Friday 7 February 2014

Three months in one and welcome to my new home!

After a regrettable three-month’s absence from my blog I return to tell you all of my new home. I do plan on writing more about my time in India and Nepal last year, however for now I will give you a brief update about my new home.

I have spent three months hopping between cities and countries, not having stopped anywhere for over a week since November. Term finished at LSR and I went for 2013-trek number two in Nepal. Trek number two finished and I went to Bangalore with my friend Nee, Delhi for a colourful three-day wedding, Kolkata to visit the kids at Future Hope (where I previously volunteered for six months), onwards to Thailand where I visited family and swam in the clear blue sea with the lovely Anu, then to the UK for a whirlwind one week of visiting more family. It was then time to start my new life and my next semester here in Tours, France.
Everest sunrise in Nepal, Nov 2013
Mum and I at the end of our 2 week Nepal trek

Cooking with Neeharika in Bangalore - yum!
Anjali's sister's wedding: colour, sarees, music and all-nighters
View from our Thailand bungalows
I baked an apple pie for Khun Yai before Christmas
('Did you forget the sugar?')
Dad and Brother

Thong repair number 2: Kolkata
Sunset on Church Farm
To start I live in Sanitas, the dodgier part of town, in an 18m2 room. My window overlooks the parking lot, in which I am able to observe daily drug deals with satisfying anonymity. In my room is a very single bed (the mattress is smaller than the single frame), a wardrobe, shelf, desk and bedside table. In the entrance to my apartment is a counter equipped with two electric stove rings and a sink. Off to the side is a small bathroom. It feels a bit like an old hospital, the floors being plastic, the walls all white and the hallways dark and haunted, yet it is reassuring to know I have a place that is my own in this very foreign city.
My first French ad - Please save me from Sanitas!
I arrived in Tours three weeks ago today, on the 12th of Jan. My date of arrival was supposed to be four days prior to that but I managed to (rather dramatically) miss my Wednesday morning flight; let’s just say I am in no way a fan of the security staff at Stansted Airport.
In the Ryanair boarding queue I stood bemused as people pushed and shoved in order to reach the front of the line; the prospect of acquiring the best seats on an aeroplane evidently leads many Europeans to abandon pleasantries and politeness. Happy to have made the boarding gate and relieved I’d got away with my overweight baggage, I wasn’t fussed about which seat I would get.

I was busy thinking about what my Couchsurfing host in Tours would be like and whether I would have enough blankets to keep me warm as I curled up on his leather sofa when someone in front of me turned and said,
“Do you need help with all that?”
That was how I met Marie, a fun French woman on a family visit to Tours, who speaks with a very British accent (‘innit?’) and has been wonderful to me since that moment in the crazy queue. Marie was unsure I would be let on the plane with my four (rather than the specified two) items of hand luggage. Of course I was confident I would manage – I am masterful in the art of hand luggage disguise – but as Marie offered I gladly let her take one of my bags and from then on we became good friends. I ended up standing up my Couchsurfing host and being driven back to Marie’s family home, where a hot dinner, king’s pie, and delicious cheese platter awaited our arrival. Marie’s family was kind and welcoming and I stayed for the next two nights.
Place Jean-Jaures
The town square
Over the next few days Marie drove me around, translated for me and showed me the city. We went for drinks in Old Tours, wolf-whistled at tall French men, disapproved of the tea at Ikea, ate croissants and discussed starting a coffee shop in the city. On day three I moved into my apartment and Marie helped me get settled here over the next couple of weeks.

Of course, some of the first friends I found here were other Australians. We seem to have magnetic qualities that draw us together with impressive speed and my first night out with other students ended up being surprisingly patriotic. I was surprised by the number of exchange students in Tours – contrary to my expectations of it being a tiny, unknown French city Tours turns out to be quite a popular destination for people all over the world. Besides the Aussies I have been spending time with Canadians, Italians, Spanish, Polish, Irish and Greeks. The mix of languages, traditions and food makes dinner parties and nights out all the more fun.

A bit about France and the lifestyle: Well I feel like the discussion must start with food. The French love their food, I love their food and therefore it makes sense to start here. To begin I will confirm that all the clichés are true. French people riding old fashioned bicycles with baguettes in their woven baskets, delicious croissants in every second shop and featuring in most breakfast spreads, and of course CHEESE. It is delicious and cheap and is eaten in sandwiches at lunch and with baguettes after dinner (before dessert). This area is known for its goat cheese and wine and I can see why – there are endless selections, each as delicious as the last. I could go on forever about cheese.
A traditional crepe evening with my new friends
Vegetarianism in France is something unexpected and rarely accepted. Most of the French people I inform I am a vegetarian first clarify, “So you eat ham and fish?” When I reply that they also count as meat in my eyes I receive looks of pity and admonition. Eating out is not easy (goat cheese salad or a goat cheese crepe?) and I usually just end up getting a goat cheese and walnut sandwich from the boulangerie instead. Supermakets and markets are stocked with a lot of fresh produce and I therefore find cooking for myself easy. I have to say I think it is about time the French culinary scene embraced vegetarianism and came up with a few more dishes.
Tours in a glass
University. I am now in my official third week at uni and am still struggling to find out what subjects are on offer. The faculty is astonishingly disorganised and I am surprised the students manage to discover what classes they are in. Scarce funding appears to have gone into employing an artist to paint swirly signs and bendy postmodern people that appear beside doorframes and are swallowed up by the vast white corridors. On a positive note the classes I have attended have been interesting and my teachers are from all over the place – American, British, African, French. My plan for now is to attend as many classes as necessary and hope a timetable designs itself for me.
Our local cathedral - 5th Century BC
In general I like Tours and find myself settling into lifestyle here quickly. I swim in a nearby Olympic-size pool a few times a week, have found a great Iyengar yoga teacher, and am now in possession of a hip, leather-seated bicycle on which I cruise the cobble streets and with which plan to embark upon many explorative ventures. I am still struggling to adapt to the strange opening hours of French shops (all shops closed for lunch, after five, and on Sundays and Mondays) and the pool, which opens only for two hours most days of the week, but suppose it is just a matter of time (excuse the pun).

Since I began writing this blog I have given notice and am on the hunt for a room in a more pleasant neighbourhood. My French is already improving and I manage to get my message across most times. Ask me in a few weeks and I’ll be living in a beautiful apartment in central Tours speaking fluent French to the boulangeri owners across the rue.

Voila – you are up to date. Expect to hear more from me soon!
A bientot!