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.