I have been making the most of my last month here, that is for certain. Two weekends ago was arguably the best weekend I've had during my time here. On the Saturday I went to Avignon with the English ladies where we saw hundreds of shops, the Pope's old gaff, and half a bridge (left). I was more interested in the Edith Piaf wannabe (below) who serenaded us while we dined on some of the finest duck I have ever eaten.
The weather was amazing; bright blues skies and beaming sun. I felt like I was getting my money's worth from my overpriced shades.
That evening, despite being worn out from the hard tourist lifestyle, we soldiered on and went out into Narbonne town. Woo. I drank too much and remember little, but I know I had toast when I got home and that makes it a top night by anyone's standards.
The next day we went to Port-la-Nouvelle beach where I dug a pitifully small hole whilst wearing my new and amazing t-shirt!
The week that followed was a standard week at work with the kids ranging from beyond irritating to unintentionally hilarious. I spoke to the headmaster who said he would arrange something in the staff room before I leave, which was nice. I also received a thank you card from one of my classes. Ironically it was the one class I detest and that I will be glad to see the back of, but still it was a nice gesture.
Also last week, the first of the assistants, Anne, left Narbonne! I cannot tell you how weird it felt to be saying goodbye to someone here when it feels like only last week I was saying goodbye to friends in Exeter and Salisbury. We went to a few bars, drank a few beers and danced to songs I would never dream of dancing to if I were in England. I guess you have to adapt to survive.
On Monday I went to Perpignan with Marisa. I had already been but that does not mean I could find my way to any of the sites. After much walking and venturing to closed tourist information centres, we eventually managed to find our way to the Palais des Rois de Majorque which overlooks the lovely mountains. There was a plague of English people, drinking pints and talking loudly as we do. After a man went into the bakery and asked for everything completely in English, without even stretching himself to say 'merci' or 's'il vous plait', I was temporarily embarrassed to be English. Then I realised how awesome us English people are and I didn't feel so bad anymore.
Today was a big day for me because I finally did what I have wanted to do for a while now. It took me months to decide what to get, but after deciding it only took two days to go through with it. So, me and Marisa investigated Narbonne in search of the best place and I explained what I wanted. An hour later I was laying on his chair-type thing with a needle pumping ink into my skin. Fifteen minutes after that, he said "bienvenue au club" and I finally had my tattoo.
I have twenty days left in the South of France and I refuse to let them pass without providing me with even more of those annoying stories that start with, "This one time, on my year abroad..."
Well, better that than, "This one time, when I was wasted..." I guess.
DC
Also last week, the first of the assistants, Anne, left Narbonne! I cannot tell you how weird it felt to be saying goodbye to someone here when it feels like only last week I was saying goodbye to friends in Exeter and Salisbury. We went to a few bars, drank a few beers and danced to songs I would never dream of dancing to if I were in England. I guess you have to adapt to survive.
Today was a big day for me because I finally did what I have wanted to do for a while now. It took me months to decide what to get, but after deciding it only took two days to go through with it. So, me and Marisa investigated Narbonne in search of the best place and I explained what I wanted. An hour later I was laying on his chair-type thing with a needle pumping ink into my skin. Fifteen minutes after that, he said "bienvenue au club" and I finally had my tattoo.
I have twenty days left in the South of France and I refuse to let them pass without providing me with even more of those annoying stories that start with, "This one time, on my year abroad..."
Well, better that than, "This one time, when I was wasted..." I guess.
DC
No comments:
Post a Comment