On y go: Nantes

I met my friend Clémence in January when she responded to my search for a language exchange buddy on the La Rochelle couchsurfing group. She's a student at the university here, was a French assistant in England last year and is really into BD, or French/Belgian graphic novels, which I've also grown to love. We got lucky because we get along really well and have plenty to chat about. Last weekend she was sweet enough to take me along with her to Nantes, a city about 2 hours north of La Rochelle where her sister Adele lives.

Our covoiturage was really pleasant, and once arriving in the city we had time to wander around the market, which was bigger, cheaper, more diverse and better smelling than La Rochelle's. After a trip through the market as well as HM we met up with Adele, her boyfriend, and Clémence's good friend Pauline who lives in Rennes and was visiting for the day. We got lunch and then took shelter from the freeze in a cute cafe that was hung with bright watercolor portraits of quirky looking people and a chandelier made from old green glass wine bottles.

Then Pauline, Clémence and I set off on what became a three hour tour of the city. Though I felt much like a block of ice as we walked, the sun was out and the city looked winter gorgeous. The river was afloat with sheets of ice and leftover snow clung in patches. Our wandering took us along the Sèvre and the île de Nantes which houses the Machines. I haven't read him, so I don't totally understand the connection, but Jules Vernes grew up in Nantes and the Machines—steam punky mechanical animals, trees and a carousel—are rendered after his stories. We only saw one, but it was pretty impressive: a life-size elephant made from wood and metal, intricate and in motion! It's trunk waved and it walked around. Trop cool.

To get to Adele's apartment we took the tram and then a naturey walk along another river (three rivers cross through the city). We had a really lovely night watching Sex and the City, eating Croque Monsieur (toasted ham and cheese with an egg on top) and giggling. Pauline and Clemènce are really silly friends who make lots of noises and might be even more obsessed with food than I am. This was fun to be around, as were the two sisters. It's kind of exhausting speaking French all the time, and because of this I tend to zone out sometimes and just watch people interact. It's funny how you can miss cozy, family-like atmospheres and relationships and satisfy the lack just by being around them.

The whole weekend, especially our lazy sunday in Adele's cozy apartment, had a similar comforting effect as going for dinner at a real house with a real family when you are a college freshman living in a dorm room. Really nice.

This week it has finally warmed up and is doing what February does in Portland: fake spring. I can't complain. Thanks to Pauline and her smartphone for the pretty photos and to Clemence for the great weekend!

Add caption

Snowdaze

I'm sitting in the university library and there is an old man sitting next to me in a huge fur hat reading a newspaper with a magnifying glass. In other words, France is still incredibly French. Groups of elderly men still stop and watch the commercial boats lift things out of the port and people still light and smoke cigarettea while pedaling along on their bikes. And this week an inch or so of snow stopped everything and gave students the guilt-free excuse to get out of school for most of the week.

Last week I wrote about grayness, but since then things have changedddd. White cold has taken over.

I've never ridden my bike in the snow before or seen snow by the sea, but it's all quite cute, as was the energy at Valin, where parents couldn't be bothered to send their kids and the ones who did come to class easily talked me into holding a little conversation hour instead of giving them mock exams.

Between reading and snow and nights out with friends, I've realized lately how weirdly high my quality of life is here. The French are also growing on me exponentially, probably due to my growing comfort with the language and knowing what I want and where I want to go at the market and the boulangerie. Thankfully it doesn't seem like I'm the type to make problems or anxieties when I'm lacking in them (usually). So that means that when my life is relaxed, just exciting enough, pleasant on a daily basis and full of lovely people, I'm plain happy as a cat. Though I would be happier if I actually had a cat, obviously.