Annecy

Though money-wise and time-wise it wasn't my best idea to go to Annecy the weekend after I finished, it also turned out to be one of the best weekends I've had this year. Annecy is a small French town in the alps near Geneva, and famous for the beautiful Lake Annecy, which is (I believe) the third biggest lake in France, and did not disappoint on any level.

It took me four hours to get there from Avignon, and I arrived on Friday lunchtime, met by Paige's friends Adam and Jenny. It was raining so we did some cafe hopping, some shopping and then settled down in a little wine cave with a bottle of red wine to wait for Paige to finish work.

my first view of Annecy

After two glasses of red wine, coupled with the four hours sleep I had managed the night before I was fairly dead on my feet by the time we made it back to Paige's apartment but we had a quick turn around and got showered and ready for a night out at the opening night of Pop-Plage, one of the only clubs in Annecy which was right on the edge of the lake. It was 11 by the time we made it to another girls apartment for predrinks, and 2 by the time we had walked all the way to the club. We left at half 4 and made it back to Paige's at half 5, where we fell into bed and slept until 11 the next day. 

Saturday the weather dawned a little grey but with the promise of some blue skies coming through, so we had a late balcony breakfast, and wandered off into the town to wander through the beautiful old town of Annecy. It was one of the most beautiful French towns I've seen, with much alpine influence, and the view of the snow capped alps that surround it. It was stunningly well kept and landscaped with some of the most amazing public flower beds I've ever seen. 

We took a boat trip in the afternoon, as the sun started to come out for us, round lake Annecy, and learnt a little about the lake- that it can get down to two degrees in winter and never freezes, yet up to 25 in summer. The water is so clear and crystal blue it is a swimmers paradise. But it was cold on the lake so a chocolate crepe was absolutely necessary to warm up before we walked back to Paige's apartment. A leisurely tea finished around half nine and our intention was to get changed and go back out for a drink or two but somehow we ended up in our pyjamas, in bed, fast asleep.

Sunday- my last day- and Easter Sunday- we picked up an array of eggs, cheese, bread and pastry at the market and set off walking round the lake to meet my friend Emily, from York, who is also working in Annecy this year. She lives and works on the other side of the lake, in the posh bit, and her apartment has a balcony with a lake view so it was a perfect spot to lay out our spoils, make cups of tea and have a slow breakfast of eggs and soldiers, reblohon and bread, pain au chocolat, pain aux raisin, croissants and je ne sais quoi. We ended up sitting on the balcony from 11 that morning until 7 in the evening, only moving to get more blankets and tea, and then Paige and I set off back to the main town. There we stopped for some wine and beer and then wandered back to hers to fall into bed before another early start for my train the next day. 

It was a lovely weekend and such a good celebration of the end of this experience, I couldn't have asked for a better way or a better place in which to spend it.

La Fin

Seven months later I have finished the job I came out here to do. The weather is pretty much as it was in September- blue skies and sunny days though not much chance of lasting through the Easter break. This isn't great news for my soon to be arriving guests, so fingers crossed a bad Easter weekend will give way to more Provencal sunshine.

Today I walked back from school for the very last time. I took lots of photos over the week of my children, but obviously can't post these online so I took some photos of the various posters and cards that I was given over the week, that hopefully prove the children didn't find my presence too offensive (not including my 8am Thursday class who have been a nightmare of epic proportions). In fact, today, I was very surprised and touched by the reaction of the students to my last day. We had hugs and 'bises' (kisses) all around, with some of the children coming back for two, three or four bises. My favourite class presented me with all the posters they had prepared, and a beautiful bunch of lilacs. The girls were in tears when I left, and made me promise to come back and see them next year.

'I loved doing English with you,'

'Thank you for everything, good luck for the furture'

'Bon voyage and thank you for everything'

'Thank you for teaching us lots of English words. I hope we helped you.'

'Thank you for everything my favourite teacher, I love you'

'Thank you, we will miss you,'

'Thank you for everything you've taught us'

'Thank you for teaching us a beautiful language'

So it seems I have survived this experience as an assistant, and there doesn't seem to be quite the words to sum up what an experience it's been. It has been without a doubt one of the most challenging things I have ever done in my life, but also one of the most rewarding. There were many rainy days of November and February that I really had to dig deep to find the strength to face another class who didn't want to learn English, and the teachers who didn't seem to want to speak to me. There was plenty of blindingly obvious language mistakes and miscommunications, but I learnt to never let it get to me, and to never let it stop me trying to communicate. (And to laugh at myself, frequently).

I feel mostly grateful for having had such an opportunity available to me. At the beginning I couldn't have felt more outside my comfort zone, and when I pushed the gate to the school open to leave this afternoon, I could remember all too well my hammering heart when I opened it on my very first day. It's been (at the risk of sounding clichéd) one hell of a rollercoaster, but 'sans doute' from the good days to the bad days, this has been an experience I will never forget.

Cassis

This weekend we found a little spot of heaven in Cassis. Cassis is on the Riviera- just 20 minutes east of Marseille and beaucoup beaucoup more pretty. It's famous for its calanques and though I have yet to discover exactly what calanques are (apart from impressive formations of rock) we went to Cassis for its beach. Back in February after a rainy weekend in the apartment in Apt, Alison, Becca and I booked a hostel in Cassis to celebrate our last weekend together before the assistantship would be over. Back then when it was cold and grey and the prospect of four more months teaching hung over us it was hard to imagine this day coming, but it did and it was a weekend of very well deserved celebrations on all of our parts. 

On arrival we ditched our bags at the hostel (unbelievably excited to see our little infinity pool) and headed straight down the hill to the beach. With us we had Fran, Alison's roommate and two of Beccas American friends, and a very pleasant afternoon was spent sunbathing on the beach. Around 5 the other girls left, and more than a little red Becca Alison and I headed back up to the hostel to cool down in the pool and enjoy another couple of hours of sunshine. 

Our grand plan was to have a beach picnic, so we picked up some of our favourites at the mini casino (and paid through the nose for the privilege) got a bottle of red and a bottle of white, two baguettes (when in France...) cheese, ham, salami, olives, tapenade, tomatoes and various other bits and bobs. The beach was beautiful in the last bit of the evening sun and we laid out our spoils and cracked open the wine. 

No sooner had the first sip been sup (?!) and the first baguette been broken a rather dubious looking French/Moroccan man made his way over to us. 'Ahh les filles, les filles, vous etes francaises?' Recognising trouble we said no, in English, we don't understand you. This seemed to throw him. He continued a little falteringly in French. We repeated several times we don't understand you. He was requesting to sit and ha a drink with us. We kept shaking our head, and turning our back giving him clear signals. After a while he sat down in the sand next to us, and his friend who had initially kept his distance came over to join. A little concerned, because of us, two men who weren't taking no for an answer, and a deserted beach, we gathered up our picnic, and hastily left our lovely spot, with them calling out after us 'ahh les filles, attendez!' (Wait). I was initially furious that our lovely, much awaited, much anticipated and deserved, beach dinner had been spoilt by two ignorant idiots who couldn't have the simple respect to realise we didn't want them there for a second (you can see how annoyed I was) but we wandered back to the main port, which was still very pretty in the evening light, with all the boats reflecting in the water, and we spread our blanket along the front and sat down there. Safer amongst the buzz of people in the restaurants around, we had a lovely picnic and a lovely chat about the highs and lows of our seven months together. A little later we packed up and headed back up to the hostel, to sit on the terrace and have a cup of tea. 

When we woke up the next day breakfast was served out on the terrace again, baguettes, jam, butter, tea and coffee and we spent a happy hour out there before we got too hot and reclaimed our deck chairs by the pool. It was a blissfully lazy morning only marred by the fact we had to pack up and leave at 1. 

I can only end this blog by saying what a pleasure it has been to have had Alison and Becca alongside me this year. We have shared all our misfortunes, embarrassing French errors, frustrations and stories with each other. They've both been there to give me some encouragement on a low day, sympathise with me, laugh with me and support me and between the three of us there is an understanding of the journey each of us have been on this year. In Avignon we said bye to Alison for the last time this year in France- doubtfully the last time for me but possibly for Becca. And then it was time to get the last bus and we to Apt in time for tea, and Monday morning, the very last Monday morning of our working week in Apt.

If this sounds a bit emotional, I really am very pleased it's the last week of work. My patience with French children has been spread a little thin but with the prospect of Easter games and chocolate crispie cakes I think I can bribe them sufficiently to behave this week. But it will be strange to walk out of the classroom for the last time here, knowing that's a chapter of my life, once so daunting and unimaginable, that will be closed.

Beau temps

At the moment everything is blooming. In the space of roughly a week everything has turned bright green, pink and white, the sky is deliciously blue and Becca and my spirits are high because school's nearly over.

Of course there will be some things I will miss. This week the old assistant Cecelia, who did my job last year, came to visit us, all the way from Boston. On Monday we went to school together. My Monday kids and I are beginning to get a better understanding and things have been running more smoothly. They were all very happy to say hello to Cecelia, though it thoroughly threw them to see us together and despite us being about a foot apart in height and totally different in appearance many asked if she was my sister. Likewise when I explained to one of the classes that Cecilia came from America and I come from England, one of the girls piped up, 'ah, she lives in Africa!'. Some things really are just too difficult.

However, when I left each class I explained, next week will be my last week, the reaction on Monday was generally disappointment. My first class were mildly disappointed and one girl offered kindly that I could come and live with her in France. The second class more so and prompted one of the boys to howl, I want you to stay with me, which was met with paralytic laughter. And finally my little class were outraged and when they went out to play and I followed into the playground two of the girls came up and wrapped their arms round me and said very solemnly, 'Amy, tu va nous manques' (the very awkward french translation of 'we will miss you,' literally, 'you are going to miss us').

Sunday night Cece, Becca and I went out for dinner and had tapas at a new restaurant in town. It wasn't bad, there were some dodgy mussels, and a poor selection of bread, but some delicious cheese and honey parcels, meatballs and fried calamari, all washed down with a jug of sangria. We had a very friendly waiter who spoke some english with us, and one of my old teachers arrived later, came and sat next to us, and scolded me for speaking in french ('you are here to learn french, you should be speaking in french!' all in good humour of course). Cece treated us to the meal which was really very kind of her, and it was a nice memorable evening to spend in Apt, eating outside, before we shortly leave.

Tuesday was good also. I did feelings with my children, 'I am afraid, I am fed up...' and again told them I would be leaving the next week so we could play games. Again they seemed disappointed, especially my favourite little ones, and my teachers pet, Alba, who said 'Amy, est-qu'on peut faire un bingo?' (I played bingo with them the first or second week I was there, and she has asked every single week if we can play bingo since. I promised next week would be the week.) 

The weather remains beautiful, and I'm hoping it will last for Mum, Dad and Kate who arrive in two weeks. Until then, à la prochaine fois!

Aix-cetera

This weekend was the last weekend of relative free time...from today it doesn't really stop until the end. Friday, Alison and I went to Orange, hired bikes, and did a 30km bike ride round Chateauneuf du Pape. It was a pretty route through vineyards and the sun shone for us, but unfortunately the Mistral got up in full force and at some points it was like cycling through treacle it was that hard. In the evening I got back to Apt at 10.30, wind and sun blasted and fell straight asleep only to be woken by my alarm signalling the start of another busy day. 

the mountain behind in the legendary Mont Ventoux

I got showered and dressed quickly and set off to the market which was bustling with people- miles more than in March, and the whole Place opposite the school was filled with flowers, fruit and veg, cheese, hummus, baskets and other Provencal goodies. I just went to the fruit and veg stall and bought my veg for the week, plus asparagus and strawberries, and was given more spinach than I'll ever be able to eat by the vendor because I am so 'charmante.' After that, a quick dash to the supermarket and then back to my apartment to unpack everything and then pack my bag for a weekend with Juliane. It was already 9.30 and 19 degrees. 

Jean Philippe and Sylviane picked me up at 10 and took me to Juliane's. Juliane and I had planned a last weekend together before I go home. On arrival Juliane was still at work so I ate lunch with Emmanuel, Emmanuelle, Gaëlle and 'grand-père'; a huge platter of cured meats, salad, cheese, quiche, strawberries, lemon cake etc (plus we had martinis to go with..don't ask me why). We ate in the garden and the sun was hot, and then Emmanuel, Emmanuelle and I went together into Aix to meet up with Jean-Philippe and Sylviane, their son Xavier, his wife Helene, and their two little boys Martin and Remy. Then we all went back to a friend of Sylviane's for coffee and madeleines and je ne sais quoi. The apartment was a beautiful Aixois apartment, with cool tiled floors and a balcony dripping in flowers. I tried a bit of practising talking to the boys, but unfortunately picked the little one, Remy, who is a bit suspicious of all people except his mother and father. I asked him how old he was and he glowered at me through thick eyebrows before showing me four fingers. His mum asked him how old he thought I was. He considered briefly without much change in expression. 'Eleven?'

Aix- just another beautiful spot

Around six we got back in the car to head back to Juliane's and to pick up Gaëlle from her friends. No sooner had we knocked on the door of her friends, the mother was at the door, ushering us in, gesturing at the sun, suggesting an aperitif in the garden. And soon we had wine, and bruschetta and tapenade pushed in our hands, and we spent another hour and a half there. They were very interesting in me, 'la jeune fille anglaise' and asked lots of questions about my experience here. I got three glasses of wine poured for me, despite my protests, ('have you ever had this wine before?- then, you must try it!').

I was feeling a bit sleepy by the time we got back to Juliane's and we had a delicious dinner together, (I definitely just had water this time), and then we played articulate in French. (NOT easy). I learnt the words for lawnmower, hay, straw, road sign, and silver birch, which I perhaps won't use again but it was a good test of vocab nonetheless. After that it just about acceptable to retire to bed, my head spinning!

Sunday Juliane had the full day off. We had homemade croissants for breakfast, and then Juliane, Emmanuelle, Gaëlle and I set off down to the village for the annual 'Fête de la Chevre' (goat festival). Not quite up my street as it was basically a very large market of goats cheese, goats cheese tart, goats cheese sandwiches, goats cheese cake, etc etc but the village itself was very pretty and teeming with lots of people who we had to stop and give the obligatory three kisses, which passed the morning quite amicably. 

Rognes- the village where Juliane lives- so Provence

Then back to Juliane's for lunch (goats cheese and courgette tart....I ate every mouthful Mum) and in the afternoon Juliane and I went into Aix for a drink, and a 'chausson aux pommes' (apple pastry because I haven't yet tried one and apparently I HAD to try one) and then 'une glâce' and then we sat in the park for a while and chatted and enjoyed the sun. By the time we got back we were both bronzed (rouged on my side) and tired. Jean Phillippe and Sylviane had arrived, and before long grand-père did too, and we had champagne to start with. We had another large, delicious meal, and then Gaëlle (14) proposed a toast, to me. 

Jean Phillipe and grand-pere

She said what a lovely time they'd had with me three weekends ago in Montpellier, and again this weekend, and how sad they were to see me leave, and that she wished I could come with them 'to the mountains' this holiday. This almost made me tear up, and later when I got my things together and had to say goodbye to a family that have shown me such kindness in the last few months, I cried. I was very lucky to meet them, and they've taken me under their wing as one of their own, such utterly friendly and welcoming people that are rare to find. This, for me, as the experience begins to draw to a close, has been the highlight of a tough seven months in France- the generosity and hospitality and true kindness of the families I've been lucky enough to meet.

les TRACOLs- from the left, Juliane, grandpere, Emmanuel, Emmanuelle, Sylviane, Jean Philippe and Gaelle