geneve and lyon

So I did indeed finally make it to Geneva.

My friends and I spent the day roaming the little streets of the quaint yet expensive lakeside city. As we shivered through the label lined streets we dodged the human mannequins swaggering in their diamond watches and fur coats. Despite the obvious wealth the cobbled, cafe lined streets of Geneva still welcomed us drawing us into dusty antique books stores and warm cafes with hot mulled wine to defrost our painful fingers and toes. And I must say, the drive itself there and back was as breathtaking as the city itself, as we drove down into Switzerland from the Haut Jura the sun light sent slivers of silver shooting across the snow coated fir tress that cling to the steep slopes there.

That night we spent the evening in one Champagnole's landmarks. Big Ben's. Big Ben's is an anglomaniac's dream. The walls are coated in everything from Guns and Roses posters to slightly distasteful postcards featuring ornate genitalia. (hilarious). There is not much else to say about this little corner of the world but they do say a picture can say a thousand words...

france, a country of art, culture and class

The remainder of the week consisted as always of Italian class, which I am growing fonder of by the day - just can't seem to learn enough quick enough! Mas parlo un po italiano! (or something like that anyway). And tutoring my lovely Swiss family. We also spent a night making homemade pizzas with friends followed by cidre bretonne and too much lemon cheesecake!

And that brings me up to this weekend, which I spent in beautiful Lyon!

I met two very special friends at Part Dieu on Friday morning for what was to be a weekend to remember in a sun flooded Lyon. We spent the day wandering through the streets, trouv-ing ses marques, drinking Starbucks (shameful in France, yet necessary when enjoying a little weekend of home comforts). We took lunch in a little Italian restaurant and filled each other in on life in France before returning to what turned out to be a great little hotel. That evening we met up with Audrey and her lovely fiance David for 'un repas traditional' in 'un bouchon' which is a small Lyonnais restaurant which specialise in local delicacies. The name 'Vielle Canaille' which I think translates to something like ' the old rotter' haha. We ate Salade des Quenelles, Cervelles de Canut and Reblochonnade. (apologies for any awful spelling errors in advance!) It was fantastic to see Audrey again and chat away in French - made us all realise how much our French has improved during our time here!

reunited 

kid skate boarding indulging me in my attempts to take cool shots of the skate park

perfect

The next day we met Audrey in order to explore Le Parc de la Tete d'Or (which I would reccomend to anyone planning on taking a trip to Lyon - http://www.lyon.fr/vdl/sections/fr/environnement/parcs_jardins/tete_or_1/_ )

The park boasts a lake, botanical gardens and a zoo full of interesting animals. We strolled and laughed in the morning sunshine forgetting all our worries and homesickness. 

 We ate lunch at Audrey's place and met her two little babies (cats) who were adorable, and tool quite a shine to Megan! After lunch, loaded with a map and a mission we headed off to find Le Basilique Notre Dame and the ancient Roman theatre. Both of which were stunning, the Basilique offering a breathtaking view over Lyon.

We spent our final night in Lyon watching the France vs. Scotland game in an Irish bar 'The Smoking Dog' in the old quarter of Lyon, the atmosphere was fantastic and the Guiness far from disappointing. Afterwards we once again hunted down some more Lyonnais traditional food at Chez Louise. We sat chatting and laughing to the point of tears into the early ours. Just what we all needed to pull us through to the next holiday!

Megan and her phallic boudin. No more needs to be said on this matter.

A lazy morning eating crepes and gauffres, slurping coffee and relaxing on the riverbank softened a sad goodbye and made a perfect ending to a perfect weekend. I've already started planning a trip to Marseille for after the vacances! 

Bern this weekend, until then, au revoir! x

bon anneé...I think it might be

Okay, so once again I have managed to fall completely behind with this blog.
So time for catch up.

The pre-Christmas meals I attended were delightful, filled with good food, rich wine and engaging conversation. The festive spirit in the schools and street carried me through the last few days until it was time for me once more to don my backpack and battle with the french rail system, but this time to go home!!
Every step was a challenge. I woke up to five or six inches of snow. And so, at the very cold and darnk time of 6.30am I half stumbled half slid to the train station. This small voyage involved having to dodge a snow plough and falling flat on my face. It simply was not a good start.
However, a 'few' hours later I arrived to see a very beautiful friendly face meeting me at St Pancreas! Seeing my friend again was definitely a highlight. We spent the night consuming a little too much wine in London pub followed by food at an Indian restaurant...couldn't have asked for much more on my first night back in England!

The next day was, finally, hometime! My family met a very tired me at the station and quickly rushed me home to hear all the stories and see all the photos. Being back in my tiny  snow covered village with my family and friends was all I needed for a perfect Christmas! I also had time to pop back to my much missed Sheffield for a fleeting, but fantastic visit! The end of the week was topped off when yet another friend came to visit me at home for a long catch up and once again a little too much alcohol consumption, quite the novelty after 3 months of very little drinking.

reunited.

My village under the snow

A potentially sad departure was eased by plans to spend New Year in London with my University friends. We had a fantastic night, even if it did result in us walking five miles in order to get back to our hostel! 

**Note to self, NEVER attempt use London public transport on New Years Eve**

These guys.

Having now been back in France for three weeks it would be very easy me to say returning was easy, as now, I am truly enjoying myself. However, the first couple of weeks back here were pretty hard. But its not a hard life... Since being back I have explored the beautiful snowy slopes of Les Rousses in glorious sunshine whilst munching on Swiss artisan chocolates and have visited a very dear friend over in Dijon for a weekend of shopping, food and gossip!

Les Rousses from the Church

Sun peeking through the sapins

A very nice coffee!

And the excitement continues! Last night I spent a lovely time at ‘Une soirée anglaise’...which, whilst didn’t really help my french, it did introduce to me to more people, most of whom have studied or worked in England (one studied in Crewe, another was an assistant in Stoke-on-Trent and one had lived in Sheffield ! Small world). 

In the coming weeks I have plans to go Lyon and Bern, and then I shall be making a fleeting visit home for the February holidays.

Today I’m hopefully heading to Geneva with some other assistants, quite excited!

Thats all for now, au revoir! 

roast chesnuts and very naughty children

The children of France have clearly not heard about Christmas being a time of good will and love. As it gets closer and closer to Christmas their previously angelic interest in how to recite colours, numbers and shapes in English is transforming in an obvious hate for school and general disdain for their teachers, including me. Getting a child to actually sit in their chair for an entire class is now as likely as me swimming back to England in 9 days time. My anger now seems to trigger fits of giggles whereas before it would leave them dumfounded and in complete blissful silence. But don’t worry Santa, I’m making my list, I’m checking it twice and most of my kids are naughty, and no longer nice!

However, some of my less obnoxious students have still managed to supply me with some classroom entertainment. In class last week I had to, ever adoring, girls ask me excitedly if I like ‘twoilet?’ Sorry? ‘ toilette’? (do I like toilets? What?) ‘TWIIILITT!!’...oh Twilight! Ah I see the sultry blood sucking chalk board that is Edward Cullen has even managed to melt the hearts of France’s six year olds. How delightful. Elsewhere, as I was trying to introduce a group to word order using shapes colours and sizes one boy managed to point at a chosen object and announce with a furious enthusiasm that is was in fact not a big blue circle as I was lead to believe but a ‘pig circle blue’.

And for the record, the lyrics to one of my favourite Christmas songs are now in fact ‘jungle bells jungle bells, he is in the way!’ Hilarious.

I once again spent my Thursday night in the company of the lovely Swiss-German family. This resulted once more in me and my housemate being gently forced into trying some of France/Switzerland’s less delicate fusions of fruit and what I can only believe to be petrol.

And that brings me to the weekend. Strasbourg was quite simply amazing. The lights, the smells, the cathedral! We arrived on Saturday at midday and went on to explore the contents of a million little wooden stalls. With the frost biting at our ears and noses we were often obliged to charge towards vin chaud (mulled wine) stalls where we would guzzle down beakers of Christmassy delight followed by warm chocolately gaufres (waffles). 

vin chaud

beautiful cathedral

le grand sapin

As the night descended the crowds multiplied but so did the atmosphere. Every street lined with vibrant fairy lights, filled with the smell of roast chestnuts and general festive cheer. Before heading back to the hostel (which in itself was quite the adventure as the tram decided to go on strike, shock) we went found ourselves a warm little restaurant where we watched people eat, but did not quite dare try choucroute (not sure thats how you spell it). Instead I chose a steak in mustard sauce and Caitlin daringly tried the local vegetarian speciality, roast potatoes with white cheese (which tastes a lot like nature yoghurt). Back at the hostel we met our roomie for the night, a young German who was training to be a gardener who works with disabled people, in a village where they all live, interesting. Personally, I found it hard to get over the fact that she was a spitting image of Moaning Myrtle.

The next day we explored the cobbled streets of petite france where I got attacked by a large rodent, whose name I cannot remember – see pictures. Terrifying. Before heading home we dipped into a small literary café called ‘La Tinta’ – which I highly recommend. The interior was charming and quirky and the food was delicious, a chose ‘Le Tartine au Chevre’ which consisted of good french bread topped with honey, almonds, a slice of pear and lots and lots of goats cheese. NOM. 

It was a perfect Christmas weekend, until our train decided to collide with ‘une personne’ on the track at Montbeillard leaving us sitting in cold darkness for three hours whilst the body was ‘désengagé ’, delightful. This meant that our poor housemate had to come and fetch us from Besancon on a very cold wet Sunday night, sorry Ben!!

And I think that is all I have to share. Italian is going well, got three dinner invitations and one dinner party to throw over the next nine days, and then I am very much homeward bound.