I Started Drawing Again Today

I am, needless to say, happy about this.

They're really just doodles on notecards, but It's been so, SO long since I've really drawn anything.

France Hates Trees

Today is Tuesday and I am determined to stick with this blog and be better about updating than I was the last time I was in France.

Unfortunately, given that my job doesn't start for a whole week and a half, and that you can only wander aimlessly through the streets for so many days in a row before your feet scream in protest, I have become a little bit of a pile. Now don't get me wrong, I make sure to leave the house every single day. Yesterday I went grocery shopping and walked along the southern bank of the island (did I mention that I'm living on an island!? I am! It is largely an industrial, unromantic, ugly kind of island in the middle of a muddy, muddy river, but if you don't know that, walking along the edge of an island, staring across the banks of the Loire sounds veeeery poetic). The day before that I.... um... okay, I didn't leave the house on Sunday, but nobody else did either! ... The day before that I found an open-air farmers market, an amazing flea market (anyone who knows me or has ever seen my room will understand how hard it was to walk through all of those antique machines and books and toys and not leave with one single thing) and a bike sale, bought a bike and rode it, so I think that all of that productivity makes up for Sunday.

Today I was especially motivated to be productive, because my roommates have started classes, and I'm not gonna lie, I feel like a total waste of space watching them come and go, getting work done while I whittle away the hours, doing nothing much in particular. So today, after some obligatory time with the internet, I grabbed all of my important documents, hopped on my swish new ride, and peddled myself across the river and into downtown, looking for a bank with which I could open an account.
Upon finding that bank, and after realizing that I really need to do more aerobics and then walking around a few blocks to catch my breath before I trying to conduct business, I got down to it with my new friend at the bank, Emélie.

This brings me to the title of the post.

I remember opening my checking account in Montana; if these memories are accurate, I went in with my drivers license, spoke to the woman behind the desk, signed a couple sheets of paper and entered my pin number into a machine that my brand new shiny debit card was swiped through, and voilà! I had an account! It took about fifteen minutes and was relatively painless.

Well today was pretty painless too, but it was a lot less efficient.
My new banking buddy Emélie was very friendly, took my passport, entered that information, my address, my phone number and hit print. She then made two photocopies of my passport and started stapling together immense packets of paper.
"Did you remember that in France we use a lot of paper?" she asked laughing.
I smiled back, telling her that as soon as I arrived, I was reminded. Though truthfully I was reminded the moment I started receiving information about my future job in the mail, letters requiring me to respond with forms filled out in triplicate,being sent contracts and photocopies of contracts and instructions on how to read the contracts... it's crazy!

Even today I walked away from the bank with One folder full of information, one giant packet – one of three copies that I had to go through and sign, writing on each page "read and approved" before putting down my ol' john hancock.
I did not, however, walk away from the bank with a shiny new card. That I will get in the mail in around 8 days, maybe, depending on how I understood things. In 8 days, there will someone delivering something to me, that only I can sign for... either this will be my card and some paperwork, or it will just be some paperwork and I will have to return to the bank to pick up my card. Either way, it is a bit more complicated than I think it needs to be (ans I am, of course, an authority on banking practices).

Complication aside, the only real reason I can imagine for such an extensive use papers and documentation, is that France hates trees.

This is just their sneaky, backdoor way of killing all the trees in the world.

Someday, when there are no more trees left, someone will turn to France, staring at it with big, watery eyes, and this person will ask "Why France? Why did you kill all of the trees?"
And France will reply, shrugging, as it nonchalantly puts out its cigarette on its italian leather boot, "well, obviously, people needed bank accounts, what was to be done?"

...

At least that is my theory.


In totally unrelated news, today was the worst possible day to go for a bike ride and forget my camera. It was beautiful and sunny and I stumbled upon some really lovely streets.

I am also determined to go to this place:
http://www.lesmachines-nantes.fr/english/machines.html

It looks like a wonderful sort of dream!/I am a little bit jealous that I was not involved.

I promise not to forget my camera when I go.

.

First Week Down - check

Last night I made homemade french fries. In France!
...I'm still not all that crazy about fries, but gosh, it's the novelty of the thing that counts.

Today I bought a bike for 20€ ! It's black, and almost tall enough for me (which is a big deal) and it only needs some minor repairs.
I am officially mobile!

Getting There Is Half the Fun

What a crazy summer it has been – running (and hiking, and floating) all over the great state of Montana, getting stalled by tornadoes in Chicago, cruising up and down the west coast and driving through trees. I really couldn't have asked for more. I was able to spend time with family and with friends and now that I am in a far and distant land, that time spent with my loved ones is what I'm holding onto most dearly.

Okay. Enough sappy stuff.

As wonderful and wild as it was, summer is over and I am writing this from my apartment in Nantes, listening to the sound of rain patter against the windows, trying to decide if I should go for that 4th cup of tea.

It sounds quaint, doesn't it. But oh man alive, was it ever a lot of work to get here.

First, I must say, that I started my travels a week before actually leaving the country

– Don't get me wrong, I had the most amazing time visiting friends in New York that I hadn't seen for a year. It was like a family reunion! I can't express how wonderful it was to spend time with everyone, and on nights when we organized the whole gang, it made me think for brief moments that I was still in Bozeman, in film school, and that we were just waiting for the rest of the group to fish class and come join us.
And in addition to being very cozy and nostalgic, New York is a pretty nifty place!

I walked around a lot, tried to visit most of the neighborhoods in Manhattan, pointed at hipsters in Williamsburg, I even braved Times Square (but only because I thought of the taunting I would receive if I went to the Big Apple and didn't at least peak at it) and I did pretty much get off the subway, step into the swarming crowds and the flashing lights, mutter "oh gross" to myself and then decide to get a picture of the Atlas statue from the 30 Rock credits (which by the way, is surprisingly difficult to locate. I almost gave up.) and then go back down to one of the quieter areas.

Voilà, the much-sought Atlas photo:






The highlight of the "Big City" experience was going to a rooftop party at the Met with Maddie and watching the sun set on the skyline.








But even as the city was luring me in, it's beguiling bustle convincing me to stay and set up house, I had to get on a plane and leave.

But I missed that plane (tell you what, rush-hour traffic in New York is NO Joke) and had to spend one more night in New York (got to spend one more night with friends) while insanely trying to rebook train tickets and coordinate with people along the way.
After one pretty long flight, a twelve hour layover in Dusseldörf and one shorter flight, I finally landed in Paris.
When my flight changed, I ended up having to spend one night in Paris and then catching a train to Nantes the next morning; now, the average traveller would chalk this up as yet another fee to add on to the mounting expenses of missing one's flight, but not me!
Firstly, I really doubt that I could have found a hotel on such short notice… perhaps I could have gotten ahold of a friend who may still be living in Paris, but I didn't have much time to coordinate anything.
Secondly, I fancy myself quite the conditioned toughie… though I really doubt that this is true…
Anyway, I decided that I would just stay up aaaaall night, wandering the streets of Paris. It sounded kind of romantic in my head, a little bit daring, with a touch of the poetic… and maybe it was for the first couple of hours, walking through the quiet, softly lit streets… but I had already been awake for about 24 hours and it was a little bit chilly in Paris that night.

My first move – indeed, probably my smartest move was to head directly to the nearest movie theater upon checking my luggage at the train station. I decided to watch "Inception" again, since it was the longest film screening. I saw parts of the movie for the second time, the rest of it, I slept through, which I'm not gonna lie, was REALLY nice.
Even with my brilliant cinematic break, I found myself once again on the streets of Paris at about midnight, a little bit cold and very tired.
What was most interesting is that the ol' city of lights has more or less stayed with me. I stepped out of the train station and knew exactly which way to start walking to reach the latin quarter, where I thought there might be a little bit more of a nightlife. I found my way around without any real trouble, bought a pannini, drank two cokes (my quota for the year, yuck) I sat by Notre Dame and read a book. I walked across Pont Neuf, and then back again across Le Pont des Arts, I read again under a street lamp by Luxembourg Gardens, and finally, I found a 24 hour cafe not far from the train where I consumed two coffees (very slowly… slowly enough to justify my sitting there reading for three hours).

Finally I staggered, with all of my possessions for the year, onto the train that would take me Nantes.
I couldn't even sleep because of all the stupid caffeine in my system. I mostly just sat there with my eyes closed, feeling a little bit nauseous.

When I did finally get to Nantes, there were the parents of my new roommate, waiting for me with a sign. I've never had a sign before! And they wouldn't even let me touch my bags. They carried all of my stuff (and it was A LOT of stuff) up the stairs, got me settled in, made up my bed, and then, while I was taking a shower, they bought me a bunch of groceries!

It was so good, after being more or less awake for about 3 days to have someone coddling me, stepping in as my proxy parents. I love them.
I haven't met their son yet (he's been a-travellin' and gets back tomorrow) but if he is anything like them, it is going to be a great year!



This is already getting a bit long, so I think I will cut it off here.

But know that I am happy, I am safe, and I have already made some friends, so everything is grand!
I'll meet with the coordinator for my schools next week and am settling in pretty well.

This may sound weird, but it feels kind of normal to be here. It might be because I've been traveling so much this summer and I'm still in jump-around mode, but I was expecting some sort of culture shock, and I haven't had that at all. There have been a few moments, like remembering that France smells like a toilet sometimes, that you have to ask for your bill at restaurants, or that everyone dresses with more style than I may ever manage in my whole life… but all in all, I feel pretty well settled in.
I definitely need to practice my French, but that will come.

For now, here are some pictures:




The view from my kitchen window






The Chateau






The Solarium in the Garden






A charming little French street

And They're Off!

After 2 years (and a little bit) of absolutely no blogging, I am back!


Updates soon to follow!