A Long Weekend: The Last European Blog

The last weekend was a bit extended, between leaving for a random trip to Nice on Thursday afternoon and having no school Monday. It was great to go out of France, on the last real weekend, with a bang- somewhat literally. I really don't even know how to begin explaining this; I already hate how watered-down it will be. This was one of the most powerful experiences for me, and there is absolutely no way to explain it in cyberspace.

Jon contacted Amelie, his Parisian friend, somtime last week, and when she replied, it was with an invitation to spend the weekend with her and her father at his home in Nice. We instantly accepted, and planned to leave Friday after class. However, the railway station had different plans. Due to all of the holiday traffic (Bastille Day was the 14th), the only open train was at noon on Thursday. I wasn't at the ticket booth with Jon, so he had to make the decision... and he got them. Who could say no to three euro tickets to the sea?

We explained the situation to our teacher and left in time to catch the train, which wouldn't get us into Nice until 7. I've come to love train rides so much, and going through Provence, which is easily the msot vibrant part of France, for three hours was a good way to spend an afternoon- much better than sitting at my window, staring at my tree. The colors are so saturated in the south, between the lush foliage, houses of every shad of orange you could imagine, clouds that turn purple when the sun is behind them and the purple-gray of the sea, my mind couldn't choose a scene to rest on.

Amelie wasn't able to pick us up until 10, so we had time to wander about the train station's neighborhood and eat the best kabab that I've ever had. They're really popular here, since it's so close to the Middle East, but they are not the kebabs you think of in the states. They're much more like "our" gyros, stuffed into a pita with tons of spices and salad. When Amelie scooped us up, we went to here father's boat to grab supplies for the weekend, took a driving tour of Nice, which was glimmering in the light from the huge moon and the salty air, and got ice cream near the harbor.

We were originally staying with her father at his home, but his friend had the weekend free. They decided to take the days to go to Port St. Louis du Rhône, to work on the other, larger sailboat that they have. So, after rearranging some travel plans, we were ready for our Friday in Nice and Saturday in Port St. Louis.

Friday, we made lunch and headed to the park for the entire afternoon. The large garden was next to a church on the top of a hill that overlooked all of Nice before ending in the sea. We sat and watched boats carry travellers to and from Corsica, that was hidden just behind some clouds on the horizon. When we got back to the house, it was time to head with Pierre and Pascal, Amelie's father and step-mother- and we headed right into the worst traffic jam ever. We gave up at 11 that night and stopped for a very Greek dinner. The salad bar at this restaurant was the easiest way for me to try tons of new food and gets a million new flavors that I will miss when I come back home. The weight of the meal and the car's motion put me to sleep. I woke up at 2 a.m. when we pulled into the port.

The boat was docked inland since it was being serviced, and it would be our home for the next two days. We weren't on it much, between shopping with Pascal for supplies and groceries (I absolutely loved getting free samples and seeing what foods a French family bought on a regular basis) and going to the beach (a.k.a. the sea) for the day. That night, we again went to a late dinner at a restaurant sitting between the Rhône River and the southern coast. Storms were going on in both bodies of water, and we were sitting the the strip of calm. The conversation was buzzing and it was amazing to feel at home and comfortable in a different country, with people different from anyone I have known before.

The experience, especially their kisses goodbye and their waves as we boarded the train on Sunday, was my favorite part of this month. We got to be completely immersed in French culture and language, and see just how far we have come and still have to go. I hope that one day, I can give a young student the same experience.

Monday was Bastille Day, the French national holiday. Thus, there were no classes and no stores open... and the morning was full of rain and cold. I was depressed as I studied at my window, but when Jon came and convinced me to go out and sit at a cafe for a bit, in the sun that had finally decided to show, things brightened up (no bad joke intended). We talked about our trip, about what we would miss, and wandered through the strees looking at absolutely everything, as if to make sure we wouldn't miss anything important. I savored my cappuccino to the last and looked at the people sitting around me, full of envy for their ability to go whenever they like.

That night, after getting a bit lost, we found our way to the Stade Mager, where the town was holding their festival. We watched a multicultural dance show and ate sugar crepes before sitting the closest either of us ever have to a large fireworks display. The crowd was only yards away from the field, and it was as if the whole scene was seen through 3D glasses. I really think I could have touched the sizzling, flying bits of color falling in front of the mountains. The crowd's sounds of aaw were heartwarming and probably better than the show itself. I'd never felt like such a part of the town.

Today is our last full day in Chambery. We catch our train to Nimes tomorrow, to watch the Tour de France, then go to Montpellier and head for home Monday. Thus, this will be my last blog abroad. I will definitely wrap things up when I get back home, possible after I recover from a long depression. I'm so thankful to be going right back to a family vacation that will throw me in with the people I miss most, doing something so familiar, and work to keep my mind off of how much I will miss this place.