the quality isn't as great at least you'll get to see a little bit.
War memorial. Up at the top there is lady liberty breaking the chains of oppression. You go girl.
You can't really see it but the horses have something like duck feet and fish tails. Rad.
Outdoor market for the holidays.
See, the land of wine. Amazing.
We didn't exactly pick the best day to go sightseeing on foot but after years of drought in California I have no complaints about a little mist. Even if wearing glasses in the rain is truly lame.
Bordeaux is a gorgeous city and I certainly enjoyed getting a chance to see a bit more of it before heading on.
After a quick lunch featuring one of the most enormous salads I've ever seen (it would give Hoover's Beef Palace in Templeton a run for the money in terms of sheer portion size, should Hoover's actually serve a salad, which if we're going for understatement of the year is just a wee bit unlikely) Michele dropped me off outside of the train station. There I oh so patiently waited for the departure screen to update so I would know which platform to go to, which they're normally supposed to do thirty minutes ahead but this time they decided five minutes ahead would suffice. Go, SNCF. Then there were several announcements in French that I gathered to mean that due to excess traffic the train would be running five minutes late. In typical French style five minutes late roughly translated to twenty minutes late. Not surprisingly I was happy to get securely on board. I'm still not sure if my seat was technically the window or the aisle but the guy sitting next to me didn't object when I took the aisle so, whatever.
Yep, nothing like being turned around in a foreign city with no map and, bonus, lugging a large unwieldy backpack and a shoulder bag that I swear weighs more than the damn pack does. And the street signs here? Totally fucking useless. On every corner, there should be a single sign on a building wall that says the street name. Here, nay nay, on many corners you get TWO signs, and I thus far have not determined how on God's green earth you figure out which one is for what. All aside, about twenty minutes into what should have been a five minute walk later, I completely by accident found the hostel. Like I had no clue I was on the correct street and was trying to find my way back to the metro to start over again kind of accident.
So that was fun.
By trial and error I found my way to the reception desk, which was almost as confusing as locating the hostel itself. Almost. Then I checked in, paid my remaining balance, got my key and, more importantly, a map, and tried to decipher the rapid-fire French coming from the young lady at the desk with varying degrees of success. By that point, the main thought running through my head was "I'll figure out whatever I don't understand later, just let me go put down my bags, please."
Then, via the world's most terrifying elevator (it actually shimmies down when you step in it - I'll be taking the stairs from here on, thank you very much) I made it to my room, winded and absolutely dripping sweat. Not my best entrance. I was so relieved to be somewhere though, I made it!
My room is actually not too shabby, it has a tiny kitchenette and a private bathroom, although from what I gather the hot water is more than a little questionable. I have three room mates, all young ladies, none of whom have proven to be especially chatty, but they're pleasant and I honestly don't mind the quiet. After two weeks of doing nothing but talk with Michele and Vero and company I have no problem with a little solitude. So far the only forseeable issue is that I'm on the bottom bunk, which will almost certainly translate to a head wound at some point. Oh, and parts of the neighborhood are a little sketchy at night, but in the manner of Theodore Roosevelt I speak softly and carry a big stick (or in this case a 1L bottle of Perrier which has a dual purpose of staving off both dehydration and drug-dealing neighbors). No but really, I'm staying safe, I'm already in my pjs and the building has not one but two keypads so effectively the bad guys would have to get through a locked heavy metal gate, a locked outside door, and a locked dorm room door, which I think is probably a tad too much effort for an old-model iPad and American passport.
Well, it's been an eventful day. Tomorrow I'll go exploring and see what there is to see in Toulouse, I've got three full days before I leave for Barcelona.
Catch up with you later!
~Swan
Oh I wish I could magically pop in and spend a day with you Julia
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