So East it's Ouest

I bought a bike!   A nice lady in a small town nearby was clearing out her barn and sold me this bike for 10€, and the pannier bags for a few euros too, uh huh that's a steal.  From what I can figure it's a 1979 Gitane 'Tour de France' touring bicycle made in Nantes; front and rear quick releases, mavic (presta) rims, ideale leather saddle, Huret/Simplex derailleurs and mafac brakes all in need of some tender loving care.  Yes I'm happy.   The man at the nearby bike shop kept questioning me why I needed all the bike parts because he would supply them when he fixed my bike, what was it that I needed done?  It took some time for it to sink in that I repair bikes too.  He said it's not everyday you see a girl repairing bikes 'with a shrug of his shoulders' it's a bit macho you know.  Ah what a charmer. : ) With this little beauty I'm planning on biking the very intimidating Mt.Ventoux before my time here is up.  It's the tallest mountain in the

 I love American coffee.  The French normally drink espresso.  Ohhh fancy right, not really.  The stereotype is that French people find American coffee repugnant, calling it sock juice and all such names, however I have found this to be relative.  In fact I was surprised to see several drip coffee makers in French homes, but more common is an individual espresso maker like nespresso.  The difference is café au lait vs. coffee.  Drip coffee would be considered café au lait, normally it is put into a small bowl with some milk for breakfast at home.  Espresso is the strong stuff put into a demi-tasse that has a handle that your pinky finger can't even fit into, normally the French have one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Now some espresso etiquette; when you would like some espresso around here they will ask short or long (court ou longue).  I ask for it long,which is more like American coffee, and so do many people; long is basically a really strong small cup of Starbuck

The cinéma-quiet, historic, dark, posters, fun.  Last night I got the opportunity to go to the Utopia an old cinema hidden in a corner near the palais des papes in Avignon.  This was on the top of my list of things to do.  I convinced Margaux and we got into the car and after a major bout of being completely lost and some running sprints later we made it to the Utopia with 2 minutes to spare.  Including a narrow twisting lane of cobblestones with man playing an accordion with a mustache, hmmmm.  I could tell we were in the right place because I saw a large group of old bikes in front of it.   It's pretty amazing, an old glass building full of history but it's lively as well.  It's the kind of place you go that they are proud that none of they're movies are in 3D, they only have one hall, and you only pay in cash.  And everyone who likes movies goes there; there were old couples, single pregnant ladies, college kids with tattoos and spiked hair, and it seemed to gather t

1).  Head to your local Tabac/ La Presse 2).  Look around to find your favorite post card.   3).  Go to the cash register with your post card and ask for some stamps, you need to ask for international ones.  [des timbres "de monde" s'il vous plaît]  4). The cashier will ask how many you want, they come on a roll so you can ask for as many or as few as you like. (they're the lick kind, very classy). Pay for them and the post card. 5).  Write the message and address and put the stamp on. 6).  Place in yellow or blue metal mailbox in the slot for non-regional delivery; mailboxes are normally on walls in town, at the post office, or in large supermarkets.

I've started driving which was crazy at first, but you figure it out.  Near Avignon there are two bridges and a millionbazzillionquardrillion lanes and loop de loops and roundabouts that quickly change from taking you to the TGV train station, around the city wall, to ikea, back to where you started, the center of town (you don't want to do that), or on the way to a plethora of other towns ( orange, carpentras, nîmes, arles...etc.). But the style of driving I can handle, it's fast and furious, but it reminds me of Mario cart; really everyone drives a little crazy, but it's tolerable because people seem to be alert and ready to stop, and if you are scared to death you put a giant A in your back window.  It stands for apprentice, as in someone who only has their permit, but it basically means take it easy on me I don't drive crazy, anyone can buy a giant red A to put in their back window.  The other sign stands for someone with their permit but still needs to be accom

It's been a couple of days now with my French family, and wow you realize how little you understand when someone tries to tell you exactly how a woman on the bus in the morning dislocated her shoulder because the bus driver was crazy, or trying to figure out your cell phone plan, or watching a French comedy show, or just when someone asks a question and you have no idea what they said.  I will say it is amazing however, how you can learn vocabulary so quickly when they point to something or explain something and ask you what is a géométre, seau, nem, vitre, bougie, cornichon...etc or how do you say...débarraser la table, remuer, arroser, débrouille-toi...in English?   What's wierd is that sometimes on the spot I completely forget, I obviously know that I know the word but it is all scrambled up in my head; yesterday I completely forgot how to say surveyor, roundabout, and roommate when they asked me for the translation.  Sometimes the way the thoughts are constructed are differ

I t is much more fun to be in France when you speak French.  The people in this area seem to know a few words in English like hello, numbers or welcome but overall they seem to be uncomfortable speaking any English, not that I've been trying to.  It's great because although there are tourists in this area, you can't at all get by by speaking English.  When I say bonjour or perhaps I'm speaking to my parents in English people will either stare or say hello when they pass you, which takes me off guard.  In fact, when you walk into a store, on the street, or you just so happen to notice another human being you always say the polite Bonjour or the even more polite Bonjour Monsieur/Madame.  Even if they speak fluent English many times they would rather speak French.   However; as I was warned by several French people, do not give the traditional American smile/smirk when making eye contact with someone, especially on the street; as a woman men think you're coming on to t

24 hours of travel,  no meals, fighting off jet lag, figuring out how Euros work=exhaustion.  I am so ready to go to sleep tonight.  I have a problem with not sleeping when I'm traveling, even as a little kid when we would drive down to Ft. Meyers, a whole day away, I wouldn't get a wink of sleep not'a one.  Ross dropped us off at 9:00am Thursday and we got to where we are staying today Friday at 2:00pm.   At the Madrid airport, which is beautiful but strangly designed, they made me worried when they spent 10mins looking over my passport,  then they took my carry-on aside and pulled me over, 'oh no' I thought ' they're going to throw something out of my bag or call me a terrorist'.  Turns out my bicycle mechanics pouch is shaped just like a bomb, so I hurriedly tried to say bicycle in Spanish, to the customs officer's chagrin: una velo, los bicyclette, las bicicletas!  : }   We flew from Ft.Wayne->Chicago->Madrid->Marseille and then we drove

Might I add it is incrediably fulfilling to place all your essentials into really one bag, yep that's all I really need; the other bags are mom and dads' and my carry on.  My bag's are pretty light though, even with some little gifts for les Avignonnais, ready to bring home some cool stuff like...a bike!  Nawh nawh, maybe as a carryon?  This first post is dedicated to Cody, a backwards mirror shot.  Tomorrow to the airport!