Rochelais and the Longest Entry Yet

  La Rochelle, France
Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Et je suis ici, en France, à La Rochelle.

Bonjour. 
Je m'appelle Gemma et je parle le français.  Sort of.

I left home (Debs') at 6:40 this morning - to avoid any horrible traffic situation on the M25 or M23 etc. We arrived nice and early at Gatwick airport, around 7:30am - it was either leave early & arrive early, or leave at a normal time and get caught for hours in the morning rush. Debs stayed with me for about half and hour, but then had to go.  I loitered near check-in for a bit before finally, at 8am, going up to the counter.  Check-in wasn't meant to open until 8:20, but the sign was up; apparently it was really quiet so they could open up more flights for check in at a time.  Then it was through to duty free world, where I didn't buy I thing.  Aren't you proud of me?

At about 9:45 we were boarding at gate 1 on to a plane that was just a little bit French - the recorded messages were in French, the spoken messages were in both French and English, and so many people on the plane were chatting way in French.  For the sake of french listening skills, I did my best to eavesdrop, but to very little avail.  I was able, however, to pick out one of the guys behind me pointing out a castle to his firend as we flew into La Rochelle, and thanks to that I saw it too.  See - French is useful.

Bienvenue à le aèroport de La Rochelle

I didn't have to wait too long before Elsa arrived, with Rebekka!  So, fortunately, I had no trouble recognising her. We caught the bus to some place with lots of shops, where we bought lunch and sat by the water to eat it, me still with my suitcase and hand luggage.  We then caught another bus to the University administrative building, where Elsa took us up a flight of stairs (me left struggling to pull my case up).  I finiall reached the top and hurried around the corner and don a corridor to catch up with them.  There we spoke with a woman who asked us (in french) what we were studing, when we arrived, to see our passports, and when we were leaving.  Then it was back down stairs, which proved to be ever more difficult than going up.  I then had to hurry again to catch up with them before I lost sight of them.  Elsa then directed us to where Rebekka and I had to register, which we did, more or less in French: Rebekka more, me less. 

That being done, we walked, me still with my suitcase, to A.R.P.A.E., the housing people, because Rebekka was quite unimpressed with our room and wanted to try to change.  Not having yet seen it, I didn't really have an opinion.  As we expected, there was nothing else available, and I was quietly relived that I didn't have to go to more trouble than was necessary changing things, and paperwork, and money (not like I really could afford anything better if it was available anyway!), and all of it in French.  As it was, I had forms to sign and rent to pay.  Eww.  But at least I could pay.  Poor Rebekka was mugged a week ago in... Spain?  Can't remember where - she has done a fair it of travelling.  So she doesn't have any money or credit cards.  Thank goodness for parents, hey?

We then walked a bit further (after getting my suitcase down stairs again), stopping at a map on a sign.  Where to go now?  The supermarket and then back to the accommodation?  By now I was so exchausted, and so hot, not having expected to amazing summer weather here, that I said, probably more abruptly than I meant to, that I had to go and get rid of my suitcase first.  Ahh well.  It worked, and we went back to the accommodation...

Here it was...  We went upstairs (lugging suitcase again) and down corridors to a door, where Rebekka stopped (turns out she actually arrived yesterday, but stayed in a hosel last night and came here this morning already).  She fiddled with the key, but it would not open.  Then I had a turn but still it would not open.  I even knocked myself against it - felt very gung-ho.  Or, at least, I would have had the door budged at all.  Then Rebekka had another go and ended up kicking it - then it opened.  Having been told how awful it was, I was expecting something akin to a murder scene, but really, it was just a little room, nothing special, but nothing too awful.  Although, I'll admit that the stains on the sheets and pillow cases aren't that appealing, and the smell of the blanket is quite off-putting, and the towels feel almost slimey.  It's a puney little room, and I have a trundel on the floor, which takes up most of the floor-space.  There is one desk for two of us, and no toilet paper.  That in mind, and my suitcase allayed, we took our map on a walk through La Rochelle - about a 30 minute walk too! - to the supermarket. 

"Lundi 1re Septembre 'Champion' serra fermé pour inventorie".  So we walked all the way back.   We found a little pizza shop just near us so bought some pizza for tea, and a giant bottle of water, and a tiny tub of 'Tom and Jerry's' "Chunky Monkey" ice cream: banana flvoured ice cream with choclate chunks and walnuts.  (I was actually too full to eat it at the time, so brought i back and put it in the freezer. I have just gotten it out to eat it and am thinking that maybe the freezer isn't actually very good at freezing... Mmm, sloshy ice cream).

Moi et mon glace

We then came back home, happy, happy, but severely lacking in the papier de toilette department.  So I have taken my little packet of tissues out of my hand bag and cut each one in half.  There were only 4 tissue left... so here's hoping.

(Oh, wow - the chocolate chunks are banana shaped! I'll take a photo for you =P ).

The evening has, in fact, been lovely.  I managed to finally say something sensible in french - I ordered my pizza.  And Rebekka and I have had a lovely time sitting one our room's sole redeeming feature: the balcony.  We are te only people in the whole building to have one.  Only bad thing is it faces away from the water, not towards it.  But lucky us, hey?

And I am totally loving this whole having-the-internet-at-my-fingertips thing.  Fantastic!

And i can almost drink this ice cream... mmmmmm....

Les banana chunks

Tomorrow will be a full-on day, no doubt, but a good one...


P.S. France is 1 hour ahead of England, which was 9 hours behind Australia.  So... does that make me 8 hours behind Australia now? Well.... it's 9:45pm here (and only just dark!)8:45pm in England, and 5.45am at home in Australia...  Figure that out.