Come so far. Reached so high. Looked each day & night in the eye.

I have not written a blog post for a long time and this time I have a reason that does not involve laziness or lack of internet.

Quite simply, I no longer feel like I am on an adventure or having lots of new experiences that I feel I need to log (or brag about). Instead, I have settled in to life here. It has taken five months, but Narbonne has become my third home (Salisbury and Exeter being the other two, of course).

So, when I booked my one-way flight from Toulouse to Bristol today, I felt slightly saddened. Don’t get me wrong, I am looking forward to going back to England, but I feel I could definitely stay here longer. As long as I did not have to work. Teaching French teenagers is something I could never miss. I will miss, however, some of the teachers, getting paid a lot of money for little work, and having a work routine. It is as if I will be regressing when I return to university: having gone from studying to working and finally back to studying.

I have been quite busy here in the South of France. I meet up with the other assistants a few times a week, enjoying the sunshine, hanging out, speaking a variety of languages. My French continues to improve and comes more naturally now, but that does not stop me from making mistakes that are apparently funny to other people. I just avoid saying ‘beaucoup’ where possible to avoid accidentally telling people they have a beautiful arse.

The pupils have been the same as ever. Last week, the music teacher intervened in a fight between two girls, one of which then hit the teacher in the eye. The girls got excluded for three days. This week, a boy held out his fist, threatening to punch one of his classmates. He was excluded for a week. I cannot help but feel that discipline here is not the best in the world. In the last week I have also had to break up a fight and other teachers have had a variety of things happen in their classrooms. Teachers are at breaking point. Me, well, I’m just trying not to look too smug when listening to their stories, safe in the knowledge that I have just twenty-nine hours of teaching left.

Last weekend I went to Sète with Anne, Lauren, Marisa, and Trini. We also met Victor, Tatiana and a friend there. It is a nice town with a big canal (as if I haven’t seen a million canals since being here) and some lovely sights. We walked to the view point. It was ridiculous. We used every last ounce of energy we had after an afternoon of walking, and trekked up… hill after hill after staircase after hill. Upon reaching to the top, and unable to breathe, I was disappointed. Sure it was a nice day and the view (above left) was nice, but the juice was not worth the squeeze. Instead, we all laid down (below) and I got sunburnt.

That evening I went out with Lauren, Tara, Alice, Cyd and three of Cyd’s friends. Getting hyped was a challenge as my legs felt like they each weighed the same as Adele after a seven-course meal, holding her six Grammies, whining about love. After some drinks and a top-notch prelash, however, I was as pumped for Botafogo as it is possible to be. I know it was a good night because I do not remember all of it and I woke up feeling like death.

On Sunday my new housemate, Marine, arrived. I only met her for half an hour as Lucile picked me up to take me to Shit-gean, but she seemed cool. Last night we ate dinner together, chatted, and watched some Dr. House (which is the same as House, but dubbed over in annoying French voices). It was nice to finally have someone in the house who was neither a recluse nor a bagpipe wanker, and wanted to hang out for a bit.

The weather here has been incredible. Anyone who is in a sunny place for their year abroad will agree with my next point: whenever you talk to someone in England, they insist that the weather is amazing there too. They then refuse to believe that it might just be warmer and sunnier in the South of France than in England. It almost makes you regret being somewhere so nice when you could be at home, still enjoying the sunshine. Well here I am, putting into writing what we are all holding back when we speak to our loved ones back home: NNYYYAAAAGGHHHHH!

I am loving life here at the moment; I have met some awesome people and made some amazing friends from all over Europe (well, from about five countries in Europe). Six months ago I first saw my room in Sigean. Five months ago I almost gave up and wanted to book a one-way flight to England. Now, I have booked this one-way flight and my emotions are very mixed.

People tell you a year abroad is the best experience of your life.

I hate when other people are right.

Today I don't feel like doing anything

I wish I had a good reason why I have not posted on this for almost two weeks, but I haven't. In truth, I have had too much free time and have spent most of it either in bed, watching Friends, playing the guitar or Facebooking.

Last week was the first week back teaching after the school holidays. I expected it to be a lot more difficult than it was; I settled easily back into the routine and even enjoyed some lessons. Teaching the younger years has opened my eyes to the many advantages of teaching, but I still would never consider it as a career choice. Not enough money and too many kids. I taught the pupils how to speak about hobbies and activities they like doing. I gave the,a picture sheet of hobbies and objects you might use for these hobbies. A highlight was when a child wanted to express how people use goggles to go swimming but instead said 'I use a mask to go swinging'. Another was when a girl told me that over the holidays she did her granddad. I did not alert social services.

Other than my classes last week, I have had a very lazy couple of weeks in Narbonne. I met up with Marisa, Anne and Trini on Thursday for a coffee but it was so sunny and warm, we opted for an ice cream instead and sat by the canal. Later in the evening, we headed to l'Echoppe where I managed to drink two beers and go home, as I had to be up early for work the next morning. I never knew such will-power existed within me.

On Friday night the English girls and I went to a couple of bars. The most annoying thing about Narbonne is that there are no food places open late. There are no burger vans parked outside clubs, no 24 hour McDonalds, not even a pizza delivery service. The girls', however, had heard of a new delivery service to provide us with such greasy nourishment. I went back to theirs but this new business was too new: they had no food. There was a whole pasta incident and potatoes were flying everywhere. It was crazy.

The weekend drifted by and I left the house once, to watch a film at Marisa's. We watched 'The Tourist'. If you have not yet seen it, don't. While Johnny Depp is the amazing actor he always is, I did not know Angelina was playing an English character until she told me. Her bad English accent rivals that of Bridget Jones. Terrible. As for the plot, it was actually quite good. Until the end. At the end, you realise that there is no point to the film. You have, in a way, wasted an hour and a half of your life. But at least it got me out of the house.

I called in sick this week. I had no means of getting to Sigean on Sunday evening, and after the ever-failing French public transport system, I simply could not be bothered with the hassle. So, taking the easy option, I faked a cold. I did feel slightly guilty, but after a few days of doing nothing, I now feel great!

I left my bed three times on Tuesday; for food, to shower, and to go for dinner. I went with Marisa, Anne and two French teachers to a little restaurant that serves pizza on bruschetta. Or something like that. It was nice and chilled, and I spoke a bit of French. They played 'Someone Like You' around three times. The French love Adele. Sometimes I wish they would just take her.

Yesterday was the first time since being back that I did anything requiring energy. I went ice-skating with Cyd, Lauren and Manu. I have been before, years ago, but I do not remember it much. I would like to say that I stepped on the ice, kicked off and within no time at all I was going backwards and spinning and weaving in and out of people. But no. For the first long few minutes, I held on to the side and failed to understand how to make the skates work. Eventually, Lauren grabbed me and forced me to move away from the side. I tried to make myself go along, but I cannot lie: she was pulling me around. The main reason I was reluctant to try is that I was expecting to fall, as was everyone I had told I was going ice-skating. For a normal person, falling is slightly embarrassing but you just get back up and go. For me, the ground is a long way down and when I fall, I hurt. But, after a while, I manned up. By the time we were ready to leave I was skating around, away from the sides, having found, for the first time, my centre of gravity. I did not fall over once. Not because I have good balance, but because I wanted to prove a point.

All in all, I have not done much over the last two weeks. However, tomorrow I am going back to school and then I will start my work routine all over again. The worst thing about this week is the pitiful amount of French I have spoken. However, I can rest on the fact that I speak to teachers at my school so tomorrow I will ensure I spark up plenty of conversations. In the meantime, I have started listening to French music (yes, started. It is not usually very good, especially in comparison to Anglophone tunes). Someone recommended  Christophe Mae, so I listened to a few of his songs. About three of them are stuck in my head and I know the lyrics to not one. Instead, I mumble nasally, almost in tune.

The best thing that has happened since being back is that Jean-Baptiste, or Bagpipe Wanker as he is now known, moved out. He took his patronising language corrections and obnoxious Scottish instruments out of the house, and drove away. All the way to Lille. Me and Matthieu sighed a long sigh of relief and waved him a two-fingered goodbye. We are currently waiting for a new housemate, whom we are told is a girl. I am going to use this as an opportunity to feign confidence with my French and really try to tighten up my language over the next two months. I just hope she is not a recluse who spends her time on online computer games, shouting to other players through a microphone, like Matthieu does every evening until 3am.

Hopefully next time I write I will have done more with my life. I have around seven weeks remaining in this country and I know they are going to fly by. It feels as if I am waiting for it to end, and I guess I am in a way. I know I will miss it once I have left, but I will not miss it as much as I miss England right now. I am going to try and make the most of my time left here, even if it just means spending more time in the sun.

Not today, though. I have lessons to plan, a guitar to play, and people to stalk on Facebook.

DC