The Last Week in France

I'm officially back in the United States, but before I get to all of my "let's recap the experience, here's what I learned" stuff, I wanted to quickly talk about my last week in France.

I got back to the North on Sunday, exactly one week before I would be on an airplane flying toward the States. Actually, my head was so entirely elsewhere that I accidentally got on the wrong train when I was in Lille changing trains. I guess it had to happen once during the year. Luckily, I was able to just get off at the first station and get back onto another train in the other direction. But, I was really stressed out. Anyway, it all turned out fine; I just got home an hour later than planned.

Monday was devoted to the "dress rehearsal" with my suitcases. I had already done a few rounds of sorting and tossing out, throwing all of the stuff haphazardly into the suitcase and weighing it, just to see where I was. This time, I actually packed all of my stuff into the bags as if I was going to leave in 30 minutes. And, I succeeded. I packed my whole room and all of my stuff into the one big and one small suitcase, and still have about a kilo of space to buy little souvenirs from the grocery store. (I'm thinking about getting a pack or two of my favorite cookies to bring home.) So, once all my stuff was completely the packed, the question was: Do I unpack it all, or do I wear the same outfit all week? I decided to leave the big suitcase packed and just live from my small suitcase, which has worked pretty well. That way, I only have the carry-on to pack tomorrow as I do my final sweep.

On Wednesday, I went to an amusement park, Parc Asterix(Based on the Asterix and Obelix comic strip) with my friend Pauline, her mom, her grandma, and her 11 year-old cousin. It was a ton of fun, and a great way to totally live in the moment and not be thinking about home, or about leaving. I felt like a ghost in the house at 7:00 am as I ate breakfast alone and got ready while everyone else slept. At 8:00am sharp, Pauline and her mom picked me, we got the others, and then headed off.

The entrance to the park.

The amusement park was close to Paris, so about 2 hours away. By 11:00am, we were getting onto our first ride: the brand new steel roller coaster with lots of loops and twists. It was based on the egyptian theme of one of the comic strips. The whole line was decorated, like at Disneyland, but we didn't have time to admire the decorations as we ran through the empty barriers. We only had to wait 10 minutes for an incredible ride.

This is me and Pauline in front of the roller coaster. The best part was when we were hurtling downward and thought we were going to hit the ground but it was actually a tunnel and they blew a ton of mist at us. You can see it right behind us. This was Pauline's favorite ride.

Overall, it was a really well-done amusement park. They had paid a lot of attention to detail, and everything was themed and decorated. It was fun going from ride to ride and looking at all of the shops and other parts of the experience, rather than just the rides.

Here's and example of the attention to detail. The dragon/boat is a restaurant!

This was in the middle of the park. On sunny days, there were paddle boats, but since we were there before summer break officially started, not everything was open yet. That roller coaster was also closed, unfortunately, but everyone says it is amazing.

We had fun taking silly pictures with all of the decorations.

 We went on some low key rides, like a tube slide, as well as all of those crazy roller coasters.

Pauline and I in the tube slide.

My favorite ride, by far, was Zeus's Thunder. It was an enormous wooden roller coaster, but it went insanely fast and threw us around bends. It also had a cool underground tunnel part. The car all the way to the top, and then we suddenly realized there was a whole second part to the coaster that you can't see from the ground. And then, it goes from the highest drop all the way to underground before shooting up again. It was incredible, one of the best roller coasters I have ever ridden. Pauline thought the egyptian themed one was better, but I preferred this one. We even went on it twice. Pauline said she had been to the park three of four times and that was the first time she went on it, because before, it had either been closed or the line too long.

Zeus was looking down, guarding the entrance to the line. He was intimidating until you walked underneath and saw his cute, flowery underwear  :)

There was also a dolphin show. I have to say, it was probably one of the, if not the, best dolphin shows I have ever seen. It topped Marine World and Sea World easily. They had 10 dolphins and three trainers that swam with them. It was incredible. They did all kinds of tricks I had never seen before, and the trainers interacted a lot more with the dolphins than in other shows I had seen.

5 dolphins jumping at the same time while others swim around and rest a bit. The joys of having 10 show dolphins.

This was my favorite trick. The three trainers made a circle putting their arms to toes and the dolphins swam under and then jumped out of the center of the circle. It was so cool.

In the afternoon, we had to deal with a few thunderstorms and lightning bolts, but everything eventually reopened again. The park closed at 6:00pm and we headed home. I spent that night with Pauline. On the way home, we bought pizzas from a pizza truck for dinner. And for dessert, I ate more raspberries in a single evening than ever before in my life. Why? Thanks to Pauline's family's amazing garden. The garden was here mom's pride and joy, and she had even won a prize last year.  They had tons of different plants and flowers. It was really one of the most amazing gardens I had ever seen. There were 2 different kinds of raspberries growing all over the place, a cherry tree, strawberries, gooseberries, lemon bushes, and tons of flowers. There was a vegetable garden and a huge lawn. The raspberries were perfectly ripe and they told me I could take as many as I wanted, that they always had too much. So, I picked and ate to my heart's content, and then did it all again for breakfast. It was incredible. I even picked some extras and (with difficulty) refrained from eating them all to take to my host family.

I love berry picking. Nothing is better than a kiwi and raspberry salad for breakfast when the raspberries were picked 30 seconds before.

On Thursday, I had a chill day with not much action except making gaufrettes(thin waffle cookies, like what waffle cones are made out of.) They were really yummy, but I think I would add some vanilla extract next time. 

Friday was a day of good-byes. I went back to my school one last time to return my textbooks and saw some friends. We went for a walk and I hugged them good-bye. Then, in the afternoon, I went to the movies with Pauline. We went to see Ice Age 4 in 3D. It's funny. In this year, I have been to the movies more times than in the last four or five years back home. I went to see Bienvenue à Bord, Hollywoo, Intouchables, Hugo Cabret, Star Wars 3D, Ice Age 4 3D, Lion King 3D, and Titanic 3D. At the end of the movie, when we said good-bye, Pauline was on the verge of tears. I know I'm really going to miss her and everything she did for me this year. I still remember dissecting a rat with her on just the second day of school, and it feels like just a few months ago. And there we were, hugging good-bye in front of a movie theater. I just can't believe this adventure in France has come to an end.

On Saturday morning, I said goodbye to my host family in front of their house, and then rode with another AFSer and her host mom to the train station where we would meet the other girls in our region and take the train to Paris. It was a really emotional time for a lot of people as they hung out the train windows to wave to their host families, and quite a few were crying.

Here's the whole group of AFSers, host families, and volunteers in front of the station.

We got to Paris around 12:30 and then waited around for the bus to take us to the hotel. Once at the hotel, we found the 230 other AFS kids all coming back, got out hotel rooms, and then had "debriefing activities." I don't know what those were like in the other groups, but in my group, we didn't do much except just talk about random stuff. We ate dinner together one last time, said our goodbyes, watched 2 short films about AFS, and then were dismissed by airplane to go to bed.

Sunday morning, I got up with my roommates and 6:40am, took quick showers, and then went down for breakfast. While dinner the night before had been rather unsatisfactory, breakfast was AMAZING. We got to eat in the hotel restaurant, and it was a buffet type of thing. The chocolate croissants were literally too hot to hold as they came right out of the over, and they just melted in your mouth. At 7:40, we met as our group of 25 and walked through the hotel and into CDG airport. Why only 25, when there were like 40 Americans in France? The others got to take a direct fight to JFK from Paris, and we had to pass through Zurich, meaning that even though their plane took off a few hours later than ours, they got in sooner. Anyway, checking bags was madness, because as to be expected, many people did not follow guidelines for weight, and were frantically having to repack. My suitcases passed with no problems, so I just got to sit back and watch the others struggle. Once through check-in, we were on our own to get through security and find our gate. We were sort of stressed about making it on time since the AFS volunteers had held us back because someone had been caught with vodka, but it ended up not mattering because our plane was delayed.

This was where things got really interesting. Our plane was supposed to leave at 1100 and get in at 1215, and then our next plane was at 100. Well, our plane didn't end up pulling out of the gate until after 1200, so we spent the whole ride stressing about if we would miss our connection. Luckily, the held it for us, and we literally ran through Zurich airport with our carry-on bags. And it wasn't just one gate to the next one over. We had to take the little tram thing to change sections and pass through a passport checkpoint and everything. I ended up feeling kind of bad for the swiss boy on the plane next to me since I was a little sweaty from the run. The swiss air personnel were funny. They knew we were coming, and sort of lined the pathway from one escalator to our gate, pointing the way and telling us to calm down. It was ironic that we ran and everything to get onto the plane, and once we were all settled, the flight attendant got on the P.A. and said, "While the passengers have indeed finally arrived, we are still waiting for their luggage to be transferred, so it will still be about 20 minutes."

The flight to JFK was nice, just like our flight going to France back in September. We got pasta or chicken for lunch, and then a pizza stick and ice cream for "dinner" about an hour before landing. We got in around 4:30 pm New York time, and then followed the crowd through immigration control. The officer checking our passports was actually funny and friendly, and sort of carried on a conversation with us as we went through. We knew we were back in America when a lady dropped something and the man next to her said "Yo, miss, ya' dropped somethin'" instead of what we would have been used to in France, a very polite "Excusez-moi madame, mais je crois que vous avez perdu quelque chose"(Excuse me Ma'am, but I believe you have dropped something) At baggage claim, my bag was one of the first to come out, so after just a little longer, I found another girl who was also ready to go and we breezed right through customs. There were 2 AFS volunteers waiting for us with instructions on what to do next, but mine was easy. I found my mom waiting in the crowd of people right after customs, took my letter from the AFS folks, said "That's my mom," and then ran around the barrier to give her a big hug.

At that point, I finally felt like I was back in America, and back home, even though I was in New York and not California.

A Week in Lyon

Wow, in less than a week I will be on an airplane flying toward American soil. While I can't honestly deny that I'm glad to be on the final stretch, I am still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that it is all coming to an end. I will be glad to see my friends and family back home, but there is so much here that I will miss so much. My host family, my friends, my amazing and helpful teachers... I think we can all agree on one thing: 10 months is a long time. I am so incredibly grateful for this adventure and all of the great experiences I got to have, but 10 months is pretty long. Rather than dying to go home, I'm just happy to be concluding what I would call a really successful year abroad.  I did completely pack up everything in my room into my suitcases and weigh it, and I'm happy to report that I got everything to fit with 1 kilo to spare in my big suitcase, in case something comes up. So, that did help me realize that I will soon actually be flying home. You know, seeing the room with everything sorted and packed was just kind of a weird feeling. But then I unpacked most of it(since I can't really justify wearing the same outfit for this whole last week just because I'm too lazy to repack) and I settled back into the feeling that it was "my" room, even if only for a few more days. Anyway, enough about these thoughts of leaving. Let's first talk about my great week last week in Lyon.

When I last posted, I believe I was headed toward the train station to go to Lyon. Except for the train company messing up and giving two people the exact same seat(but since I got there first and had the ticket to prove that it was my seat, so I got to stay) my train ride was nice as I got a last look at Marseille before heading northward. There is a joke that the people in Marseille consider Lyon to be "The North" and anything further north than that is just ridiculously north. In the movie "Bienvenue Chez le Cht'is" which pokes fun at the north(the north north, like Valenciennes where I live) and shows all of the stereotypes, the main charecter lives in the south, near the sea, and is told he will have to work in the north. And he says "Lyon?" and the boss says "No, the North," and he says "Oh no, not Paris, not Paris, please." And the boss says "No, not Paris, further North." And the character says "Wait, there's like nothing else except Belgium then." Anyway, I was just laughing because my host in Marseille had often said a lot of those things about the north like had been in the film, and she said she hoped it wouldn't be too cold in the Lyon, so much further north.

When I arrived in Lyon, it was nice and sunny and warm, while it was apparently still pouring in the real North. My host mom's mother met me at the train station, and we headed off to her home. Even in that first car ride, I got to see a fair amount of Lyon as we went from downtown to the suburbs, crossing both the Rhône and the Saône rivers.

This is the Rhône, one of the two rivers that runs through Lyon. When the rivers were the primary mode of transport, this river would constantly been very busy. Now, with the trains having taken over, the only traffic on the river was tourist sight-seeing boats. Other boats, like the little barges you see in the photo, have been transformed into cafés with tables both on the stationary boat and on land right next to it.

In general, our days passed in this manner. In the morning, after leisurely breakfast, we would go out and run errands. We went grocery shopping, went to the apple store, went to the super fancy butcher's shop, went to the market, ect. It was actually really fun doing the errands because I got to see the city and just hang out with my host grandma. She really treated me like a grandkid. We would come back for lunch, and then in the afternoons, we would head out to do touristy things. Once we got back, after a quick snack, I would go swimming in the apartment complex's pool. Then it was time for dinner, then the news, and then a movie or show on TV. We watched a documentary about the Age of Reason, an American movie called "An Unfinished Life," and I watched the Italy-Germany soccer game.

So, the first afternoon, we did the more modern Lyon, the part in between the two rivers, called the Presqu'île(almost island,) on foot. My host grandma knew all about a lot of the buildings and who the artists were and the symbols, so she gave me a guided tour, which was super interesting. I learned so much more than I could have had I just gone wandering on my own. 

This is the "Hotel de Ville"(City hall) of Lyon.

The next day, we wandered through the old Lyon. Lyon was a city even before the age of the Romans, so there were some really interesting things to see.

This is a clock in one of the cathedrals we visited. It dates as far back as 1383 and still gives the right hour today, although the mechanisms have been repaired over the years. The top clock face in front gives the hour, the day of the month, the month(in roman names), and the position of Lyon in relation to the constellations. The bottom clock face in front is currently programmed until 2019 and gives the dates of the national holidays(the roman holidays.) The clock face on the right side counts from 1-60 and gives the minute. Every hour, the clock chimes and the figurines at the top move, with a rooster crowing, an angel coming to announce to Mary that she will give birth to the savior, and some other actions. We went to the cathedral the first time on Tuesday, and after a week of trying, we finally made it to watch it chime on Saturday afternoon.

One of the coolest things in the old Lyon were the traboules. These were passages built through building that allowed pedestrians to go from one street to another in going right "through" the building. Back in the old days, it allowed people to get to the river to get water to bring home quicker than if they had to go around a lot of the buildings instead of through. I liked to think of them as "freeways for pedestrians." The people living in the apartments now have allowed the traboules to remain open to the public as a historical monument, so we had to be quiet. But I could imagine, in the days when everyone was using them, those must have been very noisy passages.

The door leading into a very long traboule.

Inside a traboule. There were doors and staircases leading to apartments all along the traboule.

Another afternoon was devoted to visiting the basilique of Fourvière, which sits on a high hill and looks over Lyon. 

Here's a view of the basilisque de Fourvière from just above the river. The church looks over the city, just like Notre Dame de la Garde in Marseilles.

This is the view from the basilisque de Fourvière. You could see the whole city of Lyon, including both of the rivers. It was really funny for me because we were there at the same time as a tour of little English ladies. They were all taking photos together and listening to the guide, making commentaries on the French people in their cute English accents. I loved being able to listen to all of them without them knowing I understood.

Here's the view of Lyon from up high. The first river is the Saône, and the one in the background(you can tell by the line of green bushes) is the Rhône. The space in between is called the Presqu'île, or the "almost island." The runny redish tower you can see in the background is nicknamed "le crayon" because it looks a bit like a pencil.

We also went to see some of the murals in the city.

This is one of the biggest murals in the city. On a fair number of once ugly and plain walls, the city painted murals to brighten up the city. This one shows a lot of different famous icons of Lyon all together, as if they all lived at the same time and really could have chatted together as one went out to do his shopping and another came in from a day of work.

These are the "frères lumières" who invented the movies.

Paul Bocuse is the chef in the doorway, a famous Lyonnais with restaurants all over the world.

One afternoon, we drove through parts of the Beaujolais. The Beaujolais is an area that spans a section of two of France's regions: Rhône-Alpes(which Lyon is in) and Bourgogne. It was really beautiful, and really peaceful to drive along the roads and through the calm villages. The southern part of the Beaujolais is called the 'Pierres Dorées' which means golden stones. It is because many of the houses and even entire villages were built completely out of these yellow bricks, the 'golden stones.' Apparently, you can only find the yellow bricks in this area.

This was wine country but not on a large scale. It was lots of little plots of vineyards, rather than the huge, sweeping vineyards you would find a bit further north in the region of Bourgogne, or near Bordeaux.

The villages in the Pierres Dorées were really calm, since they were nestled in the middle of the countryside. But, there were still some fun signs of life. In one little village, there was a tiny market with just three stands: 2 cheese stands and a produce stand. Since these were the direct farmers, the prices were super cheap. We bought amazing cherries, raspberries, and  peaches for so much less than if we had gotten them at one of the big markets in Lyon.

In the Pierres Dorées(Golden Stones) section of the Beaujolais, entire villages, including the churches and even the castles were all built out of the golden bricks.

We went to visit several medieval castles while in the Beaujolais. The majority had been bought by rich English businessmen and turned into luxury hotels. We weren't even allowed to come inside the outer wall of one of the hotels. But in others, we could walk through the garden and admire the plants.

This is a "jardin à la française," a garden in one of the three medieval castles we visited in the Beaujolais. The garden was a group of footpaths that all came together at the statue behind me, as well as a few that went around the perimeter. The paths were lined with little bushes and flowers. The tall bushed, carved into shapes, are called topiaires and were all over the garden.

And finally, you know it comes up in every post: food. I got a few special treats while in Lyon.

A "choco framboise" from the local bakery. It was a thin layer of light and fluffy spongecake, topped with a layer of raspberry filling, topped with a bunch of chocolate mousse, completely covered with a thin chocolate ganache, and garnished with a raspberyy and 3 mini raspberry macaron halves. It was definitely a special treat.

Praline brioche, a specialty in Lyon. During the week, we tried them from 2 different bakeries, and this one was the winner. The brioche was light and fluffy and the nuts were yummy and sugared and spread throughout. I might try to bake this once I get home.

So, that's it. I think this will be my final post before heading back toward America. For anyone wondering how the journey homeward is planned:
I meet up with the other AFSers in my region on Saturday morning at the train station. We take the train to Paris together, where we will be met by AFS volunteers and driven to the hotel where we will spend the night with the 300+ other kids all heading home. We will do debriefing activities in the afternoon, hang out and party at night, then head to the airport Sunday morning to catch our flights. I hope you all have enjoyed reading my blog throughout the year, and I'll be sure to post an update once I touch down in the U.S.A.

A Week Under Marseille's Sun

Back in February or March, I started looking at my calendar and realized that once classes finished, I was going to have about 3.5 weeks in France before coming home. Knowing that I had decided not to take the bac but that my host siblings and friends would be reviewing for and then taking it, I was worried that I would end up bored and waste my last few weeks in France. So, I decided to take advantage of an opportunity offered by AFS in France: spending a week with another AFS family in a different region. After a little bit of research, I decided to ask to spend some time in Marseille, the region of Provence-Alpes-Côte D'Azur, also known as PACA. Thanks to the willingness of a wonderful AFS volunteer to open her home to me, I got to spend last week chilling out under the sun in Marseille while all of France's teenagers tackled their bac. It was really cool to visit another region and live at the pace in the South, which is a bit slower and more relaxed than in the busy North. So, if you don't care about my week in Marseille, go ahead and skip this post, but for anyone interested, brace yourself, because this post is going to be long. I apologize for all of the excessive details, but this way, when I get around to making my "Year in France" scrapbook, all I have to do is print out my blog posts.

Monday morning, I grabbed my suitcase, triple checked that I had all of my train tickets, and then my host mom drove me to the train station in my town. I took a TER(regional train) to Lille where I then changed stations with a crowd of other travelers to the newer, more modern station that does the TGV(rapid, inter-regional trains.) I looked at the big board showing all of the trains(being amazed by how well organized and easy it was to understand and then thinking about how confusing it is to find trains in Sacramento where the info is given on the PA system in a completely impossible to understand, mushy voice) and easily found my TGV. After a few uneventful hours on the train, I arrived in Marseille where I got off to meet the volunteer that would host me. It was only as I got off the train that I realized that I had no idea what she looked like or where she would be. Luckily, she had thought ahead and made a little sign, so I found her without any trouble. We headed back to her apartment, made dinner, and then slept to be ready for a filled week. My host wasn't working at all that week, so she was able to take my all over the place, and it was great to have a guide.

On Tuesday, we decided to tour the city. We first went to Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde to see the city from up high.

Notre Dame de la Garde is the cathedral up on the hill, and it really is one of the highest points in Marseille. You get a great view from the top. (Photo courtesy of fotocommunity)

This is the basilisque de Notre Dame de la Garde.

This is Marseille seen from ND de la Garde.

Here's another view of Marseille from ND de la Garde. In the background, the little island is the chateau d'if, and the two further back are the Frioul islands. Unfortunately, the photo quality is not very good because the pollution was very visible that day.

I was told that my plaid shorts and my visor marked me as a tourist from a kilometer away, but I didn't care. In the North, I did try a bit to blend in since I would be living there, but in the south, I was there as a tourist so what did it matter if people could tell?

After we were done looking around from up high, we walked back down into the heart of the city. We strolled around the old port which now serves as the home for most of the little pleasure boats. The cruise ship port is a little ways away(you can see it from the old port, and I went past it in the train, spotting the Atlantic Start docked in the port) and the new industrial port has been moved away from the city, just a few kilometers away. The old port is a long rectangle, and being on one side, it is actually quite a walk to get to the other side in going all the way around. Luckily, there is a free ferry that goes back and forth taking passengers.

The ferry boat to go from one side of the port to the other.

After the port, we walked around in the basket district, one of the older neighborhoods in Marseille. As my host explained, Marseille is less of a cohesive city than a grouping a many linked neighborhoods. We also went to an ancient artifacts museum with a lot of artifacts found not far from Marseille. According to my host, Marseille was established as a city at least 600 years before Christ. Once done in the basket district, we headed back to the old port to grab an ice cream cone before heading back. One thing that was slightly annoying throughout the week as we got ice creams was that they were often very soft. They were more of a gelato texture than the nice, hard scoop of ice cream texture. They all had nice flavor, but where too soft and melted too fast. The other thing I noticed was that the size of the scoops bothered me. I'm used to nice, big, American-sized Baskin Robbins scoops of ice cream. So here, when the scoops were tiny, it bothered me way more than it should have. I'm sure if I had grown up paying that price for small scoops it would have been fine, but being used to American scoops, I felt like we were getting ripped off each time.

I Love ICE CREAM!!!!! (Especially when it was actually hot outside, after 10 months in the north where it was never really hot enough to enjoy the great cooling effects of ice cream.)

On Wednesday, I met up with another exchange student spending time in Marseille like me. She actually spent the whole year in the north, just like me, and it was a fun coincidence that we were in Marseille at the same time. We went to the Calanques, which are little coves along the coast where a lot of people like to swim. We took the bus to the trail head, armed with water, our lunches, and swimsuits, and headed off to look for adventure. We spent a great day together, hiking to the coves, swimming in the Mediterranean, and tanning. After we got back to downtown, we went to a beach close to my friend's host, which was a sort of mini beach boardwalk. There was a Ferris wheel and a few other rides, a bunch of treat stands and ice cream stores, and a few volleyball courts. It was so cool to be completely independent, thanks to the great public transit system and the fact that it stayed light until around 9:00 pm. I came back at 7:30 and it was still full daylight. My host, who had spent the day shopping and running errands, surprised me when I got back with a big bowl of tapenade(olive spread). My host dad had brought a small bottle back with him after a weekend in Nice, another city in the south, and I had really liked it. So, after I had expressed an interest in having some while I was in Marseille, she went to a store where they sell it in bulk and you choose how much you want yourself, rather than selling it in the tiny bottles. It was so yummy, and throughout the whole week, I ate bread with tapenade for an appetizer whenever we were at home for lunch or dinner. 

This is the place where we ended up swimming, a calanque called Sugiton.

When we arrived, there weren't too many people yet. We were lucky to have come on a weekday instead of a weekend. It also rained a bit in the morning, so people were probably a bit slower to come out. But, by the time we had finished eating and swimming, it was starting to get crowded. The rock you can see directly behind my head is an island, and a lo of people were jumping from it. Both of us were dying to jump, but decided not to risk it since we didn't know whether it was deep enough and safe enough.

The trail we took really was a bit of an adventure. We had to climb a ladder as we left the cove, and at another point, we had to slide down a crevice on our butts. It was really fun. And, we couldn't help laughing internally a little bit as we saw people doing the trail in the other direction and wondered how they were going to climb up the crevice we had slid down. See that red mark on the rock, about level with my knee? That was a trail marker, and shows that yes, indeed, you are required to climb the ladder. The trails were really well marked, and we could usually see the next mark from the one we were at. That made us more confident as we slid down crevices and clambered over rocks.

Here's another, more crowded beach/cove.

On Thursday, I went with my AFS host to the Château d'If and the Îles Friouls. We took a boat from the Old Port and the first stop was the Château d'If.

On the boat as we headed out to the prison.

It is a prison that was used for a very long time and held some famous prisoners. It was often used to hold protestants when the catholics were worried that they would start uprisings. Of course, its most famous prisoner happens to also be fictional, but that's ok. This is the prison where Edmond Dantés was locked up for many years before escaping and becoming the Count of Monte Cristo. We could tour his cell, and there was even a video system in the cell next to it which allowed you to see yourself locked in a cell. Thanks to the book Le Conte de Monte Cristo, the island became a public monument in 1880, but it was used once again as a prison during WW1 when it held German prisoners. After the war, it reopened as a public monument, and has been ever since.  Just like in San Francisco with the escape from Alcatraz, each year they host the Défi de Monte-Cristo(Monte Cristo's Challenge) which is a swim race from the island to Marseille.

Here's the island and the prison seen from the boat.

After the château d'if, we got back on the boat(which was doing loops from Marseille to the prison to the Frioul Islands to Marseille) and headed to the Frioul Islands. The two islands, which are now connected by a man-made road, are part of a group of 4(which include If and another tiny island.) There is a small village with apartments and some restaurants on one of the two big islands. Besides that, there are some old buildings that served military purposes to protect Marseille, as well as an old hospital that used to be a quarantine. When the epidemics of pests and diseases were spreading across the seas, boats suspected of carrying infected people had to stop in the Frioul islands to be cleared. This was to protect mainland Europe from the infections, since Marseille was an important port city.

This is an old building on the Frioul Islands that used to be part of a fort.

We hiked around one of the two islands, stopping to eat our sandwiches, before heading back to the city. Instead of taking the boring old metro back to her apartment, we took a boat shuttle which went along the coast. It was fun, and definitely a cooler way to commute than with the metro or the bus.

On Friday, after a slow morning, we packed up the car and headed off to go camping. In high vacation season, you would normally have to make a reservation, but since everyone is still in school except high school students, we were ok. We drove about 1.5 hours west of Marseille to the Camargue, which is where the Rhône river flattens out and meets the Mediterranean. It is one of those rare and important ecosystems where fresh water and salt water meet, and a resting place for lots of birds. The camping ground was right next to a town called Les-Saintes-Mairies-de-la-mer. It wasn't really camping in nature so much as a cheaper alternative to a hotel in the very touristic town. The basic fee gets you a campsite, and you can have a tent and 1 or 2 people. Then you can pay supplements to have extra people, extra tents, electricity, and even a refrigerator. The campground was right next to the beach and there was a pool with a water slide and everything. We pitched our tent and then headed off for a walk along the beach.

As the sun started to slowly go down and the wind started to pick up, the kite surfers came out to play in the waves. They were lots of fun to watch.

So, let's take a minute to talk about something very cliché french: nude beaches. In my mind, I had always imagined nude beaches as huge, crowded sandy beaches where everyone would be walking around naked. Well, it doesn't exactly work like that. I stumbled across a few places during the week with some nudists, but it wasn't like in my imagination. When I was in the Calanques with my friend, we came across a small but pretty crowded beach. There was a woman strolling around in the shallow water without a top on, and there were two or three women lying on the beach topless. I know in the states people sometimes lie on their stomachs topless to tan their backs, but I had never seen anyone lying on their back topless. Oh, and men with speedos is WAY more popular in France than in the states. You don't see boys or men in board shorts. Ever. Speedos is the way to go. Anyway, back to the nude beaches. So then, when we were walking in the Frioul Islands, there were lots of small coves with beaches along the coasts. In one, there was a naked guy just walking around, sometimes swimming and sometimes tanning. The AFS lady said that usually, people don't have the right to be nude, but as long as they're pretty much hidden, they can get away with it. And then, finally, when we were on the beach next to the camping, there were a few people without swimsuits here and there. Some were tanning semi-hidden in the dunes while others were just boldly strolling along the beach in their birthday suits. But, it definitely wasn't a sort of "reserved," crowded "Nudists' beach" like I had imagined. It was just some people here and there.

So, after a long walk along the beach, we went back to the camping ground, hopped in the car, and drove into the town to get dinner. Basically, we had two choices of food: Italian or Seafood. It would have been the perfect chance to try famous bouillabaisse, the typical fish soup/stew in Provence, but since I don't like, fish, we went for Italian. There was also a strong Spanish influence in the area, with dishes like Paella and tapas available at many restaurants. You could also find bull steaks and bull sausages. And in the restaurant we went to, there were two guys who wandered through the restaurant playing guitar and singing in spanish. At the Italian restaurant, they gave us sangria and olives as a free appetizer, so I tried the drink. Even though the alcohol taste wasn't very strong, it was still present enough to prevent me from liking the drink. I guess its a good thing I don't like alcohol rather than falling in love with it. After dinner, we walked into town to look around. We saw all kinds of people in pink t-shirts, and couldn't figure out what it was. After a little bit, we saw a bunch of people lining up on the sides of the main road, so we guessed that something was probably going to happen.  We finally asked the man next to us what it was all about, and he explained. It was the "Fête Votive," meaning there were bull-fighting and activities like that all throughout the week, another example of the Spanish Influence in southern france. That night was an activity with a group of horses acting as the guardians for 4 bulls that were running just behind them. Then all of the kids in the town(the ones who had been wearing the pink t-shirts) were trying to divert the bulls and separate them from the guardians. But, they weren't very successful, and both times they went pasts us, we just saw the horses and the bulls in the middle and a whole crowd of noisy kids running along the outside.

Here's the huge group of people, horse, and bulls running along down the main street.

Here, you can sort of see the bulls. They have their head practically in between the horses to stay protected, and the kids are trying to make them come out, away from the guardians to wreak havoc in the streets. At one point, they did get one bull slightly separated from the group, but all it did was speed up to hide again.

There were also some aspects of a parade, because decorated cars like these came along afterwards to cheer. I think they are all dressed like flamingos because pink flamingos are typical in the camargue.

After the activity was over, everyone seemed to be heading to the beach, so we followed them. There was a stage set up and a group of musicians started to play. Soon afterwards, a group of horses and riders holding candles came onto the beach and rode around the stage. I'm guessing they did some formation riding and stuff, but since the mosquitoes were eating us alive and it was 11:00 pm, we decided to head back to the campground.

This is the group of horses and riders getting ready to ride onto the beach. The riders had on traditional clothes and each carried a lit candle.

On Saturday, we woke up pretty early as the sun turned our tent into an oven. After a rough night, we headed to the snack bar to get breakfast and coffee. We then drove into town to pick up food and snacks for our lunch, popped into the tourism office to ask for advice about what to do, and then headed off to the bird park. It was a preserved space, meant as a landing place for the migrating birds and other permanent birds in the special salt water/fresh water mix marsh. Mostly, we saw flamingos and ducks, but there were lots of different species.

At first, these birds were so stationary we thought that they were just a statue set up by the park, but then we realized that they were real as they started to move and the young ones started to squabble for food.

Here's a group of flamingos. There were a few different types of flamingos, and different groups were all over the marshes. I even saw some flamingos flying, which was cool since in the zoo, they always have clipped wings. They were really graceful.

These are horses of the camargue, a special breed of horses that you can find all over the camargue. In general, they seem to be used for horse-back riding trips and to control the bulls. But they were often allowed to roam free in the marsh areas as well.

After the bird park, we headed back to go swimming in the Mediterranean. It felt great to play in the gentle waves and lie on the beach after the day of hiking. After the beach, I decided to take advantage of the pool and went down the slide a few times. We took showers, and then walked to town this time, since we had some extra time. After looking around the town, we ended up at the same restaurant since we had liked the ambiance. That night's "Fête Votive" activity was what I would call "Bull Teasing." They set up a course on the main street and lined it with the special yellow fences which human can slide in and out of but bulls can't. I'm not sure what the goal was, except to have an entertaining spectacle, but they released one bull at a time and then the teenagers in their pink shirts were running around. They would tap the bull's horns or hit it on the rump, and a few daring kids pulled on its tail. They would stand right next to the fences, brusquely stick out their arms and legs in front of the bull, and once it saw them, they would pull back in. One bull charged the fences once or twice, but in general, the people in charge let the bulls go back into the truck before they got too irritated and dangerous. After the bull-teasing, we walked back to our campground and slept soundly, exhausted after the day.  

There were signs like these all over the town during the few days we were there. They say "Danger Manifestations Taurines et Équestres" which means "Danger, bull-fighting and equestrian events."

This is one of the bulls after a few laps. Mostly, the kids sort of chased the bull up and down the course. These were not full-sized bulls, but they were still dangerous. The kids had energy and enthusiasm, but we could tell that they were scared, which is probably a good thing and prevented any serious injuries. The yellow barriers are wide enough that the kids could easily go in and out, but too narrow for the bulls. Some of the older men who were in charge of the event and commentating had to suck in their bellies to be able to get through.

Sunday morning, we packed up the tent and headed out, this time the destination being Arles. Arles is another really old town that was an important town during the time of the roman empire but lost importance when the invasions began, and then once the trains replaced the boats as the primary means of transporting goods. We went to an ancient arena where they used to do gladiator fights and an ancient theater, both built in the 1st century BCE.

The old, Roman arena.

The arena was still in really good shape, thanks to a lot of restoration efforts by the town.

Today, there are metal bleachers installed inside that work together with the old stone structure to create a functional arena that is used today for bull-fighting events.

We took a different route to come back to Marseille, passing along the coast. We took a little ferry to cross a branch of the Rhône and then drove along the coast. As we drove through l'ésatque, a little tourist area next to Marseille, my host was seized with memories.

This is L'éstauqe, the little painter's village and now touristy area next to Marseille. The beaches were completely full to bursting with families enjoying their sunny Sunday afternoon.

 She was telling me about how she used to walk there with her siblings to go swimming when they were young, and how they would buy panisses and chichis. We ended up passing three little kiosques where they sell them, and she was suddenly craving a chichi, so we stopped and I got to try them.

This is the kiosque we went to. Apparently you can find chichis at fairs as well, but they are nowhere near as good as the ones made here.

They were really really good, and super fresh. We didn't get panisses, but they are fried slices of garbonzo bean puree. Chichis are sort of like donuts or churros, fried dough and rolled in sugar. They had a citrus flavor to them that I was told comes from the use of fleur d'oranger to flavor them.

The stand was worked by three people. There was one guy who did the frying, the lady you see here who cut and rolled them in sugar, and a young woman that took the orders and the money.

When they come out of the frier, the chichis look like this. Then, they are cut into individual portions.

These portions were then rolled in sugar, a little piece of paper wrapped around the middle for easy eating, and placed in a bag. When you order two chichis, you also get a little bonus in the bag: an extra little chunk like the one you see on the left of the photo.

 We got back to Marseille exhausted, unpacked the car, whipped up some dinner, and then rolled into bed.

Monday morning, I packed up my suitcases, hopped on a train, and headed to Lyon for another week's worth of adventures. Stay tuned.