At lunch today I made A eat the tiniest spoonful of pea's I have ever seen in my life as part of a compromise. IE. I wanted him to eat about 1/4th a cup and he wanted to eat none. My negotiating skills are going to take some practice.
He ate the spoonful, and then helped me clear the table. He then walked into the bathroom where I heard him shout
AMANDAAAAA
Yes, A? What can I do for you?
AMANDA, my pee is green.
No, it's not.
Yes it is. It's green from eating too many pea's. It's true! It's green!
Insert eye roll.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
The Office of Found Items & the cutest thing I've ever seen
From my previous post, you know that Sunday morning of my bartending weekend, I lost my iPhone. This is terrifying because all of my contacts, email addresses, regular addresses, passwords, credit card information and more is all saved to that phone. By losing it, I lost valuable connection with the world, including my ability to facetime etc. Needless to say, when I realized I lost it, I began to sob.
While discussing my loss with the various people at WOS bar that Sunday, I lost any hope I had of finding it. Every single french person said "you lost your iphone in a cab? it is long gone." Continue sobbing. I email my parents and let them know what happened and that I am going to call all the cab companies in Paris to try to find my phone because of course, I do not remember what kind of cab it is that I took.
Starting this plan in motion, I realize that there are 20 something cab companies in Paris. joy. So I start googling "I lost my iphone in Paris, what should I do" out of desperation and sleep deprivation. I find the Paris craigs list classifieds lost and found section. No dice, but someone did find a nice wedding ring on the steps of the Opera that they would gladly return if someone can describe it.
My next google query "paris lost and found" takes me to the Canadian Embassy's website explaining that Paris has a very intricate Lost and Found system. Cab's are supposed to turn in any found items to their dispatcher and after a few days the dispatcher is supposed to turn in any unclaimed items to "Le service des objets trouvés" which is a subset department of the French Police. (website in french located http://www.prefecturedepolice.interieur.gouv.fr/La-prefecture-de-police/Objets-trouves/Le-service-des-objets-trouves just in case you were interested) This is translated as the Service of Found Items; which has happily in my life become known as a magical place that seems like it stems from a Harry Potter Novel.
They keep items worth less than 50 euro for 3 months and worth more than 50 euro for a year and 1 day. I quickly email them, give them my name, address, phone number and a description of my iPhone and tell them I lost it in a cab in the 5th Arr. and I desperately need it back. They request the IMEI number in the emails, but I tell them I do not have the IMEI number because it is written on the box in the US, but inside the leopard print case should be 250 dollars worth of monopoly money that a guy named Guillaume insisted I take the night before as a tip. Charming. Sorry, Found Items office. They tell me they will let me know in a maximum of 10 days if they found my phone, until then I should try to find the IMEI number.
I get the number from my mom, and finally decide to start calling cab companies. I call the first one and it is an epic failure. I do not know enough French to do this, I am HORRIBLE on the phone in French and I cannot understand a single thing anyone is saying. I voice this frustration to another friend named Guillaume (very popular french name) and he says he will help me call the cab companies and that it will go much faster since he actually speaks French. I punch him.
We call the first cab companies with zero luck, but they all say the same thing. If one of our drivers found it, it's at the office of found items. bahhh okay thanks.
I spend the next 4 days iPhone-less and miserable, trying to contemplate life without FaceTime. Every time I begin this thought, my eyes well up with tears. I watched the entire series of Arrested Development instead of thinking about life without iPhone.
I finally get an email a few days later that says an item appearing to belong to me has been located at the office of found items, to retrieve it I need to bring 11 euro, the printed out copy of the email saying it had been located and the IMEI number. I instantly started to cry from thankfulness. In one of the cities most famous for pick pocketing and petty crime, I had an honest cab driver who followed the rules and turned in my cell phone.
I print the email, write down the number, google the address, grab 11 euros and head straight for the office. I finally found it, inside the police department in an area of Paris that I had never been to (terrifying) and I have to go through a metal detector and a bag search to go inside. I don't care. I would let them TSA style cavity search me if it meant getting my iPhone back. I walk upstairs into a room full of smiling government employees and step in line behind a woman about 55 who can't stop smiling either.
Why is everyone smiling? It's Paris. People don't smile here. What is going on? I have decided that the Service of Found Items is actually the happiest place on earth. I walk up to a window and hand her the email print out. She hands me a number and directs me to sit down on these wooden benches that face about 7 glass windows. There are probably 20 people sitting around me, but my number is only maybe 10 away. There is an anxious teenage boy, an obviously American couple, a super fabulous gay man in a belly shirt that says "army" (he is my favorite), the older woman from in front of me in line, a man in a business suit, me and then some other people whose items I didn't notice.
The American couple's number is called, she lost her wallet complete with passport, drivers license, credit cards and money. They tell her to sit back down and hang tight. Teenage boy lost his backpack, fabulous gay man and older woman both lost their wallets and some other people ask about other items that I don't pay attention to and then it is my turn. I walk up and hand the smiling man my email. He asks for some sort of identification and I hand him my Indiana Drivers License. He has no idea what this is. He asks me about it. I explain that its a drivers license. He laughs. Most people in France don't have those. (mental note to pay more attention when walking) I give him the IMEI number and 11 Euros and he tells me to have a seat.
Finally the man in the suit walks up to the window and begins describing something that he has lost. I don't listen because I don't want to be rude and I am also too excited about the prospect of getting my iPhone back but then I realize everyone else in the room is paying attention to his description. The man behind the window walks away and comes back holding something that I can't see what it is. The man's face lights up and then he instantly blushes. He tells the man working that that is indeed what he was looking for, gives him the 11 euros and walks out holding a tattered stuffed animal, obviously belonging to a child of his who had absent mindedly left it somewhere. This is what amazes me. Some French person came across this ragged stuffed animal (I think it used to be a dog) with squish lines through the stomach where it had been hugged to death and instead of thinking, gross this toy is disgusting and throwing it away, realized that it was loved by someone, and turned it in to the office of found items, where a dad had enough love for the child to go retrieve it on his lunch break. Every single person in that office stopped and did a collective 'awwww' and a sigh. It was undoubtedly the cutest thing I have ever seen.
Finally, one of the men behind the windows gets up and goes around a corner. He starts calling people up to get their items. The wallets are all found, including paperwork, money and all credit cards. The teenage boy got his backpack back and then it was me. He brings around a small thing wrapped in white paper and I see a little leopard print sticking out. MY iPHONEEEEEE. I don't even wait for him to call my name I just sprint to the counter and jump up and down like a little kid at a candy shop window. He tells me how extremely and incredibly lucky I am and cautions me to be more careful. I would have jumped over the counter and kissed him if there were not a glass barrier (probably placed there after someone like me had that impulse). I wished everyone in the office a nice day and half walked half skipped out the door. It started to rain the second I got out the door. I didn't care.
When I told my mom the story she said "Well this says two things about France; 1. the french are really superior and 2. Socialism works"
I don't know if we could go thaaaaat far :)
Stay tuned for:
1. the nantes guy on the bench story AKA how to lie to french people
2. the beach with the host family; subtitle: pretending I don't know anything about stars
3. becoming frommers; how I became a tour guide
While discussing my loss with the various people at WOS bar that Sunday, I lost any hope I had of finding it. Every single french person said "you lost your iphone in a cab? it is long gone." Continue sobbing. I email my parents and let them know what happened and that I am going to call all the cab companies in Paris to try to find my phone because of course, I do not remember what kind of cab it is that I took.
Starting this plan in motion, I realize that there are 20 something cab companies in Paris. joy. So I start googling "I lost my iphone in Paris, what should I do" out of desperation and sleep deprivation. I find the Paris craigs list classifieds lost and found section. No dice, but someone did find a nice wedding ring on the steps of the Opera that they would gladly return if someone can describe it.
My next google query "paris lost and found" takes me to the Canadian Embassy's website explaining that Paris has a very intricate Lost and Found system. Cab's are supposed to turn in any found items to their dispatcher and after a few days the dispatcher is supposed to turn in any unclaimed items to "Le service des objets trouvés" which is a subset department of the French Police. (website in french located http://www.prefecturedepolice.interieur.gouv.fr/La-prefecture-de-police/Objets-trouves/Le-service-des-objets-trouves just in case you were interested) This is translated as the Service of Found Items; which has happily in my life become known as a magical place that seems like it stems from a Harry Potter Novel.
They keep items worth less than 50 euro for 3 months and worth more than 50 euro for a year and 1 day. I quickly email them, give them my name, address, phone number and a description of my iPhone and tell them I lost it in a cab in the 5th Arr. and I desperately need it back. They request the IMEI number in the emails, but I tell them I do not have the IMEI number because it is written on the box in the US, but inside the leopard print case should be 250 dollars worth of monopoly money that a guy named Guillaume insisted I take the night before as a tip. Charming. Sorry, Found Items office. They tell me they will let me know in a maximum of 10 days if they found my phone, until then I should try to find the IMEI number.
I get the number from my mom, and finally decide to start calling cab companies. I call the first one and it is an epic failure. I do not know enough French to do this, I am HORRIBLE on the phone in French and I cannot understand a single thing anyone is saying. I voice this frustration to another friend named Guillaume (very popular french name) and he says he will help me call the cab companies and that it will go much faster since he actually speaks French. I punch him.
We call the first cab companies with zero luck, but they all say the same thing. If one of our drivers found it, it's at the office of found items. bahhh okay thanks.
I spend the next 4 days iPhone-less and miserable, trying to contemplate life without FaceTime. Every time I begin this thought, my eyes well up with tears. I watched the entire series of Arrested Development instead of thinking about life without iPhone.
I finally get an email a few days later that says an item appearing to belong to me has been located at the office of found items, to retrieve it I need to bring 11 euro, the printed out copy of the email saying it had been located and the IMEI number. I instantly started to cry from thankfulness. In one of the cities most famous for pick pocketing and petty crime, I had an honest cab driver who followed the rules and turned in my cell phone.
I print the email, write down the number, google the address, grab 11 euros and head straight for the office. I finally found it, inside the police department in an area of Paris that I had never been to (terrifying) and I have to go through a metal detector and a bag search to go inside. I don't care. I would let them TSA style cavity search me if it meant getting my iPhone back. I walk upstairs into a room full of smiling government employees and step in line behind a woman about 55 who can't stop smiling either.
Why is everyone smiling? It's Paris. People don't smile here. What is going on? I have decided that the Service of Found Items is actually the happiest place on earth. I walk up to a window and hand her the email print out. She hands me a number and directs me to sit down on these wooden benches that face about 7 glass windows. There are probably 20 people sitting around me, but my number is only maybe 10 away. There is an anxious teenage boy, an obviously American couple, a super fabulous gay man in a belly shirt that says "army" (he is my favorite), the older woman from in front of me in line, a man in a business suit, me and then some other people whose items I didn't notice.
The American couple's number is called, she lost her wallet complete with passport, drivers license, credit cards and money. They tell her to sit back down and hang tight. Teenage boy lost his backpack, fabulous gay man and older woman both lost their wallets and some other people ask about other items that I don't pay attention to and then it is my turn. I walk up and hand the smiling man my email. He asks for some sort of identification and I hand him my Indiana Drivers License. He has no idea what this is. He asks me about it. I explain that its a drivers license. He laughs. Most people in France don't have those. (mental note to pay more attention when walking) I give him the IMEI number and 11 Euros and he tells me to have a seat.
Finally the man in the suit walks up to the window and begins describing something that he has lost. I don't listen because I don't want to be rude and I am also too excited about the prospect of getting my iPhone back but then I realize everyone else in the room is paying attention to his description. The man behind the window walks away and comes back holding something that I can't see what it is. The man's face lights up and then he instantly blushes. He tells the man working that that is indeed what he was looking for, gives him the 11 euros and walks out holding a tattered stuffed animal, obviously belonging to a child of his who had absent mindedly left it somewhere. This is what amazes me. Some French person came across this ragged stuffed animal (I think it used to be a dog) with squish lines through the stomach where it had been hugged to death and instead of thinking, gross this toy is disgusting and throwing it away, realized that it was loved by someone, and turned it in to the office of found items, where a dad had enough love for the child to go retrieve it on his lunch break. Every single person in that office stopped and did a collective 'awwww' and a sigh. It was undoubtedly the cutest thing I have ever seen.
Finally, one of the men behind the windows gets up and goes around a corner. He starts calling people up to get their items. The wallets are all found, including paperwork, money and all credit cards. The teenage boy got his backpack back and then it was me. He brings around a small thing wrapped in white paper and I see a little leopard print sticking out. MY iPHONEEEEEE. I don't even wait for him to call my name I just sprint to the counter and jump up and down like a little kid at a candy shop window. He tells me how extremely and incredibly lucky I am and cautions me to be more careful. I would have jumped over the counter and kissed him if there were not a glass barrier (probably placed there after someone like me had that impulse). I wished everyone in the office a nice day and half walked half skipped out the door. It started to rain the second I got out the door. I didn't care.
When I told my mom the story she said "Well this says two things about France; 1. the french are really superior and 2. Socialism works"
I don't know if we could go thaaaaat far :)
Stay tuned for:
1. the nantes guy on the bench story AKA how to lie to french people
2. the beach with the host family; subtitle: pretending I don't know anything about stars
3. becoming frommers; how I became a tour guide
last days in the country and my foray into bartending
so for my last 2 days in the country with the kids, I kinda just hung around with the exception of my trip to La Baule which is a 9km beach (my numbers have ranged from 7-9km because the french can't seem to make up their minds about how long it actually is.) This story isn't all that exceptional, I took the train to the beach in the morning, walked to the beach, laid down in the sand, napped for a while, swam in the ocean, realized I was getting burnt, bought sunscreen and lunch, laid on the beach again, took the train home. Just a normal day at the beach.
I took the train home on the last day and the kids just looked at me wide-eyed. A asked me where I was going and then gave me about 100 thousand kisses so I had a nice coat of slobber on my face for the train ride home; I took the first class train back to Paris (so swanky).
I hung around Paris for a few days and on one of these occasions, I went to WOS with Morgan. We were just sitting there enjoying our evening when the owner asks what I am doing the next night. With no other plans and Morgan having to babysit, I said 'nothing, why?' and it was explained to me that the bar was having a big party for the french running of the bulls called bayonne and that they needed an extra hand because most of the other bartenders were busy.
Before he could finish his sentence I had screamed yes in his face because I was probably more excited than I should have been. Okay said the owner, you have to wear all white and red because that's what people wear to the bayonne, told me to be there at 7pm and I quickly agreed and started planning my outfit.
Here are the things I did not anticipate:
1. the fact that I have literally zero clue how to make a single cocktail, mixed drink or even pour a beer correctly from the taps
2. the fact that by standing behind the bar, people were going to give me orders, some of those people only spoke french, and I had not learned the french words for 'shot' 'pint vs demi' and various other typical bar orders
3. no one taught me how to open the register, so i just was holding wads of money and desperately begging the other bartenders to open the drawer for me
4. no one told me that if the person doesn't hand you money right away, you make a ticket and stick it in the jar with their name on it (a lot of people drank for free because of me)
with none of that in mind, I show up at WOS at 6, because I wasn't doing anything else. I was put in charge of cutting up fruit to make sangria, and then slicing a bunch of cheese for cheese and ham plates. The owner told me it was going to be my job to serve sangria when people asked, the ham and cheese plates when people asked, to clear glasses that were empty and to walk around and make sure people were having fun. (Guess he pegged me as a social butterfly)
Easy enough! the night starts slow and I am just pouring Sangria and chatting with the few people I know who are cycling through the bar and chatting with people I don't know, trying to get them to order sangria. Sales skills. This works well until we hit road block 1. Someone orders Sangria and a Long Island. Now my experiences with Long Islands are atypical. I believe I would be frowned upon in Europe if I made a Kilroy's style Long Island and charged people 2 euro. meh. So I have to catch the eye of the only other bartender there at the time, and ask her to make one.
This girl bartender does not like me. She is from another midwest state, also blonde, and I think she thinks I am stepping on her toes by working at WOS for the night. She introduces me to people as "the other blonde american who works here now" this does not strike me well. I pour sangria and move on until the person hands me a full on handful of cash which leads me to roadblock 3. How do I open the register? I have to ask the bartender who dislikes me. Instead of showing me which would have saved both of us time and frustration in the long run, she just hits a bunch of buttons, the drawer opens and I put the money in. I make the change and turn to hand it to the guy who paid me in the first place. He tells me I can keep it.
I just made my first 2 euro as a bartender. Officially professional. All of the sudden there were a million people in the bar and it was getting intensely crowded. Two other bartenders show up and I am instantly in the way, so I start collecting empty glasses and walking around making sure that people are still having a good time. This seems to go well. People like to mess with new bartenders. Two british rugby players offered me a job cleaning their apartment for an hour a week for 20 euros. I considered this offer for quite some time.
I spend the rest of my evening avoiding being behind the bar because I am in the way, useless at making drinks, incapable of accepting payment and altogether annoying the seasoned bartenders. The owner is unaware of this, or just doesn't care. He is happy. He asks me to work the next day.
The next day goes way better because there is not a theme party and I worked during the day. Working during the day meant this: got early breakfast with people who hang out at WOS frequently, lost my iphone in the cab that I took back to WOS (this story coming next) while working: Owner poured the drinks, I carried them to whoever ordered them, took money, handed it to owner and then checked on people every so often. In between the scattered customers (not too many on a sunday afternoon) we played 'petanque' which is usually played outdoors by people who are 100, but we had an indoor set.
It's a lot like marbles only the balls are like 10 times as big. You throw a little orange ball and then you through bigger balls and try to land them as close to the orange ball as possible and/or knock people away from the orange ball. It was kinda fun, really difficult to play in a super skinny bar, but altogether a pretty good time.
This day bartending went way better, this is the day I learned about making a ticket and sticking it in the jar with the persons name, I learned how to open the register (then promptly forgot) and one of the bartenders even showed me how to close down the bar - hot water on the taps, how to run the dishwasher and all that jazz- she then split all the tips with me that night. I made 15 whole euro. I decide I like this girl bartender. She is from Poland and awesome.
I go home, decide that bartending in that capacity is probably not going to be my strong suit, but I would love to try again with slightly more training. I sleep all of Monday.
I took the train home on the last day and the kids just looked at me wide-eyed. A asked me where I was going and then gave me about 100 thousand kisses so I had a nice coat of slobber on my face for the train ride home; I took the first class train back to Paris (so swanky).
I hung around Paris for a few days and on one of these occasions, I went to WOS with Morgan. We were just sitting there enjoying our evening when the owner asks what I am doing the next night. With no other plans and Morgan having to babysit, I said 'nothing, why?' and it was explained to me that the bar was having a big party for the french running of the bulls called bayonne and that they needed an extra hand because most of the other bartenders were busy.
Before he could finish his sentence I had screamed yes in his face because I was probably more excited than I should have been. Okay said the owner, you have to wear all white and red because that's what people wear to the bayonne, told me to be there at 7pm and I quickly agreed and started planning my outfit.
Here are the things I did not anticipate:
1. the fact that I have literally zero clue how to make a single cocktail, mixed drink or even pour a beer correctly from the taps
2. the fact that by standing behind the bar, people were going to give me orders, some of those people only spoke french, and I had not learned the french words for 'shot' 'pint vs demi' and various other typical bar orders
3. no one taught me how to open the register, so i just was holding wads of money and desperately begging the other bartenders to open the drawer for me
4. no one told me that if the person doesn't hand you money right away, you make a ticket and stick it in the jar with their name on it (a lot of people drank for free because of me)
with none of that in mind, I show up at WOS at 6, because I wasn't doing anything else. I was put in charge of cutting up fruit to make sangria, and then slicing a bunch of cheese for cheese and ham plates. The owner told me it was going to be my job to serve sangria when people asked, the ham and cheese plates when people asked, to clear glasses that were empty and to walk around and make sure people were having fun. (Guess he pegged me as a social butterfly)
Easy enough! the night starts slow and I am just pouring Sangria and chatting with the few people I know who are cycling through the bar and chatting with people I don't know, trying to get them to order sangria. Sales skills. This works well until we hit road block 1. Someone orders Sangria and a Long Island. Now my experiences with Long Islands are atypical. I believe I would be frowned upon in Europe if I made a Kilroy's style Long Island and charged people 2 euro. meh. So I have to catch the eye of the only other bartender there at the time, and ask her to make one.
This girl bartender does not like me. She is from another midwest state, also blonde, and I think she thinks I am stepping on her toes by working at WOS for the night. She introduces me to people as "the other blonde american who works here now" this does not strike me well. I pour sangria and move on until the person hands me a full on handful of cash which leads me to roadblock 3. How do I open the register? I have to ask the bartender who dislikes me. Instead of showing me which would have saved both of us time and frustration in the long run, she just hits a bunch of buttons, the drawer opens and I put the money in. I make the change and turn to hand it to the guy who paid me in the first place. He tells me I can keep it.
I just made my first 2 euro as a bartender. Officially professional. All of the sudden there were a million people in the bar and it was getting intensely crowded. Two other bartenders show up and I am instantly in the way, so I start collecting empty glasses and walking around making sure that people are still having a good time. This seems to go well. People like to mess with new bartenders. Two british rugby players offered me a job cleaning their apartment for an hour a week for 20 euros. I considered this offer for quite some time.
I spend the rest of my evening avoiding being behind the bar because I am in the way, useless at making drinks, incapable of accepting payment and altogether annoying the seasoned bartenders. The owner is unaware of this, or just doesn't care. He is happy. He asks me to work the next day.
The next day goes way better because there is not a theme party and I worked during the day. Working during the day meant this: got early breakfast with people who hang out at WOS frequently, lost my iphone in the cab that I took back to WOS (this story coming next) while working: Owner poured the drinks, I carried them to whoever ordered them, took money, handed it to owner and then checked on people every so often. In between the scattered customers (not too many on a sunday afternoon) we played 'petanque' which is usually played outdoors by people who are 100, but we had an indoor set.
It's a lot like marbles only the balls are like 10 times as big. You throw a little orange ball and then you through bigger balls and try to land them as close to the orange ball as possible and/or knock people away from the orange ball. It was kinda fun, really difficult to play in a super skinny bar, but altogether a pretty good time.
This day bartending went way better, this is the day I learned about making a ticket and sticking it in the jar with the persons name, I learned how to open the register (then promptly forgot) and one of the bartenders even showed me how to close down the bar - hot water on the taps, how to run the dishwasher and all that jazz- she then split all the tips with me that night. I made 15 whole euro. I decide I like this girl bartender. She is from Poland and awesome.
I go home, decide that bartending in that capacity is probably not going to be my strong suit, but I would love to try again with slightly more training. I sleep all of Monday.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Pictures from the country part 2
Again: no clue why the order is the way it is:
#1 the giant church of Nantes, very similar looking to notre dame. Inside are the tombs of famous people
#2 the tomb of Anne of Bretagne's parents
#3 The castle belonging to Anne of Bretagne
#4 la Baule, 8.5 km beach, lots of women casually topless, I don't think i will ever get used to that
#5 inside the church at Nantes
#6 part of the 17 tourret castle in angers
#7 and #8 more photos of the castle of angers
#9 the inside of the church built within the castle of angers once used as a holding tank for prisoners of war
#10 Vineyard built on one of the walkways inside the castle at angers
#11 inside the crypts under the church in Nantes
#12 another casual view of the castle of Angers and part of the church
#13 just another section of crypts. Normal.
Stay tuned for the story of how I lost my iPhone and the miracle by which it was found. Also included will be "the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life"
#1 the giant church of Nantes, very similar looking to notre dame. Inside are the tombs of famous people
#2 the tomb of Anne of Bretagne's parents
#3 The castle belonging to Anne of Bretagne
#4 la Baule, 8.5 km beach, lots of women casually topless, I don't think i will ever get used to that
#5 inside the church at Nantes
#6 part of the 17 tourret castle in angers
#7 and #8 more photos of the castle of angers
#9 the inside of the church built within the castle of angers once used as a holding tank for prisoners of war
#10 Vineyard built on one of the walkways inside the castle at angers
#11 inside the crypts under the church in Nantes
#12 another casual view of the castle of Angers and part of the church
#13 just another section of crypts. Normal.
Stay tuned for the story of how I lost my iPhone and the miracle by which it was found. Also included will be "the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life"
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
"peux-tu faire des amis avec les amish?"
Part 2 of the country. I should also preface this by saying that the title of the first part of my time in the country is a funny thing that Papi said to me, as well as this one. My first day here, Papi asked me if I liked cheese and I told him that I wasn't a huge fan but I like to try every kind I can. He told me that there are over 300 different types of cheese so I will always have a new one to try. When I told him the other day that I would love to just keep visiting castles and do that until I have seen every castle in France he told me that it was impossible because there are just too many. He then added "ohhh yes, there are a lot of castles, just like there is a lot of cheese" which is basically what that last title translated to.
this title comes from the time Papi googled Indiana on his IPad. We were sitting and reading one night and he looked up from his IPad and said "do you know that you have a canal in Indianapolis?" I smiled and told him that I did know that. He then started spouting facts about Indianapolis that he was learning on Wikipedia and I thought it was unreal adorable. From that moment however, there has been an influx of questions about where I come from and what it is like. This particular question came from Mami when we were driving and got stuck on the highway behind a tractor. She said sometimes that happens and I explained to her that sometimes on roads by our lake house we get stuck behind Amish people in their buggies. She was familiar with Amish people but had no idea that they lived in Indiana, then a steady stream of questions: And they refuse all electricity? What do they do for work? Do they use money the same way? What kind of food do they eat? and then today's title, can you make friends with the Amish?
they are really cute and funny.
OKAY so the second part of my time in the country.
The day after we went fruit picking, I bought a train ticket to Angers, a bigger city than Ancenis and WAY bigger than Oudon but not as big as Nantes. Papi gave me a guide book all about the pays de la loire and dropped me off at the train station. When I say dropped me off, I don't actually mean it. I mean he parked the car, walked me up to the train station, walked me to my platform, hung around for a few minutes and then said, well I guess you can take it from here, have a nice day! And then went home. So I took the train into the city and it only took about 25 minutes, not bad. I get there at about 10 and decide to just wander. I walk a while and I stumble myself into an open air market, which I had been to in Paris but never in the country so I take a stroll, they had literally anything you would need, 3 cheese booths, at least 5 butchers, 2 fish/sea creature (animals I have NEVER EVEN SEEN BEFORE let alone attempted to eat) vendors and about a million vegetable stands, plus shoes, lingerie, jewelry and more. I keep walking and I find a little asian food supply store which is exciting because B found out I know how to make sushi and every 3rd day he asks me if I will make him sushi and my answer is always the same: I don't have my sushi rolling mat... So I go inside and buy one. I figure this will buy me some good behavior. "I'll make you sushi IF..." Then I walk myself into the center of the city where there is: you guessed it. A CASTLE.
This one had 17 tours at one point and houses the Apocalypse Tapestries, which I found to be so interesting it's unreal. The self-guided tour was supposed to take an hour and fifteen minutes. I took 2.5. Casually. This one was interesting because instead of having just a museum inside, it also had the tapestries, ruins of the previous buildings (one was an early spa with steam baths) and a castle that was used as a prison during one of the wars... I can't currently remember which. I then absolutely STALKED the apocalypse tapestries and listened to the entire story on my little audio guide. oh yeah, I rented one. BECAUSE, the castle was free for EU residents under 25. Guess who that officially applies to? Yes, it's me.
After the castle tour, I was hungry, so I went into a little bakery and got a sandwich dessert and drink, a typical french 'formule' that you get for lunch, and I walked a little way to try to find somewhere to eat it. I find a garden and realize that it belongs to the museum of fine arts. So I sit in the garden, eat my lunch and then proceed to go into the Museum of Fine Arts; also free to EU residents under 25. There is a temporary exhibit here, which is the first I went into, called "The Last Night in Troy" and it was all paintings of the last nights before a riot or the breaking out of a riot. Lots of paintings depicting greek emperors about to be assassinated, The death of Purim was a common one, Purim bringing home the body of Hector, then there were also paintings of Julius Caesar being assassinated, and finally a slew of paintings entitled "the last night of Pompeii" with people frantically running around and a huge volcano erupting in the background. It was pretty bloody and terrifying, couple that with the fact that I had just spent almost an entire hour looking the Apocalypse Tapestries - remember all that for later.
I go through the rest of the museum, a little section on this history of Angers, then their permanent collection which is also just pretty cool, and the modern art which is always awkward and interesting. Here is a link to my favorite artists work that I found there: http://www.flickriver.com/photos/boccacino/3083891895/
his name is daniel tremblay, and those are real goldfish in a bowl in front of his painting. I want to know whose job it is to feed them, what happens when one dies, who changes the water, I seriously think it's all very integral to the art.
At this point I have a huge headache so I sit down at a cafe, order an espresso and read a book for a bit and just relax. I sit there for a while, get a magnum ice cream and I hope I looked as hot as Rachel Bilson when I ate it. (I didn't)
I still had some time left to kill before my train, so I hunt down the giant cathedral. I take one step inside and for some reason I burst into tears. (this is where my previous days experience is to be recalled, I think) I just could not stop crying. It was such a pretty cathedral but it was more than that. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and I had to step out and the second my foot touched the sunlight of outdoors I felt fine. Definitely something to consider.
I find a small grocery store, head in, grab a few things I forgot to pack, and then I go wait for my train and go on home. That was Wednesday, nothing super interesting happened Thursday that I can recall, and I stayed in Friday cause I was still exhausted. Saturday I walked back to the plan d'eau and layed by the lake and read and then walked back and Sunday I stayed at home too and the boys came back from their other grandparents, however this week the boys are going to like a day camp in the afternoons so it's going to be a little less hectic.
Yesterday after mami dropped off the boys, she came back to the house, picked me up and we went and ran errands together. We went to French Target, I think. Which was awesome. They had absolutely everything that anyone would need there; but I didn't need anything I just went with her. Then she dropped me off in the center of the little bity town of Ancenis, near you guessed it, another castle. This time however I did not go inside because it was under construction and I couldn't figure it out how to go in or buy a ticket or anything so I just walked through the courtyards. I also had a small little pamphlet that described a walking tour you could do for yourself to see the old architecture, so I did that, saw some cool old buildings, realized EVERYTHING IS CLOSED ON MONDAYS again and felt like an idiot. Walked the banks of the Loire to a small little island and then took off my shoes and walked in the river, then sat on the edge and read my book for a while until Mami came to pick me up.
Today I went to Nantes on the early morning train where I encountered and helped a group of confused American tourists. (boom) Walking around Nantes was fun, it was waaaay bigger than Angers so it felt a little like I was back in Paris which was nice. I got a quick pain au raisin from the bakery across from the train station and then I set out. First stop? The Castle of Anne of Bretagne, of course. This woman's life was unreal. She was the queen of France, twice. Like seriously? Anyway, Gorrrrrgeous castle, pictures to follow. As per usual I spent entirely too long in that castle.
Then I wander around until I find the galleries du lafayette; aka a department store kinda like Saks but maybe a teeny bit less nice, but tons of expensive french designers regardless. I walk inside and take a stroll around and I remember that I need a swimsuit bottom for my trip to the Baule (7km beach, ultra chic) on Thursday. So I walk around and I find a few and I go to try them on, I find two that I end up liking a lot that I think will go with the top I already have here (let's hope mix and match really is as big as people keep saying it is in magazines) and one is part of the Soldes which is even better (that is a topic for another post I still have to write). The woman working the area asks me which ones ended up working and I hand her the two bottoms and she walks me to her register. She mumbles something and then shoots me a coy little smile; to which I am not sure how to respond because I didn't hear her entirely so I just say, I'm going the la Baule on Thursday and I needed a suit! She then comments again and boy do I understand her loud and clear. She says "You're going topless, huh? You know you're allowed to do that! It's fun!" UMMMMMMMM
I giggle awkwardly and explain to her that I have the top at my house but left the bottoms in the united states. She hints that I should think about it and hands me my bag and I thank her and awkwardly laugh my way out of the store. Casual suggestion for a tuesday morning. Hey! Go topless at our beach!
I then get lunch, sit on the castle lawn and eat and read, then wander around for a bit. I find the castle and notice two guys going into a different entrance than everyone else so I decide to follow them haphazardly. Luckily for me (?) they entered the church through the Crypts. So I got to go down into the newly opened crypts of the cathedrale at Nantes and meander about. That leads you out and up into the church when you are done where I saw the tomb of Anne of Bretagne's father and mother: Francois II and one of his 2 wives, Marguerite de Foix. After the cathedral I wandered around some more, bought myself some ice cream and sat down on a bench to eat it.
The story of the guy who sat next to me on the bench while I ate my ice cream is for another time, but rest assured that it is a gem that ends so uncomfortably I can't even explain.
From there, I went to the Jardin des Plants which is exactly what it sounds like, a garden full of plants from around the world. Super gorgeous there, I sat and read a book for a while and then went to the train station kinda early but I thought I remembered seeing a sign for free wifi so I was like, I can blog while I wait for my train. I get there, I buy a coke and a water (5 euro, seriously) and I sit down to try to use the internet but it isn't working. So then I just sit there and drink my drink, relax, read a little bit and then I realize it's time for my train. I look at my ticket just to be sure. Of course, I bought a ticket for the train at 5:38, not 6:38. So I had missed my train. bah. I went to the ticket desk but the line was foreeeever long, so I went to a machine where it said you can exchange tickets, so I tried to do that but it told me that I couldn't so I would have to go to the line. At this point, my train is leaving in 15 minutes so I am not sure what to do. I end up just buying another ticket for the next train, asking the guy at the information booth if this train stops at Oudon, (yes) what do I do about this extra ticket, (take it to ticket booth, get reimbursed) do I have enough time to do that before the train leaves (no, the line is too long, you can try at the station when you get back).
Deal.
Papi met me on the train station platform (of course) and drove me home where I almost fell asleep in the car and I cannot believe I was even able to write all of this.
God bless you if you were able to read all the way to the end. Not only that, but thank you all for still being interested in my trip; awkward and almost unbelievable at times as it may be. It means a lot to me :)
this title comes from the time Papi googled Indiana on his IPad. We were sitting and reading one night and he looked up from his IPad and said "do you know that you have a canal in Indianapolis?" I smiled and told him that I did know that. He then started spouting facts about Indianapolis that he was learning on Wikipedia and I thought it was unreal adorable. From that moment however, there has been an influx of questions about where I come from and what it is like. This particular question came from Mami when we were driving and got stuck on the highway behind a tractor. She said sometimes that happens and I explained to her that sometimes on roads by our lake house we get stuck behind Amish people in their buggies. She was familiar with Amish people but had no idea that they lived in Indiana, then a steady stream of questions: And they refuse all electricity? What do they do for work? Do they use money the same way? What kind of food do they eat? and then today's title, can you make friends with the Amish?
they are really cute and funny.
OKAY so the second part of my time in the country.
The day after we went fruit picking, I bought a train ticket to Angers, a bigger city than Ancenis and WAY bigger than Oudon but not as big as Nantes. Papi gave me a guide book all about the pays de la loire and dropped me off at the train station. When I say dropped me off, I don't actually mean it. I mean he parked the car, walked me up to the train station, walked me to my platform, hung around for a few minutes and then said, well I guess you can take it from here, have a nice day! And then went home. So I took the train into the city and it only took about 25 minutes, not bad. I get there at about 10 and decide to just wander. I walk a while and I stumble myself into an open air market, which I had been to in Paris but never in the country so I take a stroll, they had literally anything you would need, 3 cheese booths, at least 5 butchers, 2 fish/sea creature (animals I have NEVER EVEN SEEN BEFORE let alone attempted to eat) vendors and about a million vegetable stands, plus shoes, lingerie, jewelry and more. I keep walking and I find a little asian food supply store which is exciting because B found out I know how to make sushi and every 3rd day he asks me if I will make him sushi and my answer is always the same: I don't have my sushi rolling mat... So I go inside and buy one. I figure this will buy me some good behavior. "I'll make you sushi IF..." Then I walk myself into the center of the city where there is: you guessed it. A CASTLE.
This one had 17 tours at one point and houses the Apocalypse Tapestries, which I found to be so interesting it's unreal. The self-guided tour was supposed to take an hour and fifteen minutes. I took 2.5. Casually. This one was interesting because instead of having just a museum inside, it also had the tapestries, ruins of the previous buildings (one was an early spa with steam baths) and a castle that was used as a prison during one of the wars... I can't currently remember which. I then absolutely STALKED the apocalypse tapestries and listened to the entire story on my little audio guide. oh yeah, I rented one. BECAUSE, the castle was free for EU residents under 25. Guess who that officially applies to? Yes, it's me.
After the castle tour, I was hungry, so I went into a little bakery and got a sandwich dessert and drink, a typical french 'formule' that you get for lunch, and I walked a little way to try to find somewhere to eat it. I find a garden and realize that it belongs to the museum of fine arts. So I sit in the garden, eat my lunch and then proceed to go into the Museum of Fine Arts; also free to EU residents under 25. There is a temporary exhibit here, which is the first I went into, called "The Last Night in Troy" and it was all paintings of the last nights before a riot or the breaking out of a riot. Lots of paintings depicting greek emperors about to be assassinated, The death of Purim was a common one, Purim bringing home the body of Hector, then there were also paintings of Julius Caesar being assassinated, and finally a slew of paintings entitled "the last night of Pompeii" with people frantically running around and a huge volcano erupting in the background. It was pretty bloody and terrifying, couple that with the fact that I had just spent almost an entire hour looking the Apocalypse Tapestries - remember all that for later.
I go through the rest of the museum, a little section on this history of Angers, then their permanent collection which is also just pretty cool, and the modern art which is always awkward and interesting. Here is a link to my favorite artists work that I found there: http://www.flickriver.com/photos/boccacino/3083891895/
his name is daniel tremblay, and those are real goldfish in a bowl in front of his painting. I want to know whose job it is to feed them, what happens when one dies, who changes the water, I seriously think it's all very integral to the art.
At this point I have a huge headache so I sit down at a cafe, order an espresso and read a book for a bit and just relax. I sit there for a while, get a magnum ice cream and I hope I looked as hot as Rachel Bilson when I ate it. (I didn't)
I still had some time left to kill before my train, so I hunt down the giant cathedral. I take one step inside and for some reason I burst into tears. (this is where my previous days experience is to be recalled, I think) I just could not stop crying. It was such a pretty cathedral but it was more than that. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and I had to step out and the second my foot touched the sunlight of outdoors I felt fine. Definitely something to consider.
I find a small grocery store, head in, grab a few things I forgot to pack, and then I go wait for my train and go on home. That was Wednesday, nothing super interesting happened Thursday that I can recall, and I stayed in Friday cause I was still exhausted. Saturday I walked back to the plan d'eau and layed by the lake and read and then walked back and Sunday I stayed at home too and the boys came back from their other grandparents, however this week the boys are going to like a day camp in the afternoons so it's going to be a little less hectic.
Yesterday after mami dropped off the boys, she came back to the house, picked me up and we went and ran errands together. We went to French Target, I think. Which was awesome. They had absolutely everything that anyone would need there; but I didn't need anything I just went with her. Then she dropped me off in the center of the little bity town of Ancenis, near you guessed it, another castle. This time however I did not go inside because it was under construction and I couldn't figure it out how to go in or buy a ticket or anything so I just walked through the courtyards. I also had a small little pamphlet that described a walking tour you could do for yourself to see the old architecture, so I did that, saw some cool old buildings, realized EVERYTHING IS CLOSED ON MONDAYS again and felt like an idiot. Walked the banks of the Loire to a small little island and then took off my shoes and walked in the river, then sat on the edge and read my book for a while until Mami came to pick me up.
Today I went to Nantes on the early morning train where I encountered and helped a group of confused American tourists. (boom) Walking around Nantes was fun, it was waaaay bigger than Angers so it felt a little like I was back in Paris which was nice. I got a quick pain au raisin from the bakery across from the train station and then I set out. First stop? The Castle of Anne of Bretagne, of course. This woman's life was unreal. She was the queen of France, twice. Like seriously? Anyway, Gorrrrrgeous castle, pictures to follow. As per usual I spent entirely too long in that castle.
Then I wander around until I find the galleries du lafayette; aka a department store kinda like Saks but maybe a teeny bit less nice, but tons of expensive french designers regardless. I walk inside and take a stroll around and I remember that I need a swimsuit bottom for my trip to the Baule (7km beach, ultra chic) on Thursday. So I walk around and I find a few and I go to try them on, I find two that I end up liking a lot that I think will go with the top I already have here (let's hope mix and match really is as big as people keep saying it is in magazines) and one is part of the Soldes which is even better (that is a topic for another post I still have to write). The woman working the area asks me which ones ended up working and I hand her the two bottoms and she walks me to her register. She mumbles something and then shoots me a coy little smile; to which I am not sure how to respond because I didn't hear her entirely so I just say, I'm going the la Baule on Thursday and I needed a suit! She then comments again and boy do I understand her loud and clear. She says "You're going topless, huh? You know you're allowed to do that! It's fun!" UMMMMMMMM
I giggle awkwardly and explain to her that I have the top at my house but left the bottoms in the united states. She hints that I should think about it and hands me my bag and I thank her and awkwardly laugh my way out of the store. Casual suggestion for a tuesday morning. Hey! Go topless at our beach!
I then get lunch, sit on the castle lawn and eat and read, then wander around for a bit. I find the castle and notice two guys going into a different entrance than everyone else so I decide to follow them haphazardly. Luckily for me (?) they entered the church through the Crypts. So I got to go down into the newly opened crypts of the cathedrale at Nantes and meander about. That leads you out and up into the church when you are done where I saw the tomb of Anne of Bretagne's father and mother: Francois II and one of his 2 wives, Marguerite de Foix. After the cathedral I wandered around some more, bought myself some ice cream and sat down on a bench to eat it.
The story of the guy who sat next to me on the bench while I ate my ice cream is for another time, but rest assured that it is a gem that ends so uncomfortably I can't even explain.
From there, I went to the Jardin des Plants which is exactly what it sounds like, a garden full of plants from around the world. Super gorgeous there, I sat and read a book for a while and then went to the train station kinda early but I thought I remembered seeing a sign for free wifi so I was like, I can blog while I wait for my train. I get there, I buy a coke and a water (5 euro, seriously) and I sit down to try to use the internet but it isn't working. So then I just sit there and drink my drink, relax, read a little bit and then I realize it's time for my train. I look at my ticket just to be sure. Of course, I bought a ticket for the train at 5:38, not 6:38. So I had missed my train. bah. I went to the ticket desk but the line was foreeeever long, so I went to a machine where it said you can exchange tickets, so I tried to do that but it told me that I couldn't so I would have to go to the line. At this point, my train is leaving in 15 minutes so I am not sure what to do. I end up just buying another ticket for the next train, asking the guy at the information booth if this train stops at Oudon, (yes) what do I do about this extra ticket, (take it to ticket booth, get reimbursed) do I have enough time to do that before the train leaves (no, the line is too long, you can try at the station when you get back).
Deal.
Papi met me on the train station platform (of course) and drove me home where I almost fell asleep in the car and I cannot believe I was even able to write all of this.
God bless you if you were able to read all the way to the end. Not only that, but thank you all for still being interested in my trip; awkward and almost unbelievable at times as it may be. It means a lot to me :)
Pictures from the country part 1
So I loaded these pictures in order but for some reason blogger hates me so they are out of order. Mah bad. Technology alludes me.
1. Gate and open field I stumbled onto on my walk to oudon
2. Fireplace in the castle d'Oudon, shaped like a castle. Yes please
3.our massive haul from picking fruit at the farm
4.french wildflowers on the road to Oudon
5. This is what the French countryside looks like here
6. Castle d'Oudon
7.view down from one section of the castle
8. Part of the havre river, cutesy
9. Me and all the white currants I picked, ick
10. Casual boat on the havre
11. Picture from the day papi showed me around, told you it was grey
12. Inside of l'abbey st philbert de grand lieu
13. Part of the ruins of the castle d'Oudon
14. Back in the abbey, there is someone in that crypt, papi told me it was one person, my horrible French skills led me to believe there is someone else inside. Who knows.
15. I have never been this close to cows that were not at the state fair. True story.
1. Gate and open field I stumbled onto on my walk to oudon
2. Fireplace in the castle d'Oudon, shaped like a castle. Yes please
3.our massive haul from picking fruit at the farm
4.french wildflowers on the road to Oudon
5. This is what the French countryside looks like here
6. Castle d'Oudon
7.view down from one section of the castle
8. Part of the havre river, cutesy
9. Me and all the white currants I picked, ick
10. Casual boat on the havre
11. Picture from the day papi showed me around, told you it was grey
12. Inside of l'abbey st philbert de grand lieu
13. Part of the ruins of the castle d'Oudon
14. Back in the abbey, there is someone in that crypt, papi told me it was one person, my horrible French skills led me to believe there is someone else inside. Who knows.
15. I have never been this close to cows that were not at the state fair. True story.
"oui, il y a beaucoup des chateaus, comme les fromages"
this is the story of my first 1 and a half weeks in the country, photos will be uploaded tomorrow. (maybe).
So, I didn't end up asking Papi to take me to Oudon the next day like I said I was going to, because it was freezing cold and raining and I just felt like laying in my bed and watching the life aquatic with steve zissou. (which didn't work by the way so then I had to watch 500 days of summer. depression)
The next 2 days followed suit. Freezing cold outside, no heat inside and nothing but rain as far as the eye could see. I read an entire book; the Marriage Plot, it wasn't that good, but I still continued to read it because when it rains in the country, what else do you have to do?
That sunday, it was finally sunny and papi told me that we had to go take the boys to meet up with their other grandpa who was taking them for a week. Leaving mami, papi and i with H and her 13 year old cousin E who flew in the night before. I agreed to go on this adventure because what else was I doing besides sitting on the porch staring at the sun because I hadn't seen it in 4 days.
We get into his little car (when I say little I don't actually mean it. He drives a Mercedes, but don't worry- he made sure I knew that he once owned a Ford and talked at great length about the American auto-industry and he nodded approvingly when he found out I drive a Chevy) and we proceed to drive southwest and we get to a little parking lot of a big old stone building. We get out and the boys are running around and goofing off, I am literally just standing in the sunlight trying to warm myself like a reptile when A tells me he has to go pee and B tells me he has to go poo. I sigh and papi laughs. The boys still have an hour in the car ahead of them, so we search out a bathroom. Once we find a public bathroom, A has decided he no longer has to go pee, but B is still in need so he opens the stall door and what does he find, but a Turk. I am unaware of the fact until he comes out and says, I think I'll hold it. I ask why and he says, that's not a real toilet. I go examine for myself and just burst out laughing.
I finally tell him that he has a whole hour in the car ahead of him and he really probably should use the bathroom and he looks at me with a look of absolute horror and he just says, how do I use that thing? I then have to talk him through using the Turk, proper foot placement, correct shorts on the leg placement and everything. In the middle of doing his business he shouts, Amanda, how do you know so much about this toilet? And my response is, I have one of those at home, bro. (He thinks it's funny when I call him bro) he shouts from the stall "IN AMERICA?!" and I respond, no in Paris!
I explain how to flush, he flushes and comes out of the bathroom and looks at me and says, I don't believe you have one of those in Paris. and I can think of nothing else to say to him but... neither do I.
Anyway, their other Papi (papi de mon papa, as A has been calling him) shows up and the boys go and they give me bisous to last for a whole week (by this I mean they basically tackled me to the ground and kissed my forehead off) and then they get into the car and off they go. Papi then tells me that we are standing next to an abbey that was built in the time of Charlemagne and would I like to go inside and look around? Um, yes. thats freaking cool.
So we went inside, papi paid my whole 1.50 euro ticket price, what a gent, and it is soooo cool. There are parts of it that date back to Charlemagne and then you can see the other parts where other architectural design played a part in the building of it, roman influences, gothic structures and medieval elements too. It was super neat, I totally geeked out. I'm casually looking at stuff and papi is next to me talking my ear off and telling me things that I probably wouldn't understand in English about the history of France but he is speaking in French so I just go with it. I take some pictures, I pretend to read some signs, I just kinda explore around. All in all it was pretty neat. I bought some post cards from the gift shop and then we made our way back to Oudon.
The next week is ultra calm with just the two girls, one barely a teen and one is a tween so all they do is watch tv, listen to music and paint their nails. Monday I decide to walk into the town of Oudon (we live on the outskirts) its like a 45 minute walk but I google map it, so I figured I was good. Mami offered me a backpack, an umbrella and a bottle of water and then said she hoped I make it back for dinner, not like a suggestion on time but a suggestion of ability. I thought I would be like, walking along a road, no no, I legit took a trail through the woods and through someones back yard and finally came to a road that I walked on for a while until I eventually found the cutest little park with a lake in the middle. This is called the Plan D'Eau and it is on the outside of the town. I walk through it, and walk by the little swimming beach and then into the town, everything is closed. What the what? It's monday at like 2pm why is everything closed? This is when I remember Mami telling me that everything is closed Sunday afternoons and Monday all day. Lovely.
I sit on a bench on the side of the Hauvre which is a teeny little offshoot of the Loire River, and I just chill for a while, trying to figure out how on earth I'm going to walk back and tell Mami and Papi that I didn't do anything because I forgot that everything was closed. I get up and I walk the length of the Hauvre all the way until I get to a private farm and have to turn around and I walk all the way back. When I get back, I realize that the castle is open! So I march myself up to the castle of Oudon and I buy a ticket and I go inside.
This is where I have realized that I need to own a castle. Glamorous and not at all practical, I need one, end of story. So I hope to learn interesting things about the people who live here in this castle, but come to find out that it basically just is a museum about the Loire river (found out that over 300,000 people were drowned in it as public execution site. lovely little detail) I make it all the way to the top and I wander around, take some photos and then I get a little terrified when I realize how high up I actually am and so I go back down. I then find a sign that says "passage interdit" why is it that whenever someone posts a sign that says you can't go somewhere, you just want to go so much more badly. I have no idea what is at the bottom of that spiral staircase and it will haunt me forever.
Then I start walking away from the castle and I see people carrying baguettes. SOMETHING IS OPEN! At this point I am starving so I just walk in the direction that the people were leaving and by the grace of god I found a bakery that was open and I walk in, order a pain au chocolat avec des amandes (bread with chocolate and almonds, side note: my name basically means almond here) and I eat that on my way back to mami and papi's. I slept so well that night it was absolutely unreal, Papi calculated the distance I walked, about 9 km. BOOM.
The next day, papi asked me if I had anything to do and I said no, so he invited me to go with him, mami and the girls to the farm to pick fruit. We drive to a little "you pick" farm where they show me off to all of their little french countryside friends. Apparently it is ultra-chic to have an American Au Pair and all the french people like to stare at me like I'm a wild animal. Papi grabs a wheelbarrow and tells me that its called a brouette. He then asks me several times throughout the trip, "qu'est que c'est?" "what is this?" to see if I remember. I never did. He and mami then spend the next hour trying to teach me the names of different fruits and vegetables, some of which I didn't know what they were in English so when we finally got the french-english dictionary we were all surprised. Chards? What is that?
Papi's favorite word of the day was "zucchini" he must have said it a million times and then he would just giggle to himself. I guess zucchini is more fun to say than corgette. I picked red and white currants, mami picked green beans, papi picked strawberries and the girls picked raspberries. We then all piled in the car and I went back to bed because my brain hurt from all the new words that I was busy not remembering.
this is ultra long. I will finish the rest tomorrow.
ps. cheese is way better in the country than in Paris. Augusta tells me she thinks it is because the goats are closer in the countryside. this makes perfect sense to me.
So, I didn't end up asking Papi to take me to Oudon the next day like I said I was going to, because it was freezing cold and raining and I just felt like laying in my bed and watching the life aquatic with steve zissou. (which didn't work by the way so then I had to watch 500 days of summer. depression)
The next 2 days followed suit. Freezing cold outside, no heat inside and nothing but rain as far as the eye could see. I read an entire book; the Marriage Plot, it wasn't that good, but I still continued to read it because when it rains in the country, what else do you have to do?
That sunday, it was finally sunny and papi told me that we had to go take the boys to meet up with their other grandpa who was taking them for a week. Leaving mami, papi and i with H and her 13 year old cousin E who flew in the night before. I agreed to go on this adventure because what else was I doing besides sitting on the porch staring at the sun because I hadn't seen it in 4 days.
We get into his little car (when I say little I don't actually mean it. He drives a Mercedes, but don't worry- he made sure I knew that he once owned a Ford and talked at great length about the American auto-industry and he nodded approvingly when he found out I drive a Chevy) and we proceed to drive southwest and we get to a little parking lot of a big old stone building. We get out and the boys are running around and goofing off, I am literally just standing in the sunlight trying to warm myself like a reptile when A tells me he has to go pee and B tells me he has to go poo. I sigh and papi laughs. The boys still have an hour in the car ahead of them, so we search out a bathroom. Once we find a public bathroom, A has decided he no longer has to go pee, but B is still in need so he opens the stall door and what does he find, but a Turk. I am unaware of the fact until he comes out and says, I think I'll hold it. I ask why and he says, that's not a real toilet. I go examine for myself and just burst out laughing.
I finally tell him that he has a whole hour in the car ahead of him and he really probably should use the bathroom and he looks at me with a look of absolute horror and he just says, how do I use that thing? I then have to talk him through using the Turk, proper foot placement, correct shorts on the leg placement and everything. In the middle of doing his business he shouts, Amanda, how do you know so much about this toilet? And my response is, I have one of those at home, bro. (He thinks it's funny when I call him bro) he shouts from the stall "IN AMERICA?!" and I respond, no in Paris!
I explain how to flush, he flushes and comes out of the bathroom and looks at me and says, I don't believe you have one of those in Paris. and I can think of nothing else to say to him but... neither do I.
Anyway, their other Papi (papi de mon papa, as A has been calling him) shows up and the boys go and they give me bisous to last for a whole week (by this I mean they basically tackled me to the ground and kissed my forehead off) and then they get into the car and off they go. Papi then tells me that we are standing next to an abbey that was built in the time of Charlemagne and would I like to go inside and look around? Um, yes. thats freaking cool.
So we went inside, papi paid my whole 1.50 euro ticket price, what a gent, and it is soooo cool. There are parts of it that date back to Charlemagne and then you can see the other parts where other architectural design played a part in the building of it, roman influences, gothic structures and medieval elements too. It was super neat, I totally geeked out. I'm casually looking at stuff and papi is next to me talking my ear off and telling me things that I probably wouldn't understand in English about the history of France but he is speaking in French so I just go with it. I take some pictures, I pretend to read some signs, I just kinda explore around. All in all it was pretty neat. I bought some post cards from the gift shop and then we made our way back to Oudon.
The next week is ultra calm with just the two girls, one barely a teen and one is a tween so all they do is watch tv, listen to music and paint their nails. Monday I decide to walk into the town of Oudon (we live on the outskirts) its like a 45 minute walk but I google map it, so I figured I was good. Mami offered me a backpack, an umbrella and a bottle of water and then said she hoped I make it back for dinner, not like a suggestion on time but a suggestion of ability. I thought I would be like, walking along a road, no no, I legit took a trail through the woods and through someones back yard and finally came to a road that I walked on for a while until I eventually found the cutest little park with a lake in the middle. This is called the Plan D'Eau and it is on the outside of the town. I walk through it, and walk by the little swimming beach and then into the town, everything is closed. What the what? It's monday at like 2pm why is everything closed? This is when I remember Mami telling me that everything is closed Sunday afternoons and Monday all day. Lovely.
I sit on a bench on the side of the Hauvre which is a teeny little offshoot of the Loire River, and I just chill for a while, trying to figure out how on earth I'm going to walk back and tell Mami and Papi that I didn't do anything because I forgot that everything was closed. I get up and I walk the length of the Hauvre all the way until I get to a private farm and have to turn around and I walk all the way back. When I get back, I realize that the castle is open! So I march myself up to the castle of Oudon and I buy a ticket and I go inside.
This is where I have realized that I need to own a castle. Glamorous and not at all practical, I need one, end of story. So I hope to learn interesting things about the people who live here in this castle, but come to find out that it basically just is a museum about the Loire river (found out that over 300,000 people were drowned in it as public execution site. lovely little detail) I make it all the way to the top and I wander around, take some photos and then I get a little terrified when I realize how high up I actually am and so I go back down. I then find a sign that says "passage interdit" why is it that whenever someone posts a sign that says you can't go somewhere, you just want to go so much more badly. I have no idea what is at the bottom of that spiral staircase and it will haunt me forever.
Then I start walking away from the castle and I see people carrying baguettes. SOMETHING IS OPEN! At this point I am starving so I just walk in the direction that the people were leaving and by the grace of god I found a bakery that was open and I walk in, order a pain au chocolat avec des amandes (bread with chocolate and almonds, side note: my name basically means almond here) and I eat that on my way back to mami and papi's. I slept so well that night it was absolutely unreal, Papi calculated the distance I walked, about 9 km. BOOM.
The next day, papi asked me if I had anything to do and I said no, so he invited me to go with him, mami and the girls to the farm to pick fruit. We drive to a little "you pick" farm where they show me off to all of their little french countryside friends. Apparently it is ultra-chic to have an American Au Pair and all the french people like to stare at me like I'm a wild animal. Papi grabs a wheelbarrow and tells me that its called a brouette. He then asks me several times throughout the trip, "qu'est que c'est?" "what is this?" to see if I remember. I never did. He and mami then spend the next hour trying to teach me the names of different fruits and vegetables, some of which I didn't know what they were in English so when we finally got the french-english dictionary we were all surprised. Chards? What is that?
Papi's favorite word of the day was "zucchini" he must have said it a million times and then he would just giggle to himself. I guess zucchini is more fun to say than corgette. I picked red and white currants, mami picked green beans, papi picked strawberries and the girls picked raspberries. We then all piled in the car and I went back to bed because my brain hurt from all the new words that I was busy not remembering.
this is ultra long. I will finish the rest tomorrow.
ps. cheese is way better in the country than in Paris. Augusta tells me she thinks it is because the goats are closer in the countryside. this makes perfect sense to me.
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