The wheels on the bus go round and round for 7 hours...

Try to "blend in and not be blatant" on this bus lol

After such lovely breakfast, I check out of hotel and began my impossible search for my group at the airport. But after embarrassing, "Are you going to Pont Aven?" (sounding like Brad Pitt in Inglorious Bastards I'm sure), I found them! 21 of us total, 14 girls and 7 boys---joy. Most everyone is from the East Coast or California, with one girl who goes to a school in Iowa...then me. Everyone hears I'm from Boulder and goes, "yay I've heard it's amazing, do you just love it?" We began swapping stories and note that this is a group of art students, aka a different kind of breed. They are all wonderful people, but quite hipster, philosophical, serious, a little pretentious, beyond geniuses, and their idea of a party is having a glass of wine with their parents once a month. Perhaps I will be a good thing to this group: my awkward timing, constant joking, and smiley sense of fun...or I'll scare them to death/sit in the corner by myself--but I don't think so. We shall see everyone's true character after a few glasses of van ;)

So we rode this bus for 7 hours from Paris to Pont Aven...except for the two breaks I slept the entire time waking up with my mouth wide open, dried up except for the pool of drool on my shoulder--great first impressions. I bought a cosmo in French, figured I could slowly translate it over the semester! 

Plaisir = to please...apparently

We finally arrived late at night, the town completely pitch black-awesome. The girl sitting behind me on the bus ended up being my roommate (no we do not share rooms but at least we can venture to a new family togeher). Ying is originally from Taiwan but now lives in New Jersey. She giggles at everything, but is fun and up to try anything. They called our names and at the front of the bus sat our new host parents, both about 3 feet tall. I practically yelled Bonsoi and hugged her, which probably frightened all 3 foot of nerves she ever had out. 

The short 2 min. drive was awkward and quiet, but they had a wonderful meal waiting for us. I was so hungry and thought the couscous and tomatoes was all we were going to have so I started to reload when she exclaimed, "le quiche"! Beautiful huge piece of quiche with fromage et poisson was tres bien. Followed by a plate of quarte different kinds of cheeses with wine. Then dessert: caramel ice cream cake-uhhhh! I didn't take pictures because we were trying to communicate the entire time...they don't speak English. Lots of charades, dictionary, drawing, writing, etc. and little by little the one semester of French I took back during Freshman year began to come back-yay! What a sweet older couple Annik et Roland: they have children now older and married, and their house is beautifully decorated. I told Annik, "J'adore que petit vous etes", and she understood because she laughed--yay progress! They understood how tired we were and showed our rooms, beautiful and happy to be here finally!

The mattress is blown up air, but it's warm, comfy, and quanit!

Maybe it's because I took a picture of my food

Breakfast at Hotel Ibis: Hot chocolate, water, milk, fruit with cream, cheese, 

ham, crepes, nutella, apricot jam, croissant. 

What a great night sleep, finally being able to lay down without the humming drone of engines was amazing. I went to breakfast this morning (at 7 am which I am never up at this unglorious hour as no one should be but yay for time difference) included in my stay, and it was amazing! I need to get over the paranoia though, "why are they staring at me? is it because i'm the only one under 30 in here? Oh my god they know I'm american, it's too obvious! Maybe because I'm taking a picture of my food. Maybe because I'm the only one eating by myself who isn't an old man. Maybe because I took more than just one croissant for breakfast, or because I'm not drinking triple shots of espresso because who wants to be that wired right now. " Bahahahahaha...ya that needs to stop. 

I've learned just because you can ask something in French does not mean you will know the response--at all. Some woman at breakfast was laughing and pointing at the jam, then looked at me. I laughed and smiled and left with no idea what she was implying, "oh yes, I thought the raspberry jam was hilarious too ha ha". 

Glad to be out of airplane clothes, gross. Wearing boots today, threw away those other shoes finally. Still blisters, but they are getting better. I took solanyx to stop my cold/sore throat coming on, hopefully it helps. Feeling good, and hopefully looking better because every here is absolutely naturally beautiful--women and men, on TV and at hotel--geez.

Some things are universal, like babies crying. Seems obvious but I was surprised to hear some little French boy just wailing in the cafe, what?!? French babies don't complain, they are born chic. But there are some things that are weird and different, like having an antibiotic commercial with the music from X-Files in the background, why? Either way I laughed. Oh and like the hotel hairdryer in my bathroom, looks like an elephant trunk, took me forever to figure out, check this out!

To Paris With Love (but without John Travolta or Jonathan Rhys Meyers)

L'Hotel Ibis

After my boarding pass printer not working at Frankfurt—just my luck, I finally made it onto my connecting flight. Oh the beautiful French language (and finally not sounding like German people are yelling at me all the time) surrounds me, and though cliché I took out my pocket sized dictionary on the plane and smiled as I’d quietly pronounce it finally feeling like I was home, though I feel I will never use “scotswoman” or “killing someone with a bullet” in my vocabulary but who knows! Perhaps I will have to discuss women from Scotland who were snipers to natives.

I should fly AirFrance everytime, I don’t know if it was because I was so close to being done traveling or so tired, but the flight was amazing. Even though it wasn’t even a 2 hour flight, they served me lunch (salmon with cauliflower, coleslaw, cheese, brownie, olives, mmmmmm though I know my brother Will is disgusted right now lol) and not to mention that on both flights they kept offering, as I kept taking, wine and tea. I began to read my paperback that I bought, and to my amazing surprise it is kind of a romance novel (love it-my favorite with seriously no sarcasm).

The man on AirFrance was lovely with a sense of humor I finally could laugh with as he said, “You have special boarding pass? You sit underneath with luggage” before bursting into hysteria—Annika, there’s hope for friends with our humor in France. When he served me lunch he was so happy and just kept giving me drinks until my entire tray-table was covered: water, tea, and champagne. Yes, I drank the champagne and after such lunch I fell right to sleep happy as a fat American baby.

I stumbled off the plane smiling ear to ear because I was finally in France, and I think he drugged the champagne because I was feeling buzzed, “let’s go fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind my luuuuuuuuuggage”—ha ha ugh. I tried my French on asking where my carousel was, and it worked because they answered back and I don’t know what they said. I finally found it, and my awesome bright, blue suitcase came around as I headed to my hotel located at a different terminal connected to the airport.

And here I am watching French TV, with my 15 minutes of free wifi (found that out the hard way), taking naps on and off, getting a good shower in, and excited for breakfast in the morning. I keep hearing cellphones, and though I want to call everyone and tell them what’s happening, it’s nice knowing I am here alone, independent on the other side of the world. I am relaxed and though tired, ready to meet everyone who will be my new family for the next 3 ½ months in the airport tomorrow. By the way my chicas, French men—actually European men in general—just come visit me (wink wink, nudge nudge)!

One blister....ouch

Long flight, coughing, blisters, and still having fun!

This is what I woke up to outside my window!

So 10 hours on a flight overnight next to an oversized man, though very nice, caused me to spoon the window the entire time. Oh and not to mention the girl in front of me tested how far back she could go, I pretty much was staring at her face in my lap. I finally got to see Despicable Me however, cute movie, followed by Easy A, Cats and Dogs 2: Revenge of Kitty Galore, and Eat Pray Love. The food wasn’t half bad, better than the sausages I had for toes—my feet were so incredibly swollen the entire flight; I walked around, drank water, and even did yoga in the bathroom. It could have been my new shoes that are apparently too small and have given me blisters everywhere, can’t wait to find some cheap ones in Paris or at least until I can grab other shoes in my suitcase. Oh and some man with whooping cough (quite apparently still in existence) coughed for a couple hours straight nont-stop. Even he didn’t already sound like he was going to die, I was going to kill him. Though I’m starting to cough and can feel the sickness coming on that everyone here has. But the end finally came and I parted ways with the man who hogged the armrest, he was sweet and was on his way to visit his dad in the hospital in Dubai, so I can’t complain much.

I arrive in cloudy, yet beautiful, in it’s own way, Frankfurt completely lost on how to get to my other flight. After walking everywhere on my toes—stupid shoes—and using what little German I learned from my family (though I don’t think “ich lieve dich” would work in this situation, needless to say I would smile people and they either checked me out or glared back) I finally found the gate. Of course they changed it three times, more walking-glourious, but did the guy who works for AirFrance just give me his number? I’m afraid so, “here is my contact info if you’re ever in the area and want to see more of Frankfurt” followed by a piece of paper with his name and number on it. Definitely a hit on since he went out of his way to come to my gate and ask me for my name again. Bahahahahaha…let the Reign of European of Men begin!!!

Frankfurt!

Bonjour!...I mean, Gootentag?

Count them, 5 tickets for flights thus far in my hand and I have not even left yet. After all the goodbyes (hugs, kisses, hangouts, lunches, calls, emails, facebook messages, texts--welcome to 2011 where the number of ways to say goodbye even for a short 3 ½ months has become an event, and a half-tee hee, in itself) I was finally relaxed, stoked, and prepared enough when I boarded my plane at 11:15 AM. I had barely won over the armrest when the glorious chime rang in, “Due to delay and engine problems, we will be sitting here like sardines with no moving air for an hour before HOPEFULLY taking off”, well it wasn’t verbatim, but I’m practicing my translation methods before I leave.

I’ll spare you the details of my bobbing head nap, and explain that I finally have a new route due to the blizzard in my previous connection that is making Philly steak sandwiches soggy. I have traded in my beret and switched out for lederhosen, for I am off at 5:40 PM on a 12 hour, or so, flight to Frankfurt. Then from there I will trade in my stein of beer for champagne as I will finally arrive in Paris tomorrow.

For now I sit at the airport taking the first picture of thousands to come!  I made new friends already, a group of guys who had just come from Vegas and were turning concourse A into a remix of Tao, Pure, and Jet with their clubbin’ laptops. Oh and of course the one girl who comes up to ask for my help happens to be from France. She gave me kind words of guidance, “It will be hard for you, the school, the culture, the language, it will be so hard for you”. Thank you lovely mademoiselle, that’s comforting. Regardless of such inspiration, I am now popping in my ipod listening to the French man and repeating after him... “Au Revoir”!

Last view of U.S.A. before flying off, beautiful night to leave on!